Loki (fiorvalr) wrote in noexits, @ 2021-07-02 07:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread/narrative, marvel (tv/movies): loki laufeyson, ₴ inactive: fandral, → week 016 (disney world) |
WHO: Loki & Fandral WHAT: Loki tries to remove the sword from the stone, holds Mickey Mouse hostage, and causes damage to the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. Lots of children yell at him. Fandral follows him around eating Dole Whips. WHEN: Day 1; Afternoon WHERE: The Magic Kingdom WARNINGS: None NOTES: If you want to have your character witness any of these embarrassing scenes feel free to say they were nearby or in the crowd! Mock Loki at will. (Also click the cut text for a cute Disney moodboad!) Gather round, citizens of the realm of Disney! And watch as I, Loki of Asgard, become your new king!Code “You have to let someone else have a turn! You’ve been trying for fifteen minutes!” a little girl pouted. She wore a ridiculous pair of pink mouse ears with a mini cone-shaped headdress in the center. It was covered in glitter. So was her face. So was her mother’s face, which was also a distinctly furious and irritated shade of red. Loki shot them both an irritated glance. “Excuse you. But can’t you read, tiny person? It says ‘Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil is rightwise ruler born of England.’ That means they get to be king. I’m a prince. This sword is mine.” Loki tugged on the hilt, but it didn’t budge. “Obviously you’re not the right prince!” the little girl said. “Oh, and you are?” “I’m a princess.” “Well, so am I.” “You can’t be both.” “Yes, I can.” “No, you can’t!” “Can!” “Can’t!” A pimply-faced park attendant cleared his throat. “Sir, you really need to let someone else have a try. There’s a line.” Loki looked up. He hadn’t noticed the line before. “Ah! Excellent! Gather round, citizens of the realm of Disney! And watch as I, Loki of Asgard, become your new king!” The little girl frowned. “I thought you were a princess. Princesses become queens.” “Shh!” Loki brought a finger to his lips and hushed the girl. Then he gave her mother a disappointed glance. “Really, madam. Control your child.” Loki pulled on the sword again. It jiggled a little, but not much. Then he jumped up onto the stone so he’d have better leverage. He gripped the hilt with both hands and tugged until his face turned red. “Sir, there’s a—” “A line! Yes, I heard you the first time!” Somebody snapped a photo of Loki with a large Nikon camera. The flash distracted him and he blinked. “What do you think you’re doing, puny human?” “Taking your picture?” “This is a really weird show,” another tourist in line muttered. “This is NOT a show!” Loki yelled. He stood up tall on the stone and waved a finger at the growing crowd of spectators. “I am Loki! God of Mischief! Prince of Asgard and Jotunheim. One day ruler of the Nine Realms! And when I rip this pathetic sword from this ridiculous stone, you will all be my subjects! So, someone begin preparations for a feast because this will be a glorious occasion!” Everyone in line applauded his speech. This place was overly happy. In a way that brought much joy to Fandral, unexpectedly. Going from a memory-less murder spree to a realm of princesses and entertainment and food galore was enough to really life anyone’s spirits. Or so he assumed. He’d been in line getting snacks -- a drink, a Mickey Mouse ice cream bar, a pretzel -- when he heard Loki’s voice carrying over the crowds. Odin’s beard, what was he doing now? Fandral thanked the attendant and with his food juggled in his hands, made his way over to where he managed to spot the other Asgardian on top of some makeshift stone with a sword hilt protruding from a golden anvil. He was desperately trying to remove the sword and the crowd of people around him both seemed amused, confused, and very annoyed. He looked down at the food in his hand and quickly ate the pretzel while Loki continued to embarrass himself before moving through the crowd toward him. Fandral had managed to find some other clothing (Midgardian, of course), so he stuck out like slightly less of a sore thumb than Loki did currently. The ice cream was next and after his first bite through the chocolate coating, he called out. “Loki!” It was to get his attention, but he grinned brightly. “What are you doing?” Loki’s attention perked up at the sound of Fandral’s voice. Was that a flush of pink on his own face? No. It was just this heat. Clearly. Why would Loki have any reason to be flushed in front of Fandral? Ha! He furrowed his brows. “Have you no ears? I just announced that I was about to remove the sword from this stone and claim my rightful place as king of this rat-infested realm!” “It’s a mouse,” the little girl said. “It’s a mouse,” Loki mocked in a pseudo feminine voice. “Sir, you really need to let someone else have a turn—” “I’ve almost got it!” Loki tugged. The vein on his neck bulged at the effort. “Is this part of a show?” the man with the camera asked. “I think there’s something wrong with this guy,” a woman said. Then she hurried her children out of line. “Come on, kids. Let’s go on the Dumbo ride.” Loki growled, but still the sword refused to move. “Sir, you—” “FINE.” Loki hopped off the stone. The little girl stuck her tongue out at him. He did the same back to her. “Maybe if you were a real princess it would have worked.” Loki shook a finger in the girl’s face. “I always remember my enemies, child.” “You’re weird.” The girl rolled her eyes and skipped off to try her hand at the sword. Loki slumped over to Fandral and snatched the chocolate-covered Mickey Mouse ice cream bar out of his hand and took a bite. He made a face, slightly disgusted and unprepared for the cold. Then he handed it back to him while he tried to swallow without getting a brain freeze. “I hate this place.” Absolute pure amusement is what Fandral felt watching Loki struggle with the sword hilt. His banter with the small girl impressed him -- mainly because she seemed to be holding her own against him, even getting under his skin, and he would have laughed if it wouldn’t have drawn more attention and anger from Loki. Still, he grinned and watched, wondering how much longer he should let it go on. Luckily that decision was made for him and he chuckled as Loki jumped down in a huff. He’d just been about to take another