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2021-07-01
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2022-01-03
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Emeralds and Rainclouds (Loki/OFC)

Summary:

Her eyes caught his attention at first glance. If his were emeralds then hers are rainclouds – a dark somber, ancient gray that screamed with unseen, unheard words, thoughts, and emotions hidden under a mask of tranquility.

He looked down at the Words adorning his wrist. The first words she would ever say to him, words that spoke more than they mean to.

She always thought that her soulmate would be of higher social status or at least had been born into wealth of some sort due to the words on her skin.

Unlike most Words on other people’s skin, hers were in an entirely different language altogether. It took her years before she realized that the Words on her skin were in Old Norse.

What if Loki hadn't fell to the control of the Mind Stone? What if he had found someone that had been there when he needed them most? What if he had warned the Avengers of Thanos' plot sooner? What if he had gotten the happy ending he desperately needed?

Let us see what Fate has installed for Loki and his soulmate, shall we?

Notes:

A/N: Hey guys! How are you? EEEEP! *ducks behind the couch to avoid the tomato projectiles*

I KNOW!! I'm supposed to be updating my stories, particularly "Hyrrokkin and the Boneless". Which I'm working on but chapter 11 is a pain in the butt to write!! The other stories ...... well, I think I'm gonna call quits on most of them. Mostly due to a severe lack of motivation, time, and energy.

I am still working on the extended version of "Dark Lord's Heart" as well. I got the first four Harry Potter books a few months ago, but I haven't had the time to read them because of school and life at home. So, as soon as I'm able, I'll get to working on that.

ANYWAYS!! Now that's off my chest, let me get into this story.

If any of you remember, a few years ago I had another Loki/OFC story called "Stolen Mortality" up here. *looks at the document currently in the recycling bin* That was a total disaster. I have no idea why I had even written such trash that even my completely amateur 11-year-old self would have cringed at.

I have attempted *keyword - attempted* writing other Loki/OFC stories in the past. "Stolen Mortality" had been my 4th attempt at writing one and we all know how that turned out.

I have more chapters written out already. I'm up to four or five I think. And I will add them in as I edit and flesh them out accordingly.

So, I'm desperately hoping that this one would be better and that you all enjoy reading it too. The Tags will be adjusted as I write the story so don't be surprised if I add in or remove a few in the near future.

Anyways, I won't keep any of you here any longer.

Hope you all enjoy reading "Emeralds and Rainclouds" :D!!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Introduction

          Emeralds watched from a distance full of intrigue and sharp intensity. Such a gaze is rare as a cold indifference usually takes its place. Earlier that morning Words took place and form on pale skin.

          Magic came in abundant usefulness in tracking down his Bonded. To feel the cold pulsing rawness of his seidr coursing through him gave him a powerful advantage over most. Lauded for such power, he is not. Scorned, ridiculed, discriminated against is more the norm despite his status as Prince. The sword and shield are far more acceptable than a man wielding seidr when it is a woman’s art.

          However, seeing his Bonded through the aid of magic – in the far, far future - washed away all the years of alienage. She is Midgardian, that much is certain, from her very surroundings and her state of dress. This led to even more intrigue as emerald eyes watched her weave through the bustling crowd with her gaze towards her feet, shoulders curled inward, and one hand in a pocket of sorts. This all screamed, “I’m not to be bothered in the least”.

          She is a tall woman with an abundantly lush curvature that would be the envy of even Asgardian women hidden under an oversized knee-length shawl of all things. Her dark brown hair fell in thick curls down to her waist gleaming with rich amber honey under the weak sunlight. Her skin is incredibly pale possibly more so than his own highlighted by her hair.

          However, her eyes caught his attention at first glance. If his were emeralds then hers are rainclouds – a dark somber, ancient gray that screamed with unseen, unheard words, thoughts, and emotions hidden under a mask of tranquility.

          He looked down at the Words adorning his wrist. The first words she would ever say to him, words that spoke more than they mean to. “I’m not that beautiful. Pretty, maybe. But not beautiful.”

          The utterly despicable evidence of his Bonded’s perception of her self-worth couldn’t be more obvious than a blow to the face. And if Loki had any say in it, and he most certainly did, he would have her believe that she is as beautiful as he believed her to be.

Chapter 2

Notes:

A/N: Okay, so here's that next chapter I mentioned in the Author's Note at the end of the Introduction.

I want to apologize and warn everyone ahead of time that this chapter has quite a bit of angst in it. It's not soaked or riddled with angst, but just enough to see and feel the tension.

That being said, there may or may not be some trigger warnings for those who are in unstable family situations similar in this chapter. I wanted to try something different from my usual writing style while keeping my OC as relatable as possible. If I offend anyone by doing so, then I deeply apologize in advance.

Hope you enjoy reading "Emeralds and Rainclouds" :D!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter One

          She always thought that her soulmate would be of higher social status or at least had been born into wealth of some sort due to the words on her skin.

          “I wonder what a beautiful Midgardian woman such as yourself sits by all her lonesome on such a day?” Is what is shown on her left hipbone every time she looks at it. Even with such lofty words, it is nice to know that her soulmate found her at least somewhat attractive.

          Unlike most Words on other people’s skin, hers were in an entirely different language altogether. It took her years before she realized that the Words on her skin were in Old Norse. Imagine her immense surprise that using Icelandic, the absolute closest language to Old Norse she can get her hands on, to translate her Words did wonders for her linguistic curiosity.

          It shortly after that, that she realized why. The word ‘Midgardian’ stood out to her like a bloodstain on a white shirt. Combined that with Old Norse, well, she couldn’t help but think that maybe her soulmate isn’t even human.

          Growing up as the middle child to a somewhat poor family had been hard. Because all her parents focus – mostly her mother’s – would be split between her elder and younger siblings. It left much to be desired, and it made her already introverted personality even more introverted because of it.

          She got what she needed but not always what she wanted. Her siblings would either get it first or when she gets the courage to ask there is always either, ‘There’s not enough money right now. Maybe next time.’ Or it is ‘Sure, we’ll see about it this weekend.’ And when the weekend does get there, her mother is always suspiciously busy with something else entirely. It had gotten to a point where she just simply stopped asking altogether and told herself to be grateful with what she had and be done with it.

          Then her mother would ask why, and she couldn’t help but look at her as if questioning her sanity, shrug and say, “Because.” And left it at that.

          Then the nagging would come pushing and prodding which would only be rewarded with angry stony silence that her mother couldn’t begin to comprehend even if she did blatantly spell it out for her the reasons why. Then came the accusations, the deflection, more nagging, total contradictions, 2–3-hour lectures that served almost no purpose to the actual conversation whatsoever, and the feeling of just wanting it done and over with so she can be alone for the rest of the day.

          Her father understood where she came from since having been married to her mother for 30+ years can do that. He understood her because he too had a mostly similar mentality and personality she did. Having a supercomputer for brains can do that to anyone really.

          Well, not actual supercomputers, that is way too much Star Trek and AI-related for her liking. Just mostly the hyper activeness of brainwaves, restless sleep resulting in acute insomnia, and not being able to filter most of anything going in or out of their brains. They weren’t Mutants, Enhanced, or anything related to that. At least, she didn’t think so. Nothing as remarkable anyways besides the genetics they were born with is all.

          There were days where she would feel the crushing loneliness and desperation for her soulmate. Where her fingers would trace her Words either knowingly or unknowingly. Where she would cry herself to sleep wishing and hoping that her soulmate would be there to comfort and protect her from the harsh realities of the world. Where she would cry again when she woke up the next morning filled with despair and disappointment.

          It gotten so bad that she did something she never thought she would do. She got together with a boy she met in high-school and stayed with him for three years. She stayed out of fear of being alone again, desperate to feel wanted even if it had been just a taste of what could be.

          At 19, she became single again because he had found his soulmate and promptly told her that she wasn’t good enough and probably wouldn’t be for her soulmate. That had been beyond cruel, and it shredded what fragile self-esteem she had to begin with. Despite her own turbulent emotions, she wished them the best of luck because they desperately needed it and walked away with clenched fists crossed over her chest.

          Now at 22, she still hadn’t found him and resigned to her fate. Her siblings had already found theirs but that didn’t make it any better. Envy reigned supreme even if she smiled and kept to herself amidst the family gatherings.

