because Loki needs more kids (@mayberaven)

[coldsong]

Midwinter is well past; the equinox is a few weeks hence. Already, preparations for Spring are underway, with Loki and the children making a point of buying plants, planning the garden, and tending to a very pregnant reindeer in the stables. It's still chilly, though, and this morning there was a thin layer of ice over the meadow. Loki sees the children off to their various schools before venturing into the cold alone, in Jotun form, to savor the last sting of the season.

By the ocean, Naglfar is locked in ice, which will do it no harm, but Loki stands on the shore watching it. The wind whistles about the bony mast, and the ice creaks, but no gulls cry. They've gone further inland for warmth. At the moment, the beach is his alone.

Or is it?

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[mayberaven]

It wasn't the first time Fjord had been sent under to look for salvage. Whenever a storm sank a vessel, especially merchant ships, Master Grankton wasted no time in corralling the strongest swimmers amongst the children, sending them down to pick the wreckage clean. It was dangerous work to be sure depending on where the ships sank, how deep they had to go, how the tides were turning that day. But it was familiar work, and it was something he could do effectively alone which meant it was one of his favorite chores.

And it also meant that he was keenly aware that after squirming free of a broken hull, kicking towards the surface, that he noticed the sudden deep chill of the water around him near-instantly. Shocking enough that it had him barely biting back the urge to gasp as he floundered his way up. Unaware he had an audience as he breached the water's surface when his entire attention was caught by the different beach he was now treading water near. No wagon, no Master Grankton waiting impatiently, no other orphans either bringing up their hauls or going back for more. And it was cold. Clutching his net bag, the half-orc boy wasted no time in swimming for shore, knowing that no matter how cold the open air felt, it would be better to get out of the water quick as he could and find somewhere to get dry.

[coldsong]

When the little head surfaces in the water nearby, Loki's first thought is that it might be a sea lion. That would be unusual and welcome, and he'd have to bring Agnarr back later to see if they can spot it again. It's not until he hears the stranger catch his breath above water that he realizes it is a person, and possibly a very young one.

Years ago, a version of Sif came up out of the water like this and very nearly froze to death before he found her. Once again, the gods of the sea and the cold have sent him a questionable gift. He hastens to retrieve it before it passes out from hypothermia.

The water currents are in Fjord's favor, luckily, and he's almost to the beach anyway, but because he is clearly a child, and there are broken bits of ice everywhere, Loki splashes into the sea to help. He's tall enough that he can wade rather than swim, and he reaches out to assist when he gets close. "Where the hell did you come from? This is one of the worst spots to go swimming I can think of..."

[mayberaven]

A child to be sure, but a bit oddly proportioned- large for his age, but not by much. Almost like the build of a Jotun child, where one would expect them to grow tall and broad, beyond what was expected of another, though that same similarity meant that he seemed a bit small for what he should be. It was hard to say what about him said as much, but the air was there. Not that Fjord was worried about that as he was floundering to get his feet under him once he was close enough to the shoreline, shaking visibly by the time the stranger was splashing closer.

Reflexes slowed by the cold or hed've ducked the assistance, an uncertain, wary gaze skipping Loki's way.

"W- where-?"

[coldsong]

"This ocean has no name that I know of, but you're in the Nexus. Let me get you out of the water before the sea goddess decides she likes you."

He's not in the habit of manhandling children, even large ones, but the alternative seems likely to end in injury for the boy, so Loki doesn't hesitate to thread his arm through his and tug him quickly from the water.

When Sif appeared here, the temperatures were easily sub-zero. This is not quite so dire, but the stranger isn't Asgardian, either, so Loki takes it upon himself to pull a blanket out of a pocket dimension and fling it around his shoulders, against the wind. "I take it you're lost. There's a portal in the--what is that you're carrying?"

He wasn't expecting the net bag. There may or may not be salvage under the ocean here.

[mayberaven]

That wasn't familiar, and the blank look likely said as much even without words. Mouth drawing to an uncertain frown around his tusks as the child glances back towards the sea at the idea of some underwater deity staking a claim like that. As if anyone would want him.

He didn't resist the tug for now though, and certainly didn't resist the drape of the blanket, drawing the edges together around himself. He definitely wasn't dressed for the weather in a white, threadbare tunic and pants meant for a larger person, hem tattered to somewhere mid-calf and no sign of shoes. Not surprising if he'd been swimming but with no sign of any waiting on the beach he clearly hadn't started his underwater expedition here.

