Recompense [Fólkvangr End, Book 1] [Loki Fanfiction]

Chapter Twenty-One

Author's Note: Well, the reads have plummeted from chapter eighteen with 90 or so to 14 on nineteen. And yet I keep posting. Woo! Feed me with reads and votes and love. Okay, this chapter is super long, and yes, this one actually and intentionally ends abruptly. You've been warned. Now, go, be free to read and vote and comment.

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What does this mean? What have I done? I can’t remember every holding someone’s hand, let alone a Norse god. He smiled, right? He was happy for that moment. (That is, until he had a minor temper tantrum the other night at supper about Thor being allowed to miss dinner and yet he was forced to “suffer the insolence of lower intelligence”.) I guess I was right about one thing—he is definitely a boy.

I watch him as he stretches his long limbs, pacing back and forth across the garden. I sit with my legs up on the stone bench and I watch him with narrowed eyes, squinting in the radiant sun. I shift my weight off of my arms, my wrists growing tired, and the stone leaving tiny indents in my palm.

“Weaknesses?” He calls out to me. He’s been throwing out words at me like this for over half an hour, and I respond with foreseeable problems that he will report back to Thor. Thor has been basically unreachable for the last few days, leaving me to try and find ways to occupy Loki. We’d been doing favorable things; taking tea, reading in the library, visiting town for as long as Loki could stand the plebeians, general complaining about each other and everyone else for that matter. Today he decided that military strategy best entertains him, but I’m growing tired of it. I know technically that’s why I am even on this planet, but since all they’ve managed to do is try and turn me into a lady, and alienate me for my Jotun blood, and because I’ve actually done very little strategically, I feel rather useless.

I let out a lengthy and audible sigh, “Weeeell, the back walls of the palace are about three feet too short to pose any serious obstacle to Frost Giants. But I presume our real problems lay in certain unsavory characters not-yet-appearing-in-this-film…it’s a joke, Loki. I really need to get a television and some movies up here ASAP because you are killing me.”

“Besides the walls,” Loki prods onwards, ignoring my sidetracking.

“Damned if I know! Alien war tactics aren’t exactly my specialty,” I point out and he rolls his eyes. “I don’t think the army is properly prepared for rear attacks. In theory, we throw the strongest men at the front, forcing them to fight first and lead the charge. In my opinion, that’s always been stupid. Why concentrate your good forces at the front of the ranks? We need a circular formation of ranks. A strong outer ring, and a strong inner corner for a second wave of strong fight. No matter which side I would attack on, I would be faced with waves of strength. If I was even to penetrate through, by the time I reached the middle, I wouldn’t be knocking out weak opponents, I would be wearied, and matched with strong force.”

“Oh, good day,” I hear a voice that does not belong to Loki. My head snaps up and Fandral is standing behind Loki on the garden path. Loki turns to look at him and I sit up on the bench.

“Oh…h-hey, Fandral. What..uh, ‘sup?” I ask, acting super awkward. Oh man. I look like such a fucking idiot. I said sup. Who ever even says sup anymore?

“I am presuming that is some sort of Midgardian greeting…?” Fandral says and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Loki refuses to move out of his way, so Fandral does a sort of bobbing and weaving, poking his head out around Loki.

“Yeah…I’m sorry. We really should catch up, but uh, Loki and I are in the middle of a very important conversation,” I frown, not sure why I am lying.