Loki sat pressing a square of folded fabric over his inner forearm just below his elbow as Fari stared unblinking at the mug into which he had moments ago spilled his blood, both silent as the clock on the wall ticked.
“How will we know if it worked?” Loki finally asked, removing the cloth from his arm, the bleeding having stopped, the wound already healing.
“I’m not sure. I’ll just…know I guess,” Fari answered, both falling silent again, gazing at the mug before Loki stood, dropping the blood stained rag onto the table.
“This…is very old wine,” Loki said, doing his best Bela Lugosi impression as he lifted the mug, moving it closer to Fari, setting it in front of her, “I hope you will like it.”
“I never drink…wine,” Fari replied in the same faux accent.
“That’s my line, actually,” Loki said, Fari looking up at him with a tired grin, “What about champagne?” he asked, the mug and his own he had refilled with ale both flashing green before transforming into glass flutes filled with bubbly golden liquid.
“It may look like it...but it won’t taste like it.”
“It will if you want it to…isn’t that how it works?”
“Not exactly…I would have to retreat into my own memories of a time I was actually drinking it.”
“I would venture to guess there’s a selection to choose from…we could revisit it together.”
“Your mind’s too strong…I don’t have the energy.”
“Even the strongest fortress must have an entrance. If the sentries guarding it were to be relieved for a time…they’ve been rather derelict in their duty since my arrival, to be honest,” Loki replied, extending his hand, Fari taking it.
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Loki, dressed in a smart dark colored suit and a matching Homburg hat, walked over the same rich carpet down the same rose walled hallway as in his earlier memory, leading to the door of Fari’s flat.
Only a few meters before he reached it, he was surprised to see it open, a chocolate haired, mustached man appearing somewhat older than Loki, though of course Loki was by far his elder, in a brown suit and fedora stepping out, closing it behind him. As he started in Loki’s direction, Loki slowed his pace as the man approached, the man nodding and touching his hat in a polite gesture of greeting as he passed him.
Loki turned his head to look over his shoulder, watching the man continue down the hallway before placing his attention in front of him again, walking the last few steps to Fari’s door. Glancing around, the man out of sight having rounded the corner at the end of the hall, Loki produced a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a bottle of champagne in the other, tucking the bottle in the crook of his arm before rapping on the door.
“Did you forget some–” Fari in her mortal guise said as she opened the door wearing a dark green frock with white polka dots and puff sleeves, “Loki…this is a sur–”
“Who is he?” Loki asked tersely.
“Who? Oh...you mean Mr. Robinson. His first name is Arthur…Artie. He-–”
“He didn't look to be a repairman. What was he doing here?” Loki asked in the same clipped tone.
“Come in,” Fari said, ignoring Loki’s question for the moment, stepping aside as Loki entered the flat, Fari closing the door behind him.
Loki's hat vanished as it was traced with a green magical glow as Fari took the bouquet and champagne from his hands, smelling the flowers.
“They’re beautiful…thank you. I was thinking of buying some for myself just yesterday. I’ll get a vase.”
Loki turned to his left, following Fari with his eyes as she crossed the room and disappeared through an arched doorway. He heard water running before she reappeared with the flowers in a crystal vase, carrying them over to and placing them in the center of the marble topped table in front of the settee before turning to Loki.
“Artie lives in the flat below. He owns a haberdashery. He does very well. He’s made a few hats for King George and his daughter, Princess Mary. I decided to get to know at least a few of the others who also live here. It wasn’t easy…Interdites aren’t known for their sociability, but I thought it would be wise. I’ve observed enough human behavior to learn that If one hides themselves away, others find it strange. It may call attention to them, people become curious,” Fari explained.
“Very true,” Loki admitted.
“I became friends with his wife. She fell ill. She's in hospital,” Fari said, crossing from the table to Loki, taking his hand and leading him to the far corner of the room, “He was having difficulty finding someone who was free with so many on holiday this time of year. His sister-in-law isn't able to make it to London until tomorrow,” Fari continued as they came to stand in front of a bassinet Loki had failed to notice, he peering down at the infant in a white smock dress lying within it, kicking her tiny feet, having kicked the blanket that had been tucked around her off of herself, her hands balled into small fists waving in the air, “This is Emma. I’ve been minding her the last couple of days while her father is at the hospital with her mother. He was only dropping in to see how we were getting on, if I needed anything.”
“Oh…” Loki responded, “I see.”
“You honestly believed–” Fari began.
“Of course not! I was only concerned for your safety. Midgard isn’t Asgard…or Interdis for that matter. There’s any number of rogues roaming about…a woman living alone…” Loki said, doing his best to sound convincing, Fari appearing cynical.
