A Man-Tart of Cleopatra Standards
Title: Living as Lenore
Author: Luna (aka Luna_del_Cielo on lj)
Fandom: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer/
Cast of Characters: Tara/Lenore McLeod, Fergus McLeod/Crowley, Loki/Gabriel, Anya, Castiel, Eli, Dean, Sam, Scoobies
Summary: Willow tried to bring Tara back from the dead…and she did. Unfortunately, it happened to be in a body 340 years in the past.
This story will explore Lenore’s life as a Prophetess, as a vampire, and finally as a woman struggling to figure out who – or rather, what – she is as her life turns full circle when she meets the Scoobies again.
Pairing(s):Anya/Gabriel, Tara/Willow, and inexplicably several others...Spoilers: BTVS S6E19 ‘Seeing Red’, SPN S2E3 ‘Bloodlust’. Spoilers for Crowley's past in S6 “Weekend at Bobby’s” and allusions to Loki's past in S5
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I did then fewer people would have died in each of those shows :)
January 2, 1700
One day had passed since Lenore’s life had been thrown into upheaval and she was struggling at home to care for the sickly Dawn – who was becoming increasingly pale – as well as her other two children, on top of still suffering from her painful miscarriage. The spell to save a dying babe could only be done under certain circumstances and preparation, so they would not be able to attempt the spell again until next week…and Lenore feared that would not be soon enough for her daughter.
At least her husband was dead, along with the others. Their fellow villagers had ‘rescued’ them quickly after Loki and Anyanka disappeared, falling all over themselves in apology for what had almost occurred to the women. Apparently Anyanka’s description yesterday had been correct. During the village meeting to discuss the witch hunt a great man with spiraling goat’s horns and hoofed legs appeared in front of them and embraced each of the men involved, explaining that he was thankful for their sacrifice and their service to him. Without further ado a mob had quickly formed and rounded up the men to be burned at the stake.
The witches surmised that the Trickster God was true to his name and had played an ironic trick on the men by creating an illusion of Satan. Elspeth had been relieved that Loki’s involvement meant that she hadn’t needed to make a deal with a demon, although they were still not sure why Loki had arrived.
Dawn let out a soft cry and Lenore rocked her slowly in the rocking chair. She began singing an old Celtic lullaby that her ma had sang to her, and after two songs a man’s voice interrupted her.
“Dawn’s an odd name, isn’t it? I haven’t met too many folks in this century with a name like that; least, not this part of the world.”
Alarmed, Lenore looked up and saw the Trickster gazing down at her with a mild look. Fear seized her heart and she mentally prepared spells that may be able to evict the pagan god from her home if she decided that he posed a danger to her or her sleeping children.
“Relax,” he reassured her with a lopsided smile. “I’m not here to do anything bad. In fact, I don’t think you’ve even thanked me yet for assisting you with your crazy-evil husband problem.”
Surprised, Lenore found herself stuttering again. “I-I’m s-sorry. T-thank y-you v-very much for h-helping us, Loki,” she said with downcast eyes as she tightly held onto her babe.
“You’re welcome, kiddo,” he smiled as he plopped casually into a chair facing opposite of her. “Although you should thank your brother – he’s the one who summoned me. While Anyanka would have gotten the job done, it’s likely that innocent people would have died along the way. Last time she dealt with a witch hunt she cooked the entire town, besides the woman who made the wish, in a gigantic cauldron.”
“My brother summoned you?” was her initial response. She had not seen Fergus – he was on bed rest due to some injury.
“Oh, yes. Seems he cares a great deal for his little sister, as well as for his cousin and mother,” Loki mused thoughtfully. “Strange though, to meet a human that is void of true emotion for all but three people in his life – heck, even his son and wife are not loved by him,” he snorted.
Her heart warmed at the realization that her brother had saved them and a smile graced her lips. She would have to go see Fergus as soon as she was well enough to do so and thank him. Elspeth would be told as well so she could properly give thanks. Of course, Lenore’s mother mustn’t find out. She still did not know of her two children’s involvement in witchcraft and and Lenore knew that her ma was still reeling from the fiery execution of her husband.