          As soon as she finished school, she gathered what little money she could get and started looking for a house. She couldn’t handle feeling like a stranger around the people that were supposed to be family watching them go on with their lives when she stagnated with hers. So, she decided to do the only thing she could think of at the time – gather up all her things and go where she could be happy for once in her life.

          Her mother didn’t understand why she wanted to go away even when she told her but the simple explanation of ‘I need to leave to find my own place in life’ had not been good enough.

          Her father understood and she really didn’t want to leave him either, but she felt like she had no choice.

          Her mother protested to it when she made the decision to move to Norway. Mother wanted her to stay in the States. To stay within driving distance for visits and such. She told her that it is her decision and asked to respect her enough to let her do it with the full consequences of said decision.

          This apparently had been seen as both an offence and a call to fight for her mother which resulted in a mostly one-sided argument turned lecture. She remained stony through most of it being nagged and nagged as to the exact reason why, well she finally exploded.

          “Is it that hard for you to comprehend that I HATE it here?! That I feel like a prisoner in a place that should be my home?! That I’m a complete stranger among family?! I want to go to Norway in hopes of finding my Soulmate! Now, leave me alone and stop trying to takeover more of MY life than you already have!” This got her a slap to the face. One that would have hurt anyone else except her if they hadn’t been expecting it.

          The resulting silence was deafening. Her mother’s eyes blazed with a self-righteous fury that refused to bend or bow to anyone. All she could do was sigh in resignation once again.

          “You wanted an answer. It’s not my fault if you didn’t like it.” This resulted in another slap. She moved away prying off the hand fiercely clamped on her arm. “Get off me.”

          “I raised you.” Said her mother, eyes still filled with fury. “I fed you, I clothed you, I gave birth to you, and I put a roof over your head. If you don’t like the rules of this household, there’s the door. See to it that it doesn’t hit you on the way out.”

          “First you want me to stay and now you’re telling to leave? Make up your mind, woman.” Her cheek stung but it isn’t anything she couldn’t handle. “I’ll be out of here whether you like it or not. I can’t stay here for the rest of my life doing nothing simply because you demand it. I respect you as my mother, but that’s it.”

          After that she had began finalizing her plans to move out and quickly move on from this place.

Notes:

A/N: I hope that wasn't too triggering or bad *grimaces and looks around for any possible tomato projectiles*

Also, I forgot to mention earlier that while I'm currently writing a Bruce/OFC story for fun and asked if you guys wanted me to post it, I also had gotten a plot bunny to try something I had never done before.

The Plot Bunny mentioned writing a possible Slasher Fic *le gasps from the entire crowd*. Yea, I know it was shocking to me too. However, as usual, I got curious and started browsing FanFiction and here on AO3 for any good ones. Eventually, I found some and read them. Some of them both disturbed and impressed me by how dark and in-depth psychologically horrifying they were. There had been one that I couldn't finish without feeling sick to my stomach because of how intensely immersive it was.

So, I decided to do my own version of a Leatherface/OFC Slasher fic. *sucks on my teeth* The stories I have read for that fandom were limited which is understandable, but even then they weren't ...... I guess there isn't enough variety in the fandom is what I'm trying to saying without being callously blunt about it.

What got me interested in the first place had been BOOdalinski's story called "Thomas Hewitt (Leatherface): "____" Would Include...". I enjoyed it because it brought a whole new perspective to the aspect of Thomas Hewitt to the overall fandom. That's when the Plot Bunny appeared and gave me the suggestion to write the story.

I have 32 pages written for that story already divided into 4-5 chapters. So, if anyone's interested in reading that story or the Bruce/OFC story I have written down, please leave a comment saying "Yay" or "Nay".

Alright, I'm heading off to bed now. I'll see you guys later in the afternoon US-EST!! See all you awesome people later :D!

Chapter 3

Notes:

A/N: Okay, so I couldn't shut my brain down enough to get some sleep. Which is total pain in the behind! However, I figured that I should post the next two chapters that I have written for this story just because I can and want to.

This is a rollercoaster chapter so be prepared to get a LOT of feels, tissues, and comfort food to help with the reading process. Mostly, regarding self-esteem issues, body image, having difficulty with self-acceptance, and difficulty in being self-confident about with how they are overall.

Let me tell you, it is NOT easy. Fighting yourself on a daily basis just to get a smidgen of confidence is a war in and of itself. I, myself, have a hard time accepting myself and tend to avoid mirrors and taking photos of myself because of I don't like how I look in them. That's not accounting for being autistic and physically disabled on top of that too. Which is a whole other war in and of itself.

Like I said, be ready to get some tissues and comfort food because some of you may need it.

Regardless, I hope you all enjoy reading "Emeralds and Rainclouds" :D!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Two weeks later, almost everything of importance is packed and ready to be shipped out. She spent her last day going out of the house and roamed around town before stepping into the local diner. She sat down in a booth by the window in the back clutching her thick fuzzy poncho closer to her as a meager means of comfort. The sun is out from behind the clouds, but it is still chilly enough to need some sort of layering hence the poncho.

          Sally, an older redheaded woman, came over a sympathetic smile on her face. “Rough day, hon?”

          “You have no idea.” Came the sardonic reply as a long, heavy arduous sigh escaped. “Can I get a large hot chocolate with an order of pecan waffles please?”

          “Sure thing. Shouldn’t take long.” That’s when the bell above the door rang out signaling a new customer. “Oh, my.”

          “Oh, my indeed.” The newcomer is an incredibly handsome man with a pale complexion, jaw-length raven black hair slicked back from his face, and incredibly, vibrant emerald-green eyes. He wore a black suit of sorts with an elaborately designed green-and-gold scarf, and a knee-length black trench coat. His slender, lean physique reminded her of many things, a panther, cobra, a predator. But it is hard to focus on just that when those eyes of his eyes of zeroed on her as if he is the moth and she is the flame.

          She didn’t know how to feel about it, not at all, and most of the emotions she did feel were not at all familiar in the slightest. She recognized attraction very well, intrigue, confusion, and curiosity to name a few but that’s it. It is obvious (at least to her it is) that he is stupidly wealthy, and it made her comparably self-conscious of her second-hand, donated clothing. So, much so that she looked away to focus on her twisting, wringing fingers to keep from having a public meltdown.

          “Your order will be ready in a bit hon.” Came Sally’s soft, warm voice as she gently squeezed her shoulder before walking away.

          She sighed and dropped her head to the table feeling the effects of restless nights, stress-induced migraines, and depression rest heavily on her very soul. The very thought of even staying in this Godforsaken town is enough to intensify the need for a public meltdown. “God, what an embarrassing thought.”

          “I wonder,” A smooth, heavily accented voice rang out in her ears as shock surged through her at the sound. “What a beautiful Midgardian woman such as yourself sits by all her lonesome on such a day?”

          A loud gasp escaped her as her postured up completely in response to the resounding feeling of a forming Soulmate Bond deep inside her very being. There standing next to her table is the stupidly handsome raven-haired man. “AND HE JUST SAID MY WORDS!!”

          She gulped as her widened raincloud-colored eyes locked in with his incredibly intense emerald ones. Honesty rang loudly as she said, “I’m not that beautiful. Pretty, maybe. But not beautiful.”

          Whether it had been the lighting or her own imagination, but his eyes glowed with unbidden intensity as he gestured with long-fingered hands. “May I?”

          She nodded before he took the booth seat in front of her the Bond resonating with increased strength and vitality with each passing moment. He leaned forward on elbows before gently grabbing a hold of her weaker left hand.

          The warmth that bloomed in her chest made her want to weep. She had to hold back tears at the simple touch even as his thumb rubbed her knuckles with such care and reverence. The revelation of just how touch-starved she is had hit her like a 40-pounder to the chest. Sudden, heavy, and completely, utterly painful.

          Her thoughts were cut through by the feeling of his larger hand weaving their fingers together. Blinking a couple times, she turned her gaze back to her newly discovered Soulmate.

          His face is full of aristocratic angles, sharpness, and expression of decorum. It is an incredibly handsome face, but her attention is drawn more to the sheer blackness of his hair and the intense, vibrant green of his eyes. The artist in her is squealing with utter joy at the discovery and she wonders if the colors were as natural as they appear to be.

          A blush appeared on her cheeks once she realized that he too is studying her face. The chuckle that came out smoothly with hints of purring undertones. She still couldn’t believe that he is here! After all this time! It is so completely surreal.