"S-salvage-" He explained, clutching the bag a bit closer in trembling fingers. There was a dull clunk of metal, and Loki would be able to see the dull flash of what was undoubtedly pewter through the webbing of the net.

[coldsong]

It doesn't really matter to Loki what species the child is. There are so many kinds in the Nexus, unless someone's magical energies ruffle his, Loki thinks little of it. He does, now, notice the tusks, though, and wonders idly. Not a Jotun child, but clearly not Aesir or human, either. Not fully, anyway.

"...you were diving for metal. How old are you? You know what, never mind, I suppose it's not my business." He sighs and holds up a hand as if to forestall an argument. "I don't want your things. I question the wisdom of you risking your life for them, that's all. You can keep them."

"My name is Loki. We should probably get you somewhere warmer."

[mayberaven]

Fjord wasn't sure what to make of the stranger. It was strange for anyone to pay attention to one of the Driftwood kids, let alone him. He wasn't harassing him, wasn't trying to steal from him- not that the salvage was worth much he knew that.

"S'not mine anyways-" The chill was enough to make him slur a bit, but at least he seemed able to keep his feet, staying huddled under the blanket as they were picking their way from the water. "W-where's Master Grankton?"

He was going to be in so much trouble. He'd seen what had happened to one of the other children when they'd wandered off once. And that had been one of the generally liked kids. There was no way Grankton would believe Fjord about this.

[coldsong]

"Possession is nine-tenths of the law," he says archly. "You're holding them."

He shrugs then, and begins making his way up the beach, ushering the child along with him, because he's not sure yet whether he can be trusted not to hop back into the water. "I don't know anyone by that name. You're a long way from wherever you come from. There's a gateway in the ocean here that sometimes opens from one world to another."

"If I tell you it's magic, does that make more sense?"

[mayberaven]

The little half-orc pauses at that idea, glancing down at the bag in his hand as if the concept had never really occurred to him. And to be honest it hadn't. Grankton had been quite clear that anything the kids had? Well it was his in the end. And none of them really were in a position to argue were they?

At least he doesn't seem to be inclined towards diving back into the freezing ocean, following away for the moment as he listened to what he was being told, brow drawing uncertainly. Did he believe the man? But then if not, how else could he have gotten here? He'd gone into the water in one place, and come out somewhere entirely unfamiliar.

Nodding slowly at the question though, because well... he wasn't entirely familiar with the specifics of magic, but he'd heard plenty of wild stories about powerful wizards and sorcerers being to travel impossible places through portals and gateways. And plenty of adventurer's tales talked about ancient abandoned gateways to strange places like the Feywild or Ethereal plane. "Magic... makes sense, yes sir."

[coldsong]

"All right, that's good. It's a bit of an oversimplification because there are so many types of magic, but it's a place to start from."

He glances back at him, adding: "You don't have to tell me your name if you're still wary of me, but I'd like to have something to call you, so you have approximately two minutes before I just make something up."

"I'm going to take you to my cottage, since it's close, and get you a pair of shoes before you start losing toes. It might be possible to find your way home from here, but I don't think going back through the ocean portal is wise. At least not until the thaw."

[mayberaven]

That made sense, Fjord nodding in agreement. Even a layman knew that there were different schools and disciplines of magic, even if they couldn't name a single one. And portals and gateways were complicated even beyond the basics surely?

Fjord couldn't help the way that the idea of making up some name had every other nickname he'd had flick through his head, expression clouding slightly at the thought of it.

Animal, brute, savage, beast, monster-

"Fjord," He mumbled finally, yellow gaze skimming over their surroundings, in a futile search for something, anything familiar to anchor himself. Giving out his name wasn't ideal, but he was wary of what the man might decide made a good nickname- even well-meaning sorts were sometimes unknowingly awful. "I'm Fjord."

The mention of what the stranger was thinking made sense. Getting out of the cold, getting dry, getting shoes, since apparently his shoddy boots were still back on the beach he'd started on and hadn't come with him. But there was an uncertainty too, because what would he want for the help? The young half-orc couldn't help the faint slow of his steps, the unspoken question undoubtedly clear in the uncertain, wary cast of his expression.

[coldsong]

Loki wouldn't deliberately name him something cruel. He's not gratuitously nasty to children, for one thing. But Fjord can't know that. Loki nods to him in acknowledgement of the name, a flicker of something thoughtful and nostalgic in his eyes for a moment. "Well met, Fjord. Funny, that's what we used to call an ocean inlet where I come from. Usually an icy, rocky, cold one. I suppose you must live close to the sea in your world?"

