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coldsongWhen Steve arrives at the cottage on the edge of the Nexus, three out of four of Loki’s kids are tugging at the water hose on the east side of the building, trying to yank it into place to connect with what appears to be an impromptu inflatable water park. There’s a six-foot inflatable dinosaur, a rainbow arch, and a unicorn kiddie pool with a little slide attached. He doesn’t think a single hose is going to be able to power all three of those, and then he wonders whether the kids are even supposed to have all of those things, and then he realizes they’re Asgardian and gets concerned they might actually be able to pull the hose out of the wall, and the plumbing with it, and takes a couple running steps closer. “Hey, uh--you guys, maybe don’t pull so hard on that…”
He gets a trio of wide-eyed stares in return, because while he knows well enough who they are, they haven’t met him yet. “I think you’re gonna need a longer hose.” He tells them. “Where’s your dad?”
Fortunately, the wards have already alerted Loki to his presence, and he emerges from the house with a squirmy fourth child--Eindrid, who needed help to put on a swimsuit--in his arms. Once placed on the ground, the toddler is off like a shot, making for the dinosaur.
“They couldn’t agree on just one,” Loki sighs, and gestures at the hose with a wave of long fingers and a flash of dark-painted nails. It splits off into three extensions, and Una cheers, then demands loudly for Agnarr to hook up the unicorn pool first.
“Am I spoiling them? I am, aren’t I? I have no perspective on these things.”
“You’re asking the wrong guy,” Steve laughs. “I grew up in the Depression. Spoiling to me was a side of cheese toast with my ketchup soup.”
“Well, that sounds horrid. Nevermind, I don’t want any perspective, after all.” Loki smirks and steps down off the porch, coming closer to greet his guest. “You look well enough, all things considered. Healing up all right?”
“Enh. I can walk and I can paint. What else do I need?” Steve answers, and knows he’s unconvincing.
“You don’t want my genuine answer for that.” Loki smirks at him. “But in lieu of it, I could get you a glass of lemonade.”
“No thanks. I have a feeling if I stay too long, I’ll end up soaked one way or another.” The kids are cute, but they’re a little overwhelming, and while Steve is more comfortable with Loki now than he was a year ago, he’s not sure he’s quite ready to sit on the porch with cold drinks and chat about the good old days.
“I just...uh, Bucky asked me to bring you something.” He’s got a paper shopping bag in one hand, and he holds it up for Loki.
“Really?” The godling is pleasantly surprised. The terms they all parted on were a bit ambiguous. “I told him to call on me if he needed anything, but I think I rather expected never to hear from him again.”
“No, no.” Steve shakes his head. “He’s not like that. He just doesn’t know what to do with...everything that’s happened. Or what some of it might mean.”
For the first time since he’s known him, Loki looks awkward, to Steve’s eyes, and almost a little shy. Maybe it’s a little perverse of him, maybe he enjoys it a little too much because he is, himself, adjusting to being small and weak once again, but he smirks at him and shakes the bag a little to prompt him to take it.
“Go on. And you better wear it before I leave, so I can take a pic for him.”
Wear it? Now there’s a hint of trepidation as Loki opens the bag. And then he laughs, half incredulous, half pleased, as he withdraws a t-shirt that reads: They call me GRANDPA because PARTNER IN CRIME makes me sound like a BAD INFLUENCE.
“Your friend,” Loki says, “is a smartass, and I think I like it.”
“You say that now, but when you know him better, you’ll realize he’s not as funny as he thinks he is.” Steve grins and takes back the empty paper bag.
Loki just smiles, shakes the shirt out smooth, and transfers it onto his body with a glimmer of seidr. “I’ll look forward to that,” he says. “I wish I had a gift to send back with you. Next time we make brownies, I’ll send some with you.”
“You get how weird that is, right?” Steve gets out his PINpoint and aims the lens at Loki, who flicks his braids back over his shoulders and poses without shame.
“It’s all weird,” he agrees. “We’re all mad here. I have children, Rogers. I have four of them, and they’ve set up a unicorn pool in my yard, and we’re getting a pony delivered tomorrow, and I’m wearing a shirt that someone who might be my descendant has sent me via a former enemy. This is nothing like I ever expected my life to be like.”
There’s a series of clicks as Steve takes pictures. One of them catches the inflatable dinosaur in the background, now spraying water into the air and making its own natural mini-rainbow.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I hear you on that. I expected...I expected to look like this, but the stuff around me...I never could have imagined any of it, good or bad.”
“I’m aware you’re not asking my advice,” Loki says. “But I’ll offer it anyway: Ignore the bad. Take the good, and run.”
