Homecoming

While the rest of the kingdom was content to celebrate Rym’s recent victory, Loke decided he had enough. It had been over a month since he had been able to sleep in his own bed; a celebration of any kind was the last thing needed. How Rym could handle it let alone choose it, he would never know.

As Loke tried to make his way out, he happened to overhear Rym’s loud, boastful voice carry throughout the hall. No doubt interrupting the other conversations and dragging the people in to listen whether they wanted to or not. It didn’t help that storytelling wasn’t his forte.

Loke could not help but roll his eyes.

“You should have seen the look on their faces when they realized I was there the whole time!” Rym grinned excitedly. “Their terror was almost enough to make me stop. Almost. I raised my hammer and then–”

Loke tried to put as much distance as he could between him and Rym’s voice. He had had more than enough of it throughout their journey. Just one break, was that too much to–

“Loke! Do you remember what happened after that?”

The mischief maker had to bite his tongue to hold back a groan. Painting a smile on his face, Loke turned to the crowd. “I believe the others yielded up their weapons after you took care of all their leaders, and I had to persuade you to let them go.”

“That’s right!” Rym quickly agreed, caught up in the story. “So then as we were leaving, one of the jotunn tried to–”

Loke slipped off, having no desire to hear the rest of the story. Weaving through the crowds with skilled ease, he saw the entrance of the hall would soon be within his grasp. If he could just–

“Loke! Please tell us your side of the story?” one of the ladies called out to him.

It took everything in him to hold back a growl. Still, Loke brought back up a smile, hiding what he was really feeling.

“There isn’t much to say,” he grinned. “Rym is going over the tale  in the hall. I’m sure you’ll get a general idea of what occurred.”

“We wish to hear what truly happened,” another lady whined annoyingly. “Rym’s stories are hardly interesting and they always leave out so much. Please tell us.”

“Another time,” Loke said, though he had no intention of following through..

“Do you promise?” a smaller, softer voice piped up.

The mischief maker gave pause and glanced down. A young girl, hardly the age of ten, returned his gaze. Her eyes seemed to plead with him, wanting a chance to hear his storytelling.

“Sure,” he promised with a smirk. “If you can catch me.”

Before anyone could respond, Loke slipped away. He held his breath as the heavy scent of food reached his nose. As hungry as he was, his stomach churned at the smell of the strong seasonings the cooks had favored this evening. His belly rumbled in protest at the thought of indulging in such rich foods. Loke couldn’t blame it. He found himself taking its side on the matter.

A few more steps, he thought to himself, and I’ll be home free–

“Loke.” A cold voice warned.

So close.

Loke glared at the watchman from the corner of his eye. Why did he have to be here?

“Yes?” he responded coolly though he would much rather rage at the man.

“It would seem that you were not the one responsible for this scheme.” the watchman replied. “A pity that could not be the case each time.”

“Is that all you wanted?” Loke yawned. “To admit that you were wrong? Apology accepted. If you’ll excuse me–”

“Now, wait just a moment–” the watchman protested.

The mischief maker walked off as another crowd had begun to form around them. He could hear the murmurings of disappointment as he continued on. A smirk formed on his face. Did they wish for a show?

Loke snapped his fingers.

Cries of astonishment replaced the grumbling almost instantly. He glanced back in time to witness the fireshow that happened above the heads of the group. The flames danced through the air, painting the story Rym had struggled to do earlier.

Unease filled the crowd as the fire flickered during its presentation of exactly what Rym did when the lone jotunn had tried to give a surprise attack.

While his heart is hardly malicious, Loke thought as he dismissed the flames, Rym could benefit in learning how to hold back and show mercy.

Loke stopped to scan those behind him, gauging if they still wanted him to stay. Many refused to meet his gaze, some outright looking at the ground rather than look him in the eye. Only one, the watchman, glared at him, fury marring his features.

The mischief maker dismissed him as he went his way.

Loke heaved a sigh. The noise of the celebration faded into the night. Silence quickly became his only companion as he headed home, his stomach urging him to hasten his pace.

As he neared the cottage, however, a new scent caught his nose: the smell of burning food. Loke rushed in.

“Loke!”

Sigunn, his beloved wife, great with child, was struggling to save what he could only presume was dinner. She winced as he observed the situation before him. Blacken lamb and bread sat on the table while chopped up vegetables lay scattered all over the place.

With a sigh, Loke stepped forward and helped where he could. I was craving stew anyway.

“You should be resting,” he chided gently, stealing a glance at her. “The baby’s due any day now.”

Sigunn sighed. “I know. I wanted to surprise you with your favorites.”