bite of his ice cream when it was snatched from his hand and the look on the other man’s face when he bit into it did make him laugh. “And yet you wish to rule it?” he inquired, taking his bite once the ice cream was back in his hand. Fandral offered him the drink in his hand if he wanted it. “You would likely have to defeat their Mouse King first, anyway. I wonder if he can pull that sword out of the anvil?” His tone was teasing, but he mused quietly and grinned around his next bite of ice cream. “Come. This is a grand place! Are you hungry? Have you done anything here except try to retrieve that sword?” Fandral paused and then raised an eyebrow at him slightly. “We should also get you something else to wear. Who knows if any of these Midgardians will recognize you?” Not that Loki would care much about that, but Fandral didn’t want there to be any issues if it could be helped. “I don’t have to like a place to rule it.” Although, that being said, if anyone actually offered him the kingdom of Jotunheim — which truly ought to have been his! — Loki probably wouldn’t stick around. Because that place was a frozen wasteland of boredom. Loki rolled his eyes at the mention of the Mouse again. “A Mouse King. These people truly are insipid. If a mouse can overcome their minds and endear their hearts to him then surely I will be running this place within a day!” The little girl who was behind him in line squealed as the sword lifted halfway out of the stone. The crowd cheered. Loki stared back at them, wide eyed and furious. Comically furious, but furious nonetheless. Clearly it was a trick. The attendant raised up the girl’s arm. “I proclaim that Princess Chelsea is now Queen of England!” Everyone in line applauded. And Chelsea shot Loki a smug smirk. “I will have my revenge,” Loki muttered under his breath. Then he blinked. What did Fandral just say? “Why should I care if Midgardians recognize me? Let them recognize me. I ought to be ruling them thrice over by this point.” Loki took the drink and sipped it cautiously. Okay, it was better than the weird frozen rat bar. Then he tugged at the corner of Fandral’s shirt. “Honestly, you look absolutely absurd in those garments.” The more annoyed Loki became about the fact that this realm was ruled by a mouse, the more hilarious Fandral found it, unable to stop his chuckles as he tried to finish his ice cream. Of course, the size of it in his hand was ridiculous and he managed to finish it in just a handful of bites, tossing the remaining wooden stick away in the nearest bin. When the small girl squealed, he looked back from where they had come and cheered, shouting out “skol!” over the crowd in enthusiasm as the child was declared Queen of England. Loki was furious, but Fandral was pleased. Two very different sides of a coin, in a way. “Did you learn nothing from before?” he mused, using his now free hand to rest it momentarily at the small of Loki’s back, guiding him through the people so that they could walk. “They are not easily ruled.” Still, Fandral chuckled and reached for his drink to take a sip himself. Shrugging at the remark, he glanced around. At least he fit in, mostly. “Modern Midgardian attire is strange, I’ll admit, but this certainly breathes better. Besides, I need you to help me clean the blood out of my shirt from home before I can wear it anywhere.” Which was true. The shirt had been ruined, but Loki could magic the stains out, hopefully. Granted, the resets meant he’d have to do it every week, but still… Loki just rolled his eyes again when Fandral cheered on the little girl. This of course only seemed to brighten her expression. Anything to make Loki feel like a failure. Midgardian children were more devious than he gave them credit for. He might have to rethink his attempts to rule their realm. If he could gain the love of their children, he could reign victorious. A smirk crept over his lips. But before he could say anything, Fandral was leading him away from the crowd. The hug last week had taken him by surprise. But not this. He didn’t wince at the hand on his back. If anything, he relaxed into it. As thought that’s where it ought to be. Where it belonged. But he didn’t share the affection in kind. Then Fandral said something absurd again and Loki made a face. “Are you asking me to do your laundry for you?” Loki scoffed. “I’m not your handmaid. I’m your prince. Actually, since we’re the only Asgardians here I should technically be your king. Kings don’t do their warriors’ laundry.” Loki pursed his lips. Then he waved his hand in the air. A bright greenish glow sparked from his fingertips. “There. It’s clean.” But Fandral wouldn’t know if that were true until he ventured back to Derleth. People were looking at them. More cameras. One boy even asked him for an autograph. Loki grumbled and then changed his illusion so that he’d look like the rest of these insipid Midgardians. A t-shirt and a pair of dark colored slacks. He wasn’t quite ready for jeans. He still had a reputation to uphold. “If you tell me I need to change my hair I’ll turn you into a toad.” He snapped his fingers and added a pair of sunglasses to his attire. Loki’s inquiry about whether or not he was asking him to do his laundry gave cause for Fandral to give a playful roll of his eyes behind his own sunglasses. “No, I’m not asking you to do my washing, my liege.” Use of the term made him smirk. He wondered what sort of reaction it would elicit from the other man? He caught sight of the greenish spark and raised an eyebrow. Had Loki actually done that for him, despite his protests? A small gesture of goodwill, if he did. It seemed that the request for an autograph had pushed Loki to the edge, finally giving in and changing his look. This made Fandral chuckle again, though he tried to muffle it with another sip of his drink. “I had no intention of mentioning your hair,” he started, grinning. “Though now that you mention it…” He barked out a bit of a laugh and shook his head, amused. “I jest. Would you believe I actually like your hair long like this? It suits you.” Loki tried to hide a grin when Fandral used that phrase. The one Loki had insisted upon when he didn’t have his memories. Most people might have been embarrassed because it was over the top and narcissistic. Not Loki. Loki felt like it was an appropriate term. He was destined to be a