Sigrid nods eagerly at Harley. Of course she's a safe person to talk to! Loki has reassured the kids of that time and again--they can talk to Harley or Uncle Thor for big problems, and Mrs. Hedgeworthy (who is pretty trustworthy herself) will always help them get to them if they ask.
Loki leans into the kiss but gives a sputter of laughter at the suggestion of an elf costume. "Well, I quite liked yours, but I'm not sure it's my size," he says. And she can take that at face value; he would wear the exact same cut and style of costume willingly, in male or female form, but he's a fair bit taller.
The children fish little wrapped gifts from their stockings, and oranges, and bags of glazed nuts and raisins. Their miniature gifts seem to consist of crayons and pencils, little scented lotions and lip gloss, and a couple palm-sized windup toys made of beautifully painted tin.
Harley's is heavier. She'll find crayons in hers, as well, and a holiday coloring book, but there's also chocolates filled with raspberry liqueur, a chocolate orange, and a box of dense, silver-dollar-sized little cakes wrapped in sweet-scented leaves, with words in an unfamiliar language carved into the lid of the box. "Marzipan from Alfheim," Loki says. "I'd go a bit slow with those, and don't share with anyone human; they've been known to induce euphoria in adult Asgardians so they're rather strong."
There's also a henna self-tattoo kit, nuts and oranges like the children have, and a heavy serpent arm-cuff. "No magic in that one, but it's an antique. I thought it was charming," Loki tells her.
And last, at the toe of the stocking, wrapped carefully in a silk handkerchief, is a peculiar little toy, of the 'so ugly it's cute' variety. "I don't even know," Loki explains. "She looked lonely."
He's not without a sense of whimsy, after all. "There's something else for you as well," he murmurs close to her ear, "but it will have to wait until the children have gone to bed."
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dancing_serpent
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Date: 2021-02-07 06:54 pm (UTC)Loki leans into the kiss but gives a sputter of laughter at the suggestion of an elf costume. "Well, I quite liked yours, but I'm not sure it's my size," he says. And she can take that at face value; he would wear the exact same cut and style of costume willingly, in male or female form, but he's a fair bit taller.
The children fish little wrapped gifts from their stockings, and oranges, and bags of glazed nuts and raisins. Their miniature gifts seem to consist of crayons and pencils, little scented lotions and lip gloss, and a couple palm-sized windup toys made of beautifully painted tin.
Harley's is heavier. She'll find crayons in hers, as well, and a holiday coloring book, but there's also chocolates filled with raspberry liqueur, a chocolate orange, and a box of dense, silver-dollar-sized little cakes wrapped in sweet-scented leaves, with words in an unfamiliar language carved into the lid of the box. "Marzipan from Alfheim," Loki says. "I'd go a bit slow with those, and don't share with anyone human; they've been known to induce euphoria in adult Asgardians so they're rather strong."
There's also a henna self-tattoo kit, nuts and oranges like the children have, and a heavy serpent arm-cuff. "No magic in that one, but it's an antique. I thought it was charming," Loki tells her.
And last, at the toe of the stocking, wrapped carefully in a silk handkerchief, is a peculiar little toy, of the 'so ugly it's cute' variety. "I don't even know," Loki explains. "She looked lonely."
He's not without a sense of whimsy, after all. "There's something else for you as well," he murmurs close to her ear, "but it will have to wait until the children have gone to bed."