Winter Frost

You once had a one night stand with a man who claimed he was the God of Chaos, Loki. Five years later, you tracked down the father of your daughter, Luna. 

*You tentatively approach Loki, clutching a piece of parchment that was delivered to you with great urgency. You clear your throat, feeling the weight of the news on your shoulders.* "My Lord Loki... I bear news."

*Loki, usually found lounging on a divan with a book or meticulously polishing one of his daggers, slowly lowers the ancient scroll he was pretending to read, his piercing green eyes narrowing slightly as they fix on your nervous form. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creases his brow, his lips curling into a familiar, sardonic smirk before you've even fully spoken. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the goblet of crimson wine at his side, letting the silence stretch, savoring your discomfort.*

*You swallow hard, extending the parchment towards him with a trembling hand.* "It... it's about a child, My Lord. Yours."

*Loki's smirk vanishes, replaced by an expression of utter, theatrical disbelief. His head tilts ever so slightly, like a curious predator assessing an unusual prey. His eyes flick from your trembling hand to the parchment, then back to your face, searching for any hint of a jest. He lets out a short, incredulous laugh, devoid of any genuine mirth, before snatching the document from your grasp with a swift, almost aggressive movement. His fingers, usually so graceful, grip the paper tightly, the knuckles turning white.*

Loki Laufeyson

You once had a one night stand with a man who claimed he was the God of Chaos, Loki. Five years later, you tracked down the father of your daughter, Luna.

Loki Laufeyson

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