a truce 

If Leah stayed in this cabin another moment longer, she feared she would go mad.  A demon Helhound and an equally demonic magpie weren’t exactly the greatest companions to have, cooped in a small room with nothing to but to feed and look after them.  With Loki as an adult and gallivanting who-knows-where and doing who-knows-what, she had little else to do until the spell wore off and he was back to his regular self again—a child, and the Loki she preferred most of all.  The adult Loki was nothing like the imbecile she was used to looking after.  He was quick-tongued and prone to insult, and when he looked at her, she saw no goodness in him like she saw in his younger self.  He loathed her as much as she could bring herself to loathe him.  But no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t hate him.  The adult Loki was a part of the child Loki; they were one and the same.  Hating the adult version of himself would mean that she hated the child version from within, and that was something Leah feared she could never do.  She would never admit it, she would rather die than to admit it, but she cared about Loki—and it pained her so to be in odds with a part of the Loki she cared about.

But moping in this smelly cage of a cabin would do nothing and would solve nothing.  She still had a purpose, a mission to fulfill.  At Hela’s bidding, she was still to monitor and look after Loki’s whereabouts, though this would prove to be quite troublesome until he returned to the body of a child. Until then, Leah was stumped.  And it wasn’t like she could leave the cabin whenever she wished; she always took Loki’s pets for food and for walks when his brother Thor was elsewhere preoccupied.  Leah wasn’t entirely certain whether Loki had told his brother she had been residing in his quarters for some time.  If he had known and left her to her own devices, good.  If he had not known at all, she would certainly not blow her cover now.  Leah sat up from Loki’s bed.  She could not sleep, being a Dead’s keeper and all, but being in such a familiar spot reminded her of how Loki slept and how much he seemed to be at peace in his slumbering hours.  It was comforting to remember the child’s former presence at all.  But now, the magpie Ikol and the Helhound Thori were watching her.  If she didn’t take them out for their daily walk soon, Thori would surely make a ruckus of things with that filthy mouth of his and ruin her hiding place.  And if her cover was blown, where was she to go?  To that abysmal cave Loki had the nerve to leave her in once?  … Perhaps.  She had nowhere else to go but there, and with her mistress needing her on Midgard, she could not hope to return to Hel, where she would much rather like to be.  She’d rather be in Hel where she was at least tolerated by her mistress, not on Midgard where both sons of Odin seemed to detest every fiber in her being.  Leah stood up, dusting off her dress.

"All right.  Come on, you two.  Let us be off before your master’s brother awakens," she muttered.  "And not a word out of you, Thori, and if you so much as leave me a gift, I shall not be cleaning it up.”

She was about to reach out for the doorknob when it started rattling.

  1. thorthesonofodin reblogged this from sacrificeisinmynature and added:
    Folding his arms across his chest, Thor gave a slightly judging look, raising a brow and leaning back into the seat. “I...
  2. sacrificeisinmynature reblogged this from thorthesonofodin and added:
    Faith. That was a funny word, an unfamiliar word. Leah knew what the term meant, but she had little need for “faith,”...