“Hello, witch.”
Loki sighed. He extracted his fingers from the leaves of the aconite flowers and said, “How many times must I tell you? I’m not a witch.”
“Then why do you dress like one?” The young boy trundled out from the edge of the trees, disregarding all the signs – the skulls, the bog, the line of thorns, and the poisonous plants that Loki had circled around his home to warn people away.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Loki said. “Haven’t the villagers told you it’s dangerous?”
“My mum says you’re alright,” Thor said. He came close to Loki, grinning, and held aloft the basket in his arms. “She made scones!”
Loki looked at him as if he were particularly daft.
Thor stood in a dark and shadowy part of the forest, where the trees grew spindly and grey. The grass grew in black patches, often with nettles that caught and scratched at one’s legs. Wolves prowled its boundaries, and the only birds which nested here were ravens and crows which cawed ominously in the daytime.
Loki’s cottage was the one spot of green, hidden far and deeper into the forest than any sane and self-preserving person should venture. Loki’s home was the one place where the trees grew lush and green; where the grasses swelled with flowers and ferns. Berries grew from the bushes, and Loki’s garden of herbs and flowers prospered, painting subtle colors around his small and cozy wooden abode. This was the one place in the deep forest where sunlight broke through the trees, and the light illuminated Loki as well as Thor, when he approached.
Thor, in every lifetime, was never particularly self-preserving. It was for this reason that the boy came to stand beside Loki without any care, not minding the glare Loki set upon him.
Thor flipped open the cloth covering the basket. The smell of fresh and warm baked goods wafted into the clearing. Inside the basket were an array of beautifully-baked scones, golden brown and speckled with nuts and dried fruits. They were enticing enough to make any mouth water, including Loki’s. Thor grinned up at Loki. “I told you I’d bring you some, right?”
“You did,” Loki said, “despite my clearly telling you that you should not venture here again until you were older.”
“I am older,” Thor rebutted. “By a week!”
Loki rolled his eyes heavenward. “You never do what’s best for you, you silly boy.”
“It’s not like you’ll hurt me.”
“I could eat you.” Loki bared his teeth in a wicked smile.
“Why would you do that when you could be eating these scones, instead?”
Loki stared down at Thor. Thor stared back, so utterly trusting, and so utterly determined. The only thing that could stop him would probably be Loki throwing him into the bog. “Fine,” Loki conceded, sighing. He opened the door to his cottage with a flick of magic. “Then come inside. We shall take them with tea.”
(Second of my entries to my self-inflicted challenge, 100 Lifetimes.)
I love everything about this!
100 Lifetimes – 02. Forest Witch
Published
Loki is the Philosopher King 