king, after all. But he also enjoyed how Fandral made it sound like a term of endearment. Not that he expected that kind of affection from Fandral. But it was nice to get attention. And Loki appreciated the gesture. But when Fandral hesitated at the mention of Loki’s hair, Loki shot him a serious stare. Then Fandral laughed and Loki felt his cheeks warm to a reddish hue. Although why it bothered him to think that Fandral might not like his hair was beyond him. He shouldn’t have cared. Loki tucked his hair behind his ears and let it fall behind his shoulders. “That’s not funny.” He’d never been very good at taking jokes. And growing up with Thor, being the brunt of a bad joke was an all too common thing for him. Then he saw the castle. Loki stopped mid step and stared up at it. He didn’t even attempt to hide his frown. “This is the castle? It’s so small.” No wonder this realm was ruled by a mouse. Loki pouted. He liked the colors though. It hadn’t been Fandral’s intention to wound any of Loki’s emotions; his remark had been completely out of fun, laughing it off and only poking lightly at him about his hair. Chuckling still, he threw his arm around the other’s shoulder and pulled him against his side to press an affectionate but playful kiss to his head. “I was merely teasing.” There had been nothing malicious in his words and he offered Loki a smile, though he was slow to pull his arm away as they approached the castle. Loki pouted, Fandral merely admired it, though not with any sort of love or affection. It didn’t look terribly different from castles he had seen centuries ago on Midgard, though it was nowhere near as grand as what he was used to. Of course, it was really impossible to beat what he was used to. “It’s certainly not as impressive as our palace, is it?” he inquired, his voice soft. Though Fandral knew the fate of Asgard, he hadn’t been alive to witness its destruction, so in his head he could still picture it standing tall and beautiful. Loki didn’t take the kiss to his head seriously. That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. The Warriors Three had been around for hundreds or was that thousands? — Loki couldn’t keep track anymore — of years. And Loki had known them most of his life. Fandral, perhaps, better than the others. So a bit of affection and closeness was not something to spend time pondering over or second guessing. It was an act of friendship. Kinship. Brotherhood. The fact that Loki had allowed Fandral to have his way with his body a few days ago didn’t change anything. It didn’t mean anything. Not a bit. Nope. Didn’t mean anything at all. But for a split second Loki wished they were somewhere else. Somewhere more private. Then the second passed and he was glad for the sunglasses to shield his eyes. That way he couldn’t accidentally reveal his thoughts. “It most certainly is not,” Loki said as he stared up at the castle turrets. A child ran past him screaming about some kind of railroad, a mouse-head balloon tied to his wrist and bobbing along behind him. Loki leaned into Fandral’s side to avoid being clipped by the next child and the mother chasing after them with a stroller. Loki sighed. The last time he’d seen their palace it was on fire. Surtur roared above it, the flames of Ragnarok burning the realm from the ground up. Loki hadn’t said anything to Thor — there hadn’t been any time — but that last image of the palace crumbling to the ground had pained him deeply. He spent many years hating Asgard and Odin and so many other people. But to see the entire realm collapse, forever destroyed, had gutted him. After all, Asgard had been his home. Loki turned into his companion. Close, nearly chest to chest. “Fandral, I should tell you—” Out of nowhere two person-sized mice, one in a tuxedo top and red slacks and the other in a red and white polka dot dress, closed in on them. Mickey wrapped his arm around Loki while Minnie leaned up against Fandral pushing them together. A camera man jumped in front of them out of nowhere. “Say cheese!” “Say wha—?” Loki started. FLASH! Some sort of odd fluttering feeling happened when Loki pressed against his side and he had to clear his throat a little, pulling the other man a step to the side, helping to make sure he didn’t get hit. The carriage that the woman was running with looked like it would hurt if it had hit him. With his attention diverted from the castle, Fandral watched as the children and woman chasing them disappeared into the crowd, a slight worry crossing his mind then. He hoped she managed to catch them. Losing children in a crowd like this would be disastrous, he was sure of it. It was when Loki turned without really moving away from him that his eyes finally moved from looking around them back to his companion. There was that damned feeling again. He offered Loki a small smile, though there was a curious look on his face as he waited for him to finish the sentence. Except he didn’t get to before they were mildly ambushed by the Mouse King and his Queen. “Oh, hello!” he laughed, turning a bit toward the female that had nestled up against his side and giving the camera a grin. There was no need to say ‘cheese.’ “How delightfully unexpected!” Was it? Well, somewhat, anyway. He turned to address the man with the camera. “My good sir, where can I get a copy of that photograph you just took?” After the camera flashed, Mickey tried to give Loki a hug, but Loki whipped his daggers out from somewhere beneath his Midgardian-styled clothes and held a blade up to his neck. “Touch me again, false Rat King, and I will cut off your ears!” Mickey stumbled backwards. Minnie clasped her gloved hands to her face in an expression of mock fear. Did these creatures have no other facial expressions? What sort of bold trickery was this? Loki sensed a measure of sorcery in the air. The attending photographer stood, mouth gaping, as Loki threatened Mickey. Then he blinked at Fandral. “Uhh, you can pick them up at the photography shop on Main Street.” He handed Fandral a ticket with a number on it. Meanwhile, Loki was edging the blade closer to Mickey’s face. “We shall see how much your subjects adore you when you’re missing a nose, my liege lord mouse.” Out of the corner of his eyes, Loki caught sight of two guard-looking individuals briskly approaching them. A devious grin crept over his lips. “The King’s