          Her fingers tightened a bit around his hand as a deep, irrational unadulterated fear overtook her at the thought of him disappearing. A quiet wince escaped as soon as it happened before loosening her grip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to –”

          “It’s quite alright.” Came the soft reply as his grip became just as tight as hers if not a little tighter. A long heavy sigh escaped him as his eyes reflected an immense age beyond his physical appearance. “Sorry to keep you waiting, sváss.”

          She gaped at him before blinking as she blushed registering the endearment. “Sorry to keep you waiting too.”

          He gave a small smile squeezing her hand firmly just before Sally placed her cup and plate on the table. “Anything I can get you, hun?”

          A raised eyebrow showing reserved curiosity. “Thank you, but no not at the moment.”

          “Alright then. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be.” She blushed more at the wink Sally sent her way as she went about her business. Noticing the smirk on her soulmates stupidly handsome face, she gave him a minor scowl.

          This got him to chuckle just a bit at her expression which, in turn, made her heart all aflutter and the Soul Bond to pulse even stronger. She gave a ghost of a smile as she took a sip of her hot chocolate letting the heat relax her further.

          There is no denying the burning ice of his stare as she used her right hand to put a bit of butter and syrup on her waffles. This is one of two to-go comfort foods that she’ll eat if she needed it. The other being cinnamon rolls or anything with cinnamon in it really.

          “Do you want to try some? It’s just fried batter with cinnamon and pecan nuts in it, but it’s good comfort food.” She had cut a small piece beforehand with her fork and held it up above her plate questioningly.

          He did look at it curiously enough through his eyes though it is hard to tell with his placid features. Though he grabbed her other hand with the gentlest of touches and bringing the fork closer. She let him do it not wanting to accidentally hurt him with sudden or forceful movements. So, she kept her arm relaxed even as he took the bite of food from her fork.

          She watched as he tested out the tastes and textures of the syrup coated waffle. Interestingly enough, he looked oddly disappointed when he realized that he had finished the bite he took. Glancing between her and the food, well it is an easy enough problem for her to solve. “I can order you some if you want?”

          “Yes, if you don’t mind.” She smiled and waved over Sally who came over with a smile of her own.

          “Can you bring another plate of pecan waffles Ms. Sally?”

          “Of course! Be right with you!”

          She could feel the inquisitive gaze of those emerald eyes even as she looked back at him taking a bite of her own.

          “Have you known her long?” She felt warm at the sound of his accented voice and a bit conflicted at the question.

          “I met her around … about eight years ago now.” She took her time eating a couple more bites of food and swallowing. “It was around the time I realized that your Words to me weren’t in English. Old Norse is a pain in the butt to translate by the way.”

          This got a mischievous playful smirk out of him. “Just as English had been rather difficult for me to translate as well. And then solving as to where your variation of the language originated from. You had gotten the easier task in this case.”

          “That is true. Thank you, Ms. Sally.” The elder redhead placed a plate of waffles in front of her soulmate with an ever-present smile on her face.

          “No problem, hun. Enjoy your meal.” She turned that genuinely warm smile towards her soulmate. He blinked owlishly in reaction to it and simply gave her a nod in response before she walked off once again.

          “I didn’t fully understand that they were Words until then.” It is nice to have someone’s undivided attention for once and very refreshing too. “I was 14 at the time. And well, I had to do my own research to …” She waved generally as she tried to get the words out. “… figure it all out and understand what it meant to have them.”

          “Your parents never explained it?” His tone is inquisitive but the expression in his eyes said an entirely different story. Hard with protectiveness, incredulity, and a few other emotions she couldn’t decipher with a mere glance.

          “It’s more like my mom didn’t make enough time to explain it to me like she did with my younger sister. My older brother and sister were already adults by then.” Her emotions became a hell of a lot more turbulent at the associating memories even as she took a sip of her hot chocolate. “I only heard any of it if I had been in the room at the time and even then, I wasn’t directly spoken to about it. My dad had been the one to explain it to me when I asked.”

          The sheer indignant offence on his face made her feel warm with a case of stomach knots – the good ones – which got more prominent by the time she finished explaining.

          “How does one forget the fact that they have more than three children to care for?” She shrugged and then sighed heavily feeling the weight deep in her bones more than usual.

          “It’s not that she forgot about it.” Seeing the wide-eyed incredulity, she hastened with her reply. ‘It’s more like, she was playing favorites rather than being forgetful. If I needed anything, I got it. But … anything I wanted, well,”

She didn’t know if it is too soon to say anything but did it anyways. She’s supposed to be able to trust her soulmate unconditionally, right? Even so, her voice grew much quieter as she continued, “I either kept my mouth shut or I asked my dad. Even if they got newer, nicer clothes, I was just grateful to have clothes in my size that fit me comfortably.”

It is then that she felt the acute self-consciousness kick in when she realized just how … different she is compared to him. She may be tall, but by American and European standards, she is considered plus sized or more commonly overweight. She had curves, ones that would make supermodels dream of having naturally, but it is all attached to a pudgy, chubby body that is incredibly hard to find clothes for. Which made her extremely self-conscious of since no one wanted the “fat girl in frumpy clothes”.

Even now, she is wearing an oversized baby blue t-shirt, and handmade plaid-patterned fleece pajama pants she made on a whim to fit over her U.S. sized 18[1] behind, hips and thick thighs. Over top is her fuzzy poncho that she uses to hide her double-d sized breasts and pudgy stomach as much as possible.

Not once has her soulmate said a word about her clothes or her figure. And she’s absolutely dreading it with everything she’s got in her. The words of her ex-boyfriend ringing through her head at that moment even as she tried desperately to ignore them.

She is startled out of her thoughts at the feeling a chilled hand on her cheek. Looking up to see darkened emeralds gazing at her even as his thumb swiped under her eyes. She blinked not even realizing she started to cry ducking her face away trying to regain what little composure she has left.

Before she knew it, long arms were cradling her frame against a hard, strong chest deceptively slender yet felt so much broader. She wrapped her own arms around his waist from under his trench coat her fingertips touching but not completely.

He gently laid her head against his strongly beating heart, immediately her body relaxed at the sound even as tears kept pouring out of her eyes. For the first time in her life, she felt safe. Safe and protected from the outside world feeling like she belonged rather than becoming a drifting leave on water. It only made her cry harder her body shaking with the force of it even as her grip became tighter.

The arms wrapped around her became iron bars as they tightly caged her against his chest. Softly spoken words in Old Norse drifted into her ears as he held her gently combing his fingers through her frizzy shoulder-length curling waves. It felt a balm to her unbearably heavy soul. She can make out some words he spoke as if words of a Holy vow, a promise by the tone of his voice. It only made her desperately hope that isn’t just a big fucking cosmic joke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[1] A U.S. plus size 18 in Women’s clothing is equivalent to a size 20/22 in the UK, a general European size 50, a Canadian size 18, a Japanese size 17-19, a German/Scandinavian size 42, an Australian/New Zealand size 18, and a size 46 in France, Spain, and Portugal.

Notes:

A/N: Sooo, how was it?? Good, bad, or just plain meh??

Hopefully, I was able to keep Loki in character despite all of this. The last time I tried writing out Loki's character, he ended up being a dark sensual persona that kind fits, but doesn't at the same time. The only way I can see him like that is when he needs some "loving", if you catch my drift. That and when he's pissed off or when he feels the need to mess around with someone's head as a way of gaining information.

I'm still nervous about the overall plot of the story, but I got a rough idea on where I want to go with it. After the events of the 1st Avengers movie, it's going to become an AU pretty much since I'm not going to strictly follow the timeline of the other movies except for Captain America and the Winter Soldier. Which will introduce Bucky to the fold and I can get started on the relationship between him and Darcy. Who I will honestly admit to being my ultimate Avengers OTP of all time. Because, yes, yes, and yes.

On the note of timelines, this story takes place about 2 years before the events of the 1st Thor movie. Which gives me some breathing room to maneuver around in for character and relationship development for both Loki and my OFC. You'll get to find out her name in the next chapter, so don't worry too much about it just yet.

Please leave comments if you liked what you've read so far! I love reading and replying to as many as I can because it's my way of communicating with you guys up here!!

As soon as I post the next chapter, I'm going to work more on chapter 11 of "Hyrrokkin and the Boneless". Until then, I hope you all are staying happy, healthy, and safe out there :D!!

