The Gift of Friendship

(this story is based off of Journey Into Mystery #632 from a prompt What if Kid Loki had a real friend to celebrate the season with? What sorts of fun and mischief would they get into and how would having a true friend change Loki's fate?)

1

Unexpected

It was Yule in Asgardia, the small piece of Asgard that had landed on Earth after the Serpent had nearly destroyed everything. It was located right next to the town of Broxton, Oklahoma, a sleepy place where nothing had ever happened until the Asgardian gods had crash landed there. The inhabitants were still trying to adjust to their new neighbors with mixed results. To try and foster better relations between the Asgardians and the mortals of Broxton, the three AllMothers—Freya, Gaea, and Idunn—had decided to host a Yule party and invite the mortals of Broxton who wished to attend it. They had enlisted Volstagg the Valiant to play Santa Claus and give out gifts to the children of both realms.

Loki paused before he entered the hall, at thirteen he felt he was too old for Santa Claus or rather silly Volstagg playing the jolly old elf, but he did want to sample some of the sweets they had laid out on the table in the hall, some of which were new to him, like bread pudding with caramel sauce, pecan pie, and several different kinds of cookies. There was also egg nog and some kind of fruit punch and something called mincemeat pies. Loki wondered what kind of meat was in those pies, and hoped it wasn't something disgusting.

He felt Thor's loss keenly around this time, for no one in Asgard really wanted him around, despite the fact that he was no longer his older self and the villain they despised. Yule was supposed to be the time of laughter and celebration and friendship . . . yet young Loki had no one that resembled a friend to share the season with. Or even family. Odin was gone from Asgardia, watching over his brother's dead body and even if he had been there, Loki knew he was not the Allfather's favorite son. He was the misfit. Thor was dead, having sacrificed himself to defeat the Serpent. And with him went the only person who truly had loved and protected the young mischief maker. The rest of them, even those who had promised Thor to protect him, viewed Loki as something to be tolerated—like a rash or a cold.

The snow did not bother the young Jotun, in fact he enjoyed it. The lack of friendship did, even though he would never admit it. He had Ikol, the magpie, but he was more of a wicked counselor than a friend. There was Leah, the handmaid of Hel, but again she had an ulterior motive in watching him for her mistress, and though pretty, she was not someone he trusted. Then too, both of those so-called companions had abandoned him at the moment. Ikol had flown off on his own agenda and Leah had been summoned back to Hela's side.

He heaved a sigh and proceeded to follow the line of children making their way into the hall. Suddenly a large hand grabbed his shoulder and another smacked him on the back. He turned to see three older and bigger boys. Hragnar, Olaf, and Vidrun.

"Hey, Loki," sneered Hragnar, a brawny fifteen-year-old with a shock of reddish hair.

"A merry Yule to you. We have a present for you," brayed Olaf, his piggish eyes cruel in his broad face. He clenched a fist.

Loki tried to back away, but Vidrun caught his shoulders in a painful grip and he could not move. Norns! Now I'm in for it! But he refused to cower before these bullies. Instead he lifted his chin and said softly, "Let me guess. It's the popular gift of a Yuletide fist?"

The others smirked nastily as Olaf drew his arm back.

Loki braced himself for the blow that was coming.

Except it never fell.

Instead Olaf shrieked in pain like a little girl and clutched his backside. "Yeeooow! Something stabbed me!"

Vidrun gaped and so did Hragnar. "What do you mean?"

In the next instant they heard a voice snarl, "And the Grinch, with his Grinchiest grin at the feast took up his knife and he . . . "

Hragnar howled in pain as something stabbed him in the right buttock.

" . . . carved the roast . . ."

Vidrun yelled next as the thing stabbed him twice in the behind.

" . . .Beast!"

They turned to see what in Hel was attacking them, releasing Loki, who backed off against the wall.

Loki knew he should run before his tormentors came at him again, but his insatiable curiosity got the better of him and he lingered to see what manner of creature had just attacked the three bullies.

There was a glint of metal and then the three bullies screamed again as whatever it was sprang from the shadows and bit their behinds. It was green and ugly with yellow eyes and wearing a red hat with a white pom pom atop it, jeans and an old ratty gray hoodie.

"Run! It's a monster!" shrieked Olaf.

"Get away from me-e-e-!" howled Hragnar.