“Bringing me here was your idea. Interdites aren’t quite as strong as Asgardians but I could still snap a mortal’s neck like a matchstick if necessary.”
“Perhaps the thought did cross my mind…only for a moment. It wouldn’t be the first time…” Loki trailed off, staring down at Emma as she looked to be attempting to stuff her fist into her mouth as she made grunting noises and drooled, “Is that…normal?”
“She’s hungry...I need to warm some milk. Would you like to hold her?” Fari asked, lifting the infant from the bassinet without waiting for an answer, transferring her to Loki.
Loki stood stiffly, balancing the baby across his two upturned palms, staring down at it, obviously out of his element.
“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Fari said, observing his demeanor.
“The opportunity has never presented itself…nor have I sought it out,” Loki replied, Fari taking Emma back from him.
“In almost a millennium and a half you’ve never held a baby? Sit,” Fari told him, motioning toward the settee with her head and walking over to it, Loki following her command.
After Loki had seated himself, Fari lowered Emma into his arms once again.
“Like this,” Fari said, adjusting his hold so that he cradled her in a more relaxed and natural manner, “I’ll be back in a moment.”
Fari disappeared once again through the arched doorway, Loki looking down at his charge who stared back at him with hazel eyes.
“This isn’t how I expected this day to play out,” Loki said to Emma, “You have my sympathy regarding your mother...also for being born a mortal, but don’t worry, it will all be over before you know it.”
Sliding an arm out from under her, Loki conjured a handkerchief in his hand.
“You remind me of someone I know. He’d eat his own hand as well if he wasn’t fed,” Loki said, gently moving Emma’s fist from her mouth, wiping the drool from her chin with the handkerchief.
As the infant began to fuss, the handkerchief vanished, Loki moving her up a bit higher in the crook of his arm, holding his hand out flat in front of her, producing an illusion of a wolf chasing its tail in his palm. Emma quieted, intently watching the mini-wolf spin.
“You like that?” Loki asked, “That’s how I feel a great deal of the time, to be honest,” Loki said, closing his hand, opening it again, a miniature fireworks display erupting from his palm.
“You seem to be getting on well,” Fari said as she reappeared from the kitchen after a few minutes with a glass bottle of warm milk topped by a rubber nipple in her hand, a cloth draped over her shoulder.
Seating herself beside Loki she handed the bottle to him, guiding him on the correct angle to hold it as Emma hungrily took the nipple in her mouth, “See? It’s not so difficult.”
“I thought you had no interest in children…that it was in part the reason you left Interdis,” said Loki.
“I never said that. I didn’t wish to be paired, to have no say with whom, for it to be my only purpose.”
“No one else on Interdis has ever rebelled?”
“Not after the Materpalli, the ritual.”
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“What does it entail?”
“I don’t know. No one speaks of it afterward and my mother is the only other present. I only know that when they leave the chamber they’re…different somehow. They question nothing my mother dictates. It takes place once an Interdite comes of age but as a daughter of the Anerak who might possibly take my mother's place in the future I was exempt…you have to burp her.”
“You mean…” Loki said, removing the bottle from Emma’s mouth and forcing a belch himself.
“Her, not you,” Fari chuckled.
“How exactly do I go about that?” Loki asked, the words barely escaping his mouth before Emma turned her head and spit up, a jet of milk arching from her mouth over his lap, splashing on his shoes.
“Too late,” Fari sighed.
“That was quite impressive. I’m reminded of the time I slipped tergant root into Fandral’s ale. It's the strongest emetic in Asgard. It was the last time he boasted about drinking me under the table,” Loki said, utilizing his magic to clean his shoes and the rug.
“Give her the rest and I’ll show you. I had planned to take her for a walk after she was fed.”
“I don’t believe she’s ready to walk quite yet.”
“I walk, she rides in the pram. It's by the door. You didn’t notice that when you came in either, did you.”
“I was joking. I’m not that daft.”
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As they walked the streets of London, Fari pushing Emma in the pram, she took note of how Loki seemed to be reveling in the attention that a baby garners, accepting people’s compliments, mostly from women though from a few men as well, who praised the infant’s beauty and calm temperament as they cooed over her, he neglecting to clue anyone into the fact he wasn’t her father, nor Fari her mother, that they weren’t a happy family out for a stroll. Fari soon found herself sucked into the ruse as well.
After returning to Fari’s flat, as Fari busied herself in the kitchen cooking dinner with the ingredients they’d procured while they were out, Loki took charge of Emma, entertaining her with various illusions before she was ready to be fed once again, Fari peeking through the doorway intermittently to check up on them. Fari watched as Loki placed her in the bassinet, tucking the blanket around her after she had fallen asleep in his arms.
