The gift of your presence - coldsong

[volurofthehearth]

Everything is set.

After his previous attempts, and Harrowheart’s advice, Viatorus had taken a little time to consider his next plan. It wasn’t that he thought Loki would demand perfection, but everyone else in his life did. Trying to adhere to that standard was a nigh impossible habit to break. So he had taken a few days to research, ponder, and set everything in order. Now was the time. Nemesis have mercy on his soul.

He’s in his sister’s apartment. A large, immaculate London apartment of perfectly defined rooms that are all the epitome of modernity. The decor consists mainly of sharp corners, furniture blocked out in rectangular shapes in blacks, whites and golds. This is the apartment of someone who holds order in the highest regard. Except that now… Now everything is in the wrong place. Not in a mess, but misplaced. The kettle, microwave, and all the food is in the bathroom. The kitchen table has been replaced by a desk, and the cupboards now find themselves bursting with books, a few ornaments laid out on the counter. There is a luxurious looking bed in the livingroom that doesn’t look like it could get through the doors. Clothes and shoes fill the shelves in place of books or statues. In short, it is an elaborate mix up.

Isidor is going to hate it.

For now, however, she remains blissfully unaware, and Viatorus is left to consider his handiwork as he stands in the living-room-now-bedroom. One piece of Harrowheart’s advice stuck particularly close with him: Whatever the consequences, he must be able to laugh or it’s not a prank, it’s not mischief, and Loki will know. So, with a deep inhale, he prepares to laugh through his sister’s inevitable fury.

Raising his hands, palms upwards, and bowing his head he starts to pray the only way he knows how. Thoughts of Loki, of chaos and a meditation of its virtues had filled his mind as he worked. Now is the easy part. The part he knows. He grounds himself, raises his voice and sends his message into the ether. “I call upon the sly god, the trickster Loki Odinson of Asgard and offer up this act of mischief to you.”

Comments

[coldsong]

He's been listening, rather intently.

Loki's supernatural senses don't extend past the Nexus proper. At least not yet. As he collects followers and friends in adjoining worlds, he expects to grow, if his theories about divinity and interdependence are correct. (They had better be correct; he's not afraid of playing the long con, of trying and failing and trying again, but more and more he thinks his time, even in the safety of the Nexus, is limited.) He can visualize it, the network of branching realities not unlike ley lines on a planet's surface. Not unlike the great structures of Yggdrasil, immense beyond mortal comprehension.

So many things are like that. A root, tree, a branch, a crown, each twig a spring from which still more roots and trees and branches will grow, and so on into infinity. Rivers to tributaries to streams. Snowflakes forming. Lightning branching as it stretches between sky and ground. Fractals.

There is an endless well of strength and endurance in the multiverse. He can see it, he can feel it, but to tap into it is going to be a challenge. A voice calling to him from another world is a vital step in his plan, and he has been straining his metaphorical ears to hear it.

The incident on the grass was a faint tingle at the edge of his senses. Intent really does matter, and the fact that he was being thought about was nice. It wasn't enough, though; he couldn't be sure he wasn't making the sensation up. This, though? This is like a candelabra being lit, flame after flame after flame, and he couldn't be more pleased.

In the grand scheme of things, mixing up his sister's apartment is a small act of mischief. It won't matter to anyone outside of the family (and Loki), and in a year it may just be a funny story to tell at gatherings, but for Viatorus it must be huge. Loki can feel the full breadth of the transgression before the man has finished speaking his name. This is out of character for him, it took a ton of planning, and quite a bit of courage.

Honestly, the fact that it's a younger brother messing around with the elder sibling is icing on the cake.

Loki pops in almost at once, in an uncharacteristically exuberant flurry of green-gold energy. He's already grinning like a schoolchild, and he only flashes a brief glance at Viatorus before doing a quick circuit of his work, fingertips trailing over the edge of a shelf, tugging a curtain aside to peer out the window, clasping just under his sternum briefly.

