Chapter 3

It took her a few seconds to register he had spoken, never mind the words he had said. He was so close she could smell him. She had no idea what she might have expected, sweat and dust probably, although that might have been too down to Earth. She didn't exactly expect him to smell like roses, yet there was a distinct floral taste to his aroma. Something exotic. Did everyone smell like that when they came crashing down to Earth from who knows where?
What did he just say?
“Uhm... what?”
“I demand to know who your father is, Frin Dottir.”
His sudden bellow made her close her eyes. Not seeing him sure helped to regain her spirits and making up her mind not to be impressed any longer, she yelled back: “I don't know!”

Her eyes were still closed and she held her breath, waiting for a blow, a hit in the head or some lightning perhaps? When none of that happened, and the exotic floral scent was decidedly lessened, she chanced to open one eye.
He was still in the kitchen, but now he was eying her with an expression she had not seen on his face before. She liked it best so far. It was not so much condescending and more amazed. Seeing he held no big hammer or sword in his hand to wipe her into oblivion, she dared to open her other eye as well.

After a few minutes of staring, which gave her watery eyes from trying not to blink, and a slight increase in heart rate, his appearance suddenly shimmered and for a moment she was afraid he would disappear.
All of a sudden there was a different Loki standing in her kitchen and she had to swallow and blink a few times to get rid of the sudden flames that tried to escape her cheeks.
Holy... It should be illegal to look so devastatingly handsome. He no longer wore a black leather outfit with green cape, but within the blink of an eye he was dressed like a gentleman that run away from a fashion magazine. Dark gray was definitely his color. Light gray would be his color too, and black and blue, or even purple. He looked good in a suit. Period.

When he spoke again, nothing indicated he had ever yelled at her or talked down to her ever before. His tone was polite and quiet and if she wasn't still shaking from their outburst just a few hundred seconds before, she would never have believed him to be real.
“My apologies. I did not expect this. I can see you have no knowledge about your lineage. I wish I could help you search for information, however, being as it is, my stay here is not exactly voluntary, I have no way to roam our records.”

Creasing an eyebrow, and the other one as well, Frin tried to make sense of the words he just said. Wait, was he saying he would help if he could, but he couldn't? He was using way to many words for that. Not necessarily a bad thing, she liked the tone of his voice almost as much as the color of his eyes. Was it really possible to have eyes that green?
“How did you do that?”
He seemed to understand where the jumble that was her brain was referring to, quite the accomplishment under these circumstances. A small smile tugged on the corner of his mouth and Frin felt her heart skip a beat. He wiggled his right hand and all of a sudden there was a banquet on her small kitchen table that would not have stood out of place at a formal palace dinner party.
Reaching for a rim of whipped cream on a small but perfectly decorated cake, the illusion vanished and like a kid who was dragged out of a candy store, she looked at him with large pleading eyes.
He laughed at that and merely shook his head.

He then sat down and started staring at a point somewhere in the far distance that was not her kitchen. Hesitantly she also sat down again. Now was probably a good time to ask him about his purpose here. Didn't he just say something about being here against his will? Was this a banishment? Was this THE banishment? The one she had read about in her mythology books? No, that could not be, he should be tied with the... she shuddered, the entrails of his own son. This guy did not look old enough to have a son, but who knew. Immortals...
So she really believed him to be Loki? It amazed her to admit to herself that she did. His appearance, the way he talked, his magic, or what you would call it. It all fit. Even his green eyes, which were suddenly refocusing on her. He didn't speak nonetheless, so she took a small breath and asked: “You eh... you said you needed a place where you could get some information?” She stated it as a question and when he nodded, she ventured forth: “What kind of information? I mean, couldn't you just have waved your hand and everything would be clear, or something?”
“Not without my rod.”
It was all the answer he gave. Nodding slowly, she waited if there would come more, but he said nothing else.
“Look, if you want me to help you with whatever it is you are looking for, you at least need to tell me what it is... that you are looking for.”
“I'm not looking for anything. I have just found it.”
“Found what?”
“A place to reside while I await the end of my banishment.”

When he said no more and some ten minutes passed by in utter silence, Frin decided that he could do what he liked, but she was hungry. Nobody needed to elaborate his answer. She understood perfectly clear that he decided to stay right here, in her little house. The house with just one bedroom. Her bedroom. There was NO way he was going to go anywhere near that bedroom. She would show him how he could expand the sofa and that would be it. Nobody would gossip, cause nobody could see him, right?
With a little more force than necessary, she slammed the door of the fridge shut and began chopping up some ingredients for an omelet. For one. He could sleep on the sofa, but there was no way she would cook for him.

The omelet was slightly burnt on the edges, due to the fact that she couldn't quite escape the fantasies that invaded her mind about having the gorgeous (stop it, Frin) god of mischief, sitting behind her in a freaking suit.
She decided she was no chicken and turned around, only to find the kitchen table empty. Where did he go?
With some relieve she sat down and ate her omelet in a little less stressful demeanor than had he been there. She would look for him after she was finished.

It didn't take long to search her entire house. She even checked the bathroom, which was the last place she expected him to be, but hey, you never knew. He was not in the house. She walked around the house after that and even checked the little shed that was filled with leftover timber and a broken sink. He was nowhere.
Standing still, overlooking her lake, she began doubting her sanity. Perhaps she did spend to much time staring at the picture that was now in her Math book. Perhaps she was going crazy.
Well, as long as it meant seeing a fantastic guy in a suit, with mesmerizing green eyes once in while, she couldn't really care.

With a shrug she turned and found herself standing only inches apart from that same guy in a suit.
She yelled, waved her hands around in a frantic attempt to remain on the dock instead of in the water and felt herself being pulled forward until she bumped into his chest.
She needed a few minutes to calm down. She really did. Moving away would be a bad thing right now. A very, very, very bad thing. This was very nice. Her hand felt cold where he was still holding her wrist but otherwise she was perfectly content.
“Were you done searching for me?”