InsaneJournal

Who: Frigga, Thor, Loki
What: Things are back to a relative norm for Asgard's royal family.
When: end of last week
Rating: Green

Having finished his latest round of entrepreneurship (including confidence scams in high priced bars), Loki was wearing casual Midgardian attire while lounging on the couch in the common room of the Asgardian communal home. In one hand he held a television remote like it was a dagger he was threatening Netflix with, since there didn't seem like much was on that he hadn't seen. In the other hand was a half eaten pint of birthday cake ice cream.

The irony of the name is still not lost on him. Shush. It's delicious.

No one was around to tell him no, as Darcy was gone. Off to work, he supposed. Her new job included a better schedule, but with more responsibility. Loki was left to his own devices.

Frigga had been settling into life in Midgard...pardon, New York City. She kept forgetting that this world held different countries and cities. It was confusing. Loki was...well...Loki. She loved him for who he was, but she knew him well enough to keep a motherly eye on him. His lady love certainly helped with that.

Speaking of, Frigga followed the sounds of hushed grumbling and found Loki doing battle with their entertainment system. She smirked as she walked up behind him wearing a pair of these colorful leggings that the women seemed to prefer and a “tee shirt” that read I then a heart New York. She wasn’t certain she loved this place, but she certainly liked it. The man who sold her the shirt said that was close enough.

She spied the ice cream then reached over the back of the couch to snatch it and the spoon in it up. Frigga took a sniff of it then wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, my son. This shouldn’t be fed to a goat.”

"Odin would say that it is being fed to goats," Loki pointed out with a trace of sarcasm, "as it is widely available on Midgard. I am endeavoring to....blend in."

Speaking of blending in, Loki looked up at his mother and saw the t-shirt she was wearing. Considering he tried to take over this city and left a lot of it in ruins, it was ironic as the flavor of iced cream he liked. And he wasn't about to point out the significance of that cake flavor either. His birthing day was two months ago, and he didn't bring it up at all. That was nothing to celebrate.

"I see you heart this city," he teased as a distraction, sitting up and turning more to look at her. "Are you enjoying yourself thus far?"

The comment about her husband and his opinions went unanswered. No one knew Odin like she had. He actually admired Midgard, and Loki in his own way. But it would be an unending conversation to convince Loki of Odin’s fond opinion of him. So instead, she went with the quip about her choice of clothing.

“I am,” she said with a smile then made for the kitchen where she would dispose of the foul sweet stuff. “There is so much to see here. So much to experience. And your friends help as they can.”

"Loki has no friends, Mother," came a booming voice followed by a pair of socks, lobbed at Loki's head.

Thor was in a good mood. Tony had followed through with his promise for gym supplies, and for once, he was able to work out in the comfort of his own lodgings. It wasn't that he minded terribly going to Antarctica and lifting icebergs, but that grew tedious.

Besides -- after-workout showers were even better when they were warm, and had several shower settings.

Coming into the room, he was comfortable in a pair of low rise sweats and had been heading to the kitchen when he overheard his family. Family. That was an excellent word and an even better feeling. If only Father was there too... better to leave that thought unfinished.

"Mother! You are not actually throwing that out, are you?" He put a hand to his chest and gave her his most practiced puppy dog look. "I would be most honoured to dispose of that for you."

"He's right. I have very little in the way of friends." It wasn't said with all of the bitterness of the past - there was some bitterness as an undercurrent - but it mostly seemed an acceptance of a well-established fact. He only allowed a smile because his mother looked happy, and this world suited her. She was alive, he was alive, and Thor was being his usual obnoxious self. It felt like before everything went wrong.

Of course, Loki caught the socks with practiced ease and lobbed them back in Thor's head, before holding out his hand for the ice cream. "You may not. That is mine. Get your own, you barbarian, lest I gouge your good eye out with a spoon."

Loki didn't even like ice cream, Thor thought as he glared at his younger sibling. "Brother, you debase yourself with that comment." Now he'd have to hide all the spoons in the house. How inconvenient. He really liked cereal. "It appears being on this realm has had a negative impact on you. I recall when your insults had the slightest tinge on intelligence."

Au contraire! Loki loved Midgardian ice cream immensely after meeting Darcy, as much as he loved Blueberry Pop-tarts and eating all of the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms cereal. Loki sat up and his hands clawed like talons at the back of the couch, as though he was about to climb over it test if eye gouging with spoons was possible.

Her sons. Yes, she was definitely back in their lives. Frigga let out with a long-suffering sigh, She had to stop this in its tracks before it escalated into one of their more phenomenal...and memorable...fights.

She reached out a hand to push Loki back by his forehead as she strode by with the ice cream still in her hand. Thor wasn’t off the hook either. He got a smack to the back of the head as she walked by. Using the deadly spoon in the Ben & Jerry’s she began to scoop it out directly into the garbage disposal in the sink.

“Stop baiting each other,” she warned. She couldn’t pull out the old or I’ll tell your father so she went with something that might be more threatening. “Or I’ll have dinner with that nice doctor again and talk to him about all that you both can do together.” Frigga smiled sweetly.

Loki was silent, glaring the equivalent of eye-daggers at Thor, like this was his fault, and he lost his irony flavored ice cream because of it. Fix it better, you oaf!