He's opted to dress for this event, something more akin to the courtly outfits of his youth than the sleek leather armor he wore on Sakaar, with folding asymmetrical patterns and ornate slashes in the sleeves. But he hasn't bothered with the cape or helmet, hair half-bound, half loose around his shoulders.

There's a good thirty seconds where he just looks around, and then he laughs, softly but brightly, a strangely crystalline sound of pure delight. Hopefully poor Viatorus won't be too startled when he turns and claps his hands on his shoulders. "I love it."

[heirtothearcane]

Everything is neatly in place. As perfect a reorganisation as it can get. Only time will tell if that will make it harder or easier for Isidor to replace everything. Viatorus did try to be rather thorough.

Light dances through his eyelids and he looks up just in time to catch the tail end of Loki's appearance. It is a beautiful way of appearing from one place to another, and he's desperately wanted to ask about it since he saw Loki vanish from their first meeting. But one thing at a time. For now he stares wide-eyed in happy surprise that Loki turned up at all! It would have been a shame if he hadn't, but this had always been a gamble.

Folding his hands behind his back, he stays quiet, patiently waiting like a student having his work inspected. He does try to keep a smile on his features, however slight. It's made much easier by how pleased Loki seems by it all. Isidor will undoubtedly be furious at having her life on display: An extravagant amount of shoes in the living room competing with the forest of business books in the kitchen. Loki being not only satisfied but pleased by the offering is a something Viatorus is more grateful for than he would have expected.

Viatorus' eyes are glazed over, thinking about the impending scolding, when Loki claps his hands on his shoulders. He damn well jumps out of his skin. Or at least a good foot off the ground. He quickly reasserts his smile, proved genuine by the reddening of his cheeks.

"You do?" He breathes out a sigh of relief before he can think to not. "I-I'm glad. It took me longer than I expected to come up with it." His eyebrows lift. "A-And you heard my prayer! I wasn't sure if you would."

[coldsong]

Well, she ought to at least appreciate his attention to detail, surely? It does show dedication. And that's the best kind of prank, in Loki's experience: the kind where even the victim has to acknowledge it was a pretty good piece of work.

(Also, he notes how happy Viatorus looks when he shows up. Presumably that's mostly because he's pleased by his success rather than pure delight at Loki's presence, but it's still a novel experience, and quite nice.)

Loki is the last person to judge an individual by the number of shoes or books they own. He's a prince, after all, although he has little enough to his name at the moment. He might remember some of the styles and titles later, but for the moment he's seen what he needs to.

Poor Viatorus. He can't not laugh at that start, but it's meant kindly enough. "It's perfect. Bolder than I thought you would be, quite honestly. I'm impressed."

He nods, letting him go, and his eyes are quite bright. This is the first real offering he's gotten since his arrival in the Nexus. He's felt some mild impact just from having his name recognized here and there, and thought of relatively fondly. But this is better. "I heard. I felt it. A bit like..."

He folds his arms and taps his fingertips on the opposite elbows. "Like being on the edge of sleep, and hearing music, or catching the smell of breakfast cooking somewhere close by."

He feels refreshed.

"And this place. This is your sister's home, I take it?"

[heirtothearcane]

That's it. That's what he wanted, his goal achieved. He impressed Loki, fulfilling his expectations as a Durant and succeeding in laying favourable foundations for his meeting Runa. He can relax a little now.

"That sounds nice. Pleasant." Truthfully he'd prefer to be drawin into sleep than out of it, but he can definitely appreciate the comfortable dream-like quality of the description.

"Mm," he confirms with a nod. He clears his throat, pointing briefly upwards before tucking his hands behinds his back again. "She's with Runa in my apartment on the floor above. She thinks I'm in the Nexus."