Of course, Lenore was not terribly upset by her father’s untimely demise. She had never been close to him; he was a very controlling man that had been the one to force her to wed Connor, after all. However, she knew that her mother cared for him. Last night after her mother had returned the children to Lenore’s care, she had looked so lost without Angus.
Lenore resumed her rocking as she began studying the pagan god before her. What was he doing here?
“Aren’t you curious as to why I helped your soul-selling brother, Lenore?” he asked after a pause.
“Yes, I suppose so…but then again, I thought that humans could only speak when spoken to,” she threw his words back at him with a hint of dry amusement.
Throwing his head back, Loki’s laughter rumbled out of him. “Touché, my dear, touché,” he grinned devilishly.
Lenore had to admit, there were not many men who struck her fancy but this pagan god was most alluring. Of course, that had to do in part with his stunningly pure aura that radiated from him.
And, well, perhaps the fact that she had been feeling very lonely for a very long time. It was only her dreams of the mysterious red-haired woman that gave her hope, but after her marriage to Connor she had started to lose the hope of ever finding her; ending up loveless in the pursuit.
“So why?” she asked quickly as she made herself stay focused to the task at hand and not her maudlin musings.
“He begged me,” Loki shrugged. “I initially declined because I had no desire to help some worthless fool who’s stupid enough to sell his soul to a demon. But I asked if he would give up what he had gained for his deal with the demon in exchange for my help. He initially refused – shocked that I would even ask for such a thing – but as I walked away he shouted “Take it! Just take it then!” and I decided to help. First I snipped a bit here and there, and then I set out for the village council meeting.”
“Snipped?” Lenore asked in confusion.
Loki rolled his eyes in exasperation and Lenore was struck by his many human mannerisms. He either had picked up the habit long ago to blend in or had spent so much time with humans that those mannerisms were a part of him now. “By my lady, that brother of yours is a fool!” he stated with a shake of his head. “Did you know that he sold his soul to just get an extra three inches?” he asked incredulously.
Lenore blinked in confusion. “Three inches…?”
Loki let out a snort of laughter. “You know, three inches for his special man-place,” he smirked with waggling eyebrows.
“Oh.” And then, “Ew!” she exclaimed in disgust. “That’s awful! By god, that is foolish!”
She took note of how Loki twitched, like he had a nervous tick, when she said the word ‘god’. Interesting. Did it offend the pagan god to use the word ‘god’ in vain?
“Yes, indeed. But, alas! He has it no longer,” Loki grinned and winked. “In fact, I cut the entire thing off. ‘Twas quite a bit of blood but he’ll live and still has a hole to pee out of,” Loki shrugged.
“What?” Lenore shouted, and immediately regretted it because Dawn let out a cry of annoyance. She lowered her voice to a soft serpentine hiss of anger and continued. “You’re the reason why my brother is bedridden? How dare you injure him so grievously!”
“Please,” Loki scoffed. “That philandering man did not need to use his dick anymore than he already was. It’s not like I strayed from the bargain or any such nonsense – he did say “Just take it then”, thus meaning that I was allowed to take it all. Besides,” he laughed, “I know that his wife is quite glad of his condition and Fergus will indeed live – so why should you be upset? His sacrifice was necessary for me to help him?”
“Why?” she demanded angrily. Lenore hated to think of her brother disfigured and in pain – even if a part of her did know that his sacrifice was perhaps deserved due to his actions in this life.
“Hel-lo-oo?” he asked with a dumb expression as he pointed to himself. “Trick-ster!” he sounded out the word like she was addled. “That’s the game, kid. I screw over assholes who deserve it by giving them their just deserts.”
Lenore stilled as she contemplated his words. “Then why are you here to see me?” she asked cautiously.
Loki held up his index finger. “And that, my dear, is the right question to ask. See I’m here to help you out. Or, more specifically, help out Dawnie here.”