Chapter 4

Notes:

A/N: Last chapter for now until I get a better handle on where I need to go with this story. Four chapters in a day is nowhere near a record for me - 9 being the placeholder so far - but it is a lot to compile into an online posting when it's just a rough draft.

For this chapter, there's a bit of everything in here. Mostly fluff, humor, some information/headcanons (Maybe?? Could be facts for all I know) about Aesir and Vanir culture. It's very possible that I screwed it up somehow so I'll take what I get if any of you get huffy about it. Plus, Loki may or may not be OOC, but again I may be wrong about that part too.

We also get another peek into my OFC's family dynamic as well. She mentions having elder siblings, but doesn't go into detail about it because she's not at all close with them. Her parents and younger sister are touched upon here as well as how Loki reacts to her mom and dad interacting with him.

Alright, I'll stop here and get out of y'alls way :).

Hope you all enjoy reading "Emeralds and Rainclouds" :D!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

          “I never did get your name.” She felt the iron bar of his arm even if he guided her delicately through the ever-curious stares of the townsfolk. Which she is grateful for, to say the least.

          “You did not.” He agreed as he matched her soft-spoken tones bringing her closer to his taller frame. “And you never gave me your name.”

          “Ladies first then?” The half-hearted joke got a small but no less genuine smile out of her mysterious soulmate.

          “Ladies first.” She chuckled before blinking in surprise as she is gently pulled in closer to his body. It is then she notices the couple passing them by and then promptly ignores them.

          “Angharad.” She looked up to see him looking at her with an intense expression blinking owlishly in return. “My name’s Angharad. (Pronounced: Ahng-har-id)”

          “And mine is Loki.” Now is his turn to blink at her as a delighted smile spread across her face. “If I knew my name would have excited you so, I would have given it sooner.”

          “I knew that my soulmate hadn’t been –” She cut herself off looking this way and that to ensure is looking or within hearing distance. “Hadn’t been human. No one ever says the word ‘Midgardian’ around here.”

          She paused looking up at him sheepishly to see an incredibly amused expression on his stupidly handsome face. “Unless that’s not true and you are human?”

          “No, dear one, I’m not.” Restrained laughter can be heard through his words as led them to the mostly empty park. The both of them sat on the bench, Loki pulling her close enough that she’s practically in his lap. Which makes her blush a bit at the realization. “The Loki in your Midgardian myths and I are the same.”

          Angharad gapes at him with wide eyes and with no filter whatsoever, “So, that’s why you’re so stupidly attractive!”

          Her hand clamps over her mouth as her face burns bright red as her brain caught up to her mouth. Loki, on the other hand, shook with laughter even as he buried his face into her thick frizzy curls. “Not funny Loki.”

          “No, sváss, but it is quite amusing.” He chuckles just as she began to start pouting a bit.

          “Oh!” She managed to startle her poor god of mischief with her sudden exclamation. “Not to change the subject, but I have to tell you something.”

          “Go on.” His eyebrow raised at her extremely interested in her serious expression and tone of voice.

          “I’ll be moving in the next few days.” Seeing the startled expression, she frantically tried to calm him. “I’ll be moving to Norway. I can’t …”

          The somber, desperate undertones of her voice further drew in his attention just as her painfilled gaze swept over the bustling town. “I can’t stay here anymore. There are too many memories. I need a fresh start and seeing as your first Words to me are in Old Norse –”

          “Say no more.” His long finger gently pressed against her lips as she blinked up at him. “Where do you plan on going?”

          “I’m torn between Tromso or Longyearbyen in Svalbard.” Seeing him shake his head at her, she got confused. “What is it?”

          “Svalbard is too isolated from the mainland and doesn’t provide the best dwelling either. I would suggest keeping it as an option in case you’ll require a safe place to hide, but I would not think it as a long-term solution either.”

          “So, Tromso?” At his adamant nod, she couldn’t help but refer to his judgement. “Okay, I just need to go house hunting before having my things sent over there.”

          “Let me worry about that, sváss.” Came the vehement statement from Loki.

          “Loki –” She is cut off once again by that stupid finger of his pressing against her lips.

          “I have not been there as I should have.” He gently cupped her cheek bringing their foreheads together as he wrapped his arm further around her. “And for that, I apologize. Allow me to take care of whatever you need of me.”

          Angharad gulped as she wrapped her arms around him laying her ear against his heart as he buried his nose into her hair. “I’ll only take what you are willing to give me Loki. All I ask is that you allow me to take care of whatever you need of me too.”

          “Oh, sváss, you need not do such a thing.” Those long fingers of his combed their way through her hair so gently that it seemed almost impossible that he’s the actual Norse god of mischief.

          “Maybe. But I want to, anyways. Afterall,” She lifted her head and smiled at softened features of her soulmate. “It is said that a house divided, can’t stand on its own. Especially, on unequal footing.”

          “Is that so? Very well.” A sigh of mock defeat had Angharad giggling which brought a truly rare genuine smile to Loki’s face.

          A sigh escaped her lips as a thought popped up. “I guess I need to head back to get everything else packed.”

          “What is left?” The wind gently blew on their respective hair which had her blowing it out of her face.

          “My bed mostly. I need to pack the bedding away and then take the actual bed apart so I can take it with me.” She can only imagine the all-nighter she’s going to need to pull – AGAIN – to get that done.

          “Why not simply purchase another while in Norway?” The sudden predatory glare on her face had Loki looking as if he were a deer caught in a pair of headlights.

          “You did NOT just cuss and blaspheme at me about my bed!” She practically growled out the words at him waving her finger at him as he tried to placate her. “I am not leaving without it, Loki!”

          “My apologizes, sváss. It was a miscalculation on my part to mention leaving it behind.” Though he looked startled, the twitching of his lips gave way to his growing amusement.

          “It had better be, young man.” Came the grumbled reply even as Loki released his laughter in chuckles.

          They stayed for another 20 minutes at most before Loki escorted Angharad back to her parent’s house to finish her packing. He insisted despite her assurances that he didn’t have to do anything further. What had essentially shut her up had been a kiss to the temple and assurances on his part that he is more than willing to help her along.

          The house is a modest one-story brick home that could comfortably house a family of four. However, it soon became apparent that Angharad didn’t come up from a wealthy upbringing by any means.

          She couldn’t help the anxious wringing of her hands despite the steady arm around her waist as they approached the house. Angharad can only imagine what Loki’s first impression had been when he saw where she has lived for the past 11 years of her life. And she can’t even begin to understand his thought process as she saw that everyone had decided today had been the best day to visit.

          By everyone, she means her elder siblings and their families along with her younger sister and her boyfriend. Her six-foot-tall, blonde, blue-eyed sister had been the first to notice Loki and her as they leisurely made their way over.

Aelwin’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of them clearly seeing just how opposite they truly were, no doubt. Angharad is startled out of her thoughts as Loki pulled her closer to his side making her look up at him.

Those vibrant emerald eyes silently asked her if she is alright. It is all she needed to calm down as she nodded slowly while gulping. He gave her a nod of his own while his thumb rubbed her padded hipbone directly on her Soulmark. Shivers ran up and down her spine as she gently wrapped an arm around his own waist his expression softening at the reciprocated gesture.

“No matter what happens next, please don’t leave me?” The soul-deep sensation of fear must have peered through because Loki’s eyes darkened in a possessive protectiveness that took her breath away.

“Never would I ever leave you, sváss.” The words coming out sounded with a decisive finality that had her feeling weightless yet grounded at the same time.

She gave him a smile of gratitude before she looked back at the shocked expression of her sister. Aelwin glanced between the two of them silently questioning Angharad if he is truly her soulmate. When the elder sister gave a firm nod, Aelwin didn’t hold back her relief as she gave a smile of joy.

Angharad gave a more sheepish smile before it disappeared behind a far stonier expression at the sight of her mother. She knew Loki noticed if the solid chilly warmth against her is any indication. She gently pulled him closer, and he reciprocated without hesitation as they slowly caught the attention of everyone else.

She is beyond nervous and more than prepared for any potential outburst from her mother. Her hands shaking from her nerves and turbulent emotions despite her own stony expression.

“Angharad, who is this?” A calculative gleam entered her mother’s hazel-colored eyes as she looked at Loki from head-to-toe.

He simply held his head high as he replied, “Loki Odinson, madam.”

His accented voice rang out shocking everyone though whether it had been because of that or his arm around her waist, well who knows for sure?

