[A bottle of mead - almost empty - lies in the sand. Light from the fire reflects off it in slow, lingering patterns. Somewhere in the darkness the waves advance and retreat upon the beach, a cyclical dance that began long before his birth and will continue long after all this is forgotten.
There were other nights like this, he remembers. Nights when eyes watered from looking at the bright stars too long, when the dying embers of a fire kept watch until the sky grew bright again in the east over deep waves. Nights of long conversations where the place of gods amongst the bright stars was questioned; nights of long silences where the sound of water comforted; and other nights where stars and ocean both were forgotten in place of other distractions.
Sitting here, the warmth of the mead and the fire relaxing him, he can almost believe that the long years since then have all been a dream, a hard dream of battle and loss and pain.
He reaches for the mead-] What are you thinking about, brother?
[ it had been this: fond memories and long adventures, like they were boys again, even if one them was shaking off the cusp of manhood still. this is what Thor had asked for when he had sought out Loki after his death at the hands of the Void, quiet moments and a reminder of what they had been. it was a simpler time that Thor remembered, but something that would bring bitterness to the throat of one in a past life.
it makes Loki all the more defiant to enjoy it. yet maybe he was, even without the unneeded reminder. these are moments that Thor had, still had, and some part of him felt settled with that. ]
Oh ... nothing really, mischief. Mayhem. Counting the number of doorsteps I can set a flaming bag of goat dung upon.
[ but the little curled smile on his face tells a different story. for now, it quells his guilt. ]
[swallowing the mead Thor laughs, picturing dung-induced confusion across continents and the surprised rejoicing of gardeners. it's the kind of prank thor has always found hilarious, no matter how old and serious he's been (any prank involving dung is, in his opinion, gold)
he holds the bottle and the last of the mead across to his brother, catching his eye.]
Liar.
[there is a deep fondness in Thor's voice and look; it is less an accusation and more an endearment.
Perhaps Loki is considering how to cover the nations in dung, but Thor cannot imagine that is all that is going on inside his brother's head. Too often they are mistaken for simple creatures of war or mischief (and perhaps they sometimes mistake themselves for those things), but after time and myth have taken their toll on them, it cannot be so.]
[ there's a pause while Loki examines Thor, the hand offering it, and the mead itself. with some resignation, he receives it, pressing the bottle to his lips and downing the last of it without so much as a wince. it's good mead, but Thor never had anything but good mead. the tastes roll over his tongue, the story of the bees and pollen collected from Idunn's apples, the hands that collected the honey, and the barrels made from the ships covered in northern frost. ]
Ouch—you wound me, that's a wound.
[ and as if in retaliation, Thor receives the empty bottle. ]
Perhaps I was contemplating how long it's been since we've been like this, better times forgotten, like so many myths.
[ Loki doesn't seem to know exactly how he feels about that. it's always been erasing one myth for another, building new and changing perceptions and expectations; he hardly ever thought about what he had lost in a life prior. ]
[ (the empty bottle is not quite the punishment it could be. thor drank most of it)
it's no surprise to hear loki voicing thor's own thoughts.]
Would you return to those times, if you could?
[ thor wouldn't go back, for the simple reason that he is content in this time and place. (some might argue that thor is too easily contendted. thor would argue that's not necessarily a bad thing)
waiting for an answer he holds out his hand, reaching for loki instead of the bottle. ]
[ Loki considers him for a moment. after everything, would he go back? the pain and the sacrifice, the ignorance that came with youth. well, the answer is easy. ]
No. I don't think I could, even if I tried.
[ they were children once, and much like mortals, they could never be children again.
the thought mulls over in his mind, distracting him momentarily before he notices outstretched fingers. dark lashes fall heavily over his eyes as he watches him inch closer, and for the barest of moments, he basks in Thor wanting him. before his brother can withdraw, Loki quells his satisfaction and finds his fingertips with his own. the mead bottle is left forgotten for better endeavors. ]
[thor had tried, once, to bring loki back and have things as they had been before-
but loki now was not the same as any loki thor had known before. just as thor was not exactly the same as his past either. for all their godhood and unfathomable age, there was only one direction for them to move through time, and that was forward
and right now all that thor can see before him is loki. he threads their fingers together.]