“Why?” she asked him suspiciously, even though she was overjoyed by his offer of help. “Why would you want to help us?”
Lounging back, he smiled at her reaction. “Dawn’s an apt name for your little girl. What made you call her that, anyways?”
Lenore frowned. “Well…it’s an odd story, actually.” She didn’t want to tell this pagan god that she believed that the name came from her past life.
“Trust me, I’ve heard – and seen – some odd stories, kid,” he chuckled as he leaned forward in anticipation.
“Well, I named all my children after dreams I had. I am not sure who those people are but the names have floated to me in the dark seas of my dreams: Alexander, who I often am tempted to call ‘Xander’ yet Connor never allowed me to use such a ‘silly’,” she scoffed, “name. Then there was the name Buffy, but again Connor would not allow such a trivial and foolish-sounding name so we compromised on Elizabeth. Finally, there was Dawn.” Lenore shrugged. “Does that properly answer your question?”
“For the most part,” he mused. “So you have no idea why you dream of these strangers?”
“No,” she replied with a half-truth. She knew that the people likely came from her previous life but she had no idea why she dreamt of them so often.
“Hmm. Well, as I said, Dawn is an apt name for your daughter – for she will be the dawn of your descendants. From her, a strong line will flourish – a line that will bring about balance in the world, one way or another.”
The Temperance card had indicated that she would bring balance to the world. Is this what the card had meant?
Heart racing, she asked the trickster a question. “How do you know this? And why will it be Dawn’s descendants?”
Loki sighed and rolled his eyes. “Come now, I thought you were a powerful witch. Surely you understand prophecies?”
“Y-yes. Is there a prophecy about me? Or my children?” she inquired hesitantly.
“Kiddo, one thing you need to learn straight away is that there is always a prophecy – and in your life there’s going to be oodles of them.”
Lenore chewed her lip as she contemplated his words. “Why will there be so many? I am just a simple woman.”
Loki let out a snort of laughter. “Simple is one thing you are not, Lenore. And don’t worry – the answers will come to you when you are ready for them.” He shrugged. “Or not. Certain folks don’t care much for the feelings of humans, if you know what I mean.”
Then he took his index finger and middle finger and pressed his fingertips against Dawn’s fevered temple. “There,” he whispered. “She’s healed.” He gave her a significant look. “Take care of yourself, Lenore.”
“T-thank you,” she managed to gasp in amazement. Dawn’s forehead was cooling under her touch and her breathing no longer sounded as if liquid was trapped in her lungs; rather she was breathing normally now.
He shrugged. “No problem. Just, er, consider it an exchange of favors.”
Lenore’s back straightened. Damn. She knew that it was troublesome to seek favor from pagan gods, especially a trickster. “What?” she asked warily.
Loki laughed and shook his head in amusement.
Hmm, Lenore was so glad that the trickster god found her to be such an amusing human.
Then his expression sobered and he spoke in a serious tone. “It is nothing that bad, Lenore. Just do me a favor and never mention to anyone what my aura looks like – and don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about because you almost spilled the beans in the church – or that I healed Dawn tonight. Do that, and I will cancel your debt.”
Questions about his aura lay on the tip of her tongue but his eyes, tone, and posture indicated that she would be extremely foolish to question him about it at the moment – or ever. “I agree to your terms, Loki,” she stated instead.
“Smart girl,” he grinned, yet he made no move to leave. Instead his body remained tense, even as he tried to appear at-ease.
Her heartbeat sped up slightly as she took in his features. Loki had an unassuming form – he was short for a man of this region, his hair was a dark blond but underneath the flickering flame of her candles she noticed golden highlights that were streaked through his hair. His dress was modest and at first glance he blended in like any other human. But his eyes…oh, they were a warm amber, like heated maple syrup. His eyes were the most expressive part of him and she was drawn by how they could switch from twinkling with amusement to shining with ferocity so quickly. He radiated this pure sense of power that she had never felt before and it led her to feel conflicting emotions of both fear and safety in his presence. A part of her feared him and what he was capable of doing, yet another part of her yearned to know him and decipher the puzzle pieces that he had carefully laid over his true form and nature.