Cavalry has arrived, I see.” Someone really ought to tell him that stabbing minimum wage employees at an amusement park was a very bad idea. “Uhhh.” Fandral hesitated for a moment, his eyes locked momentarily on Loki’s daggers pressed against the head of the Mouse King before he flashed the cameraman an overly charming sort of smile. “Thank you!” he responded, taking the ticket before turning toward Loki. He reached out a hand and cautiously, slowly, tried to lower them away from Mickey. “Come now, there is no need for this,” he said, looking at Loki. There was a seriousness in his gaze before he looked over to the others. There was a crowd starting to form and a nervous laugh spilled out of him. “Forgive him. We are not from around here and he has… trust issues. You see, he was hurt by a rather enormous rodent when he was a child and he’s simply never recovered.” He tried to disguise the frown that wanted to pull at his lips, looking back to the other man briefly. “We’re very sorry. There is no need for your cavalry, I will make sure this is taken care of.” He gave the guards a wave and then grabbed Loki by the elbow, firmly pulling at his arm to guide him away. Hopefully they wouldn’t be pursued. Fandral didn’t care for this to turn into anymore of a scene than it just had. “What?” Loki turned his attention away from Mickey and the approaching security officers to give Fandral a look. “I wasn’t hurt by an enormous rodent. What are you talking abo—?” Oh, but of course. Fandral wanted to protect the poor defenseless Midgardians. Why was Loki not surprised? He rolled his head backwards and then dropped the daggers from Mickey’s neck. But that didn’t stop him from waving one of the blades threateningly at the smiling rodent’s face. “Your realm will be mine, Mouse King. You may have these people’s allegiance today, but I have the power of a seven-day park hopper pass. You have not seen the last of me!” Fandral grabbed him by the elbow and Loki stepped backwards. He sheathed the daggers somewhere beneath his illusion, but security continued to approach. Minnie Mouse, perhaps thinking this was all part of a show no one had told her about, continued to mime confusion and pseudo-fear. But it was a little unbelievable with her perpetual smile. Nearby a toddler started crying. Well, if Loki couldn’t dispense with these pitiful people in his way, then there was really only one other option. He nodded in the direction of Adventureland. Surely they could get lost in that jungle looking area. “Last one to the giant treehouse is an eight-legged horse.” Loki slapped Fandral on the shoulder and broke into a run. The eye roll Fandral gave was less than amused this time, but he held his tongue. He rather had a feeling they could take away the power of that park hopper pass if they wished to, and then where would Loki be? Probably locked up in some room somewhere until he figured out how to escape, truthfully. However with the security guards still approaching, Fandral wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Charm could only get him so far. He supposed he could offer to sleep with them, but-- Loki’s voice cut through that thought and he furrowed his brows before watching him run off. “Loki!” He glanced back at the approaching guards and sighed, before giving them another bright smile and a wave. Following the other’s lead, he dashed off and maneuvered around other patrons, making sure not to accidentally bowl over any small children or women with strollers. But the more he ran, the funnier the situation became for him and he laughed louder, doing his best to catch up as they ran across Main Street and into the adjacent park area. Everything about this had quickly become ridiculous. He caught up with Loki and then gave him a quick smack on his arse, laughing loudly. “You are absolutely incorrigible, you know,” though the way he smiled showed that he found it rather amusing just then. Threatening Mickey Mouse with daggers? Less amusing, but at least the situation was handled for now. Loki laughed as well. He even threw a backward glance to see if Fandral was able to keep up with him. Of course, that almost resulted in him running smack dab into a Dippin’ Dots cart. But he quickly dodged out of the way. Then he hopped over some neatly trimmed bushes, skirted around some street performers, and made a mad dash into the other area of the park. He didn’t slow down until he was near the entrance to the Jungle Cruise. Then he turned around just in time to see Fandral catching up. It seems the Mouse King’s security didn’t have the stamina to run halfway across the park. They’d won the chase, for now. Loki smiled. A real smile. One he hadn’t shown since—well, in a very very long time. But that smile was quickly swept away when Fandral smacked him on the arse. “Rude.” Loki pressed a hand to Fandral’s chest and gently shoved him. “One inconsequential night of passion does not give you the right to liberties.” But there was something playful in his tone. He wasn’t truly angry or upset. He just didn’t know how to respond to it. Then, naturally, being that he was Loki, master of mixed messages, he looped his arm in Fandral’s and strolled through this new area of the park he’d yet to explore. “I am though, aren’t I?” Incorrigible. He liked that word. He liked it even better when it was used to describe him. “Some people like incorrigible. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, incorrigible seems to be your type.” A pair of teenagers walked by with a delicious-looking pineapple ice cream dish. Loki eyed it curiously. Occasionally over the centuries they’d had their moments of legitimate joy together. This seemed to be one of those, both of the oversized men laughing as they ran through the Magic Kingdom, dodging food stands and other patrons. The smile on Loki’s face made Fandral grin, but then he faltered at his words. “My apologies,” he responded quietly, hands up in a slightly defensive move. He hadn’t meant to offend with the playful moment, simply caught up in the moment as it were, and he let Loki shove him. Though it was a gentle shove, at least, and there didn’t seem to be any actual malice in his tone. Still, Fandral gave him an apologetic look, but then let it form into a gentle smile as the other looped his arm around his. Master of mixed messages, indeed. “I am rather