Chapter Text
The time went rapidly; they acquired phones first, then moved further into the shopping center to take care of the rest of business. She worked fast, explaining that shopping wasn’t her favorite under the best of conditions, and her purchases were done quickly. She spent the most time in the shoe store trying to find replacements for the boots that had been destroyed beyond repair during the battle, and soon it was Loki’s turn. She parked herself near the fitting rooms, occupying herself with setting up his phone while he browsed; he noticed that she seemed at relative peace, so he was able to take his time.
Bags in hand, they emerged into the cool afternoon and loaded everything into the back of her SUV. They stood together for a moment.
“Better?” he asked, just as his stomach growled.
She laughed a little, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Not quite, apparently. Come on. Let’s find some dinner.”
Aeslin was silent as she drove toward the edge of the city, and Loki could see in her carriage that the steel was sliding from her body. Her jaw was clenched ever so slightly, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. She chose a small, out of the way place with few cars in the parking lot and pulled in.
Loki kept his hand at the small of her back as they entered. The hostess greeted them, and Aeslin stared at her a little numbly.
“Back here, if possible,” Loki said, steering Aeslin toward an empty booth in the corner and drawing the hostess up in his wake. “And if you’d be so kind as to forget about us for the next several minutes, it would be greatly appreciated.”
The booth was high-backed, for which he was grateful; he guided Aeslin into the seat and took the one across from her, allowing himself a good angle of the restaurant and shielding her from the general view. As Loki watched, the last of her fight finally drained away, and she dropped her head into her folded arms, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. He reached across the table, hand stroking along her hair, and waited.
A movement to his right, and he looked up, a little irritated, to see a server’s retreating back. Two glasses of water and a thick stack of napkins lay on the table, and Loki glanced back up with a bit of surprise, thinking to thank the girl, but she was already out of sight. He turned back to Aeslin instead, pushing the napkins closer with his free hand, his fingers keeping their soothing motion.
Long moments passed before she raised her head; Loki swept a few tendrils of hair from her face and tucked them behind her ear but said nothing.
“It wasn’t mine anymore,” she said softly. “Seven months. I hadn’t lived there for seven months. Two visits, less than an hour all told.” She added a crumpled napkin to the small pile she’d already accumulated and picked up another. “It was like I’d never been there before, like it belongs to someone I don’t know anymore. Someone who doesn’t exist.” Aeslin shredded the napkin gently in her hand. “It felt like trespassing. I don’t think I can go back.” She looked at him, memory clinging to the edges of her face, and she shook her head. “I don’t think I want to.”
“Then don’t. It’s not your only option.”
“Stark.”
A slight shrug. “If you want, and that’s not even the only one. There’s a whole realm out there, àstin.”
“I don’t think I know what I want anymore.”
“You will eventually,” he said. “Trust yourself.”
He wasn’t sure if the words were right or not, but they were enough to set her off again, and he resumed his steady pattern.
“You can’t want this,” she told him eventually.
“What?” he asked in return. “Having dinner with a kind, brilliant, beautiful woman? I mean, minus the dinner bit, but I’m optimistic it will show up some time.”
That earned him a baleful glare; the effect was dampened slightly by the sniffle that accompanied it, and Loki gave her a half-smile.
“Being a nursemaid.” She tossed a final napkin onto the teetering pile, leaning back at last, and Loki breathed an inward sigh of relief. The worst seemed to be past for now.
“Ah,” he said, leaning back as well and making eye contact with a server who was going to be earning herself a hefty sum for being as patient as she was. She came over, snagging a wastebin as she did so, and Aeslin refused to make eye contact with her as she shoved the pile of napkins across the table and into the wire basket.
“Any recommendations?” Loki asked the girl, checking her name badge.
“Bryn,” the girl replied to his scrutiny, then proceeded to rattle off several options. Loki glanced at Aeslin, who shrugged.
“Two specials,” he said after a moment’s thought, “but leave the peppers off hers, if you can.”
“No problem,” the girl replied with a smile and headed off to the kitchen.