Noticing that a sly smirk had worked its way onto his features, Lenore felt her cheeks blush at the realization that she had been staring and she quickly turned so she could place Dawn in her crib. After all, her babe would need a good deal of sleep after such an exhausting two weeks of illness.
When she turned around Loki was still standing there in silent observation with his hands held at his waist. “Well, I suppose I’ll be departing,” he said as he tipped his head in her direction.
Something within her spirit screamed at her to get him to stay. ‘He is powerful; he might know more about your past and your future that he would be willing to tell,’ a voice within her reasoned. However, there was a part of Lenore that feared there was a different part of her being that wanted him to stay for selfish reasons.
“Loki? I understand that it is late and after healing my daughter, it would be only courteous for me to offer you a meal, and a bed if you desire,” she invited him formally.
He gave her a considering look and then his eyes glowed with mirth. “Why, I would be pleased to accept your offer of a meal and a bed, but I have one question – will that bed be your own?” he asked with a sly look and waggling eyebrows.
Immediately her cheeks became inflamed and she found herself backpedaling at his forward comment. “I-I, I mean, t-that i-isn’t w-what I m-meant,” she stuttered; silently cursing herself for not getting overcoming that bad trait. “Th-there’s an extra bed now that Connor i-is gone.” Like most married couples, they shared separate bedrooms. Not all families could afford to do so but that was a perk of living in the minister’s house.
Loki chuckled softly and winked at her. “Your virtue is safe, fair maiden. I was only teasing you,” he grinned devilishly.
“Oh,” Lenore said as she clasped her hands awkwardly in front of her dress. Now that she knew he had only been teasing her she suddenly felt foolish. How silly of her to think that such a powerful being desired her in that way!
Although…whispers told her that at one time a powerful being did love her deeply…but once again these whispers spoke in riddles and gave no real answers as to her past so she ignored them.
Now, suddenly feeling annoyed that Loki had made her feel foolish (and yes, also to take out her anger and annoyance at not understand the riddles her mind taunted her with when it came to her past life), Lenore could not help but deliver a sharp-tongued retort. “I am glad you were only teasing, Loki. Since you surely spent last night with that demon Anyanka, you attempting to climb into my bed would make you a man-tart of Cleopatra standards,” she wryly observed.
Loki’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Did you just call me ‘man-tart’?” he asked in clear amusement.
“If the shoe fits,” she smiled innocently at him as she began the walk to her kitchen so she could reheat the stew that her sister-in-law, Molly, had brewed for her. Since it was winter they kept ice boxes outside that could store meat and already cooked food, and it was a simple task to reheat the item over the wood-burning stove.
Letting out deep,throaty laughter, Loki followed her. “And just what is a ‘man-tart’ my fair Lenore? And is that an appropriate word for a lady of your standing?” he teased again.
While a part of her smiled inwardly at him calling her his ‘fair Lenore’ – after all, a man had never paid such compliments to her and the woman from her dreams was only a dream – she gave him a smirk of her own. “You forget yourself, good sir. I grew up with three older brothers, all of whom have filthy minds and mouths. ‘Tis only natural for me to talk like that when I want to.”
Loki laughed and surprised her by setting the table as she brought the fire to a low blaze and began reheating the stew – Connor had never helped her with meals. “That is understandable, I suppose,” he acknowledged. “Yet I am still confused by this new term of ‘man-tart’.”
Grabbing a rag, she began cleaning the dining table – after all, it was a tad bit nerve-wracking to cook a meal for a god! – and glanced up to see his amber eyes focused on her. His lips were curled in amusement and looking at their softness made her chest tighten involuntarily.
Oh god, what was she thinking? Clearly her mind was overwhelmed from the events of the previous day, in addition to suffering over five years with an unromantic and unattractive husband. Not to mention, she had never spent time with an attractive and interesting man in such close proximity – or, at least, one who was not married.