He kissed her head. “Consider me surprised.”

She couldn’t help but puff her cheeks out. “Not funny.”

Loke chuckled. “You can hardly expect me to take you seriously when you make faces like that.”

“If you’re going to tease me like this, I've half a mind to send you to bed without supper.” Sigunn lightly threatened, being partly serious.

“Oh, please, my dear, dear wife,” Loke grinned. “Please don’t send your poor, starved husband to bed when he has been so looking forward to coming home after a long, long month.”

A giggle burst out from her lips, failing to keep the act up. His heart warmed at the sound. Oh, it had been a prolonged period since he had heard it.

“I’m never leaving again.” he hummed.

Sigunn gave him a look. “But you love wandering.”

“Wandering, yes. Going on a quest with Rym or Odin, no.”

“So what happened this time?”

“Another jotunn wanted to marry Freja so he stole Rym’s hammer.”

“Again?”

Loke shrugged. “Stories of her beauty have reached far and wide.”

Sigunn rolled her eyes. “Will you tell me what happened?”

“Perhaps during dinner.”

She glanced up at him. “Do you not want to talk about it? Or do you need to prepare yourself first?”

Loke didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on making the stew, hoping she wouldn’t bring it up again.

With their combined effort, however, dinner was soon ready.

With a gentle yet firm hand, Loke helped Sigunn sit before serving her food.

“Will you tell me now?” she asked.

He scooped up a spoonful of stew and gave it a try.

Sigunn sighed. “How is it?”

Loke gave a smile, the first genuine one all evening. “It tastes just like home.”

She placed a hand on his. “Will you please tell me what happened? You’ve been avoiding the subject.”

The mischief maker didn’t answer right away. Sigunn didn’t move, waiting until he was ready.

Taking a breath, Loke began to snap his fingers, intending for the flames to tell the story. His wife, nevertheless, wasn’t having it.

“I want to hear from you about the quest, what truly happened. Please, Loke.”

There were several beats of silence as a battle of wills played out before them. One wished for the matter to be dropped and left alone while the other only wanted to help. The former knew it would mean facing old wounds and saying the words he hardly dared to, though the latter knew it would be best for him to talk about such matters so he could move forward.

Loke knew this and gave in.

He spoke how they tricked the jotunn into thinking they had truly brought Freja to be wed, how they had responded to being deceived. Loke touched lightly on the battle that occurred afterwards, knowing that his wife had a gentle heart. His voice became softer as he approached the part where the jotunn surrendered when they saw their leaders had fallen.

“But that was not the end, was it?” she whispered.

Loke shook his head. “One, foolish and young giant, tried to get the jump on Rym. He had such an unconquerable spirit… If only he knew when to back down. You can imagine how Rym retaliated…”

The mischief maker looked away, his heart getting caught in his throat.

Sigunn carefully got up and made her way over to him. Loke didn’t budge when she wrapped her arms around him.

“It’s okay to cry, my husband.” she voiced, running her fingers through his hair for a moment. “I know it’s hard for you, even after all this time.”

Loke trembled at her words. He pressed his hand to his eyes as the dam started to break. She just held him while tears continued to fall from his eyes. Soon, he gently pulled her to sit next to him and encircled her about in his arms.

Neither knew how long they sat there, though not a word was uttered between them.

It wasn’t until after dinner had been cleaned up and the two of them were preparing for bed when the silence was broken.

Sigunn offered her wooden comb, a gentle request. One Loke granted. She turned her back to him and waited.

As he brushed through her thick locks, she asked, “If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Loke paused for a moment. “Am I allowed to bring you along?”

“After the baby is born, yes.”

He thought and pondered her question. “Anywhere our child doesn’t have to live in scrutiny  because of his heritage. I want a life for him where he doesn’t have to hide who he is, or who his family is. A life where he doesn’t have to worry about what tomorrow might bring. One where he can be free to grow.”

“Where would such a place be?” his wife pressed.

“That’s the thing,” he answered. “There are many worlds to choose from. Many where we could start anew, where none would know our faces or our pasts. Perhaps there is even one where we could never be found. To be left alone.”

“Have your previous wanderings led you to such a place?”

“A time or two. Finding them again will be challenging.”

Sigunn turned to him, an unspoken question in her eyes.

Loke placed a hand on her cheek. “I swear I’ll not go looking until the baby’s born, when you are ready to handle things on your own. Not Rym, and not even Odin himself will force me to break this promise to you.”

She leaned into his touch, a smile gracing her face.

Yes, there may come a time when Odin and Rym would want to travel again but he would not go with them. The next time he left his home, it would be to seek for a new one.