foolyoutwice | (no subject)

(no subject)

The private chambers in this place are horrible. Oh, they're better than the unfathomable sensation of the wormhole, there's no argument about that. On the other hand, they're just good enough to be--depressing? Loki would almost rather sleep hard under the trees than in this bland impersonal domain of plastic and wood veneer, ugly overhead lighting, and dingy wall-to-wall carpeting.

There's also a piece of Art on the wall. Presumably it's Art. He's been staring at it ever since he woke up: a green footbridge arched over a green pond filled with water-flowers, all surrounded with more green. It's probably peaceful; it reminds him of the swirling lights of the void. Loki amuses himself for a few minutes with substituting other illusory images over it. A painting from Frigga's study. A moving illustration from a book he'd read a hundred times as a child. An image of those same swirling lights that he's been staring at for months, or however long it's been.

Well. He doesn't want to be caught lying around in bed. Thor had proposed (heartily) that they meet for breakfast. You must try this new Midgard drink, brother. They call it coffee! Presumably he'd discovered it in that dusty settlement where the Destroyer had found him. So Loki washes in the cramped bathing room, dresses (one pleasant surprise: fresh clothing, his colors and his styles, in the drawers), and strides down the hall to pound on Thor's door.

Hopefully he's waking him from a luxurious sleep.

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Thor grins at that opening sally; it's such a Loki thing. "Perhaps next time."

And then follows Loki's glance to look at his own room, and shrugs. "I suppose mostly. I haven't gone looking. As a guest chamber, it's sufficient."

Because he's not actually here all that much. Because he's not dead.

Uh.

Yeah.

Um.

"But there are larger. I've seen one like an odd human attempt at an indoor cave." Thanks, Bahorel and Jehan's Christmas party that one time! That was a pretty good feast. "I'm sure the lady Bar can provide something more suitable if you wish it."

"An indoor cave." He looks around the again. "...As long as I could choose the art on the walls, it might be an improvement. But thank you," Loki adds, with a rueful Good Boy Manners smile. "I do appreciate the room you found me."

Thor could always not have helped. After that whole trying-to-kill-him thing. "So. Breakfast?"

For an instant he wants to laugh, to cuff his brother lightly on the arm and say something like, when did you get so mannerly, brother? But -- well. Considering other relatively recent conversational alternatives, maybe a few unnecessary courtesies are no surprise.

"Breakfast," he agrees, because why not? Food is delicious, after all.

"But Loki, we must talk."

Before breakfast, after breakfast, whatever.

See, Thor? Loki is Making an Effort at this whole brotherly relationship thing! It's probably just a fleeting impulse, so enjoy it while it lasts.

In fact, he's already looking like he regrets coming here. "Ah--heh. Yes. ....Must we really?"

Thor just looks at him. Without any sign of temper, for now; it is, however, very much a Brotherly Look.

Yeah, they really must.

The Good Boy Manners look turns into Ugh Called Onto The Carpet Again. (Which is almost entirely a mask for twitchy jittery anticipation. Just which way will this little conversation go?)

"All right, brother. Here I am, let's talk. Or do I need--what was it? Coffee?--first?

"Coffee," he confirms. "It's delicious."

"But I think it will wait. Come, brother."

He starts towards the hallway, with the intention of heading outdoors from there. Whatever way this conversation goes, it's not something they need to have out in a little thin-walled guest chamber, or a public meadhall, or around breakable mortals.

The change of venue is predictable and probably smart. Sigh. It would suit the gravity of the circumstances to follow quietly, a good penitent. Sorry about lying to you and almost killing you, brother. Or actually killing you for a few seconds? He's honestly not sure.

...So Loki slips alongside Thor, making bright conversation. "You'll have to tell me what it is about coffee. Besides it being delicious. After all, we have delicious things to drink at home. Is there a story behind this coffee that you like so much? Sentimental attachment? Memories of bittersweet lessons learned? Or simply sweet company?"

Thor isn't honestly sure either, though he hasn't particularly worried either way about it. Predictably, that's one of the least of his grievances about the whole situation. There were extenuating circumstances for that part! Sort of.