Good. In this moment, I would not exchange you for any other Loki, past or future.
[ it was a Loki in a different time, a Loki he never wanted to be again. given, he was the Loki he was now, and he never wanted to revert to anything he was ever again. when their fingers thread a fresh wave of guilt washes over him, sweeping away in the foam in the base of his belly.
if you knew, would you hate me?
the urge to tell him comes so far up his throat that he almost chokes on it, but he swallows it back, making himself ill with self-inflicted grief. the expression on his face melts to something knowing, soft. his dark lashes shadow bright eyes as he slides his fingers between Thor's, feeling the tingle of electricity on the tips near the nail. ]
Do you say that to all the Lokis?
[ dangerous words that could be questioned, so close that he wonders if he wants to get caught. there's a wistful, self-defeating smile on his face. ]
Or do you say that to everyone? Quite the charmer, you are. That's supposed to be my job.
[Thor chuckles, looking up at the stars above them. For all his elemental ties to the wild and changing storm, his devotion to and love for his family and friends has ever been a constant.
He sighs, a long exhale that is a little weary, but mostly relaxed and warm.]
Aye, even at your worst, brother.
[He turns back to his brother. Perhaps Loki at his worst is when he had needed Thor most, and all Thor had been was a hulking great brute, concerned with his own glory instead of the brother he should have been attending to.]
You know my temper is quick and my pride too sensitive. In spite of them, I have never met a Loki whom I did not love, though I sometimes wished otherwise.
in one of his hands was the hand that held Mjolnir, a dangerously coveted weapon that Loki lusted after as soon as he could walk. in all of his hubris and wickedness, he had missed the mark far too often; he had lost in so many ways. in others, he had won. it had taken a long time to win.
a dark black nail moves along the callouses, the smooth place between his knuckles, the places that he's never been privy to, or trusted enough to breech this level of intimacy. ]
I never thought of myself as easy to love. [ bright green eyes fall half lidded as he occupies himself with his hand. ] You were tenacious, Thor. I would have been lost without you.
It has not been with my help that you have established yourself on Earth. [The black nailpolish trailing along his knuckles may amuse Thor, a sign of Loki's attention to the vainer matters in life, but it is also an indication that Loki adapts far better to new circumstances than any of the other Asgardians. Thor lives among the people of Earth, but he will always be other. Loki understands them and can pass among them unnoticed in ways Thor will never be able.
Once, Thor would have disregarded such a skill, but now he can see it for what it is.
He withdraws his hand and moves closer until he is looking fondly down at Loki.] You do not seem lost now.
[ the Asgardians were stubborn and resistant to change (even their mother, much to Loki's chagrin); in their own way, both Thor and Loki had tried to find a way to free them. Ragnarok, the fate that awaited them, and the future where the world was built in existential conditionalities. it wasn't something that either of them wanted: Loki no longer the villain, and Thor bound to something other than his noble deeds.
Loki can feel the ghost of his fingers even when he's gone, and the warmth when he leans in. ]
I wouldn't have established myself on earth unless someone fought for me.
[ he could have taken Thor's compliment, in all of his arrogance, but he doesn't. instead the words carry unusual weight. ]
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Thor
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There were other nights like this, he remembers. Nights when eyes watered from looking at the bright stars too long, when the dying embers of a fire kept watch until the sky grew bright again in the east over deep waves. Nights of long conversations where the place of gods amongst the bright stars was questioned; nights of long silences where the sound of water comforted; and other nights where stars and ocean both were forgotten in place of other distractions.
Sitting here, the warmth of the mead and the fire relaxing him, he can almost believe that the long years since then have all been a dream, a hard dream of battle and loss and pain.
He reaches for the mead-] What are you thinking about, brother?
no subject
it makes Loki all the more defiant to enjoy it. yet maybe he was, even without the unneeded reminder. these are moments that Thor had, still had, and some part of him felt settled with that. ]
Oh ... nothing really, mischief. Mayhem. Counting the number of doorsteps I can set a flaming bag of goat dung upon.