[coldsong]

"Pleasant, yes. There should be another word for it, but I'm not sure the sensation translates well into mortal languages." 'Nourishing' comes the closest, but he doesn't want to sound like he's eating prayers. That's just a strange mental image.

'Wholesome' might work for different sort of deity, but Loki is not given to wholesomeness.

Anyway.

Loki showed up fully expecting it was time for him to fulfill his part of their arrangement. He glances down to straighten the ends of his sleeves. "Well, then. Are they expecting my visitation?"

Meeting Viatorus' sister wasn't in the original bargain, but Loki thinks it might be prudent to keep her busy for a while, so that she doesn't discover the mess her brother has made of her place right away. Unless, of course, Viatorus was hoping she just wouldn't want to make a scene with company present. He is also a little curious. He's fully planning on holding onto to this young man's attention for as long as he can get away with it. Learning more about the rest of the family would be appropriate.

[heirtothearcane]

Viatorus is well aware of the details of the bargain. Vividly aware. Isidor made sure of that. It had proven a prudent moment for her to try to emphasise the importance of deals and small print. Which is partly why he's relieved to be setting things in motion, and on a good note, too.

"Sort of." He holds an open palm to the door, and starts making his way out of the apartment. "Isidor knows everything... because she always knows everything. Except what my offering is. I think she thinks I'm going to write my name on a library wall or something."

Once they leave the apartment he holds his hand over the door, frowns for a moment until he hears a click and then turns to the hallway to start up the stairs. It's narrow, but nice. Clean with elegant details.

"I told Runa we were having an important guest over." He glances to Loki with a sheepish smile. "I wanted it to be a surprise. I asked Isidor to stay with her so that she wouldn't find anything out... but I just needed to know Isidor would stay in one place for a while."

At an identical door, he stops and turns to Loki. "Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

[coldsong]

It's not that Loki couldn't or wouldn't try to catch a person in the fine details of a deal. His approach thus far in the Nexus has been pretty informal, though, and he feels some genuine fondness for Viatorus, so he hasn't been playing games with him. At least not yet.

"Don't write your own name on a library wall, friend. Always write someone else's," he tells him absently, but then pauses in the hallway, cupping a hand to his own chin and looking at his new friend from underneath quirked brows.

"...right. You told your wife, who is much more familiar with the Norse pantheon than you, that you were bringing home a guest, but not precisely what guest?"

She's going to slap me for killing Baldr, he thinks. First thing, just 'hello, I'm Loki!' and WHAM--

Well. Perhaps not. That wouldn't be quite the right thing to do to a guest, and anyone who worships old gods and knows old ways would pay some attention to hospitality rules. He did think Viatorus might have read up a little, or asked his wife what she thought, rather than just springing this on her.

"Well, this promises to be interesting, then," he says in a lilting voice. It's going to be a disaster. But if so, maybe that will teach this young husband the value of discussing matters with his wife before he brings them home. "No, I think I would rather go into this with plausible deniability intact, but thank you. Let's see what happens, shall we?"

He smiles at him brightly and clasps his hands behind his back, nodding in encouragement to the door.

[heirtothearcane]

Interesting is one of those words that, when describing a situation, usually means 'fun' to the person using it and 'trouble' for everyone else, Viatorus has learned. So he hesitates, wondering if he should be rethinking his plan, before realising that it's too late to change anything now. If nothing else, he can't keep a god waiting. Still, it's with a little more trepidation that he holds his palm to the door lock, waiting for the click before opening it.

The moment the door swings open Loki is hit with the smell of warm cinnamon and vanilla. Someone is baking, or has been very recently. It suits the interior, too. Warm, gentle colours with deep woods make up the decor of this apartment, with its layout the exact same as the one below. Except for the rooms being in their correct place here.

They walk almost immediately into the living room where a woman dressed as sharply as her apartment sits flicking through her tablet. At the sound of their arrival she looks up with the same green eyes as Viatorus. She looks at her brother first, and then her gaze flits to Loki.