Then again, the tales of the Norse gods did say that Loki was married and had several children.
She met his smile with one of her own and answered his question. “Well, the way I see it, only women are called tarts and men, even if they are sexually promiscuous never face societal punishment, therefore I think that such men should be called man-tarts – or, at least, until a better word can be created,” she added self-consciously.
Loki sat in the chair at the head of the table appeared amused by her statement.
“What is so funny?” she boldly asked him. As soon as the words left her mouth she wondered if she had made a mistake speaking so informally to a god, but equality between the sexes was an important subject to her and she felt personally offended that he – god or no god – thought that her concept of equal persecution was trite.
Giving her an apologetic smile, he simply shrugged. “I do not mean to offend you, Lenore. I am only amused because your pattern of thoughts is most unconventional for a woman of this day and age. There are past societies that viewed the sexes equally but within Europe that ideal was buried long ago. Tell me, where did you come to understand, or desire, this concept of equality?” he asked with an intrigued look.
Now it was Lenore’s turn to shrug as she stirred the stew over the fire. “I am not sure – perhaps my cousin Elspeth and from hearing stories of Queen Elizabeth.”
“I can tell when you lie, Lenore,” he spoke in a stern, yet understanding, voice directly in her ear. Startled she jumped up and almost toppled against him, except he stopped her descent by calmly grabbing her by the shoulders and righting her. The skin underneath the fabric of her dress warmed at his touch and her breath caught in her throat.
Slowly, he turned her around and looked her in the eyes. “I may know more than you think, Lenore, but unfortunately there are certain things I can only answer if I am asked or know of. Therefore, it would be beneficial if you did not keep your secrets from me. Do you understand me?” he asked her in a serious tone.
“Y-yes,” she replied. “I think so. But, wait. Why couldn’t you answer my earlier questions?”
He rolled his eyes, released her shoulders, and smirked. “I said I can answer ‘certain things’, my dear, not everything.”
She let out a groan of frustration and returned to her stew. Yes, now she could understand Anyanka’s negative reaction to the trickster yesterday – he was a maddening fellow.
“If you must know,” she began tersely, “I dreamed about it long ago and have many times upon occasion. A world where woman dressed like men and held numerous important positions, like magistrate. Some even flew into outer space on a mystical white bird! These women were independent and many did not marry until their late twenties. It,” she sighed sadly. “It was a glorious image and ever since then I could not get the idea out of my head. After all, why is it that we do not live in that world? Why must women be second-class citizens?” she huffed in annoyance as her anger caused her stirring to pick up speed.
“Well, well, aren’t you strong like an Amazon?” he commented, seeming amused by her frustrated rant.
Lenore dropped the wooden spoon into the spoon and took a shaky, drawn out breath; it felt like solid iron had slammed into her stomach. A flash of that red-haired woman, this time crying, crossed her mind’s eye…she knew that she was crying because someone had died, someone important to them and Buffy and Dawn and Xander and Anya. Tears leaked from her eyes and her hands began shaking. Oh god, the veil had been lifted just slightly, and just for a moment, but she craved more. Who had died? Who were those people? And most importantly, who was this woman that she was in love with?
“Lenore?” Loki said; a part of her was surprised that a pagan trickster god could sound so gentle at times. “Are you alright?”
Her back still to him, she picked up her spoon and returned to stirring. “Yes, I’m fine. I just had a sudden pain leftover from my, um, incident.” She didn’t know if she could truly trust Loki and telling him her vision felt too personal at the moment. Besides, her incident was a good excuse.
Lenore still couldn’t out loud say what had truly happened to her – that she had had a miscarriage. It made everything feel so real, that she had lost her baby.
Luckily, for her, Loki returned to their previous conversation without further comment.
“Well, what makes you think that the world you speak of is so much better? After all, if women marry so late it cuts into their personal timetable to give birth and grow their families,” he suggested in such a manner that Lenore got the distinct impression that he was testing her; playing devil’s advocate.