So here's Loki, chattering brightly away. Thor slides him a sidelong look that isn't sure whether it wants to be affectionately exasperated, or just plain annoyed. It's just brotherly teasing, except it's too close to things Loki spat at him in the Bifrost control room that weren't funny at all.

"It's a common drink of Midgard now. Especially at breakfast. So yes, it carries memories of good fellowship and generosity at a time of hard lessons."

All of which Loki totally respects, no doubt! (Does he? Once Thor would have said, of course. Now, he doesn't know what to be sure of.)

Just plain annoyed would be fine. The sooner they move to punching the less they have to actually talk, and the less they talk the less likely Thor is to wrench him away from his jealousy and rage. And he's been nursing those, tenderly.

But fine, fiiiine, he'll put on a face of suitable respect for generosity and hard lessons, for about two seconds. "Then I'm truly honored that you would choose to share this with me. Honored."

Well, he's definitely nudged Thor a step or three closer to just plain annoyed with that one!

Which is a great indicator for how this conversation is likely to go. Thor shoves his temper down. (This mostly means that the exasperation quotient of his expression rises accordingly.)

"Cease this pointless baiting, Loki."

Loki draws a finger across his lips. They're sealed. Zip, silence, no more baiting. Shh. Very quiet. Not a word. Nothing.

It lasts until they reach the main room, where he asks, "So are we eating or do we just want to go outside for a little brotherly chat?"

Thank you, Loki. You know, for as long as it lasts.

It's a valid question when he does speak up, though. Thor's been considering the same. But he's a decisive man, for better or for worse, and a direct one. So what he says is, "I see no purpose in delaying."

Do you? He's willing to be persuaded if Loki actually wants to.

"You know it's bound to be a scintillating conversation when you have to step outside before it even starts."

That's fine, though. He lets Thor lead the way out--but he's almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. Let's get this over with.

(For one thing, he has a few favors to ask of Thor when he can.)

Thor laughs, acknowledging the point.

And also a certain history of scintillating brotherly conversations. It's almost jarring to have the Milliways lawn and forest and mountains unfold before them, instead of the familiar vistas of Asgard or Vanaheim.

And it brings sharply to his mind that strange, unsatisfying conversation with Loki's mirrored shadow in Harry Monmouth's body, only a few weeks ago. It's with a feeling of déjà vu that he drops Mjölnir to its strap and half-turns to Loki, offering an arm: shall they?

Oh, by all means. Let's go.

Well then. Off they go, into the wild blue yonder!

Or at least in a long parabola, like a particularly glittering mortar, towards the Milliways mountains. Thor picks a different stretch of mountaintop than last time, but the salient points remain the same: rocky, scenic, windswept, deserted except for some trees and wildlife, and surrounded by the kind of sweeping vistas that any Asgardian prince subconsciously expects for little family tiffs.

Yep. Loki glances around, and gives a wry little nod. This view has Family Conversation written all over it. "I think we're well away from any innocent bystanders. So." He spreads his hands and smiles a bland smile. "You want to talk?"

Asgardian princes probably also expect sweeping vistas and/or monumental gold-plated architecture for a tea party, but: yes. Family Conversation.

There's nowhere to start but bulling right through to the fundamental question: "Loki, why?"

Yes. Of course. That's where Thor would start, and it's such a stupid place to start--why what? Why everything? Go back a thousand years, Thor.

Loki paces away from him, too restless. "I was born to be a king. Isn't that what Father always told us? Here's a throne: you can't have it, but you should." A look over his shoulder at Thor. "I didn't plan your banishment. That was all Father." (All-Father.) "Well. Let's be accurate. That was all you."

Given the opportunity to show how unsuited he was to rule, Thor grasped it with both hands.

Thor stares at him.

(That last sally stings -- because, he knows, it's true.)

"If you minded Father's choice so, why did you not say?"

And the thing is: for Thor, it really is that simple.

And it's Loki's turn to stare. How can Thor even ask that?

"Who would have listened? Father? Ohhh, he made his mind up the day I was--brought home." Not the day I was born. "You? You didn't want to hear it. You could have known any day--any day in a hundred years--if you'd had an ear for anything other than the clash of weapons and the cheering crowds."

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