"You got his attention then." She barely gets to see Viatorus' nod before she sets her tablet down and stands, immediately making her way over to offer a hand. Despite the swift introduction, her demeanour is all business. "I'm Isidor Durant, Viatorus' patron and sister."

[coldsong]

It's a curse, 'interesting'. May we all live in interesting times. Loki will just have to play it all by ear, and if this goes as dreadfully as it might, he can decide on the spur of the moment whether to take responsibility for it or point out politely to Viatorus that it was all his idea.

It might not be as bad as he fears. Worship of Loki has always been sparse in his own world; few will call on a trickster god unless they are, themselves, outcast and desperate. There are other deities of magic among the Aesir, perhaps more specialized than Loki, but still likely to be a sorcerer's first choice. Those that spoke his name with hope in centuries past have been mostly as solitary and bitter and iconoclastic as himself. In more recent years, he has been highly vilified, painted as the Norse Lucifer, and it is this that he fears: that it is this particular snapshot of the Aesir with which Mrs. Durant is most familiar. If so, she will not be happy to see him.

But maybe he worries unnecessarily. Certainly Viatorus seems to have a nuanced and historically expansive view of divinity. Perhaps his wife is the same and will merely be surprised.

First thing's first, though. There is an elder sister to be navigated past. Loki's gaze flicks around the room they enter as if he's gauging where the exits are. You know, just in case. The smell of cinnamon is soothing, though, and he takes a quiet breath to enjoy it, then puts on his Prince-manners to greet Isidor. He takes her hand in a firm clasp, giving a handshake and then a small courtly bow over it. "I am Loki Odinson. In all fairness, your brother had my attention when he spoke up in the Nexus. I like a magic-related question. But he has indeed risen to the occasion today, and the call is all the more appreciated since the act of mischief I requested was so far out of his comfort zone. You should be proud of his success."

He flashes Viatorus a smile, half-warm, half-sly.

[heirtothearcane]

While there are many doors, one out onto a balcony, there only seems to be two obvious exits. Every door is closed, which makes it difficult to tell where they all go.

Isidor dips her head respectfully when Loki bows. "A privilege to make your acquaintance." Something said in all sincerity. Though she shifts her gaze to look suspiciously at her brother while the god speaks. It's a look that only grows more accusatory at Loki's sly smile. That's when she turns a well sculpted smile of her own onto Loki. "I'm a little more concerned by the mess I'll have to clean up." She glances back to watch her brother squirm under her gaze. "When he gets in trouble I'm the one who has to clean it up."

"I never get into trouble," Viatorus mutters to his guest.

"You always get into trouble," Isidor corrects.

Eager to change the topic, Viatorus turns to Loki. "Would you like a seat?" Half gesturing as he walks slowly to the couches, he turns to Isidor. "Aren't you going into work today?"

That makes she hesitate. She looks between the two of them. "Well. I thought..."

"He's Runa's god. Nobody wants an audience while they meet one of their gods," he points out. There's a frown on her brow, though, and she does another glance between the two. So Viatorus adds, "She's supposed to be my patron too now, anyway. So you have nothing to worry about."

Isidor's expression says that this is definitely not the case. "Fine. But I'm taking over your study." Grabbing her tablet, she pauses to give Loki another bow of her head, then heads through to one of the doors.

As soon as the door closes Viatorus breathes an audible sigh of relief, and then smiles at Loki. "I'll... I'll tell Runa you're here. Would you like a drink? Tea? Juice? Wine? I think I might have scotch somewhere..."

[coldsong]

A privilege, she says, and Loki finds himself somewhat reassured. Viatorus seemed so innocently awed, and while Loki was undeniably charmed by that, he wasn't willing to assume the reverent attitude would be echoed in the rest of the family, or the world around them. His smile is bright, a little amused, but without the biting edge it sometimes has.

