Loki follows Thor through the woodlands of Norway, rendering not a single comment about how a few specific trees that call to the God of Mischief in their ancient tongues, fond of shifters and fey things that exist in-between spaces, are … . repeating themselves. A lot.
He bites his lip, swallows back a chuckle, and continues to indulge his favorite stubborn buffoon.
At last he can bear it no longer, and, as a salmon slips through water, he slips in the words,
“You’ve no idea where we are.”
It’s a dry, dry, ever so dry statement, not a question.
Is naturally oblivious to the tree’s calling to Loki. And is completely oblivious to the fact that no, he has no Norn’s clue as to where they are. He just shrugs his shoudler’s dramatically. Mumbling that Loki worries too much before starting to move North again. His head tipped back as he considers the sky for a moment before letting his gaze fall back to the ground.
There is a mound of dirt that Thor swears they have passed before, remnants of some mortals camp fire once upon a time. And Thor squints. So if they..had passed by that mound..had they gone in a circle?
He refuses to believe it is so, making a sharp left turn and going deeper into the wooded area. Away from the dejavu campire fire remnants. He continues walking that way for what feels like maybe ten..twenty minutes before Loki speaks again and Thor has to concede that his sibling, for all his nagging, might be correct.
“Well..” Thor says, looking somewhat sheepish. “I could have SWORN we were going in the right direction, but then we passed that mound again..and I..might have gotten somewhat turned around?”
His face is almost adorable, it is so sheepish. Though he doubts the downright puppy dog look will work on Loki.
“Oh my gods, Thor, as l do live and breathe …”
Loki sounds halfway between a morose teenager and an ancient, scolding governess as he addresses his big brother. Happy will be the day when the Thunderer’s legendary intrepidness also translates into wisdom.
“We have walked by what I truly believe is some sort of holy burial mound in this forest three separate times, and I have tried very hard to allow you to maintain your pride, but I am hot, and hungry, and tired, and cross.”
He leans languidly on one of the obligingly conversational trees, and presses his forehead to its bark. At first he seems to be swooning in sheer exasperation, but as the moments pass, he draws back from the trunk and straightens unnaturally, neck seeming to elongate on his head, tilting sharply to the left.
His eyes are glazed over gold, the same hue as the eyes of a falcon perched at the top of that tree above them.
Loki shudders and draws a deep breath, then walks directly past Thor, cutting straight through the thickest part of the woods, following the flight of the Familiar he has cast above.
He wiggles a come-hither finger at his brother over his shoulder, without once looking back.
So maybe, justtttt maybe, Thor did not in fact, know where they were going after all. He paused, looking to his irate brother and frowning. Loki was getting crosser by the second, if his sniping was anything to judge it by and Thor was slowly succumbing to a touch of irritability himself. Loki was right. They had passed that mound of earth previously, and the moment before that, and the moment before that. Oh dear. Thor was going to have to conclude defeat on this occasion.
“Aye..” He continues to frown, brow furrowed in concentration as he studies the ground. “I suppose my pride can take a back seat for a moment.” Midgardian slang flowed somewhat easily these days, since he had been spending more time upon Midgard. It was almost hilarious how his speech was changing in the most minute of ways.
Instead, Thor watches his brother with a curious eye and, as Loki begins to walk once more with more determination than Thor had possessed, he does little to complain. Merely following his far more intrepid sibling through the tree thicket. Realizing after some moments that he did not recognize this part. Which told him they might just be going in the correct direction this time around.
“Suppose I should have left you to navigate in the first place.” Thor comments, his voice sincere and without irony.
Loki is bemused by this peculiar question, though in his heart of hearts he’s endeared by the notion of Thor wanting to resemble him even remotely.
Looking in the mirror is ever a painful affair, and the reflection will always secretly repulse the Trickster.
Nevertheless he pushes all these gloomier musings off with a jest, arms crossed over his chest, fingers of one hand wiggling “secretly” with greenish-gold magic that he threatens to release.
Though his instinct is to wiggle away from that mischievous finger wiggling, he’s more contemplative about it this time. True, he still does lean away from the imagined sparks flying out of his brother’s fingers, but he’s seriously considering the prospect.
“Yes,” he says at last. After all, it will merely be a spell and he’ll be back to his natural hair colour the moment he says the word. Hopefully.
“Brother, you are vexed by a mood most peculiar.”
Loki pulls a bemused face and breaths a hiss of laughter; he’s seen Thor’s expression of mawkish fondness and he wants to burrow into a hole in the ground. So distressing, truly, to be a severely introverted soul who also has a paper-thinsensitive heart, but that is Loki to a tee: a secret Frigga took to her grave.
At any rate, he shrugs and casts a thin web of Seidhr, much like a mirage made of heat and water vapors, across Thor’s head, and his hair is dark as pitch.
Loki laughs again, this time not so softly.
“Oh, dear.”
His tongue presses between his teeth and he strives to contain his mirth with loud sharp wheezes.
Thor was not one given to blushing, even if he had been caught red-handed in the act. He did believe that the trick had been one worthy of his sibling, and he only had good intentions in mind at the time. Nevertheless, he had been caught, and Thor raised both of his hands in adequate defeat.
“Aye, so I have been spotted.” The Thunder God proclaims, with no hesitation. “The gesture was with only the best intentions in mind, thus I believed they would brighten your spirits somewhat.”
The handwriting had been the hardest task, making scripture that looked unlike his own was a difficult feat, to be sure. ‘I meant no harm, of course.” Though, Loki would know this.
“Oh, don’t be a fool. You know I can feel nothing but affection for the kindness behind this trick.”
Loki draws near Thor and drops his restless raven head against his brother’s shoulder. Hugs don’t make him particularly skittish coming from those few he trusts, but he is often meek to initiate them. This is his effort to do so.
“I do not, in all honesty, envy you as I once did,” he murmurs, with a small wry smile at his own epiphany.
icyxmischief 