fond of incorrigible,” he admitted with a chuckle, strolling almost too casually through the crowded park. “There’s just something terribly fascinating and challenging about it.” Fandral grinned. “And I do like a challenge.” Catching sight of Loki’s curious glance at the ice cream the girls were eating, he paused and called out to them. “Fair maidens! Where did you find such a delicious looking treat?” “What, these?” one of them asked, holding up the ice cream. “It’s called Dole Whip. You can find it there!” She turned a bit and pointed in the direction they’d just come from. “My many thanks!” he replied with a grin. Then lowering his voice, he turned his head a bit to glance at Loki, that smile still there. There was even a bit of a twinkle in his eye. “Should we go partake?” “This particular challenge might be too much for you, old friend. Some fair maidens are not meant to be tamed.” Loki leaned into Fandral’s side as they walked, careful to match the other man’s step so as not to put them off balance. “Some maidens aren’t even fair. And I don’t mean in complexion.” Love was mischief, after all. Or deceit. Or battle. Or pride. Or a weapon. Love was many things. But it was never fair. Loki wasn’t known for having any meaningful relationships with lovers in Asgard. And long term was out of the question. Not that he’d ever been very open about his partners over the years. The Warriors probably had their own assumptions about him, but none had ever broached the subject with him directly as they would each other or with Thor. Maybe because Loki was too secretive. Or too sensitive. Or maybe because they knew he wouldn’t indulge them in any honest details. Or perhaps they were simply afraid of the answer. Regardless, to all who knew him, he seemed the confirmed bachelor. Or bachelorette. Depending on one’s perspective. Loki tried not to roll his eyes when Fandral politely asked the two young girls where they’d purchased their treats. On closer inspection he wasn’t sure that he wanted one. He hadn’t liked Fandral’s frozen mouse head. It was too sweet. But fake sweet. Not like the sweet of fruits, but something more artificial. But he was curious. “Yes. We should partake.” Loki grinned. “In the snack, that is. You haven’t romanced me enough for anything else.” And so he led them off in the direction of the Dole Whip stand. Fandral knew all too well that love wasn’t fair. He’d had his heart broken time and time again, yet he still maintained some optimistic outlook on it simply because the joy it brought him tended to outweigh the pain. Still, he listened to Loki’s words, noting them quietly though he didn’t respond to them. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted out of whatever this was with the other man -- a relationship seemed far out of reach, but companionship didn’t seem too much to ask, though who knew what either of their hearts would find themselves wanting down the road? His own heart was perhaps too open, and he knew how much of a downfall that was for him. “Oh, I’m meant to romance you now?” he asked quietly, though he grinned at the question. Noting that, too. “I suppose that’s not out of the question, though I suspect trying to woo you with poetry or song won’t do much good.” Fandral chuckled. How does one woo Loki? They’d known one another for so long, and yet the other man remained an enigma when it came to things like that. Bar maids and bards were easy enough, but Loki? That would take some thought. When they approached the cashier, Fandral let Loki order what he wanted and just to make things easy, he duplicated that order and then paid. That seemed like a good starting point, at least. “Hopefully these are as good as they looked.” “You’re not meant to do anything. I’m just pointing out that amnesia made the game a little too easy for us both. Clearly neither of us were in our right minds. And my expectations for any future dalliances, assuming I had any, would be very high. Romancing would be the appropriate way to begin. Or, at the very least, a good first step.” But Loki’s tone made it difficult to determine whether he was speaking the truth or playing a game. Then again, when wasn’t it a game with Loki? Even the truth was a match meant to be won or lost. So it was probably no surprise to Fandral that he was as open as he was elusive when it came to other matters. Most notably matters that made Loki uncomfortable. Not the sex or passion, of course. But the emotion beneath it. Not that he was admitting to feeling anything. But he wasn’t not admitting to anything either. Regardless, he ordered pineapple on pineapple. He didn’t know what vanilla was, but it sounded too vanilla. Not very Loki at all. Then he stepped out of the line and into a shady corner under some jungle fronds. This really was a peculiar kingdom. Loki took a bite of the Dole Whip. His eyes narrowed in suspicious contemplation. He let it melt in his mouth. Then he took another bite for good measure. Just to be certain he hadn’t been fooled by the initial taste. Then another. And another. Before Fandral even had the opportunity to finish paying and taste it himself, Loki was already half finished. “This is truly a treat of gods.” He took another large bite and—brain freeze! Loki winced. “Make it stop!” But he continued eating despite the cold pain in his head. Because Loki was nothing if not stubborn. “Hmm. Did it make it too easy?” he inquired softly, curious. In a sense -- yes, it had. Without their memories, of not knowing who they were, it simply came down to instinct and some sort of magnetic draw that neither of them seemed able to, or willing to, identify. And yet there was something about that that continued to appeal to Fandral. He could admit that he’d always found Loki physically attractive, but it couldn’t have been just that if he continued to feel like perhaps he wanted to try pursuing something. It was a strange feeling, to be sure, and a part of him couldn’t help wondering what Thor would think. Or Sif. On the same hand though, he didn’t really care what they would think, either. Fandral had never really been the sort to care what anyone thought of that aspect of his life. By the time he’d gathered his own dish of ice cream and found Loki, the other man was already half way through his and that made him laugh. And then he laughed harder at the moment of brain