The banter between the two siblings only entertains him all the more. He doesn't bother trying to stifle his chuckle, sitting on one end of the couch and resting his elbow on the arm of it. It's a habit of his to always list slightly to the left when seated, unless he leans forward to place his elbows on his knees, which isn't really appropriate for a polite social setting.

Aha! So she does know enough about him to be concerned. Good. "I've been invited in good faith, and while I am here I will do no harm to this household or any inhabitants," he says in a quiet, lilting tone. "Neither through action nor inaction, in accordance with both common sense and sacred rules older even than I. Enjoy your study."

Once she's gone he looks back to Viatorus, "I would love to know how things play out once she finds out what you've done. Do keep me informed. Tea would be appreciated. I'm partial to honey, if you have it."

[volurofthehearth]

All those promised words an Isidor still lets her frown linger on the two of them before she leaves. That Loki indirectly acknowledged xenia will have to do. May all his fellow gods strike him down if he does not follow it.

At Loki's request for updates, Viatorus forces his smile wider and nods, but betrays his apprehension with a tug of his collar. Whatever comes of this, he'd better hope Isidor sees the funny side of it. "I'll be right back."

The opening of another door sends through a fresh aroma of warm baking and then leaves Loki alone for a few moments in the Dreamwalker's apartment. It is quite homely. Picturesque with its luxurious furniture and bookshelves packed with multilingual titles on Greek myths, dreams, and magic. There are somewhat less studios touches in the fresh flowers and bundles of dried herbs above the doorways.

When the kitchen door opens again Viatorus reappears with a young woman in a fifties style eggshell blue dress. She tucks a loose strand of her braided blonde hair behind her ear and smiles brightly when she sees Loki. Without much encouragement, she strides over cheerily with an outstretched hand offered. "Hello!"

"Runa, this is..." Viatorus rushes to start before realising that perhaps Loki would like to make his own introduction.

[coldsong]

Hey, he's only screwed up xenia, like, twice in his lifetime. And both times Thor was involved. And arguably, both Thrym and En Dwi Gast brought it on themselves. His conscience is clear! Relatively.

He closes his eyes after Viatorus departs and just listens. It feels peaceful. The furnishings say well-to-do, but the herbs, the warmth, and the bookshelves say well-meaning. This is lovely, he thinks. This is not the type of home that should welcome me at all. How did he get into this again?

He stands gracefully when the groom re-enters with his bride. She, too, is lovely, completing an almost unsettlingly picturesque tableau. He feels like a cuckoo in a nest of songbirds. But he smiles anyway, a bit more gently than before, takes her hand and clasps it politely, bowing just as he did with Isidor.

And then he glances at Viatorus as if to say, really, you're leaving this to me entirely? He could introduce himself as nearly any of the Aesir right now. 'Hello, I'm Baldur', 'Hello, I'm Heimdall', 'Hello, I'm Tyr and this is my very advanced arm prosthesis'. Pretty sure he couldn't pull of Thor or Odin without shapeshifting, but still. What would you do then, Viatorus? Contradict the god in your living room?

But he did promise to be on his best behavior. "I am Loki Odinson, of Asgard. It is my pleasure to meet you."

[volurofthehearth]

What could possibly go wrong with letting Loki make his own introductions? Thusfar he's been honest and kind and true to his word... Viatorus may be building up a skewed image of Loki. But it's all his own fault. It means that Viatorus simply looks expectantly between the two of them, providing absolutely no help or guidance at all. He trusts you completely, Loki.

At his honest introduction, Runa's eyebrows rise, her mouth drops open and he gapes like a fish as she looks between the scholar and the god. Is she really hearing this right?

Viatorus smiles and nods to confirm what's being said. He's so proud of himself! Isn't this great?

"Loki? The Loki?" More nodding more Viatorus as she points to him and then asks Loki himself. "The Loki?"

"We met in the Nexus, so he's not from our world." He glances to Loki. "Probably."