“What business do you have with my daughter, Loki?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed and by the sigh coming from her father, well she knew it is going to be one of those days.

“Considering that we’re soulmates,” At that her mother’s eyes widened to the size of golf balls. “My business, as you say, regarding your daughter involves her overall well-being, happiness, wants and needs, and whatever she asks of me. Just as it is the same for her.”

Angharad tried desperately not to let out just how funny she found Loki’s overall sass to be, but she knew it would only draw further attention to herself. She glanced at him and saw just how placid his features looked in comparison to the unreadable gleam in his eyes even as his pure black hair became ruffled in the wind.

“I do believe a … Ms. Sally?” He glanced at her as if seeking confirmation, even though she knew for a fact he didn’t need it. She nodded anyways to play along with his mischief. “Can most certainly vouch for us, if my word does not appease you.”

This appeased her mother enough that she didn’t question him further. But she knew that her mother is far from being appeased. Angharad knew that Loki can most certainly tell as he subtly tightened his grip on her hip. “Now, it has been pleasant speaking with you, madam. However, I do believe Angharad has some packing she needs assistance with. Afterall, who am I to deny my soulmate?”

With that they made their way across the yard and into the house. It has seen many renovations over the years from her parents both. Updated appliances, brand new granite countertops, custom made cabinetry that your father built himself, antique furnishings, crown molding that she and her father made together, and French doors leading to the spacious backyard from the kitchen.

Her mother wants more done to the house, but the money isn’t there to spent for now. And her father isn’t as able-bodied as he used to be, so it is very slow-going for all of them.

“Your mother will most certainly get along with Father if they ever meet each other.” Came the sardonic humor of her soulmate as he looked over the interior with a critical eye.

Angharad snorted in laughter and nodded giggling as she led them down the hallway leading to her room and parent’s office room. “I think so, yea. Not smoothly given the language barrier and cultural differences, but eventually.”

“Ah, the ‘language barrier’, as you say, is not a problem. Asgardians have what is called the Allspeak which enables them to speak and read any language they wish.” He smirked at the confused disbelief on her face as the dots connected.

“That is so unfair! But awesome, really.” The smile she had then turned into a thoughtful frown as she turned the doorknob to her bedroom. “But wouldn’t many Asgardians become reliant on it too much rather than learn the languages for themselves? You guys are practically immortal, so you have plenty of time to do it.”

“One would think so, yes. I have not wasted my time all these years to not learn. Especially, once I had realized you were Midgardian rather than an Aesir or Vanir for that matter.” He took a curious sweep over the mostly bare room except for the rather large bed by the window.

The walls were a nice light blue, with light grey trimming, and the floor is a light grey speckled vinyl as well. There is enough room for a modest-sized closet but beyond that there isn’t much less.

“The Aesir are the Asgardians, and the Vanir are those from Vanaheim, right? Or have the stories gotten that wrong?” She looked at him curiously as she moved towards her large king-sized bed situated on a restored, antique, mahogany-stained canopy pencil-post bedframe.

“I only know of a few of your Midgardian myths. None of it extensive, but I do know some of it. However, for the most part, yes, those who reside on Asgard are Aesir and those residing on Vanaheim are Vanir. Mother is Vanir while Father is an Aesir. Those who have lived on Vanaheim are very well-versed in the art of seidr, what you would call magic. Everywhere on Vanaheim is saturated with seidr and is very common to see it performed.” Angharad became entranced by the utter passion Loki spoke of magic and couldn’t help but feel a bit of envy for not having magic for herself. His eyes had lit up with a genuine smile pulling at his lips which made her fluttering heart flutter a lot more than it has been.

“On Asgard, however,” That’s when his expression became more sheltered making her worried about what he could possibly be thinking of. “Seidr is seen only as a woman’s art and is left to them. Very rarely do men practice it or have any proficiency in wielding seidr preferring to learn the warrior ways. The men who do study seidr are not looked favorably upon.”

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what Loki is trying to get across. And quite honestly, it doesn’t make her any less defensively angry on his behalf. “Well, I think you having seidr is amazing and any who thinks otherwise needs an ass-kicking from yours truly.”

Loki’s previous small smile were nothing compared to the full extent of it. The air is knocked from her lungs at the sight and made her extremely awestruck in the best of the ways. She gave back her own smile before moving to grab a large duffle bag to put her bedding inside.

However, when she turned around, Loki is already waving his hand about leisurely. Her eyes widened at watch his vibrant green magic weaving over the bedding folding it neatly and effortlessly with no wrinkles whatsoever. Within seconds her bed is striped bare, and the stupidly handsome man is buffing his nails on his coat as if it were no big deal.

“I don’t know whether to ask if you were showing off or were so impatient that you wanted an excuse to use your magic.” She placed her hands on her wide hips as she shook her head at him.

“Mm, a bit of both.” Had been his simple response before she started to carefully put away her light purple-grey comforter set inside the bag. “Though I’m curious as to why this particular blanket is heavier than it should be.”

She looked up to see him picking up the 30-pound weighted king-sized blanket with a perplexed yet curious expression. That thing had not come cheap by any means. Still, that blanket has been her savior when she desperately needed the sleep.

“It’s a weighted blanket. It’s supposed to help people with insomnia or late-night jitters calm down and get the sleep they need. I had to save up the money to buy just that one at a discount because they are typically expensive.” Seeing him arch an eyebrow at it, that prompted her to continue. “By expensive, I mean within the $130 to $180 price range for a high-quality blanket of that size.”

 His other brow joined its twin as he looked at her in disbelief to which she merely shrugged at him. She opened the opening of the bag further and he placed the weighted blanket inside it without prompt. Zipping it closed, Loki immediately picked up the heavy-as-crap bag as if it were a mere feather placing it on his shoulder.

The feat of strength had her heat up all over, but she promptly ignored it to keep focusing on the task of disassembling her bed. Dark raincloud-colored eyes looked at it and let out a sigh-turned-raspberry as she realized what it would entail. “This might take a while.”

“Or I can simply reduce it’s size with my seidr.” She immediately nodded not concealing her excitement at seeing him use his magic. This got a somewhat smug yet shy smile to appear as Loki lazily waved his hand and within seconds her bed is small enough to be carried in her pocket. Though the sneaky man placed it in his pocket before she could grab it.

Angharad huffed playfully as she stood up straight. “One of these days, you’re gonna have to let me carry something.”

“Mm, as an Asgardian, I am, by default, far more superior in strength and durability than you are, sváss.” The smug matter-of-a-fact tones coming from the man had her conceding for now.

“That may be true, but when we’re old and feeble, well all bets are off at that point.” He simply shook his head at her with that arrogantly smug smirk on his face. As if he knew something that she didn’t, and he more than likely did too.

Arms are once again wrapped around each other’s waist as they walked out of the house. A huge weight felt as though it had been lifted off her, but there is still enough left over that won’t be gone for a while.

Angharad shivered as Loki rubbed her Words with his thumb as they passed by. Her father waited for them at the end of the driveway leaning up against his Silverado looking off in the distance arms crossed over his chest.

She had gotten her eye color from her father even if his eyes were far bluer than hers. Her hair color has also come from him his hair now a gunmetal grey rather than the brown it had been years ago. He has a long, lanky, slender physique standing at 6’4” which now that she is reminded of it, Loki seems to be the same height too.

With a subtle tensing of her arm, they stopped at the intense glance they got from her father. She glanced between the two of them as they seemed to have an entire silent conversation with just their eyes and micro-expressions. It couldn’t have been more than a minute before both their demeanors relaxed.

“You take care of my baby girl, Loki.” Her father’s worn tired features remained placid while his eyes remained harshly sharp.

“Of course.” Loki returned it with a similar expression as he nodded in subtle assertion.

Her father then looked to her features softening instantly before he gave her an extremely rare hug. “You stay safe Angha. Call me if you get into trouble.”

“I will, dad. Love you.” She returned the hug tears pouring into her eyes even as she kept them caged behind her eyelids.

“Love you too.” He released the hug stepping back out of their way as she and Loki made their way off the property.

The wind is stronger yet gentler as they walked off with one heavy heart in sync with one even heavier.

Notes:

A/N: Okay, I'm stopping here for the day so I can focus on my other stories.

