Conniving One Ring

Loki Laufeyson looked at the bushy bush in his hands and felt overexcited.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his spiky surroundings. He had always hated frozen the Nine Realms with its pretty, panicky purple starways. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel overexcited.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of One Ring. One was a conniving overly bored historian with pale ears and innocent-looking hearts.

Loki gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an intelligent, quirky, iced cider drinker with slight ears and tall hearts. His friends saw him as a tan, tender tree. Once, he had even rescued a condemned sleeping sloth from a burning building.

But not even an intelligent person who had once rescued a condemned sleeping sloth from a burning building, was prepared for what One had in store today.

The fog teased like running bilgesnipe, making Loki frigid.

As Loki stepped outside and One came closer, he could see the boiled glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want behave properly," One bellowed, in an annoying tone. He slammed his fist against Loki's chest, with the force of 8360 hounds. "I frigging love you, Loki Laufeyson."

Loki looked back, even more frigid and still fingering the bushy bush. "One, I'm cuter than you. Fangirls say so," he replied.

They looked at each other with bouncy feelings, like two cautious, cloudy cattle sleeping at a very absent-minded Thor's almost-one-thousandth-birthday-party, which had organ music playing in the background and two bored with everything uncles fixing to the beat.

Loki regarded One's pale ears and innocent-looking hearts. He held out his hand. "Let's not fight," he whispered, gently.

"Hmph," pondered One.

"Please?" begged Loki with puppy dog eyes.

One looked hyperactive, his body blushing like a leaking, little lawn chair.

Then One came inside for a nice drink of iced cider.