freeze, though he tried to hide it around his first foray into trying the pineapple dessert. “I can’t be certain, but I think if you ate it slower, you’d avoid your head hurting like that.” It was incredibly delicious though. Better than the ice cream he’d had earlier by far, and thankfully, not in the shape of a mouse head or covered in a hard chocolate, so it was less messy. He smiled and leaned back against the wall behind them, crossing his legs at the ankle and just enjoying himself for the moment. “What was it you were going to tell me, by the way? Before we were ambushed by His Majesty, Lord Mouse.” The question came seemingly out of nowhere and he put another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, glancing over at Loki. Did he actually expect him to tell him? No, but it was at least worth asking. Just in case. Loki knew exactly what Thor would do if he told him he was doing anything with Fandral, regardless of whether it was something meaningful or merely an act to bide his time. Thor would laugh. Sif would laugh harder. No doubt all at Loki’s expense. Because no one ever saw Loki as being capable of having a true relationship with anyone. And truthfully, not even Loki saw himself capable of that. Even his relationships with friends and family had been at a distance. He always kept a layer of doubt and deceit between him and another person. So the thought of him being with Fandral, the man who wore his heart on his sleeve and left ladies swooning on tavern tabletops, in any capacity, would bring about raucous amounts of laughter. There was only one person Loki could think of who might approve of it. But she was dead and he could no longer ask for her advice or her blessing. Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting for the brain freeze to dissipate. Then he sulked at the Dole Whip. That such a sweet and delicious treat could be so torturous. He had to respect that. It was a worthy disguise. Mischief at its core. “Hm?” Loki looked up at Fandral, both brows raised. For a moment he didn’t know what Fandral was talking about. Then it hit him. He lifted his shoulders in a nondescript shrug. “It was nothing. Can’t even really remember now what it was. Clearly not important.” He finished off the Dole Whip, slower this time, and tossed the remnants in a bin. Then he licked off a smudge of ice cream from his lower lip. A crowd of tourists wearing matching t-shirts, following a woman with a green flag, marched past them. Cameras clicking. Children screaming. Couples laughing. “This place truly is a strange and unnatur—” Loki blinked. He’d caught a glimpse of the sign for the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. Of course, Loki didn’t understand this concept of an attraction. He just saw the word ‘pirates’ and a sinister smirk spread across his lips. “Excellent. Come, Fandral. I hope you brought your sword.” He smacked Fandral on the arm and headed off after the crowd. If Fandral had known what Loki’s thoughts were, that perhaps Frigga would be the only one who might have approved of whatever it was that they were doing, he’d have been inclined to agree. What should it have mattered though? To Fandral, it didn’t. “Mm. Alright,” he replied quietly, taking another bite of his ice cream. That had been the sort of reaction he’d been expecting and though he was tempted to press the issue, simply because he wasn’t sure if Loki actually couldn’t remember what it was or not, he held his tongue and continued to eat in quiet. Though that didn’t stop him from noticing how Loki’s tongue dragged over his lower lip. Dammit. He shifted a little and looked down at his dish, now much emptier than it had been, but starting to feel full. Fandral was in the middle of contemplating whether he ought to just finish what was left or toss it before he became uncomfortable when he heard Loki speak and felt a smack at his arm. “Huh?” he questioned, looking up to see the dark haired man disappearing into the crowd. “Oh, hells. Now what?” Sighing, he tossed the remains into the bin and followed after him with a smirk, jogging a bit to catch up. “I’ll have you know I always have a sword on me,” he quipped, grinning. “Though if you meant my rapier, well, no. That did not come with me.” One of these days, Loki would build up the courage to tell Fandral the truth. About his involvement in Asgard’s destruction. Of his accidental assistance in Hela’s hostile takeover which eventually ended in Fandral’s death and the deaths of so many of their people. Of what had happened to him on the Statesmen. Of the painful, crushing moment of his death. Of everything he felt Fandral deserved to know as both his friend and his fellow Asgardian. And if he didn’t build up that courage? Well, then Fandral would have to make the decision to push him further whenever he shook off something nonchalantly. A true sign, if any, that it was something weighing on Loki. And if neither of them could do that? Then there would forever be a cavern of untold secrets between them. Maybe that was for the best. Loki had just gotten nostalgic when he saw the castle at the center of the Magic Kingdom. It welled up feelings inside of him. Loss, grief, guilt. And for a split second he’d almost revealed that anguish he worked so hard to bury. But he was fickle and flighty. And his attention was onto other matters now. He had focus. Pirates. Untrustworthy people, no doubt. Exactly the sort that Loki felt he could do business with. If anyone could help him overthrow the Mouse King it was a scurvy band of unsavory characters. He gave Fandral another look when he made the sword jest. Then he followed it with one of his exaggerated eyerolls. