Day: March 8, 2014

The picnic, part II

I… I hardly know where to begin. The picnic was going so well. Sigyn liked everything, including the mug with her face. She approved of the flowers and the cheese. We both admitted a fondness for cookies.

She was properly respectful of the future King of Midgard, but she wasn’t intimidated by Loki, magician and warrior. She seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me. I am so used to my reputation preceding me–it was surprising (and wonderful) to have what amounted to a clean slate. For the first time I can remember, I felt no desire to punch someone.

And I learned so much about her! She likes music and fat novels and collecting glass paperweights. She has been in this realm somewhat longer than I have. She came to raise horses with her half-sister. (Imagine my delight upon learning that she is only partially related to that horned menace, Gunnehilde.)

I had just worked up the courage to try to hold her hand when the menace herself appeared! And with her words, my shiny new world shattered.

"Come, Sigyn," she said. "Leave this villain. Your betrothed is waiting."

Betrothed? My Sigyn is betrothed to another?! I have no doubt any man would love her, but it never crossed my mind that she might already have given her heart.

A battle ensued. I was tempted to turn Gunnehilde into a slug and apply salt, but I was reluctant to sadden my Sigyn. I could not hurt Gunnehilde, but she had no such limitations. I could but defend myself. Before I could formulate a plan, Gunnehilde had bundled Sigyn onto her horse, grabbed the reins, and towed her away beyond my sight.

In all of the confusion, Sigyn was able to gasp out one parting utterance, and upon this I have pinned my hope and sanity: The betrothal is not of Sigyn’s choosing. I may yet win her! My poor flower! Hold fast! I shall find you! And as long as I live, you will not be wed against your will. I, Loki, vow this…

Advertisements

The picnic, part I

I scarcely slept last night for thinking about today. I was up at dawn, fretting about the weather. It is not the sunniest day for a picnic, but spring is definitely in the air.

On my way here I found some wildflowers growing and picked them for my beloved. (The human female says they are called "ragwort," which is a horrible name, but they are bright and cheerful.)

I have laid out a nice little meal under the Courting Tree–fruit and cheese and crackers and a loaf of fresh bread. I have cold milk and some cute mugs to drink it from. (I magicked Sigyn’s lovely face onto one of them so she will know it is hers.) For dessert, I have an assortment of cookies. (I do like cookies. Why do we not have them in Asgard? Sometimes I think my life would have been very different if I had only had cookies growing up…)

I even have some grass for the horses.

I hope she will like all of this But… What if her taste runs to huge, meaty feasts, which is possible, since she is of the Aesir…? What if she is a vegetarian (rare in Asgard, but they do exist) or dislikes cheese? Should I change things? Should there be wine instead of milk? Would that be better? Do I need to go get something else?

Helmet on or off? Is my armor too intimidating? Should I have worn something else?

Oh, here she comes! What shall I do? What shall I say?! I was never so frightened facing frost giants or legions of berserkers. What if she doesn’t like me? What if…..

(later)

I needn’t have worried. She is perfection itself. It is all going very– Oh, no!