Once she gets that this is indeed Loki, all she manages to do is stare with wide eyes, her lips making a small, surprised 'o' shape.

[coldsong]

Oh, how sweet! To be trusted so fully...it really makes him reflect upon how much damage he could do here, in less time than it would take the poor young couple to realize they'd made a mistake. He hates the way his mind works. Especially because he actually sort of likes Viatorus by this point. Loki should not be permitted within 500 feet of a civilized establishment.

He's not going to do anything bad. It's just impossible not to consider the possibility.

"Oh," he hastens to assure them, "I am definitely not from your world. If I were, you would know."

That whole 'army invading New York' thing would have been hard to miss.

He's not sure what Runa's reaction means here. Could be bad. Could be neutral. Could be good...? Maybe? "Amidst the infinite possibilities of the multiverse, I am a Loki. In my own world of origin, I am the Loki, god of mischief, lies, and various others things both savory and un-. Hello."

[volurofthehearth]

Even with this clarification, Runa's expression stays transfixed in what could be awe, could be fear, could be some combination of the two. When a slightly uncomfortable amount of time passes without her being able to say anything, Viatorus realises that perhaps he should try to prompt her.

"Maybe you would like to show him some of your baking?" He suggests. If she gets a moment away to compose herself she might be able to speak.

Slowly, she turns to him, closes her mouth and then nods, hurrying off to the kitchen. Viatorus waits a moment after the door shuts behind her before admitting, "That... wasn't the reaction I was expecting."

Two seconds later and a high pitched, giddy 'EEEEEEEEEEE' makes Viatorus jump out of his skin. He laughs at his own flustered reaction and smooths down his shirt. "Th-That's more what I was expecting."

It only takes another minute before she bounces back in with a bright smile, setting down a tray with tea, cups, milk and honey on the coffee table and then dashes away again. She returns with another tray, this time filled with intricately knotted cinnamon rolls, cardamon and almond buns, and as if that wasn't enough, a traditional Swedish caramel and almond cake ready to be cut.

"If I's have known I would have made something more impressive," she tells Loki, breathless from her running about. "But I didn't expect we'd be hosting a god."

See that look, Viatorus? That's the look of a wife saying, Tell me next time!

[coldsong]

Well, that's a little bit awkward. Could be more awkward, certainly, and he's not being slapped, so that's a plus, but he can't tell what's going on in her mind without actively attempting to read or influence it. Which seems like it might not be an appropriate thing for a guest to do, so he'll just...stand here. Patiently. Glancing between the two of them between amusement and discomfort.

"I did warn you I have a reputation--" he tells Viatorus after she departs, but then he, too, starts at the squeal. For a fraction of a second he thinks she might be injured, and makes a little motion as if to step to investigate, but he quickly realizes that's not the case. At all. Quite the opposite, in fact, and when his host laughs, so does Loki, one arm folding under the other as he cups his hand over his mouth to stifle it. This is so very strange, but not unpleasant. There is a flicker of warmth in his chest.

And then the hostess bounds back in with tea and sweets, and Loki sort of...giggles. Just for a moment. The dazed, bewildered little laugh of a child that's just been presented with a puppy for his birthday. Surely, though, this isn't mine? But it is, evidently.

"Good lady," he tells her, "A warm welcome is impressive enough."

He's still standing from their introduction, but he sits again now, a blend of relief, amusement, and something else on his face. Honestly, these two are adorable, both of them. Even more so in tandem. That's hardly fair. Who allowed Midgardians to become so endearing?

It's strange to find his heart is not as calcified as he thought. "...but I do very much like cinnamon and honey."

[volurofthehearth]

Following Loki's example, Viatorus takes a seat in a nearby armchair while Runa perches on the other end of the same couch as Loki, leaning towards him with her hands perched on her knees. With the initial stunned spell over, it's much easier to read her thoughts in the large, smile that seems so at home on her face.

