Random Norse Bullshit

Chapter 2: A Day In The Snow

"Woohoo!" Loki cackles, balancing on a thin piece of wood, gaining speed as he slides down the steep slope of ice.

Holding onto him tightly, Sigyn screams, breathless and terrified and awed all at once. Neither of them bears the milky-white skin of the Æsir at the moment; the biting cold of the frozen half of Jotunnheim clings to her like a shroud, yet is chased away by his inner fire. Blue and red, they catapult down the mountain, faster and faster and—

"Ready?" he yells over his shoulder, his amused voice torn quickly away by the wind.

Unable to answer over said wind, she presses her face to his back and nods quickly. He tenses very briefly at the extra contact, recovering quickly.

They're twenty feet from the cliff. He grabs her hands, tight around his waist, and spins her around so she's in front of him.

"Be not afraid, my dear," he whispers into her ear, grinning. "This is going to be fun."

Ten feet.

Two feet.

As their makeshift sled crashes into the canyon below, Loki explodes in red and green light, reforming into the largest bird he can manage. Sigyn screams, but he does not let her fall, his talons gripping her arms gently yet firmly.

He cannot truly carry her far, but he can glide safely across the open air, both of them collapsing into the snow on the other side of the canyon.

A shimmer of light, and he is back in the form he usually claims as his own, albeit still glowing in an attempt to keep himself warm. Breathless with effort, he turns to Sigyn, briefly worried he truly scared her.

The maiden is shaking with barely restrained laughter, her form icy but her voice warm, her fluffy coat askew and dress rumpled. She looks very little like a proper noblewoman — more like a mischievous child who can't stop herself from following the boys up trees, no matter how many times her mother scolds her about keeping her clothes clean.

Norns, Loki loves her.

"Did you enjoy it, my dear?" Loki asks. It's an unnecessary question, her joy is plain to see, but he can't help his desire to hear her praise spoken aloud.

"That was incredible!" she says finally, once she has gotten herself under enough control to speak. She looks at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "Can we do it again?"

Loki is not used to having passengers any larger than a child when he plays this game. Even his largest flying form is not really all that big, and carrying her has quite tired him out.

But he is certain he will not drop her if they do it a second time, so he merely smiles and replies, "Of course, my dear, I'd love to."

Her squeal of happiness — so different from the muted smiles she normally shows the world — is well worth the effort.