Steve holds up the last picture to show him, lips quirked into a blend of uncertainty and amusement. “Advice is cheap,” he says. “You make sure you have some brownies for me, too, next time you make them, got it?”
The god of mischief chuckles softly and shrugs. “If you insist. With or without walnuts?”
“Surprise me,” says Steve, and immediately realizes he’ll regret it later.
He gets a trio of wide-eyed stares in return, because while he knows well enough who they are, they haven’t met him yet. “I think you’re gonna need a longer hose.” He tells them. “Where’s your dad?”
Fortunately, the wards have already alerted Loki to his presence, and he emerges from the house with a squirmy fourth child--Eindrid, who needed help to put on a swimsuit--in his arms. Once placed on the ground, the toddler is off like a shot, making for the dinosaur.
“They couldn’t agree on just one,” Loki sighs, and gestures at the hose with a wave of long fingers and a flash of dark-painted nails. It splits off into three extensions, and Una cheers, then demands loudly for Agnarr to hook up the unicorn pool first.
“Am I spoiling them? I am, aren’t I? I have no perspective on these things.”
“You’re asking the wrong guy,” Steve laughs. “I grew up in the Depression. Spoiling to me was a side of cheese toast with my ketchup soup.”
“Well, that sounds horrid. Nevermind, I don’t want any perspective, after all.” Loki smirks and steps down off the porch, coming closer to greet his guest. “You look well enough, all things considered. Healing up all right?”
“Enh. I can walk and I can paint. What else do I need?” Steve answers, and knows he’s unconvincing.
“You don’t want my genuine answer for that.” Loki smirks at him. “But in lieu of it, I could get you a glass of lemonade.”
“No thanks. I have a feeling if I stay too long, I’ll end up soaked one way or another.” The kids are cute, but they’re a little overwhelming, and while Steve is more comfortable with Loki now than he was a year ago, he’s not sure he’s quite ready to sit on the porch with cold drinks and chat about the good old days.
“I just...uh, Bucky asked me to bring you something.” He’s got a paper shopping bag in one hand, and he holds it up for Loki.
“Really?” The godling is pleasantly surprised. The terms they all parted on were a bit ambiguous. “I told him to call on me if he needed anything, but I think I rather expected never to hear from him again.”
“No, no.” Steve shakes his head. “He’s not like that. He just doesn’t know what to do with...everything that’s happened. Or what some of it might mean.”
For the first time since he’s known him, Loki looks awkward, to Steve’s eyes, and almost a little shy. Maybe it’s a little perverse of him, maybe he enjoys it a little too much because he is, himself, adjusting to being small and weak once again, but he smirks at him and shakes the bag a little to prompt him to take it.
“Go on. And you better wear it before I leave, so I can take a pic for him.”
Wear it? Now there’s a hint of trepidation as Loki opens the bag. And then he laughs, half incredulous, half pleased, as he withdraws a t-shirt that reads: They call me GRANDPA because PARTNER IN CRIME makes me sound like a BAD INFLUENCE.
“Your friend,” Loki says, “is a smartass, and I think I like it.”
“You say that now, but when you know him better, you’ll realize he’s not as funny as he thinks he is.” Steve grins and takes back the empty paper bag.
Loki just smiles, shakes the shirt out smooth, and transfers it onto his body with a glimmer of seidr. “I’ll look forward to that,” he says. “I wish I had a gift to send back with you. Next time we make brownies, I’ll send some with you.”
“You get how weird that is, right?” Steve gets out his PINpoint and aims the lens at Loki, who flicks his braids back over his shoulders and poses without shame.
“It’s all weird,” he agrees. “We’re all mad here. I have children, Rogers. I have four of them, and they’ve set up a unicorn pool in my yard, and we’re getting a pony delivered tomorrow, and I’m wearing a shirt that someone who might be my descendant has sent me via a former enemy. This is nothing like I ever expected my life to be like.”
There’s a series of clicks as Steve takes pictures. One of them catches the inflatable dinosaur in the background, now spraying water into the air and making its own natural mini-rainbow.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I hear you on that. I expected...I expected to look like this, but the stuff around me...I never could have imagined any of it, good or bad.”
“I’m aware you’re not asking my advice,” Loki says. “But I’ll offer it anyway: Ignore the bad. Take the good, and run.”
Steve holds up the last picture to show him, lips quirked into a blend of uncertainty and amusement. “Advice is cheap,” he says. “You make sure you have some brownies for me, too, next time you make them, got it?”
The god of mischief chuckles softly and shrugs. “If you insist. With or without walnuts?”
“Surprise me,” says Steve, and immediately realizes he’ll regret it later.