Well she would show him.
“In my dream women still had babies – they just did both. I don’t know how it is all possible for them, but I do know that women are unfairly treated in our country, and surely around the rest of the world. God made Adam and Eve as partners to serve as stewards over this world – it is not his will that women are treated so poorly.”
Loki’s eyebrow rose skeptically. “What is so wrong with the life of a woman today? She is cared for by her husband and only has to rear the children and tend to the household. It certainly seems easy enough.”
Lenore frowned at him and, without realizing it, stirred the stew so quickly that it splattered all over her dress. “Oh bollocks,” she cursed under her breath as she set the spoon down and inspected her dress.
“Perhaps what I said angered you?” he inquired with a knowing and amused look.
She just glared at him and began wiping away the strew using a dish rag.
“Lenore, my apologies,” he said contritely and she almost believed him, but she was quickly realizing that this trickster was of both sharp wit and dark humor; it was constantly difficult to gauge his true intent. As she pondered this, he snapped his fingers and suddenly the stew she had been wiping away disappeared off her dress!
“How did you do that?” she asked in amusement.
“Lenore, you’re such a bright lass but then sometimes you say the dumbest things,” he said with a deadpan look. Gesturing towards himself he said, “Me, Pagan God. Me have magic. Me can make things appear or disappear,” he said in a guttural and slow voice.
Lenore blushed. She was more or less enjoying his company but he possessed this annoying ability to make her feel foolish more often than she would have liked. “Alright,” she said with rolled eyes. “I get it. You don’t have to do that Tarzan voice at me,” she chided him as she carried the pot of strew to the dining table.
Loki almost dropped his bowl in shock. “What did you just say?” he rapidly questioned her.
“Ah, I’m not sure…just that you did not need to explain yourself like I’m stupid,” she said in a puzzled voice. “Why?”
Her companion just simply laughed and shook her head. “Tell me, Lenore, how do you know what ‘Tarzan’ sounds like or what one even is? Not to mention, do you even know who Tarzan is?” he asked with one raised brow and he ladled stew into her bowl and then his.
“I-I, um…I suppose I do not know,” Lenore finally admitted as she nervously played with the hem of her apron as she sat to Loki’s right at the table. “That happens upon occasion,” she remarked thoughtfully in a small voice. “I’ll mention something that I have no knowledge of, nor does anyone else.”
“And what do you think it means?” he asked her pointedly, most likely curious to know just how much she understood.
Lenore turned unwavering blue eyes towards him and told him the story of Elspeth’s tarot readings. Throughout it all Loki gave her his rapt attention and, besides Fergus, she could not remember the last time a man showed genuine interest in something of meaning that she had to say.
Of course, Loki was not a man. It was best for her to remember that and to stay wary around him.
“So you believe you’ve been reborn?” Loki surmised at the end of her story. His tone was neither believing nor skeptical – he truly seemed interested in her opinion on the matter.
“Yes,” she nodded. “At this point, that seems to be the only explanation for my lucid dreams and knowing about things that I shouldn’t had I just been raised here in Liberton. However,” she sighed, “I have done everything possible to lift the veil and see my old life, but nothing has worked – no cards, crystals, or even praying to God.”
“You pray?” he repeated in surprise; almost choking on his spoonful of stew at the same time.
“Well, yes,” she answered him in an offended tone. “Why not?”
He shrugged and then his eyes began studying her like a captive animal. “I have never met a Christian witch before. Tell me, how do you balance your worship of pagan deities with the Christian God?”
Lenore felt uncomfortable around the intensity of his stare. “That is a very personal question, sir.”
He raised an inquiring eyebrow and his lips quirked. “Ah, but seeing that I’ve saved your youngest child from certain death, wouldn’t that place us on a personal basis, Lenore?”
She frowned. He was too curious about her and that bothered her. Instead of feeling flattered, she felt worried. What did this being know about her, exactly? And why did he want to know more?
