Random Norse Bullshit

Chapter 1: Why Are Youth So Foolish In Matters Of The Heart?

"I cannot believe they fell for that!" Odin roared, head thrown back in laughter. Beside him, his blood brother’s mouth quirked up in a smirk, his quiet chuckle somehow crystal clear over the Allfather’s racket.

"Yes, well, to be fair–" Loki began, only to interrupt himself with a choked-off wheeze. Faster than Odin could question him, he turned into a squirrel and promptly hid himself in Odin’s cloak.

The reasoning for his strange behavior was made clear but a moment later.

"Good evening, Sigyn," Odin greeted, the corner of his one good eye crinkling in amusement. "I hope the day has treated you well."

"And you, my lord," Sigyn returned, genuine but distracted. "Have you seen Laufeyson, by any chance?"

Odin considered telling the truth. A warning chitter in his ear made him decide against it.

"I'm afraid not," he shrugged. "Why do you seek him? Has he played some mischief against you?" Odin doubted it. Anyone else, perhaps, but not Sigyn.

"Oh, Norns, no." Sigyn shook her head. "I've just... My grandmother sent me a plant from Jotunnheim, and I was thinking he would perhaps like to see it. It is of frost, not fire, but I was hoping he'd enjoy it still."

The quivering bundle of fur in his cloak stilled.

"I’ll tell him of it next I see him," Odin promised.

"He seems to be avoiding me of late," Sigyn whispered. Her face and tone were mild, as they always were, but it was the closest to heartbroken he'd ever seen her.

"He is a wild thing, always coming and going. I’m sure he means no offense against you," Odin comforted, a hint of threat that only Loki would pick up on slipping into his tone. He was rather fond of the young woman. "Certainly he’ll be back soon, full of tales to share with you and overjoyed at your new plant."

"Perhaps," Sigyn agreed, though she didn’t quite sound like she believed it. "I shall not take any more of your time, Allfather, as I have duties to attend. Good day."

"And you, lass," Odin nodded, watching her walk off. As soon as she was out of sight, the squirrel leaped out of his cloak, landing crouched on a branch as the halfling he knew so well. Odin raised a judging eyebrow at him.

"That young lady is just about in tears from you, you know."

"I am well aware, thank you," Loki growled, head in his hands. "I– she– how?!" He demanded, fearlessly looking the Allfather straight in the eye, his face more open than he'd dare let it be around anyone else. "How could she possibly miss me? The entire point of avoiding her was to save her reputation from being tainted by my own, and now she seeks to ruin that by asking after me? Why would she..."

He trailed off, looking into the distance.

"She likes you, you know," Odin said softly.

"I am well aware, thank you," Loki repeated, this time lacking any bite. "A plant from Jotunnheim... I bet it’s a Crystalleaf bloom — it’s the only plant from the colder parts of the giants’ realm really worth sending. I haven’t seen one of them in years." He sighed, wistful at the memory of the glowing flowers he’d once loved digging through the snow to find as a child.

"If you hurry, you can still catch up with her."

"I will bring her nothing but mischief and misery," Loki argued. "The others will turn on her the moment they discover her... fondness for me."

"You are not leaving her to pine after you," Odin said sternly. "If you wish to cut ties with her, you will tell her to her face."

Loki looked more miserable than Odin had ever seen him. "I can’t do that. I... Not to her. I can’t. Don’t make me... No. Not to her."

"Then go look at her flower," Odin ordered. "And tell her some story that will make her laugh."

Loki looked at him, something hopeful flickering in his gaze. "I could do that. Surely I could... I can be her friend for a while, let her realize her mistake and cut ties with me herself. The others will pity her at worst — perhaps even respect her for it."

"Or she might stay friends with you."

Loki scoffed.

"Thor likes you," Odin reminded him.

"Thor likes everyone," Loki said disdainfully. Anyone else speaking of his son with that tone would quickly earn Odin’s wrath, but he alone could hear the fondness beneath the Silvertongue’s scorn.

"Sleipnir likes you," he tried.

"He’s my son," Loki retorted flatly.

"I like you," Odin declared, putting his hand over the other’s arm.

"You’re a fool," Loki snapped, reaching up a hand to place over Odin’s, holding rather than pushing away. He paused. "Why me? Of all the Gods, why would she take an interest in me?"

"Why did you take an interest in her?" Odin replied with a shrug. To him, the answers to both questions seemed rather obvious.

Loki took a deep breath. "Fine," he exhaled, hopping off the branch. By the time he landed gracefully on the ground, his appearance was that of a familiar golden-haired woman. "But she better be okay with me being Sif while we’re in public."

"Thor won’t like that," Odin chuckled.

"Thor doesn’t like anything," Loki-Sif dismissed airily, sauntering away in the direction Sigyn had gone, the perfect picture of a noblewoman off to find her friend. "Good day, Allfather."

"And you, my dear," Odin sighed, shaking his head. "Why must the young always be so foolish in matters of the heart?" he asked no one in particular.

Far above, Huginn and Muninn answered him with screeches that none but he could understand.

Odin flushed red, though he grinned up at them. "To be fair, I was quite young when I was courting Frigg. And I was not near so shy about it."

The ravens merely cackled in response.