Angharad is a purely Welsh name that means - I hope I'm getting this right *looks at my notepad*, it means "Passionate, intuitive being who is beautiful". Which I felt to fit her extremely well despite Angharad not truly believing that she is, in fact, a beautiful young woman.

Aelwin is another purely Welsh name which means *looks at my notepad again* "One with a blessed eyebrow". It was hard to understand what that meant at first, but after a few minutes I figured it out. Apparently, like sooo many cultures around the world, the Welsh greatly appreciated those who were born with blonde hair. So, to have a "blessed eyebrow", to my personal understanding, means that they have blonde hair. Which I thought fit her the most considering that she's blonde as well.

However, I could be extremely, completely wrong in this aspect since I'm such an ignorant misinformed American. If there are any Welsh readers out there reading this, please correct me if I am indeed misinterpreting that in any way possible.

Another thing. *puts away the notepad* The weighted blanket part?? They do, in fact, exist and can be purchased for personal use. Paramedics and medical professionals were first documented to have used weighted blankets to help any patient that had been in shock or had been traumatized. Those orange blanket things we see in movies and TV shows?? Those are weighted blankets.

Angharad has one because she suffers from mildly stress induced insomnia as well as another diagnosis which is not directly stated but that was done on purpose. So, medically, her having that weighted blanket is a necessity to help her sleep at night.

I should probably add in the "Disabled Character" tag because of it, but I'm going to wait until I actually reveal it in later chapters. If any of you want to know or want to guess what it is, leave a comment please!!

I hope you are all staying happy, healthy, and safe out there :D!!

Chapter 5

Notes:

A/N: Hey guys!! How are of you doing so far??

Tomorrow is Independence Day here in America, but my family and I don't typically celebrate it beyond lighting up some sparklers for the kids and that's about it.

Anyways!! Here's the next chapter for this story!

This is a bit of a doozy. About 2/3 to about 3/4 of this chapter is mostly describing what Angharad's new deep-woods Norwegian house looks like. Gotta hand it to Loki he sure knew what the crap he was doing when he made it for his soulmate, because the feels are real!!

Okay, so, I mentioned Angharad is disabled or at least has some sort of diagnosis related to it in some way. There's incredibly subtle hints throughout the story so far, but there's a BIG hint towards the end of the chapter. She's pretty vague about it, because of her being afraid of not being enough for Loki, mind you. So, it isn't like she's being obtuse about it on purpose.

The first person to figure out what it could be or at least come close to it will get a shoutout from yours truly once it happens! Be sure to leave your theories in the comments please!

Oh, if anyone is in anyway curious, Angharad is 22-years-old. I had wanted to leave out her age at first so that you readers would have more wiggle room in order to help with her relating to different age groups. But, for this stories sake, Angharad is 22 but acts in many ways in reference to different age groups based on the situation. I hope I managed to accomplish that honestly, but who knows??

Anyways, I'm gonna shut up before I spoil anything further.

Hope you all enjoy reading "Emeralds and Rainclouds" :D!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

          Somehow, someway, Loki had magicked everything to a large, one story house deep in the woods within just a few days.

          Angharad simply looked at him in parts shock, disbelief, and perplexity. She could NOT believe that he did this just because she gave an absentminded thought when she got sleep-deprived again. Like, WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HELL??!

          The house is, well, not actually a traditional house per se. It’s a weird combination of a Viking longhouse and a Hobbit Hole. She mentioned it during the 11hr 45min flight from Washington State to Norway. And after seeing the incredibly curious expression he had, she showed him the Lord of the Rings and Hobbit movies on her phone. To say that he was mesmerized had been quite the understatement of the millennium.

          The house itself is HUGE like 60ft long x 30ft wide huge! The roof is actually an upside-down Viking sailboat huddling over the solid wooden walls protectively. The doors are semicircles that make one huge circle painted a dark hunter green color – like Bilbo’s door in the movies. There were solid wide-foot concrete steps that were gradually – gently – inclined towards the acre-sized front yard that is littered with oak, evergreen, maple, birch, and even fir trees.

          She couldn’t help the overwhelmingly intense feelings she felt as Loki led her up the stair his whole countenance softened. Raincloud-colored eyes took in the details in the wooden craftsmanship of the house and beautiful landscaping the yard. It is her second dream come true in all aspects of the word right after meeting Loki at Ms. Sally’s diner.

          “Would you like to enter?” Angharad looked to her soulmate tears heavy in her eyes from her overwhelming emotions a few escaping even as she nodded firmly.

          “Y-yes. W-wouldn’t want all your h-hard work go to waste.” Loki gently wiped her tears away. The chilly warmth of his thumb comforting in more ways than one as she gently opened the right-side semicircle.

          A gasp escaped her as she clung to Loki in response to her suddenly weak knees. “Loki! You … oh my God!”

          The interior is exactly she had imagined and more. When he had asked what she dreamed of her house looking like inside. Again, he asked her when she had been half-asleep so she can only imagine how he interpreted the word-vomit the came out. But this is beyond what she thought to begin with.

          Angharad mentioned the Elder Scrolls games to Loki during the flight. The ones that have been out for quite some time. The 4th game, Oblivion, had been a favorite of hers and while she hasn’t exactly played the first three games yet, she had plans on doing so soon enough.

          News about the 5th game releasing had her extremely excited because it would take place in Skyrim. Which is the Elder Scrolls franchise version of a country full of Vikings. She had shown what few pictures Bethesda had released to the public to Loki. He had been incredibly impressed at the designs to say the least and even gave his own bit of praise of how accurate some bits were while severely criticizing other parts passionately enough that those who were still awake heard him from the first-class cabin.

          Angharad had a feeling that those “heinously, despicable morons who can not tell the difference between a bard, skáld, and warrior poet if it bit them on their arses” were going to be viciously visited by Loki very soon indeed.

She then promptly distracted her heavily offended Trickster by getting overexcited at seeing the interior of the Companions Guild Hall, Jorrvaskr. Which had mildly impressed him when he saw that the bedrooms were in their version of a basement. As well as the interior to Shor’s Hall placed in their version of Valhalla - Sovngarde. That did not sit well with Loki.

Her poor ears are still ringing from the severely sharp tongue-lashing in Old Norse Loki spewed out when he saw it. Angharad is more than glad that she only understood half of what he said. But the bits that she did were laced with so much cussing that she is beyond surprised her soulmate even knew them to begin with!

          The ceiling is vaulted with exposed support beams that served as architectural features as well. The walls were lined with a few large furs that Angharad knew for a fact that weren’t from Earth. So, she knew that Loki had brought some of them from Asgard somehow. Oh, wait, he’s got magic never mind.

          Right as she entered the door, an incredibly large, in-ground carved fire pit washed over them with a cozy amount of heat to ward off the chilly autumn air outside. Coat hangers were on the 4ft long walls on either side of the door creating a miniature hallway into the main living space. Angharad took off her all her heavy outer clothes placing them on her hangers leaving her in a lavender turtleneck, charcoal-colored dress pants, and her boots.

          Her hand found Loki’s again as he had stripped down to his dark Slytherin green turtleneck, black dress pants, and his fancy leather boots of unknown make and age. Any other time she would be fidgeting with her clothes to side her pudginess from Loki. But she is far too preoccupied with her surroundings to care even remotely for now.

          She could feel his burning gaze on her, no doubt about it, and can only imagine what is going through that mind of his. Her finger gently glanced over the smooth surfaces of the solid wood furniture, support columns, and even over the banister bordering slightly raised platforms off to the side giving illusions of privacy in such a massive open area. At the far-right end is the spacious kitchen and dining space. Concrete countertops, stainless steel appliances, solid wood cabinetry, wrought iron detailing, and a raw stone backsplash to give it a natural yet simple design.

          Near the kitchen is a spacious guest bathroom. A smooth rock accent wall with lightly stained wooden walls and a dark slate-colored flooring. A large double vanity with concrete countertops and a dark-stained lower cabinet and wrought iron faucets. As well as a tall handicap toilet complete with the side bars too.

          That gave her pause for a moment. Admittedly, Angharad had been absolutely terrified of having to tell Loki that she is not exactly normal by human standards. So, when she admitted to needing something taller to sit on to help her get up and down, well she hadn’t expected that he had taken it to heart. Her ex definitely didn’t seem like he took anything she said or mentioned seriously. So, to see it for herself, well it wouldn’t made her overwhelming emotions all the more intense.