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“Well done,” Loki said to Emma later that evening as she emitted a loud burp near his ear as he held her against his shoulder after finishing the last dregs in the bottle he had just fed her, “That almost put my brother to shame.”
“I’m sorry. I know this wasn’t the day you had planned. You could have gone out and enjoyed yourself. You didn’t have to stay,” Fari, seated beside him on the settee, said as she took the infant from him.
“My mother has always said never to regret an act of kindness regardless of how it is received…though I have many times. This has not been one of them. It’s been a novel experience. It is strange to consider…she’ll have been dead for a couple millennia before we've sprouted our first gray hair. That day would likely come far sooner if we were ever to have our own. I have no doubt that I, and my brother to a lesser degree, are responsible for the vast majority of my father’s.”
“Is that possible?” Fari asked.
“Infinitely. He could likely relate the tale of my specific exploit that’s responsible for any particular one.”
“No...I meant…could we...people of two different worlds…” Fari asked, Loki silent for a moment, thrown off balance by her question, considering his answer.
“I didn’t necessarily mean ‘we’...either of us,” Loki stumbled over his words, “Most humanoid species in the universe are compatible for the purpose of procreation, though there can be…logistical difficulties with particular pairings. You needn’t concern yourself. It’s easily prevented, which I’ve always been diligent about whenever that has been a possibility. My father often charges me with irresponsibility, yet if he knew the number of grandchildren he would likely have scattered across the universe if he was correct in his assessment…”
“I didn’t mean–” Fari began before being interrupted by a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it,” Loki told her, rising and crossing to the door, opening it to find Emma’s father on the other side.
“Artie, come in,” Fari said, standing from the settee with Emma in her arms, “How is Margot doing?”
“Rather well. They believe she’s turned the corner. They may discharge her by tomorrow evening. Her sister will be arriving in the morning to mind Emma and to assist Margot in her recovery after she’s home. I can’t thank you enough for your help,” Artie said before turning to Loki, “You must be the beau my wife and I have heard so much about.”
“Yes. This is Luke King,” Fari said before Loki could respond as she approached the two men.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. King,” Artie said, shaking Loki’s hand, “I understand your business takes you away from the country for long stretches.”
“It does,” Loki replied.
“She didn’t mention you were planning a visit or I wouldn’t have impinged on your time together.”
"She wasn't expecting me. I unexpectedly found myself with a couple of days to spend in the city," Loki replied.
"Well, I hope Emma wasn't too much trouble."
“None at all. The three of us got on quite well,” Fari replied.
“We won’t take up more of your time. I’ll collect her things and return for her," Artie informed her and Loki.
“I’ll get them,” Fari said, turning and heading for another doorway on the opposite side of the sitting room as Artie crossed to the bassinet, Loki following behind him.
“I think we can get it all in one go and save you a return trip,” Loki said, picking up the bassinet.
“Thank you. I suppose it was good practice…for the future, if things work out for you,” Artie told Loki as Fari reentered the room with Emma, a bag slung over her shoulder.
“I’ll take her. Luke has kindly offered his services,” Artie said, approaching Fari and taking the bag from her, putting it over his own shoulder, Fari transferring Emma into his arms.
“Just a moment,” Fari said, disappearing into the kitchen, returning with two bottles, placing them into the bag.
“Thank you again,” Artie told her.
“Anytime. I’ll visit after Margot has settled in. I’ll ring first to be sure it’s a good time,” Fari responded as she walked past them, opening the door for the two men.
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Shortly after returning to Fari’s flat, Loki popped the cork of the champagne he had brought with him, filling the two flutes sitting on the marble table and placing the bottle on it before seating himself on the settee beside Fari.
“I have something else for you,” Loki said, magically conjuring a gift wrapped box the size of a shoebox in the palm of his hand.
“What’s the occasion?” Fari asked.
“Must there be an occasion? Actually, there is. It was on this day two years ago–” Loki began.
“We met,” Fari finished, “I'm sorry...it’s gone by so fast I’ve lost track of time. I’m surprised you would even mark it. It’s different for mortals but for us two years is–”
“The longest I have remained with any one person…or that another has been willing to remain with me,” Loki confessed.
“Their loss is my gain,” Fari said with a smile.
“Open it.”
Fari removed the top of the box, gazing down at its contents before removing an ebony music box, its top inlaid with gold stars. As she opened it, metallic music began to play the notes of a tune already at that time two decades old but still well known on Earth. On the velvet lining lay a necklace, a pendant made of smooth, polished emerald green stone peppered with gold flecks that glistened as they caught the light from above.
“They’re lovely,” Fari said as Loki took the necklace from the box, putting the long gold chain over her head.