“Perhaps, sir, but that debt is moot since I will be keeping quiet about the very odd pure aura that a pagan of mischief and wickedness exudes,” she carefully explained as she met his eyes and straightened her back. She did not appreciate Loki throwing his favor back at her – in no way did she want to be in debt to a god.
His warm amber eyes cooled and narrowed at her. His presence of power pushed outwards and almost suffocated her; it was heavy and old – much older than she would have anticipated from a Norse god. In response, she wrapped her magic around her like a tight cocoon and likewise placed magical shields around her children, and then met his icy stare with a blazingly defiant one. After all, he was in her home where her children slept and if he even dared to bring harm to any of them she would make him suffer.
Two long and arduous minutes passed until finally she felt his power deflate from the air and back into his being. Then he broke their stare and his head fell back with a laugh. Lenore stared at him, perplexed, and tried to understand his odd actions. Then it struck her and she scowled angrily at him.
“You were, you were testing me!” she hissed as she stared at him in shock.
Loki shrugged and gave her a lop-sided smile. “Guilty as charged.”
She continued to stare at him, aghast. “But why?” Honestly, he was the most peculiar of creatures!
“To see how you’d react,” he responded in a trivial tone. “You know, most witches would not even allow a deity such as I into their home. I am, after all, no Hecate. But you did so and, for the most part, seem unafraid of me, even thought I’m far more powerful than a mere mortal. I find that intriguing.”
Still scowling, she picked up his empty bowl and began cleaning off the table. “You are in the house of my children, Loki, and I will not allow anyone – be thee man or god – to threaten them.”
“Duly noted,” he shrugged. “I promise I won’t do that again,” he vowed sweetly, with all the innocence of a child who promises to stay away from the biscuit can after their mother scolds them.
She turned to him and crossed her arms as she bore witness to his genial smile. “No, you won’t,” she said flatly. “Because you’re leaving. I thank you for your assistance and I will keep up my end of the bargain. However, I cannot allow anyone in my home who is foolish enough to undertake a play of power in the presence of my sleeping children.”
Loki’s mouth opened in surprise. “Y-you’re kicking me out?” he asked in shock. Clearly the deity did not often get kicked out by many mere mortals.
“Yes,” she responded shortly. “I’ll show you to the door.”
Then, hoping that the anger that fed her bravery would extend just slightly longer, she began walking to her front door. Footsteps sounded behind her and she made sure to walk confidently with her head raised and her back straight as a rod. She quickly opened the door and stared at him expectantly.
Face blank, he gave her one more look-over. “I do apologize for my actions, Miss Maclay.”
Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I suppose I am no longer a ‘Missus’ now that I am widowed, but I certainly am no ‘Miss’, either. Not to mention my last name is ‘O’Neil’, sir.”
He gave her a sly grin. “Whatever you say, Lenore.” He pulled her right hand into his own and gave the back of it a gentle kiss. Surprised by his sudden gentlemanly move – the commoners in her village did not display such behavior – she just stared at him.
As his lips left her hand, he looked up at her with a serious expression. “When your thirst for truth has left you parched, forget not what resources you have.”
Without another word he stepped out her door, snapped his fingers, and blinked out of existence.
Taken aback by his sudden disappearance and odd parting words, she stared outside for a moment longer before she shut the door against the freezing cold January wind. However, as she shut the door she realized that there was something in her right hand that fell as she shut the door. Suspiciously, she bent down to better inspect the item and saw a frail Forget-Me-Not flower lying mysteriously on the floor.
Yes…I am a Loki fan and do love to include him whenever possible *grins* He just seems like such a good ‘messenger’ to me, what can I say? ;)
O’Dearest Readers, please holler, yo.
***“Strong like an Amazon” refers to a moment on BTVS S5’s ‘The Body’:
WILLOW: Okay. We can be there for Buffy. And Dawn. (crying) Little Dawn.
TARA: We can be strong.
WILLOW: Strong like an Amazon?
TARA: Strong like an Amazon, right.
***Tarzan was written in 1914, so ‘Lenore’ would have no knowledge of him.