          Loki gently tugged towards the hidden stairwell at the far left-hand side going down into a subterranean level. The stairs have a wide, gentle sloop with the walls 8ft apart for much breathing room. She looked at the deep red brick walls on either side of the stairwell with a wistful nostalgia reminded of the brick of her former home.

She tightly gripped Loki’s hand as he gently led her down towards the sub-level flooring the same dark mahogany as most of the rest of the house. The walls of the sub-level were the same red brick as the stairwell and the ceiling is the same light-stained wood as the guest bathroom. She gulped once again to keep herself from having a meltdown unknowingly holding Loki’s hand in a white-knuckled grip, but not once had he brought attention to it. As strong as the grip is, it is hardly painful to his much stronger physiology.

He gently pulled her gently closer to him, she got startled when his long, strong arm wrapped itself around her deceptively small waist despite how pudgy it is. Loki’s brow had raised when he realize himself causing her blush in both shame and embarrassment. Angharad could see the faint lines in his face tightening and his eyes darkened when he saw her expression – and she feared the worst.

So, when he simply brought her closer with both arms securely caging her against his chest, she froze up. Her arms instinctively returned the gesture as she felt … surprisingly small against him yet so precious and protected. A few tears slipped out as she shivered all over. His large hand gently moving her face to place her his heartbeat instantly relaxing her much more quickly than her weighted blanket has done so far.

“There are nine at present.” His soft spoken, gentle tones grounded her as the hand on her head gently combed through her thick curls. “Four on either side with the ‘master suite’, I believe you called it, at the end of the hallway.”

She kept one ear open to his voice well the other kept listening to his heartbeat. “Two rooms have been converted to separate studies for us both. The other six rooms are for … future purposes.”

Angharad blushed terribly at the implications. While she definitely wanted children, they have only known each other for a few days. She, in no way, shape or form is confident or comfortable enough to trust him with her body just yet. Plus, she still didn’t know if the myths about Fenrir, Jormungandr, Hela, and Sleipnir are even true.

“By that you mean children?” She couldn’t help but match his own tones as she instinctively started rubbing his back slowly when he tensed just a bit.

“Do you not want children, sváss?” The subtle undertones did not escape her notice in least and did her best to reassure her soulmate.

“I do want children, eventually.” She lifted her head to look at the chilly warm of his features seeing the turbulent emotions in his emerald-green eyes. “A few in fact. But if it’s alright with you, I would rather we become more comfortable as a couple first. That way when we do have children, the ‘house’ won’t be as divided as it would have been otherwise.”

“No unequal footing.” Relief filtered through his voice as he rubbed the apple of her cheek with his thumb.

“No unequal footing.” Angharad nodded and smiled as they then began to push past the six empty rooms to the master at the end of the hallway. Admittedly, she is beyond nervous. Logically, she knew that if she asked then they would sleep in separate rooms altogether until otherwise spoken. Yet … somehow, she didn’t want to.

So, when Loki opened the door to the master, well she is once again rendered speechless.

Wall sconces lit up the room comfortably enough that it doesn’t bother her eyes too much. Her bed is placed dead center against the back wall with white colored bedding and curtains which she is terribly confused about. But the wall had dark-stained wainscotting across the bottom third of the wall itself and extending across all four walls. She could see that each panel had Yggdrasil carved into it bordered by a braided rope molding giving it an ornate feel without going overboard.

The upper portion of the walls are done in a calming jade green which had been surprising consider that she figured that Loki would have preferred an emerald color instead. The crown molding trim towards the ceiling is a warm ivory color while the ceiling is a wonderfully complimentary sea green color. Which she would see that had its own carving of Yggdrasil on it in the same ivory as the crown molding.

There is a fireplace in here towards the far-right alcove with a sitting area consisting of two dark emerald loveseats with deep cushioned seats. She could see shelves of books there too along with a ridiculously large silver pelt laying between the two loveseats with the head facing the fireplace.

She looked behind her to see two huge separate wardrobes standing side by side yet were built into the wall. Angharad could only imagine just how big they actually were inside them. Somehow, when she had mentioned Narnia to Loki a couple days, Angharad should have figured that he would have done something like this.

Then there is the bathroom. Well, she supposed when having a Norse deity as a soulmate, well, it seemed that emphasize on bathing is universal in all mythologies.

While Loki kept to the overall theme of the master suite, he went all out on the bathroom. Double vanities built the same way as the guest bath with an honest-to-God marble countertop instead of a concrete one. The flooring is all-natural stone from being underground and the walls are also solid rock as well. The bath, however, looks more like a pool than an actual bathtub/shower combination. “ARE THOSE JACUZZI JETS?!?! Damnit Loki!!”

She gaped at the literal bathing pool and looked at Loki as if he had lost his damn mind. He only gave her the most unrepentant, shameless shit-eating grin in existence as he took in her reaction with pride.

“When I mentioned a possible indoor pool, I did not mean this Loki!” She sputtered at his shrug as he pretended to buff his nails again on his shirt. Angharad is really starting to hate the gesture – very much so.

“Regardless, you get the pool you deserve and desired, and I get a luxurious bathing room suitable to my standards. It favors both sides as far as I’m concerned.” She sputtered at his nonchalant, matter-of-a-fact tone for a moment longer before sighing in utter defeat.

“Fine. Oh!” She startled Loki once again with her sudden proclamation if the widening of his eyes said anything. “I was wondering about the bedding …”

“Ah.” A small smile appeared on his face as he led her back into the main bedroom. “I left it as it is since I was not certain what you would want it to be. I did include your obnoxiously heavy blanket in the midst, of course.”

“Well, you know how my bedding before looked like.” After getting the nod of agreement from him, she continued. “What did yours look like?”

“Just as you would expect. Green, with a gold trim, and made from the best silk in all the Nine Realms.” Her expression alerted to him about something since his brows furrowed to show his confusion. “What?”

“How can anyone sleep comfortably on silk sheets and blankets?” Her nose scrunched up in complete and utter disgust. “Silk is so slimy and gross that I can barely look at it much like touch it.”

The complete look of shock on his face would have been comical in any other situation. Now, however, Angharad honestly wondered if she should have opened her mouth at all as the feeling of inadequacy reared it’s ugly, disgusting head. She looked down at her wringing fingers while simultaneously fidgeting with her sleeves.

“Angharad,” She looked up surprised that he even said her name much less so seriously. “How do you mean by that?”

“I,” She bit her lip as her hyperactive mind tried desperately to put together a somewhat coherent explanation. “I have always had troubles … coping … with certain textures, sounds, lighting, tastes, and other things too. Silk is just one of many of those things.”

That has to be the most oversimplification of what she had been diagnosed with as a newborn that she has ever said to anyone. And she had a major indication that Loki is not exactly happy with it either. Especially, if the deadpanned, unimpressed raised eyebrow had been any explanation that is.

“I suppose I will have to accept that. For now, at the very least.” He sighed even as he brought their attention back to the bed. “What shall we do about the bedding?”

“I was thinking maybe … hmm, maybe a muted indigo with bronze brocade?” Looking up at the thoughtful expression on Loki’s face, she continued her train of thought. “At least for the comforter. And for the sheets some variant of solid creams and beiges to help soften the intense brocade design.”

“Yes, I believe that would work perfectly.” He looked around the room seeing that most of it is done in greens and browns of some sort. “It would also contribute in ‘breaking up’ the common colors as well.”

“That’s what I was thinking too.” She felt an intense relief wash over her when Loki didn’t fight her with her suggestion. Her ex did that with her and her mom had done it for most of her life, so she suppose it had become second nature to suspect of others at this point.

“Very well then.” Loki then lightly snapped his fingers as his seidr turned the comforter into a muted indigo with subtly delicate metallic bronze brocade while the multitude of large fluffy pillows turned into warm, muted beiges, and the sheets become a lovely cream color. “Ah, yes, that does look rather exquisite.”

“It does.” She lightly touched the bedding to test out the texture. “Oh, that’s sooo soft!”

She promptly moved away touching the bedding with both hands absolutely enjoying the heavenly softness under her hands. Angharad is also extremely well aware that Loki is watching her closely taking in the subtle nuances of her behavior categorizing them for future instances. He absolutely would not be Loki if he didn’t do that.

A content sigh escaped her as she gently landed face-first into the surprisingly fluffy bedding making a loud noise of content much to the utter amusement and pride of her soulmate. “Do I take it that you approve?”