Ah. He can see that hesitation, and he has enough experience interacting with street kids (and older denizens of harsh places) that he recognizes it for what it is. "-oh. I'm not--erm."

I'm not a creep, I promise. "Look, I have a son who's probably about your age. Adopted. Long story. I can be a nasty piece of work to adults but I'm not going to do anything untoward to a kid."

[mayberaven]

Fjord nodded in confirmation, burrowing a bit more into the blanket at a particularly cutting bit of wind. "In Port Damali... it doesn't get this cold there though. Not too often anyways..."

And Grankton was a terrible person in a lot of ways, but tended to point the children towards other money-making schemes when the weather turned this chilled. Mostly because he didn't want to deal with illnesses making his little labor force less effective, but it worked in their favor so no one was about to comment or complain.

The half-orc wasn't sure what he'd been looking for in that moment of uncertainty. But the almost awkward way the other seemed to cast about for an explanation, and what followed, did seem to ease his concerns at least a bit. Especially the bit about his son being adopted. But it sounded honest enough that he didn't think that the man was harboring any untoward ideas. "...alright. I... you never told me your name though, sir."

Maybe he'd feel a bit better having that. As unmoored as he felt right now, knowing anything for certain would surely be some small reassurance, and he'd take what he could get.

[coldsong]

"I'm from a place called Asgard. Well...actually, I was born in Jotunheim, but--that won't make a difference to you anyway. Not unless you have Frost Giants in your world."

He pats his shoulder lightly through the blanket. "I did, actually, but you were probably shivering too hard to hear it. My name is Loki. Odinson. Sometimes known as the god of mischief, if that means anything to you, but my point about being decent to children still stands. Children are brilliant at mischief, that's why I like them."

Another oversimplification, but no one wants to hear about his providence when they're half frozen in a strange land. As they near the cottage, Fjord may notice the small stable, the ground marked out in yellow yarn for the upcoming garden, and some children's playground equipment covered in canvas to protect it from the ice. Loki opens the door for him, and the blast of warm air from within is accompanied by the scent of the pancakes he cooked before leaving. Between the smell and the heat, it's probably hard to resist.

[mayberaven]

Asgard, Jotunheim? Not familiar to him, but he perked slightly at the mention of Frost Giants.

"Never saw one in person but there are Frost Giants..." But he'd always heard that they were huge- maybe his unexpected savior was some sort of crossbreed? But Fjord wouldn't comment as much- knew how it so often nettled him to be commented on for being different than 'normal' for what he was.

It was the next part that caught his attention more, the boy squinting thoughtfully at Loki as if uncertain if he should believe such an outlandish claim. Not a deity he was familiar with, which wasn't terribly surprising. A god of mischief definitely wouldn't be on the Empire's approved deities list. But Fjord's pointed ears darkened slightly at the idea that he'd missed the introduction entirely, nodding. "I can't say I'm familiar, Master Odinson..."

Which was fine. He wasn't stupid for not knowing a god in what he'd been told was a completely different world. That was entirely reasonable. Even if the home they were approaching didn't quite match what a person might think when they thought of where a god would dwell. But that soothed Fjord somewhat. If the place was grand and sweeping he'd surely stand out all the more. At least someplace smaller and homey he might not stick out like as bad a sore thumb.

And while he and the other orphans weren't starved- they couldn't work if they were fainting from hunger after all- it often was some cheap slop from a stewpot. So the smell of pancakes was definitely a draw all on it's own, especially with the heat of the cottage. Fjord stepped in, unable to help but curiously glance around the place as he did.

[coldsong]

"Oh? But you're not afraid of them?" That's probably a good thing, but he's a little surprised. Then again, Frost Giants in his universe might be different from what Loki's familiar with. "Physically I'm not the most typical example. I'm a shapeshifter and I can be a little taller, but even at that rate I'm a runt, and far less craggy and pointy than most Jotnar. Long story."

There's a hint of underlying discomfort there. His trauma is healing, but it's still there. It's a lot easier to be casual about his heritage among people who have no frame of reference for it, or who have more innate sympathy with the Frost Giants than with the Aesir.

"You can just call me Loki if you like. Or Master Loki, if you're more comfortable with formality. I've answered to worse things."

The cottage is a little bigger on the inside than it looks. There are actually three floors, but the main floor is where Loki and the three smallest children sleep, and it has the living room, kitchen, and a half-bath. The kitchen is where they've entered, and it's big enough for three people to move about it, lit by warm yellow lamps. There are a lot of childish drawings tacked onto the refrigerator, and what looks like a clockwork cat on the floor. Loki picks it up gently and sets it on the table lest it get stepped on.

