"If they were so personal a keepsake, then they would treasure them by using them, brother," Loki rationalised, grinning ear to ear. He was always able to persuade Thor of his point of view, back in the day. Silver tongue, indeed.
Still, he had to tread a line between the both of them. Keep her happy and confident, keep his brother in his favour. That was the way of his life now, a delicate balance between being good and being bad. "I cannot make a door appear, no," he chuckled and sat back down at the table to finish his breakfast. "There's nobody here who possess such strong magic, I do believe. Not alone, anyway..." he theorised.
"Thor, the girl has done nothing but raid a vault which belongs to nobody. We need mortal currency for supplies when a door does open, don't we? There aren't enough things on the island to keep everyone clothed, fed and happy. It's charitable work."