"I have so many questions," she says suddenly. "About what it's like to be a god, to be you? But..." Her eyebrows tilt upwards, almost apologetic when she continues, "Odinson? I have to ask. You're not a son of Odin in our myths."

[coldsong]

He is not offended, and smiles at her when she asks the question. Still, it takes a moment to gather his thoughts on how to approach this without giving away depressing information that really no one wants to hear. He sips his tea to buy time, sets it down again, and begins:

"You know, you're the first person to question that. There are variations between worlds, of course, and I would not presume to speak for my counterparts in these other dimensions, but I have done extensive reading since arriving in the Nexus. I am aware that my background is slightly atypical. I think I must be younger than some other versions, actually."

"In any case, I was adopted, when my Jotun progenitors abandoned me as an infant. Odin found me, and for whatever reason brought me home to Asgard. I was raised to think of him as my father, Thor as my brother, and Frigga as my mother."

"I did not find out I was adopted until much later. But that is a story I would prefer not to discuss in detail. Yet. Suffice to say, despite our quarrels and mutual shortcomings...I am Odin's son."

Perhaps more Frigga's than Odin's, ultimately, but his father's parting words were shockingly gentle given what had passed between them.

[volurofthehearth]

In Runa, Loki has a rapt audience. Viatorus listens, of course, sitting back and quietly sipping at his tea. But Runa listens to every one of Loki's words carefully. Small nods tell him she understands his warning of multiversal differences, and a small widening of her smile accepts the compliment in being the first to ask after his name.

"So you're Jotun, but raised by Odin" She's more surprised than alarmed, but softly. Reverently. This is after all who he is. To pass judgement on any of it would be, at the very least, insulting and at the worst, callous. When she smiles it's earnestly kind. "I'm glad you have a family."

A giggle escapes her and she clasps her hand over her mouth. "You and Thor as brothers though! I think my nephew and nieces are troublesome, but you must have really kept Odin and Frigga on their toes! There are so many tales of the adventures you had as an adult. I can't imagine how many you must have had when you were young."

[coldsong]

Now he's genuinely impressed. She is an observer, he thinks, collecting both word and nuance as he makes his explanation. He is too accustomed to playing that sort of game himself to miss it in another--although it's likely her purposes are more straightforward and benign than his normally are. Either way, he's starting to think Viatorus married quite well, which in turn makes him want to reevaluate the young man's potential.

They're an adorable couple, but maybe not as delicate as they seemed at first glance.

"More by Frigga than Odin, in all honesty," he says, and smiles into his cup of tea. There is something else there, a flash of pain. He's spoken to her spirit not long ago, and it was as sweet and warm a conversation as he could have hoped--more than--but it's still a tender topic. And yet, rather than dodge it, he dwells.

"She taught me magic. And while I have expanded on my repertoire since, I owe her much." Anything that's good in him is probably her doing, with the possible exception of Odin's wily diplomacy.

He laughs softly then, nostalgic, and gives them both a bright-eyed smirk. "One of our favorite games was for me to build forts on the palace grounds and attempt to hold them while he played at being a conqueror." A bitter irony, considering their later conflicts, but Loki still remembers the games fondly.

"I will never forget the scolding we got when we destroyed Mother's favorite rose bushes."

[volurofthehearth]

Pain twists his features in a flash but when he mentions his mother Runa's relaxes forward, propping her chin up with a hand, elbow on her knee, settling into an adoring expression. Unaware of the misfortune of Loki and his adoptive family, she's free to enjoy the tales of someone close to her patron goddess without anything to bitter their sweetness.

The story gets a warm laugh from her and even a smile from Viatorus, though his is muted by propriety. Unlike her husband, Runa is free from whatever politeness shackles free expression of emotion, which shows in every shift in her demeanour as she goes from one kind of happiness to another.

