bouquet-ardent-de-muses

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

bleedingflames‌:

“Alas, that is not my way.”

“You’re still valid.”

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

bleedingflames‌:

“Most people get love and sex entangled.  Or likin’ at the very least.  Makes things better in my opinion.” 

“Sure, sure... But if you’re not looking for anything more than a good time, well...”

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

bleedingflames‌:

“Well, yeah.  I know that much.  I just meant more emotionally than physically.” 

“...what do emotions have to do with it?” Honestly clueless, this one.

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

bleedingflames‌:

“That might get messy, not t’mention exhausting.” 

“Sex - good sex, even - is supposed to be both, so I don’t see a problem here.”

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

bleedingflames‌:

“Hell yeah we are.”

“I don’t know about this rating system the man with the white hair was talking about, but if I were the sort, I’d sleep with the lot of you.”

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

“...but really, aren’t you all just beautiful creatures?”

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

“...I think a couple of ‘Our Father’s’ would be a bit more appropriate, actually...”

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

mayhem-god‌:

Well. that didn’t tend to happen often; it didn’t happen at all as he’d expected– largely because it did happen at all.

The rose grew in her hand easily, instantly, beautifully blooming like it was happy to respond to her call. Loki blinked, but then after a few moments gave a little smile. 

“Aye. …It seems to like you. Fancy that.”

Mary was too busy staring at what was happening in her hands to pay any attention to Loki’s reactions, watching as the rose bloomed and grew like it had absolutely nothing else to do.

“Maybe it knows how much I love plants and growing things...”

She looked up at him then, positively beaming at him.

“...this is going to make things so much easier going forward. Thank you, Loki. Truly.”

Something Familiar

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

mayhem-god‌:

“Here.”

Loki took his hand back to carefully take the comb from her hand. He plucked one of the lavender flowers from the comb, it parting like it was straight from the earth. 

The comb seemed to glow just the slightest bit, enough so it might have been imagined. 

And in the lavender’s place very suddenly grew a marigold. 

“It responds to your wish. A silent prayer, a plea to Yggdrasil’s offspring. …It will grow fonder of you over time, and will grow bigger, brighter flowers.” He handed it back with a little pat on her hand. “Try.”

Mary watched with eyes wide open as Loki demonstrated how the comb worked, doing her best to follow along so she didn’t miss anything.

Surely, it couldn’t be that simple... Could it?

But he was insisting that she try, so she took the comb back and thought very carefully about what she wanted.

I do need a new rose bush...

And there it was, and she was able to carefully pluck the flower from the comb, her eyes full of wonderment as she looked back up at Loki.

“...this is fucking incredible...”

Something Familiar

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

mayhem-god‌:

An eyebrow raised and he gave another sly look. Clearly he was going to just say ‘magic,’ but it meant little to a witch.

“…The comb was crafted from the ivory innards of the World Tree. The tree of life, of creation, that holds the realms together. I don’t begin to try and understand how Yggdrasil’s magic functions. Frigga likely couldn’t either. …But it was a gift from the courts of the Aesir, an heirloom to her.”

His eyes closed for a moment. “I can only tell you what she told me, and unfortunately she was explaining the complexities of natural conjuration magic to a child.”

Loki had quite literally given her a precious family heirloom, a thing of magic and beauty that he couldn’t describe and maybe that just made it even better.

Mary wanted to cry.

And hug him again, though he’d barely tolerated the hug from her earlier and would likely have much of the same reaction now.

“Well, you telling me now would be like explaining it to an infant, so...” She shrugged, but gave his hand another squeeze as she kept beaming at him.

“...so I just... What? Touch it and it gives me the seeds?”

Something Familiar

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

mayhem-god‌:

“Her beauty as an envy across the nine realms. Much of her was.”

The hand on his was maybe surprising, but it was hardly unwelcome. It was hard to read the sadness on his face, but he was a particularly hard read across the board.

But it was there in his eyes, if only distantly. “…She used this comb to plant gardens across Asgard. Each herb replenishes, and changes to your will. Anything you can imagine.” 

As Loki started to explain, Mary’s eyes once more dropped to the comb in her hand, though the hand resting over his squeezed just a hint, a constant reassurance of sorts.

“Anything I-” She was trying to wrap her head around what he was telling her, but she knew he wasn’t lying. That would be a terribly cruel joke to play, and while he was capable of it, she felt like this was one of those instances where he wouldn’t.

He’d just said she looked like his mother, after all.

She raised her head to meet his gaze again. “...how does it work?” A beat. “And don’t say ‘magic.’”

Something Familiar

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

mayhem-god‌:

His wry smile was back at the answer, and Loki lifted his hand to produce what looked like a perfectly wrapped little box out of thin air. It floated over to her, and dropped gently on the table.