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve seen it, remember? It’s not that memorable. Clearly someone has been paying the ladies of Asgard to tell tall tales.” That tongue thing, on the other hand—the gossip on that had been A+ accurate. Fandral was too slow. Loki grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him into the line, shoving past the people who had already been standing there patiently. That did make him let out a bark of a laugh and he let Loki drag him into the line, apologizing as they pushed past people. Of course, at their size, no one was really going to argue, though Fandral still felt a bit of guilt that they were forcing their way toward the front of the line. Whatever the line was for, anyway, it seemed a lot of people were very interested. “You know, I seem to recall you admiring it rather fondly and referring to it as a longsword. I may not have had a bit of amnesia at the time, but I do remember that much,” he teased with a grin. As they neared the front of the line, Fandral reigned Loki in a bit and pulled him against his side, draping an arm over his shoulders to keep him there. Because he couldn’t just run off and demand a seat on the next available boat. “Patience, my friend, or else we will be denied entrance.” He sniffed a bit and raised an eyebrow, finding the smell of the place strange; he looked over the heads in front of him. “Why are we in this queue, anyway? I missed what caught your attention about this.” “I say a lot of things. Doesn’t mean any of them are true.” Granted, what he’d said about Fandral’s sword while he didn’t have his memories was the truth. It was an impressive specimen of man flesh. And it had performed to well within Loki’s standards. Perhaps even exceeding his standards, although he would never say that. But Fandral didn’t need to know that Loki had been honestly surprised by the state of his friend in the nude or by his experience in the pleasure department. No need to stroke that ego anymore than it already was by literally everyone else in the universe. Besides, it wasn’t as though it were any better than what Loki had to offer. And technically Loki had even more to offer. Because Loki could look however he wanted. He could be whoever he wanted. And he was both a perfectionist and an overachiever. So he did everything with a hearty amount of zealous vigor. The arm around his shoulder halted his progression in the line and he frowned. He really didn’t understand why he had to wait for everything in this realm. He had to wait for the sword. He had to wait for the Dole Whip. He had to wait for the ship that would take them to the pirates. Why was there so much waiting? Loki didn’t have the patience for this kingdom. But it wasn’t a place he wanted to rule. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying anyway. “Did you not see the sign? It said that this ship would take us to pirates. Pirates are mercenaries. Mercenaries work for a fee. We pay them to join our crusade to topple the Mouse King. And then I rule victorious.” Loki grinned. He thought the plan was rather obvious. “Cunning, isn’t it?” “How many are in your party?” an attendant asked. “Two,” Loki said. “But this is my manservant.” The attendant sighed. “Lane one.” Ah, pirates. That explained the murky stench that had hit his nostrils and the strange music that was playing while they waited for a boat. Still, he wasn’t sure that Loki’s scheme was going to work -- this realm functioned quite differently from anything they were used to, even by Midgardian standards. “Our crusade?” he inquired, though he was still smiling as he asked it. “I hadn’t realized I was a part of this plot now.” Fandral chuckled and thanked the attendant as they moved to the line they’d been directed toward, letting the quip about being his manservant fall on mostly deaf ears. He was used to it, though knew that with his arm around Loki’s shoulder as it was, he looked like anything but a ‘manservant.’ Eventually they were shuffled onto a small boat and Fandral eyed it cautiously. “You may want to reinforce this contraption with a bit of magic to make sure that we don’t sink it,” he explained in hushed tones, glancing toward the other passengers as they began to get seated. He knew how to adjust his weight when it came to a lot of things so as to not crush, break, or smother, but this boat didn’t seem like it would be capable of holding both of them. “Of course you’re part of this plot. You’re with me. We’re together. This is a dynamic duo. A team-up. I’m still the one in charge, naturally, but your role in this is just as important. Essential even. Wouldn’t want to take over the Mouse Kingdom with anyone else.” Cue another one of those sarcastic Loki smiles. Loki crossed through the line to the front of the boat. It did wobble a bit. Fandral was right. And so Loki used a bit of magic to reinforce the bottom of the dingy. It lit up in green beneath the water. A child behind them pointed at the green glow, but his mother, frazzled by a full day in a park with a five-year-old ignored him, tugging the boy into the row behind them. Loki also turned up his nose at the smell. An odd combination of stale water, iron finishes, and human sweat. But before he could say anything about it, the boat released into the dark confines of the attraction. Eventually someone would have to explain what an amusement park was to Loki. Needless to say, his expectations were a little dashed when they curved through various depictions of small seaside villages overwrought with pirates. But those pirates looked peculiar, didn’t they? And Loki might have figured it out and ignored the animatronics all the way until the end if one of them hadn’t popped out from behind a barrel nearby, causing him to leap out of the boat and thrust his dagger on instinct. Right through the center of Jack Sparrow’s robot skull. “Robot pirates?” Loki couldn’t have looked more confused. The boat slowed to a stop and a voice on an intercom asked passengers to please remain seated in their vessels. Loki pulled his dagger out of the robot’s skull and climbed back into the boat beside Fandral. “That man killed Captain Jack Sparrow!” a little girl cried. “That was so cool!” the boy behind him called out. The boy’s mother shushed him. The boat continued on and the boy leaned forward, sticking his head between Loki and Fandral. “Is that a real knife? Are you a pirate too? Can you do that again? Does your friend have a knife? Did you buy that at the gift shop? How much did that cost? I’m from Nebraska. We’re here for my birthday. I just turned five! We took an airplane to get here. Did you take an airplane? Can I hold your knife? Do you work here?” Loki turned his head to the boy. “Shh!” Then he looked back at Fandral. “Those weren’t real pirates. It’s all fake. A deception.” The boat curved into a new corridor depicting a dog holding keys to a prison cell. “That’s not even a real dog!” Loki hissed. “I have a dog at home,” the boy said. “His name is Roger. He’s a cocker spaniel.” “Shh!” He’d hardly had a chance to enjoy the ride -- what there was to enjoy, anyways -- before something caught Loki off guard and the other man had magicked himself out of the boat, a dagger finding its way into the head of the animatronic. Fandral gawked for a moment and then looked down at his feet, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You know, I’ve half a mind to tell you to give me your daggers,” he said once Loki was back to being seated next to him, a half-amused look on his face. The situation was ridiculous; how could he not be at least a little amused? Chuckling, he shook his head a bit and then jumped slightly when the small boy behind them leaned forward and… talked. And talked. And talked. Wow. He glanced over at Loki and raised a brow before turning a bit to look at the boy, flashing him and his mother a charming smile. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed almost as if she swooned at that moment. “If you sit and enjoy the remainder of the ride, I will be happy to answer all of your questions once we’re back on land. How does that sound, young sir? I am no pirate, but I do have many tales of adventures that I would be happy to bestow upon you.” Loki caught the swooning expression on the woman’s face and rolled his eyes. Then he slumped down in the boat, arms crossed, as it continued on through the darkened tunnel. He watched carefully however. It wasn’t even a trick. It was a show. A spectacle! A giant theatre! And it made Loki wonder about that sword in the stone. Had that also been an elaborate performance? Were these Midgardians paying to be entertained by displays of fake adventures and pseudo-heroism? But that little boy kept chattering on. Loki lowered his head to be eye level with the kid. “Don’t listen to him, child. We are pirates. And if you don’t keep your mouth shut for the rest of this pantomime I’ll make you walk the plank.” The boy opened his mouth as though to say something and then thought better of it. He wasn’t upset. In fact, if anything, he was even more enamoured of the two strange men in the front row. But he sat back in his seat and kept quiet. Probably hoping he’d be able to get a better look at those knives at the end of the ride. His mother, on the other hand, was still ogling the back of Fandral’s head. Loki also kept quiet for the rest of the ride. He enjoyed the drunken singing at the end, but when the boat pulled into the final dock and everyone clamored out, he couldn’t help but feel a little disenchanted. And while everyone swarmed into the gift shop of pirate apparel, trying on hats and waving plastic swords, Loki made his way lethargically to a shady corner out of sight of the little boy who was searching for them. When Fandral caught up with him, Loki grabbed him by the arm and tugged him away from the pirate displays. “It’s all a facade! None of it is real. Did you know that? I feel like that mouse is trying to make fools of us. Is this or is this not a kingdom?” Everywhere he looked the words Magic Kingdom covered the walls and merchandise. But Loki saw nothing resembling a real kingdom, aside from the castle. And magic? The only magical thing he could see was himself. Once they were off of the ride, Fandral briefly lost sight of his friend and felt himself getting swept up with the crowd as they piled into the gift shop. That wasn’t where he wanted to go though and flashing the boy’s mother yet another smile, he turned and went the opposite direction. Loki hadn’t gone far at least, and when he felt his cooler hand on his arm, he paused and let him lead him away. “I didn’t realise that, no,” he admitted. It was a half-truth, having noted that the pirates throughout the ride had seemed too rigid and expressionless to be alive. It was when Loki’s dagger had gone into the head of the one that he realized they were all androids. Fandral pulled his arm from the other man’s grip and draped it around his shoulders again, pulling him against his side briefly in a bit of a hug. “I believe it’s a kingdom of sorts, but certainly not what we are used to. It seems to bring the humans a lot of joy though, so it can’t be that bad, even if it is all a grand facade. I think, perhaps, they know that. Or at least the adult humans do.” He chuckled softly and then planted a playful kiss to Loki’s hair, grinning. “Come. There is so much more to do! Even if it is a kingdom of illusions, we should attempt to enjoy ourselves while we are here, yes?” Fandral’s arm around his shoulders gave Loki an unexpected feeling of security. Quiet assurance that he wasn’t going mad. He breathed a sigh of relief. And while he didn’t wrap his arm around Fandral in kind, he did relax his shoulders and lean into him. Loki didn’t acknowledge the kiss, but he didn’t dismiss it either. Fandral’s growing affection since his arrival in Derleth hadn’t gone unnoticed. Loki hadn’t decided yet how he wanted to proceed. Being around Fandral reminded him of home. Of Asgard. Of the way things used to be. And that filled some of the longing Loki had been secretly hiding. But he knew Fandral all too well. Fandral’s heart was always open. Always at risk of being broken. And Loki was the opposite. He was closed off emotionally. Even moments of intimacy were shrouded by a barrier. And while he didn’t think there was anything to worry about for the time being — they were simply two lost souls who were trying to find themselves after death — Loki did worry. He didn’t want to be the cause of broken hearts. Especially not to the one person who knew him best. And yet he couldn’t deny that he wanted something from his brother’s old friend. From one of his warriors-in-arms. From the man who truly seemed glad to be around him and who didn’t judge him too harshly. But this was no time to think about such things. Fandral was correct. This may not have been a kingdom of Loki’s understanding, but it wasn’t without its merits. Surely there was something to learn from this realm. Perhaps even something that might one day assist him in ruling the real Midgard. “You’re right. We ought to enjoy it while we can.” Loki turned his face to Fandral and grinned. That mischievous desire for control temporarily replaced with honest playfulness. And a twinge of childish enthusiasm. “Let’s go back and get another Dole Whip. And this time I’ll drink it more slowly.” |