My Prince Loki
I was five years old when the green, gold and black spotted amphibian looked up at me with curious eyes. He was just sitting there looking at me and I at it on the sunny Saturday afternoon. I had met park animals before and usually a frog like this one would have hopped back into the pond swimming for its life, but this one was different for somehow.
Maybe this frog isn't a frog, I remember thinking as the frog watched me with strange intelligent eyes, and I at it with my five year old curiosity. Maybe it was a Prince turned into a frog by some evil witch or fairy.
“Mummy can I kiss it?” I asked at that moment turning to her and my grandmother.
My Mum smiled at me with a stressed pressed smile, “No sweetheart, maybe leave the frog alone, it’s probably poisonous.”
She told me then to follow her, but being the typical five year old with a burning curiosity I looked back to the frog then to my Mother who by then was busy in her discussion with her mother walking to the playground.
Mum’s not looking, it won’t hurt, I thought, smiling to myself getting on my hands and knees to the frogs level. The frog didn't move, it just stared up at me with his strange emerald eyes titling its head to get a better look.
“Hello,” I started swallowing tightly watching the frog move closer to me, again I didn't flinch,
“I know I’m not a real Princess but my Mummy says I am.” I took a calming breathe out, “So maybe I can get you out of that spell.”
As a reply the frog blinked back at me making a strange croaking noise, it didn't seem to make me flinch or move.
Then, with flinched eyes I kissed the little thing on the head. I still remember the vile taste of mucus on mouth that made me flinch and run away not seeming to care whether the frog had turned or not.
But little did I know that later on that strange little frog would follow me home. But not as the frog or as the dashing blonde Prince Charming I had in mind.
I don’t understand to this day what made me so special. I was just an only child who probably over dosed on her fairy-tale books. So why would a Norse God take an interest in me? How could I broken the “spell” that was on him? Was it my innocence or wanting to help another living creature?
And why did stay with me as long as he did? Why did he want to be my friend? Did he have to do it? Was that the catch of the, “spell”? Like I stated before I still don’t understand why, even in my adult years.
All I know is later on that night I was confronted with my frog, now a young black haired man who towered over me at his height. He’s small smile was on his square face when he knelt to my level. Frightened I held my Madeline toy close looking at the stranger glazing at me with his unworldly bright green eyes.
“Are you my Princess?” He whispered in a velvet voice, the green emeralds that I had seen on the frog from the park shining at me. A little smile spread on my face feeling triumph. I had done it, I really was a princess like my Mother had told me.
I nodded swallowing the tightness in my throat looking at the handsome face of my prince,
“Are you my Prince?”
“I can be if you want me to be,” He held out his hand which I looked at with fright and interest, the small smile now pressed with his thin lips, “I can also be your friend.”
“The very best there is.” I move over then smiling a shy smile at the young man taking his hand that was soft and slender than my own.
“Ok.” I answered with a small shy voice, the big smile I got from him giving me courage, “My name’s Louisa.”
And from that day forward, Loki the God of Mischief was my best friend, the very best a five year old could get. And I was his, the very best a five year old could be to a God. But above all else, he was my Prince. He wasn't blonde haired nor was he strong, but he was cunning and kind to me. He was also only seen by me, no one else could see his smile or hear voice or smell his cologne of leather and unworldly spices.
And because of that for the rest of kindergarten, I was no longer the sad girl with no friends, I had Loki. He was my model when I painted posing for me when I needed him to pose. He was the co-builder when I was in the Lego corner suggesting blocks that would make my towers or little towns more magnificent. He played houses with me drinking my drinks that came to life for both of us when we drank it. Along with making hot chocolate appear he would make boys and girls who teased me wet themselves or made their towers fall down.
And at home, it was pretty much the same. I’d play hide ‘n’ seek with him where’d he multiple himself to make a longer game. He’d read me stories when my Mother couldn't and wouldn't. Sometimes if I was lucky I would tell me his own stories of his recent adventures in Asgard that he went on.
He was the best friend I could ask for and what was better, he was all mine. But with all this, Loki was also my protector with my difficult nuclear family.