And inside of it, upon unwrapping, was a porcelain hair comb, etched with old runes and beautiful ivy patterns. But most prominently were the flowers– fresh by the smell of them, sewn into the end of the comb to likely sit perfectly in her hair. Lavender, hops, and vervain complimented it perfectly.

And Loki’s smile was fond, almost warm, touched bittersweet.

“…The Herbal Font,” he spoke softly. “It belonged to the goddess Frigga, Frig, Freya, depending on where you’re from. …My mother, in a sense.”

“I thought you could get use out of it. And it would look… nice on you.” There was nothing dishonest in the way Loki spoke then, his smile turned soft and sad. “You look like her, you know. A spitting image.”

Mary was careful as she unwrapped the gift, not really sure what to expect - though, despite her patron’s usual tilt towards mischief, she somehow doubted this to be anything of the kind - but her eyes lit up in surprised delight at the sight of the hair comb, and she immediately pulled it out of the box to inspect it more thoroughly.

“Loki, this... This is beautiful!” She was carefully running her fingers over it with one hand while it sat in the palm of the other, and when she looked back up to him, he’d see a few grateful tears lingering in the corners of her eyes.

“And it was your mother’s? That’s...” She didn’t have the words, but she reached out with her free hand then to rest it over his, noting the sudden look of sadness that crept across his features.

You look like her... A spitting image.

“I-I do? That’s a surprise...”

Something Familiar

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

mayhem-god‌:

“More or less,” Loki drolled, sinking into his seat. “More an annoying aunt.”

“My mother did like to point out invasive questions, though…” his eyelids lowered. “So direct, always.” 

The talk had certainly been something.

“This brings me to my present. Are you ready for it, or?”

“Aunt Mary! Ha!”

She actually enjoyed that, and was certainly giggling still, though her look turned fond again at the mention of his gift for her.

“Gods, I’d almost forgotten... Yes, please. Thank you, Loki.”

Something Familiar

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

mayhem-god‌:

“Ugh.”

He was about to be happy she got off of it until she made the last comment. It wasn’t not true, but he still preferred not discussing it all the same.

Or denying it, anyway. But it was fairly immature to make up lies about this.

“Alright, well, remind me not to wax romantic with you again…”

“I’m sorry, I’m being too much of a mother, aren’t I?” She was laughing still, but there was perhaps a note of contriteness in her eyes as they locked with his again.

“I’ll leave it be.” She was waving her hands as if to clear the air. “Please, let’s move on and talk about something else.”

Something Familiar

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

mayhem-god‌:

Alright, that made him choke a little bit on his beer. It was entirely rare to see him flustered, but the rapid blinking and suddenly hard stare definitely was.

 “No-- that’s not– by the Norns, Mary, I’m an immortal god, there’s no such thing as a dry spell for me. How utterly human of you to make such assumptions.”

But his next sip was very long. (about as long as the latest dry spell).

Was it possible that Mary had misread the signals? Sure. But she doubted it. She wasn’t going to push it though.

Much.

“You’re being respectful. That’s good of you. I’m sure she appreciates it. I suppose it’s not a dry spell if you’ve entered into it willingly.”

Something Familiar

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

mayhem-god‌:

“Sure. Sure.”

But Loki would likely always have relationship problems as long as he was in a relationship. It was hard to balance being ‘gentlemanly prince’ and ‘god of fucking mayhem’ without stepping on toes or causing discontent. “I’m sure I’ll live. She seems to like me well enough, even after the chaos. That’s well and good.”

“No one ever died from a lack of sex, Loki,” Mary replied, voice gently teasing though it was clear that she still had a bit of sympathy for him.

“Lack of love though?” Her head tilted to the side as she made a ‘tsk’ sound with her teeth.

“That’s a bit more real. And me? I’d rather focus on that, let sex happen when it will. When the time’s right... It’ll happen.”

Or it wouldn’t, but at least they’d still have each other.

Something Familiar

[bouquet-ardent-de-muses]

mayhem-god‌:

Loki didn’t seem exactly caught off guard. He sipped his beer and leaned into his armrest, watching the bubbles.

“It’s an enlightening thing, hearing your own story played out, perhaps. Hearing how you talk about those close to you.” His smile turned almost joking. “I’m not really very efficient with close relationships with a lover. I conquer worlds, but love has me waxing sad poetry.”

“…But I always hold back, Mary. I am a god of secrets.”

Mary had been in the process of getting another glass of ale when Loki spoke up finally, so it took a moment for her to return her gaze to him, but it was fairly clear that she’d put something of two and two together.

“I’ve been single for thirty years, Loki. I completely understand.”

Something Familiar