"Ah you were such troublemakers then!" Her giggle shakes her shoulders and then she hums happily. "I love Frigga. I pray to her every day. She's always been so good to me. I just know she's a wonderful mother." Biting her lip, she can't restrain herself from asking a hushed, "What is she like? In person?"

[coldsong]

One of Loki's strongest personality traits is this: he is ruthless where his own emotions are concerned, and when the occasion calls for it he will tell the stories of his worst moments like they're a fun fireside tale, or a comedy. If he can shirk the pain, dodge the questions, often he will, but if facing it serves his purpose better, well...

He's certainly not going to tell her Frigga is dead, in his world. Dead and safely in Sessrúmnir, no doubt, unless she preferred to join her husband in Valhalla. Loki cannot imagine anyone would dare prevent her from crossing between one and the other at will. If anyone deserves free reign of the afterlife, it's Frigga. (Granted, he's biased.) Aside from that, though, anything he can say of her will be glowing praise, which is not a bad thing for a worshiper of her to hear.

He has to steel himself a little, but he glances up with a smile. "I love her, too. Well...I am not acquainted with whatever version of her lives here, but I must assume she is very like my mother. Hearing that you are a follower of hers is a part of what persuaded me to visit."

A small part, if he's honest, but important nonetheless. "She is...her presence is like the afternoon sun. I can think of no better way to describe it. Golden, strong, warm in spite of bitter cold air surrounding it. It was, I think, easy for those who knew her, even those of us closest to her, to get so caught up in that warmth and light that we could see nothing of the steel behind it. She can fight like any warrior, she can spin a spell that none but the wisest can see through, and yet I will never be able to picture her without the tender smile and open arms of a mother."

Oops, now he's getting caught up in emotion in spite of himself. He helps himself to a piece of cake politely, clears his throat, and then smiles at Runa wryly. "And I will tell you this: none but Frigga could forgive my misbehavior so gently, while still making it clear she didn't appreciate the trouble I caused. So, there it is. That is Frigga, as I know her."

[volurofthehearth]

There's no mistaking how enamoured Runa is by his words. Everything he says surpasses her expectations and though she watches him with a dreamy smile, it's for the thought of his wonderful, wonderful mother, rather than him. It's still probably a good thing that Viatorus is not the jealous type, nor interested in being anything but a silent observer, by the looks of it.

The more he tells her, the more Runa's smile grows until there's a shine to her eyes. Every word is perfect. When she speaks it's with a sigh. "She sounds amazing. More amazing than even I know her as. You're incredibly lucky to be able to know her in person. To have a mother like her."

"Ah!" She straightens suddenly, fanning her hand in front of her face to banish her own tears that threaten. "I'm sorry! You came all the way here and I have you talking so much about Frigga! I'm not ungrateful that you're here, but I needed to know what she's really like."

Taking her cup, she has a sip to clear her throat before smiling at Loki again. "I prayed to you once, you know. My world's Loki, I mean. A long, long time ago. Oh I would have been so different if I had worshipped you instead of Frigga."

[coldsong]

Oh, he knows perfectly well what that smile is all about. If it was for any deity other than Frigga, he would have to protest. His jealousy is somewhat tamed, but really, propriety is a thing. But for Mother, no sentiment is too unseemly. There's a wry glint in his eyes, and privately he wonders what her own home life was like, that she craves the stories of his own mother so dearly. Maybe he'll find out, sooner or later.

"I do wonder...on occasion...what my biological mother might have been like. I thought I might have remembered her voice once, but I can't be sure. In any case, Frigga is more than I deserved. I am lucky," he agrees, and since she's emotional and trying to change the subject, he'll leave it there. The awful truth is far too much to go into now.

He seems surprised by her confession, even slightly sheepish. "...did you? I suppose it would be impolite to ask what the occasion was. Did he answer?"

It almost goes without saying that she would be different now, had she followed mischief and the fire of the wilds rather than wisdom and the fire of hearth and home.