"Help! Father! A beast is after me!" yelped Vidrun.

The three bullies bolted away from the hall as fast as they could run, limping because whatever creature had assaulted them had left bleeding punctures in their backsides.

Loki stared at the diminutive creature, which looked to be only four feet tall. "Greetings. What are you? Oh and thank you for . . . your timely intervention."

"You're welcome," the monster giggled. "Guess they won't be having such a Merry Christmas if they can't sit down!" The monster reached up and pulled at the hat.

To Loki's astonishment the hat and the ugly green face peeled off to reveal a scrawny girl a little younger than himself, with brown hair and hazel eyes. "Hi. I'm Brenna." She held out her hand.

Loki took it and shook it gravely. "Loki. Loki Laufeyson. Did you really stab them with—" he took a glance at the object she held in her other hand along with the mask.

"A fork?" she finished, grinning. "Yup. It was the only weapon I had. I picked it up off the table." She indicated the table of food.

"A fork!" Loki giggled. "I'm impressed, mortal."

She frowned slightly. "Is it true you believe you're gods?"

"Umm . . . well, yes," Loki coughed.

"I didn't know gods got beat up by bullies," she said matter-of-factly. "Thought that only happened to rejects like me."

Loki flushed. "I'm not . . . very popular around here. Without my brother . . ." he sighed sadly.

Brenna's gaze softened. "Did he die? Or go away?"

"Both," Loki replied softly.

"So you're like me then. An orphan," Brenna stated decisively. She tucked the fork inside the pocket of her ragged hoodie.

"What is that creature's face you were wearing?" Loki asked.

Brenna held the mask out to him. "That's the Grinch. He's a character in a book and on a TV show. Ya mean you never saw How the Grinch Stole Christmas?"

Loki examined the mask. "This is very well made. It almost fooled me." He smiled at her. "That was a good trick."

"It was the only thing I could think of when I saw what they were gonna do to you," she said quietly. "I hate bullies. They're all the same. So I gave them what they deserved."

"You have my eternal gratitude," Loki said sincerely, liking this plucky girl. He handed her the mask back.

Brenna tucked it in the pocket of her hoodie. "Thanks, Loki. But I'm kinda hungry so do you think along with the gratitude we could get some supper?"

"Of course we can," he said, and led her into the hall, where they each filled a plate with all kinds of treats and some spare ribs and Brenna swiped some candy off a table and Loki filled two goblets with egg nog and added cinnamon to them. "Come on," he whispered. "Let's go eat somewhere else."

He didn't want Brenna to see how rude and cold his own people were to him, so he brought his small guest down the hall to his room.

He nudged open the door with his toe, still chuckling at the way those three bullies had howled when his tiny defender had stabbed them with a fork!

Brenna's eyes grew wide as she took in Loki's room, which was small and cramped, but filled with new things to her. She walked in like she was in a shrine or a museum, an expression of wonder and awe upon her pixie face. She examined the lamp on a stand and the small trunk where he kept his clothes, the rumpled bed, and his stack of scrolls and spellbooks on the floor and a shelf. "Wow! So this is where you live?"

"Yes. Um . . . excuse the mess . . . I forgot to make my bed," he muttered, embarrassed.

She giggled at that statement.

"What is so amusing?"

"It's just . . . I never thought about gods having to make beds," she grinned.

"I see," he said, thinking perhaps he should be offended but unable to be so because her smile was infectious. He found himself grinning back at her. "Please, sit down."

"On the bed?"

"If you like," he said grandly, then handed her a plate and a goblet of eggnog.

He seated himself crosslegged on the floor with his plate in his lap. "You look like a magpie who has just found a horde of shiny things."

Brenna chuckled. "Well, I feel like Alice when she fell down the rabbit hole. This is so cool!"

"Actually, I find it a bit warm in here."

"No, cool is like amazing, neat, that sort of thing," she explained. "I guess you wouldn't know that if you're not from America." She picked up her goblet of eggnog and smirked. "Merry Yule, Loki!"

"Same to you, Brenna!" he clinked his goblet with hers and they drank.

They finished all the food on their plates and then Brenna reached into a pocket of her hoodie and took out the candy. "Look what I got!" She showed Loki the candy canes and chocolate bars and peppermint balls and chocolate covered marshmallow reindeer.