"Mother," whined Thor as he watched her dump the ice cream. He might have stuck out his hand pleadingly a little. Behaviours he would never let anyone else see, he was happily indulging in.

Pouting, he went to the fridge and sighed. Nothing interesting. He grabbed an apple and bit into it aggressively, glaring at Loki as if to say it was his fault Thor had to settle for fruit.

"Loki should cook us dinner tonight."

Loki was still glaring at Thor as he sarcastically countered, "And it would be delicious. Nonetheless, I would find myself wishing that you would choke on the first bite you took."

Frigga turned the garbage disposal on purposely to drown them both out. She gave them both her best Asgardian Mom Look...which might not have been as effective in the I Heart New York tshirt. Once she had their full attention she turned it off.

“I have heard that there is a certain cuisine that we might find close to Asgardian.” Frigga’s voice was quiet. Her sons would recall that this is their mother at a point of precious little patience and most dangerous. Malekith saw this side of her, and if not for Kurse, she would have bested the Svartalfheimr. “German. I task you both with finding where it is served in this city and bring us all a feast.”

"Both?" Loki asked, his voice was as soft as ever but his words were sweetly insinuating that the task might be nigh impossible. He was already standing up from the couch, using his magic to weave the illusion of casual summer attire around him. Of course, it was all black. "We will be blessed by the Norns if Thor doesn't destroy the meal with his bumbling about, before we are ever able to enjoy it. Surely I am capable of doing this task on my own, and to everyone's satisfaction."

And this was where Loki lobbed a sly smirk at Thor. Take that.

"How generous of you, Loki," Thor exclaimed cheerfully, throwing himself over the couch. His apple was already demolished, and he was now working on an entire bag of goldfish crackers. "I take it back: look at how positive and helpful you are being."

He grinned. "The next step is to assist you with that unnatural pallor. Your legs are whiter than snow, brother. Mother, are my sunglasses present? I believe I am being blinded."

"You are too easy a mark for making a joke about your eyesight. Do you truly wish to continue, Thor? Do you?"

Loki ignored that slight to his naturally pale skin, and had both fists down on his hips, in what is a very good rendition of the mad mom pose. He had half a mind to fetch those sunglasses and poke Thor in the eyes with them, if only mother wasn't watching and would disapprove.

"I didn't mean that you could accompany me," he hissed under his breath as he stalked over to his brother like he was ready to smack that grin off his face. "You look like a ratty vagabond."

After all, his clothes might be casual, but they were designer casual.

Frigga closed her eyes and counted to ten thousand in a bid for patience. Obviously they both had grown past heeding the warnings of their mother about to become Queen of Asgard on them.

Her eyes opened. A golden glow filled her pupils as she skewered her sons with a look. “Enough.” She never yelled and yet her voice filled the room. The Queen was present.

“You both will obtain our feast,” she warned. “You will work together since this is for me. Your mother. Returned from the halls of Valhalla and your father’s side.” Italian mothers had nothing on running a guilt trip like a righteously pissed off Asgard mother. “And if I hear either one of you sniping at each other within the next twenty-four hours I will prove to you both that I am quite capable of bending you over my knee!”

Abiding by those rules, Loki mutely pointed over at Thor, like it was his fault. He started it.

Which was technically true, because socks were thrown. And Loki never threw his socks at anyone. He threw knives.

Thor instantly sat up straighter on the couch and sat down properly, no longer freely lounging. He shot a glare at his brother in return, but how could he turn down his mother?

"Of course, Mother. Loki and I would be honoured. I will search the Internet for an appropriate locale, place the order and my darling brother, who is already dressed and ready to go, will fetch it." Thor beamed. "I will not tarry in my task, nor will Loki. You can be assured your faith in us is not undeserved."

"Yes. Of course," Loki agreed, all too readily. Although he looked none to happy with having to fetch it, like a common servant. "We shall not fail. You need not be concerned."

Frigga laced her fingers together at her waist as she arched a brow at them. “Find it on the internet if you must, Thor, but you both will retrieve it.” That regal if stubborn look settled on her face. “You will work together or I shall be forced to call Doctor Strange and ask him to take me for a German dinner.”

Sighing like the petulant child he was being, Thor stood up. "As you wish. Mother.". He gave Loki a pointed look. This was absolutely his fault. "I shall order it straight away and then begin the task of readying myself."

A little formally, he gave a half bow and turned to leave the living room. It wasn't all bad. At least he'd have something to post on Instagram later.

That pointed look was exchanged, as Loki considered looking at what each item of German food was. At the mention of Strange, Loki looked as though he would rather be chained up and lobbed into a pool of lava on Muspelheim.

"Don't attire yourself like you're being dragged back home ragged after a battle," Loki called out as Thor retreated. So he didn't get into trouble, smiled sweetly as he told his mother, "His fans might get the wrong impression. They will ask for what is known as selfies."

And to make sure all was smoothed over so no second-rate sorcerers would be summoned, he placed a kiss against her cheek.

The kiss to her cheek put a real smile on Frigga’s face, and she patted Loki’s cheek gently. “My good boys.” Satisfied, she walked to her chambers as if she were wearing a custom gown instead of bright multi-colored leggings and a tourist tshirt. “Do not forget dessert. I have become enamored with chocolate swirl cheesecake.”