[ but the little curled smile on his face tells a different story. for now, it quells his guilt. ]
no subject
he holds the bottle and the last of the mead across to his brother, catching his eye.]
Liar.
[there is a deep fondness in Thor's voice and look; it is less an accusation and more an endearment.
Perhaps Loki is considering how to cover the nations in dung, but Thor cannot imagine that is all that is going on inside his brother's head. Too often they are mistaken for simple creatures of war or mischief (and perhaps they sometimes mistake themselves for those things), but after time and myth have taken their toll on them, it cannot be so.]
no subject
Ouch—you wound me, that's a wound.
[ and as if in retaliation, Thor receives the empty bottle. ]
Perhaps I was contemplating how long it's been since we've been like this, better times forgotten, like so many myths.
[ Loki doesn't seem to know exactly how he feels about that. it's always been erasing one myth for another, building new and changing perceptions and expectations; he hardly ever thought about what he had lost in a life prior. ]
no subject
it's no surprise to hear loki voicing thor's own thoughts.]
Would you return to those times, if you could?
[ thor wouldn't go back, for the simple reason that he is content in this time and place. (some might argue that thor is too easily contendted. thor would argue that's not necessarily a bad thing)
waiting for an answer he holds out his hand, reaching for loki instead of the bottle. ]
no subject
No. I don't think I could, even if I tried.
[ they were children once, and much like mortals, they could never be children again.
the thought mulls over in his mind, distracting him momentarily before he notices outstretched fingers. dark lashes fall heavily over his eyes as he watches him inch closer, and for the barest of moments, he basks in Thor wanting him. before his brother can withdraw, Loki quells his satisfaction and finds his fingertips with his own. the mead bottle is left forgotten for better endeavors. ]
no subject
but loki now was not the same as any loki thor had known before. just as thor was not exactly the same as his past either. for all their godhood and unfathomable age, there was only one direction for them to move through time, and that was forward
and right now all that thor can see before him is loki. he threads their fingers together.]
Good. In this moment, I would not exchange you for any other Loki, past or future.
no subject
if you knew, would you hate me?
the urge to tell him comes so far up his throat that he almost chokes on it, but he swallows it back, making himself ill with self-inflicted grief. the expression on his face melts to something knowing, soft. his dark lashes shadow bright eyes as he slides his fingers between Thor's, feeling the tingle of electricity on the tips near the nail. ]
Do you say that to all the Lokis?
[ dangerous words that could be questioned, so close that he wonders if he wants to get caught. there's a wistful, self-defeating smile on his face. ]
Or do you say that to everyone? Quite the charmer, you are. That's supposed to be my job.
no subject
He sighs, a long exhale that is a little weary, but mostly relaxed and warm.]
Aye, even at your worst, brother.
[He turns back to his brother. Perhaps Loki at his worst is when he had needed Thor most, and all Thor had been was a hulking great brute, concerned with his own glory instead of the brother he should have been attending to.]
You know my temper is quick and my pride too sensitive. In spite of them, I have never met a Loki whom I did not love, though I sometimes wished otherwise.
no subject
in one of his hands was the hand that held Mjolnir, a dangerously coveted weapon that Loki lusted after as soon as he could walk. in all of his hubris and wickedness, he had missed the mark far too often; he had lost in so many ways. in others, he had won. it had taken a long time to win.
a dark black nail moves along the callouses, the smooth place between his knuckles, the places that he's never been privy to, or trusted enough to breech this level of intimacy. ]
I never thought of myself as easy to love. [ bright green eyes fall half lidded as he occupies himself with his hand. ] You were tenacious, Thor. I would have been lost without you.
[ perhaps he was, for a while. ]
no subject
Once, Thor would have disregarded such a skill, but now he can see it for what it is.
He withdraws his hand and moves closer until he is looking fondly down at Loki.] You do not seem lost now.
no subject
Loki can feel the ghost of his fingers even when he's gone, and the warmth when he leans in. ]
I wouldn't have established myself on earth unless someone fought for me.
[ he could have taken Thor's compliment, in all of his arrogance, but he doesn't. instead the words carry unusual weight. ]