Loves snakes (the_mighty) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2018-12-13 00:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, loki odinson, thor odinson |
Who: Thor and Loki
What: Stop, hammer time
When: November
Where: Thor's place
Rating: PG-13
Aside from breaking into his brother’s home, Loki had put off seeing Thor for long enough. Even he thought so. At first, it had simply been about settling into California in on his own terms, because once Thor became a fixture in his life, Loki feared they would all too easily fall into their old dynamic. Not that Thor ever seemed fully aware of the way they related to one another, the negative aspects, the plight of being the younger brother to Thor Odinson, scientist and saint. But Loki didn’t like to talk about it, so maybe it was his fault things operated the way they did.
The honest truth was that Loki hadn’t seen his brother in some time. And he missed him. He didn’t know what this business about being the God of Thunder and lifting his hammer was all about, but he hoped it would be something entertaining.
Oh, Thor would get Loki back, with the help of Angela, and he had every intention of doing so in a way that was less brute force and more… Loki. It was the only way to surprise him, really.
But he’d changed, some changes from seeing the world the way he had, others from his dreams. Less brash, at least.
Mostly.
He’d left one of the Loki-Santas up, just because he knew that would amuse Loki, and sat on the porch, flipping Mjolnir in his hand.
Loki came to a stop at the bottom of Thor’s porch steps, smiling at the memento of his Mischief Night prank as he caught sight of it. In was the weekend, so he was dressed more casually than if he had come from the university. Of course, Loki’s casual was another man’s overdressed, so the significance of not wearing a blazer over his dark shirt and tie was probably lost on most. His appearance wasn’t as gothic as it had once been, but old habits die hard, and he still believed it looked best in black.
Thor looked a bit older than when he’d seen him last, but not much. It was possible Loki was only hoping his brother had matured in their interim apart and that something in his appearance would reflect that. He wondered what his brother was thinking about him. He squinted at Thor for a few seconds before climbing the steps. “I suppose that’s your hammer,” he said. “Bigger than I imagined.”
At least some things never changed. Loki could always be counted on to be fashionable. Then again, so could Thor, if a different kind of fashion. At least when he wasn’t out in the field. He studied his brother, trying to see any hint or glimmer of the God who he loved and yet had caused him and the planet Earth so much grief and pain.
He grinned at Loki, then set it on the railing. “They all say that.”
He gestured at the hammer. “Go ahead, try to lift it.”
Loki quirked an eyebrow. It was good that their first meeting had an object they could both focus on, or at least they didn’t have to start catching up straight away. At least, Loki thought so. Made things easier, for him.
“Very well,” he said, climbing the rest of the way up to the porch. Loki knew that Thor believed there was some point to this, talk of Gods and all, but so far he’d given it as little thought as possible. They had no shared experience of dreams or anything of the sort. All Loki knew for certain was that Thor was looking at him with that stupid handsome grin of his, the one that came out when he thought he was being effortlessly clever.
Loki rolled his shoulders and wrapped his long fingers around the handle… or hilt, he supposed. The hammer was a more weapon than tool.
He gave it a good yank. And then another. He did not like being shown up and shot Thor a glare. The hammer didn’t budge.
“All right. What’s the trick?”
“You’re the one with the tricks,” Thor said, eyes gleaming with barely contained glee. “Why do you not tell me?”
He picked it up to show Loki that there was no glue or other tricks, then set it back down, starting to grin like this was the best day ever.
Loki had to wonder if this business had anything to do with revenge for Mischief Night, but talk of the hammer pre-dated all that. He enjoyed a good prank, even one at his own expense, but all he really wanted to do right now was wipe that stupid smile off Thor's face. He was enjoying this too much.
And Loki was the slightest bit sensitive about having arms roughly ¼ the size of his brother’s...
He gave it another shot, this time attempting to lift the hammer from below. No dice. “What the hell…?”
“As I suspected,” Thor said, like he was on a nature documentary. “My dear brother is not worthy of Mjolnir. The hammer refuses to let him lift it.” He grinned at Loki again. “Why don’t I hold it for you, you grab the hilt, and then I let go.”
Loki stepped back. His gut told him he would regret if he humored Thor any longer. “No,” he said, quite decided on the matter. He pushed his hands into his pockets. He felt like he was just being teased anyway.
Thor frowned, then set the hammer back on the railing. “I’m sorry. I am not trying to make fun of you.” He gestured at the hammer, “This is real. A weapon of the gods, like something out of myth. It is the only proof I have that I am not crazy when I talk about dreams, until I can command the storms and lightning and thunder.”
Thor was still seated and Loki was standing, giving him rare opportunity to stare down his nose at his brother, which Loki enjoyed. But not as much as he would have, had Thor not started talking about this dream phenomena. It made him uneasy, because everyone seemed to be talking about it, but Loki had yet to experience it.
Which was a common feeling for him about many things.
He sat down beside his brother, putting aside a few of his walls for a moment. “Thor, what are you talking about?” he ask, soft-voiced. He was concerned. “Commanding storms, weapons of the gods? The God of Thunder. You do sound crazy.”
“I cannot explain it,” Thor said. “That is why I wanted to show you Mjolnir. This...impossible thing that came crashing down to earth while I was drinking with an old friend.”
He looked at the hammer. “I have dreamed so many things, brother. A rainbow bridge, the two of us living in a fantastic realm, though I’ve not dreamed hide nor hair of our siblings.”
And other things,things he had no idea how to approach Loki about. How did one say ‘hi you tried to kill us all and take over Asgard and the Earth’?
Loki’s eyelids fluttered as he wondered why he was in Thor’s dreams and yet not dreaming about anything himself. “You called me the God of Mischief,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “Sounds like a pet name.”
He looked over his shoulder at the Santa with his face pasted on. And then Loki turned back to Thor and looked serious again. “Do you have anything else you can show me? So that I know I don’t have to call a doctor on you?”
“A pet name, or an apt description, brother?” Thor shook his head and grinned at him. “There’s one more thing.”
He hopped over the railing, and approached his dilapidated junker of a car that was too small for him, yet he still loved it.
Then Thor picked it up with both hands and held it aloft. It wobbled for a moment, his strength not near his dreamself, before he had to put it down.
Loki felt the color, the little of it that he had, completely drain from his face.
At once, he was on his feet, wobbling himself because he felt lightheaded. He pressed his cold palms against his cold face. “Oh my god, Thor. Oh my god!”
Thor looked at his brother for a long, pregnant moment, before saying solemnly. “I have a large liquor cabinet. You look like you need a drink.”
His mouth still hanging open, Loki nodded. Then he turned and marched for the front door. “I’m glad to hear it, because I just might drink every fucking drop.”