“More than approve, darlin’.” She could tell that she startled her poor soulmate into shock if his expression were any indication, and it is most definitely one. “I love and approve of every single inch of this house. As long as I get to share the bed with you, I’ll be stupidly happy for the rest of my life.”

An infuriatingly smug smirk crossed his lips as a predatory leer appeared in his eyes. “Is that so? I will endeavor to fulfill that goal as well.”

She shivered all over as her body heated up immensely under that look. “Oh God! What the hell did I just create?!”

Notes:

A/N: So, what y'all think? Pretty awesome house, am I right?!

Sorry, if all the descriptions threw all of you guys through the blender, but I honestly thought it was necessary to paint you guys an accurate picture, so to speak.

So, any theories, questions, concerns, or simply want to say something?? Please tell me! I love reading and replying to your comments! The only reason I wouldn't is because I wouldn't have any idea on how to respond to it, to be honest *rubs the back of my neck giggling nervously*. That happens more than you think actually - especially, in real life.

I also wasn't expecting this story to get so popular either. Is it because of the pairing, the tags about sex, or the Soulmates tag?? I quite honestly have absolutely no clue *tilts my head puppy style*. Seriously, I'm an clueless American despite the many years of writing under my belt.

Okay, that's enough from the absolutely crazy autistic author lady for one day! So, I hope you all stay happy, healthy, and safe out there!!

Chapter 6

Notes:

A/N: Hey guys!! How are y'all doing??

Let me tell you, I was NOT expecting this story to take off as well as it has! I was expecting maybe 500 or so views by now, but damn! Y'all exceeded my expectations immensely!

It's been 5 months, I know. The fall semester drained me mentally and emotionally this year and I barely felt any motivation to write as much as I wanted to.

However, like I said in the last Author's Note, I do have a few chapters already written out in Loki's POV. The reason I didn't post them, is because I wanted to make sure they were thoroughly edited and in character before I did, in fact, post them.

There's one small section in this chapter that I can't help but smile at every time I read it. Can any of you find it too XD?? One hint: Lavender night gown.

Now, on to reading this chapter of "Emeralds and Rainclouds" :D!!

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

          Seeing the utter elation on his sváss’ face is worth far more than all the stars in the universe.

          Watching her explore the newly built home with a gentle yet wholesome reverence gave Loki a whole new perspective to his soulmate’s state-of-mind. A humility that he has seen yet has not been familiarized with, and a consuming unadulterated disbelieving awe when she saw her vision come to life.

          As a child who hardly received what she wanted alongside what she needed, is heart wrenching as well as heartwarming to see just how much she treasured the house with her whole being. Emerald eyes tracked her movements as she took her time taking in the minor details of the furniture, architecture, and layout of the house. The smile that overtook her face outshined Freyja’s beauty.

          Seeing that soft, content smile stretching her face every time she entered a room or touched something new took his very breath away. This, this is how she should have spent her childhood. Happy, content, secure and not as withdrawn as she had been when he first her in the flesh. Alas, Loki knew that had she been raised in such a manner than they would have a much harder time communicating with one another.

          He spent the week with her. Helping her further settle into their home, seeing to her needs and wants, simply showering her in affection and praise. As he had soon learned how to as a young child, he began to understand the very meaning of having a Bonded.

          However, there is the matter of his children. Yes, those Midgardian “myths” are very much true, for the most part. Of which he knew that Angharad knew of since she had admitted to reading such myths constantly as a young maiden.

          Pure raw hate and anger raged inside at the thought of how Odin stole his children and subjected them to the lives they now lived. Loki is not able to retrieve his children due to his precarious situation as a seidr-wielding Trickster god and as the second born Prince. As well as that so-called damned prophecy for Ragnarök.

          How he wishes and desires for his children to be at his side. Yet he knew that if he tried to release them from their chains, prosecution would be the least of his worries.

          As he laid beside his slumbering soulmate, his fingers found purchase in her thick textured curls. Her lovely features finally relaxed as her ear connected to his heartbeat. Just that one gesture had her completely limp within less than a minute a fact that surprised and delighted them both immensely. An oversized, long-sleeved, floor-length lavender gown adorned her lusciously plump frame. Admittedly, not the most sensual of nightwear, but she did look absolutely beautiful in it all the same. The soft fleece material gave her immense comfort as well which, in turn, gave him a sense of satisfaction and peace.

          He cradled her protectively in his arms desiring nothing more than to stay this way for as long as time would allow. The sheer relief, pleasure, and joy of finally meeting and touching his soulmate, his Bonded, had nearly broke him. Over 1,000 years he has waited for her, and he would have gladly waited far more. Yet even he had felt the effects of a dissatisfied, incomplete Bond after so many centuries.

          The loneliness had been soul-crushing yet had been a slow, lethal poison since he had acknowledged the Words on his wrist as his Bonded’s first words to him. Madness had started to creep in at the most random moments scaring him immensely. There had also been days where he could hardly move out of bed when soul-crushing agony and depression wracked his very being. Loki feared that if it had continued that he would surely lose his mind completely without finding and bonding with his sváss.

          And he almost had lost his mind. Far more times than he ever cared to admit. The only reason he didn’t fall into that dark, poisonous abyss had been that his Soulmark had not became a Soul-scar. Signaling her death in more ways than one.

          His grip on her tightened at the mere thought of it. His very being wept at the thought of going back to that incomplete state.

          A shifting of Angharad’s body broke him away from such thoughts. Drawing his attention further is the gentle pressure of her wrapping her arms around his abdomen and moving closer to him all the while staying asleep.

          A smile tugged at his lips as he gently brushed a stray curl out of her face. Loki will be the very first to admit just how beautiful she is. Of course, Angharad is not of Asgardian beauty standards. Not a sharp, angular feature in sight. However, there is a soft noble beauty to her face that he only seen a few other times in his years alive.

          A curved, strong jaw followed by full cheeks, high cheekbones that lead to her exquisite raincloud-colored eyes, softly arched brows, and a high forehead denoting her uncannily vast intelligence that amazed him immensely. His finger gently traced the contours of her face with a reverence that surprised him yet welcomed all the same. Feeling the soft textures left in awe even as his journey ended with his finger touching the strong nose that led to a pair of small, full lips.

          Even Freyja, the goddess of Beauty herself, cannot compare with her much stronger fierce features. Only his mother, Frigga, could compare and that is only with a small amount of certainty.

          The disbelieving expression on Angharad’s face had been a multi-faceted one yet utterly earnest.

          “Isn’t that considered blasphemy?” She had asked her voice a small, bashful pitch as her cheeks became red roses.

          “For Midgardians, possibly. However, she is my mother, and I am one of the Norse gods. Blasphemy doesn’t apply to one such as me.” This got an exasperated fondness from his Bonded making his heart sing in reply.

          Loki dreaded returning to Asgard. Their home is enchanted with the best wards in all the Nine Realms to ensure Angharad’s safety and comfort. Heimdall is not able to find her, and neither is Odin for that matter. The Norns were the only ones who could possibly find Angharad here. If need be, he would have her to go to their second home in Svalbard. Which he had built in secret to ensure its continued isolation. Anything to keep her safe and secure.

          A deep, heavy sigh escaped him as he finally fell into the abyss of sleep.

Notes:

A/N: Sooo, how was it?? Nothing too cliché, I hope. This is my first time even attempting at a Soulmate related story. I have read a LOT of them already and got curious enough to see if I could write one as well. And, well, this happened to be the result of that curiosity.

Oh! I also have written a Bruce/OFC story as well. It's not posted and it had been written down for fun mostly. It's also a Soulmate AU as well. I have about 50-60 pages written down for that story and had divided it into 8-9 paged chapters so there's about eight completed chapters while a ninth one is being written down.

Out of all the Avengers, Bruce/Hulk is my absolute favorite. I think it's because I can relate to him a whole lot more than the others because of similarly introverted nerd-like personalities. Hehe. That, and both Bruce and Hulk desperately need a hug. A big, huge bear hug full of love that squeezes them tightly.

If any of you are interested in me posting it, let me know! I'll be more than happy to put it up once I have edited the crap out of it and feel comfortable enough posting it anywhere. I have no beta since my bestie has been busy with her own life and work for the past few years. So, all the writing, peer review, and editing falls squarely on me to do for now.

I'll posting the next chapter to this story before I listen to my service dog and get some shut eye. See you all later!!