"Where did you find those?"

"I swiped 'em off a table when nobody was looking." Brenna admitted. "I've got the stickiest fingers in Broxton."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "You mean you stole this?"

"Uh huh. Does that bother you?" she asked, suddenly fearful she had offended him.

He shook his head. "No, not much. I . . . err . . . I've lifted a few things in my day."

She rolled her eyes. "Really, Loki? In your day? What are you, somebody's grandpa? You're a kid like me."

"I'm older than you," he pointed out.

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"Only by two years. I'm eleven and a half."

She set the plate down on the floor and looked around again, her hazel eyes bright with curiosity. "So . . . what do you do all day? Do you go to school? Or have a job?"

"I do have lessons. But not formal ones. With a tutor, I mean. There aren't any here in Asgardia that . . . well, they aren't here so I study whatever I like," he replied.

"You do? Awesome!" she rose and walked over to the shelf and stared at the books on it. "What language are these in?"

"Old Norse. Some of them. Others are in the language of runes. Magic. Why?"

She turned around and looked as though she were about to fall on the floor at his feet. "You can do magic?"

"Yes. Some," he said modestly.

"Then you won't . . . if I told you something . . . you promise you won't think I'm weird? Or a freak?" she asked hesitantly.

Loki shook his head. "I promise."

"Sometimes . . ." she looked down at the floor. " . . . sometimes I can see into people's dreams. Like I'm there. Somehow. And sometimes . . . I know things without knowing how." She hunched her shoulders. "People . . . people called me a freak . . . the devil's child . . ."

She felt warm hands on her shoulders. Startled, she jerked her head up. Hazel eyes met emerald ones.

"I know one thing. You are no devil. I have met real ones. And you are nothing like them."

"Then what am I?"

"You are not a freak. You're a Dreamweaver."

"A what?"

"A Dreamweaver. Someone that can control and walk other people's dreams," he explained. "And maybe a bit of a Seer too."

"How—how do you know that?"

"I'm a magician. I know." He said confidently. He wasn't entirely sure how he knew, but he knew he was not mistaken. "So don't . . . don't ever let anyone tell you differently, Brenna."

She blinked up at him, a tremulous smile curving her mouth. "I . . . have magic? Like you?"

"Different magic. But yes, you do."

"Wow!" she looked as if he handed her the key to Asgard's Vault. Abruptly her smile dimmed, like a candle that had been snuffed out.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not normal, Loki. Ordinary people don't have magic like me. I'm still a—"

"Don't!" he put a finger to her lips. "Don't say it!"

"Why?" she flared. "It's true!"

"No!" He shook his head. "Look. We are normal. For us. What does it feel like when you use your magic?"

"It feels . . . like the best thing in the world. Like my birthday and Thanksgiving and Christmas all rolled up into one," she admitted.

"That's how it feels to me too. Now what's not normal about that?" he queried.

"Nothing," she muttered.

"Besides, who is to say they aren't the unnatural ones and we are normal?" he returned. "I was born with the magic. And so were you. It's in our blood. And there is no shame in it. None."

She met his eyes again and in them he saw a slow flicker of hope. "You—you really believe that?"

"I do. I swear by the Nine."

Her small hands closed over his and she smiled. "Then—then I will try to believe it too."

"Good. Now let's eat our candy." His teeth flashed brilliant white.

"Okay."

They each selected a piece of candy. Loki chose a candy cane and sucked it. Brenna picked a chocolate bar. They ate them happily.

Abruptly, Brenna stood up. "Hey, Loki. Let's blow this popsicle stand."

"Excuse me?" he gave her a puzzled glance.

"It means, let's get outta here. And do something fun." She gave him a gamine grin.

"Such as?"

"C'mon!" she beckoned to him.

He followed her from his room, only then realizing something. This fork-wielding pixie Dreamweaver had become something he had never expected. She had become an unlikely friend. Really, Loki? mocked a voice that sounded like Ikol. Friends with a mere mortal? How pitiful! He irritably told the voice to shut the Hel up and then caught up to his new friend, a joyous smile lighting up his face for the first time since he had lost Thor.

A/N: Next chapter~ see what mischief the two friends get up to.

Please note I am still continuing to write my other Loki story Somewhere Over Bifrost.