“The stone is Lifprasir, one of the rarest gems in Asgard… the universe for that matter...as are you. The box, turn it over,” Loki said, Fari doing so to find a message carved into the wood in runic, painted in gold.
“All my love for all time, L.O.,” Fari read aloud.
“I thought I would have to translate it for you.”
“I can speak and read any language if I’m able to make physical contact with one who knows it. When we first met, before you took my hand I had no idea what you were saying.”
“I saw it in a shop the last time I visited. I collected it on the way here. Few in Midgard can read the old language. For all the artisan who added the message likely knew, it could have said to go make love to your neighbor’s cow,” Loki grinned as Fari giggled, “Maybe I’ll return and have him carve something of that nature into a gift for my brother for Yule.”
As Fari’s laughter subsided, a silence fell between the two, Fari examining the pendant of the necklace.
“What do you think they’d be like?”
“What would who be like?” Loki asked.
"If we were ever to have children."
“Oh," Loki said, taken aback by the question, appearing thoughtful, "They would most definitely be striking as far as looks go, no doubt they would be cunning and full of guile...I’m quite certain the universe isn't prepared for such creatures, nor I believe are we.”
“You’ve said there’s little chance your father will choose you as his heir, that you’re not respected as you should be in Asgard. We could go elsewhere, together, start a new life. There has to be somewhere people like us would be accepted.”
“Xandar…Contraxia, perhaps, though I would never endeavor to raise children there,” Loki replied, “As much as the idea might appeal to me, I’m afraid it’s outside the realm of possibility.”
“Why?”
“A few reasons…my brother has the tendency to charge in where angels would fear to tread. His recklessness could very well cost him his life before he would father children, in which case I would be my father’s sole heir. My mother for another. She taught me all I know. She’s always been there for me. If she were on the throne instead of my father there would have been no question in granting you asylum. I could never abandon her.”
“No, you couldn’t do as I have done. Your mother isn’t like mine.”
“If I take the throne, of course the matter will be settled. You’ll no longer have anything to fear. If my brother is seated on it, I’m certain I can convince him to offer you sanctuary and protection.”
“That could be decades from now. I can’t stay here. Others will notice I haven’t seemed to age.”
“Midgard is a big realm.”
“Yes...of course...you’re right,” Fari replied, doing her best to hide her disappointment.
“I understand...I know it's difficult for you. Perhaps I can find a way to visit more often...to remain longer," said Loki, picking up both glasses of champagne from the table, handing one to Fari, “To two years…and the many centuries yet to come.”
Finishing the toast, the crystal ringing out as they clinked glasses, both raised their flutes to their lips.
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Loki and Fari placed their empty flutes on the table in the cabin, the vessels converting back to mugs, as they returned to the present. Loki locked his gaze on Fari as she stared straight ahead in silence.
“Would you like me to play something?” Loki asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Anything in particular?”
“No.”
Loki left the table, walking to the phonograph, searching once again through the cabinet and selecting one, winding the crank and setting the record playing. The sound of violins and a piano filling the cabin followed by Ruth Etting’s vocals.
“This suspense is killing me. I can’t stand uncertainty. Tell me now, I’ve got to know whether you want me to stay or go…Love me or leave me and let me be lonely, you won’t believe me that I want you only. I’d rather be lonely than happy with somebody else…”
Loki made his way to the fireplace, stoking it before adding another piece of wood, replacing the poker before joining Fari once more as she continued to sit in silence.
“You might find the nighttime the right time for kissing, but night time is my time for just reminiscing, regretting instead of forgetting with somebody else…” Etting sang.
“How do you feel?” Loki inquired after returning to seat himself on the stool beside Fari.
“No different, really. It may take some time.” Fari answered as the record continued.
“There’ll be no one unless that someone is you. I intend to be independently blue. I want your love but I don’t want to borrow, to have it today to give back tomorrow…”
“You should rest,” Loki suggested.
“No...not yet. If this doesn’t work…if it does but not for long enough…if you don’t make it back in time…”
Fari turned to face Loki, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him passionately, Loki returning the kiss before she drew back, placing her palm on his forehead…
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“Strange that Heimdall didn’t see whatever it is coming, only after it had landed,” Loki heard Fandral’s voice say, turning his head to view Fandral on a horse beside him, Loki astride another as they rode across an open valley in Asgard dotted with yellow and white flowers, “Maybe he was distracted, something more titillating catching his interest during its approach. It’s probably nothing, an errant asteroid, a bit of debris from a comet’s tail,” Fandral conjectured.
“If he believed that to be the case, I doubt he’d be wasting our time. He was rather flummoxed as to why he couldn’t make it out. There…” Loki pulled back on the reins of his horse, bringing it to halt, pointing out a thin stream of smoke rising into the Asgardian sky.