He twined their fingers on the table between them. “You’re right, you know,” he went on as though there had been no interruption. “I’m going about this all wrong. I should be showering you in flower petals at every opportunity. Seducing you behind every plant, including ones that are too small to conceal any sort of inappropriate behavior from innocent bystanders. Assaulting you with poetry at every turn. Strumming harps, warbling poorly-conceived love songs at the top of my lungs, and pelting you with gifts until either you’re unconscious or you see reason at last, because that, my darling, is just what you need right now.”
Bryn popped back to the edge of the table. “Dessert first? Meals are going to take a while, and you two look like you could use a bit of cheering up.” Loki blinked up at her. “It’s part of the special,” she explained. “Lemon meringue okay?”
“Of cour-” he got out before she slid two plates in front them with silverware following close behind.
“Meals in a few,” she said. “Tell me how you like it; it’s one of Alec’s specialties.” With that, she was gone again.
Loki tried an experimental bite, then another. “Gods,” he managed after a second, eyes closed. “Gods, Kindle. Months. I’ve been on this realm for months, I’m only now learning about this?” He held up a gentle finger. “No, don’t speak. This place might be salvageable after all.” He took another bite.
“Think of it this way,” he said after taking a moment to stifle a noise of sheer joy. “Imagine that you’re wandering, minding your own business, and you stumble upon the remains of a battle. A vicious one. The carrion birds have come and gone, and it’s clear that there are none left alive. Except.” He gestured with his fork. “Except, there, at the edge of the battle, you discover a survivor. Closer to dead than alive, bleeding out right there on your feet, too proud or unable to ask for the help that only you’re in a position to give. So tell me, Kindlesdaughter. When faced with such a sight, what do you do?” He paused again. Whoever this ‘Alec’ was had a gift, and it was not to be wasted.
“I’ll give you a hint,” he went on. “You don’t seduce them. You stop the bleeding as best you can. You bind their wounds. You take them from the battle and find them somewhere safe, and then you let them heal. You let them regain their strength. Their hope. You give them room to find their feet again. To let the edges close enough that they can stand by themselves. To find their own path. And once that’s done?” He grinned. “Then you seduce them. Not a moment before, and only if they seem amenable.”
Their food arrived then, and Loki surrendered his dessert plate with a little reluctance.
“And you’re fine with that,” she said with a bit of disbelief coloring her tone.
“Never said it would be easy for me,” he answered, “but yes. And you’re right. I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this for you. I’d take it away, if I could, but since I can’t, I’ll do whatever else I can. Just a redistribution of duties for both of us, if you will.”
“So what are my new duties, then?”
“Easy things. The ones that only you can do. The basics. Sleeping. Driving. Eating. Bathing.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Though I might be convinced to help you with that last one.” He dodged the crust of bread she threw at him with a mischievous grin.
“And yours?”
“Everything else,” he said easily. “Whatever you can’t or don’t want to do in that moment. We’ll figure it out. We’ve done all right so far.”
They ate in companionable silence for a moment, until Bryn returned. “Pie to go?” she asked. “You two don’t look like this is your last stop tonight.”
Loki looked at Aeslin with the universal ‘why not?’ expression. “We’ll take two,” he said to the young woman. “And the check, if you please.”
She cleared their plates, returning in only a few moments with two small boxes. “Meal’s on the house,” she told them.
“Thanks?” Aeslin responded, her confusion apparent. The girl self-consciously pointed back over her shoulder at the small television mounted on the wall behind the counter.
“The news has been on non-stop. They’ve had some pretty um… clear footage,” she explained with a significant look between the two of them. “And we have a lot of regulars with family up there who’ve been paying really close attention.”
Aeslin looked a little embarrassed. “Oh,” was all she said, and Loki cleared his throat.
Bryn quirked her lip. “So if you don’t want to get swarmed,” she told them kindly, “you’ll probably want to head out. Dinner rush will start any minute.”
***
They didn’t make it as far as Loki thought they might, but he realized it was probably for the best. Leaving Washington had drained her; two more hits to a soul already exhausted. The diner had probably made it worse, despite Bryn’s best intentions.
The sun had already set by the time she emerged from the lobby of the hotel; she walked quickly back to the car with her head bent against the chill.
“One room,” she said, shutting her door behind her. “Two beds. I hope that’s all right.”
He smiled, oddly comforted by the idea of company. “That’s just fine by me.”