If Fjord peers through into the next room, he may see some scattered toys, as well as the gleam of embers in the fireplace.

"Here," Loki says. "Sit on one of the wooden chairs, I'd rather not get the sofa wet. I'll use magic to dry your clothes out."

[mayberaven]

"Haven't heard much about them to be honest. Hard to be afraid of someone if you're like to never run across them and all," He shrugged lightly at that, though something considering flickered across his expression as Loki was continuing, gaze turning to him again before skittering back away. Both because of the idea of shapeshifting, and well... "I'm a runt too. Pretty sorry excuse for a half-orc."

The comment was casual- a thing he'd heard so often in his life that he barely registered such a relatively mild thing, didn't even really notice himself saying it.

He'd never been in an actual home before, at least that he can recall. Seen glimpses through windows in passing, heard soft chatter of families, children laughing, but it was hardly the same as standing in the kitchen of one, stepping gingerly past the entryway as if nervous that somehow he'd spoil the place by his presence. Loki's instructions were sensible with how he was still dripping saltwater under the blanket, and he padded quietly to one of the indicated chairs to sit, doing his best to be still rather than squirm uncertainly like he somewhat wanted to.

[coldsong]

Loki looks thoughtful as well, struck by that response. "Well, we're in the same boat, then. I've heard of orcs and half-orcs but never met any."

How like the Nexus, to bring him someone with parallels to his own background! He moves to put on the kettle, intending to make hot tea, then stands by Fjord's chair and puts a hand lightly on his shoulder. "This is going to be very cold for a moment which is why I waited until coming indoors. Just trust me for about ten seconds."

Evaporating the chilly water is the quickest and most efficient way to dry him out. A shimmer of green and gold rushes over him, and it feels like icy wind blowing across his skin, but true to Loki's word, it passes quickly. Then, both the blanket and the clothing beneath it are perfectly dry, and the heat of the room around them can start to take hold.

[mayberaven]

That answer seemed to soothe the half-orc somewhat. Not a conscious thing yet, but there was a comfort to be had in thinking that someone might understand where he was coming from even if it was just the simple fact that they both knew little and less about each other. It was a start at least.

And he wasn't used to contact. Not beyond a light shove to get him moving, or a grab to his arm or shoulder to direct him when someone was impatient at the lightest. Not a thing that was just because of the other children's dislike of him either- none of them tended to seek that sort of thing out beyond some of the youngest, but long enough in Driftwood taught most children to shy away from touch. Fjord didn't flinch or start, mostly from plenty of practice against the response, but Loki would certainly feel the way the boy stilled utterly under his hand as if bracing in anticipation.

He couldn't stop the gasp wrenched from him at the icy chill skating against skin, shuddering visibly as his grasp on the blanket tightened as if in defiance of the cold, a soft muttered curse under his breath. But it worked, and he seemed to ease somewhat as the cold receded and the warmth was able to start sinking in properly, relaxing slightly. "Gods... you weren't kidding when you said it was gonna be cold-"

[coldsong]

The boy hasn't said that he's an orphan, but everything Loki has already learned about his situation and his body language says he's either without family, or at the mercy of a truly awful family. He keeps his touch light, unwilling to scare him, but it's easier to cast this sort of spell with a little contact.

The reaction to the cold prompts a little laugh, amusement tinged with sympathy. "Magic can do amazing things, but there are always consequences, and more often than not, there's a backlash."

"Let me see if a pair of my son's shoes will fit you. If not, I can resize one of mine, I think." Fjord might be in between him and Agnarr in sizes. "And then once the tea is ready I'll get you something to eat and we'll figure out what to do with you."

Retreating toward the hall to fetch things, he calls over his shoulder, "Don't touch the stovetop, you'll burn yourself." Possibly an unnecessary warning, but he's not sure how familiar he is with an electronic range.

[mayberaven]

It wasn't the sort of thing he thought he should advertise, to be honest. Most people in Damali knew which children belonged to Driftwood, so there was no need there, but in a new place it just seemed like another way to paint a target on his back. Better to let people think that there was someone that would be concerned should he go missing for too long.

Not that Loki had done anything concerning. That he claimed to be a god might be worrisome- there were tales of gods living amongst men to be sure, but most making such claims were a bit... different in the head. Not that it automatically made them dangerous to be sure, but it was a thing to be wary of until he had some confirmation one way or the other. To say nothing of not wanting to alienate his current only ally in this new place.

"I've... heard as much yes. Lots of stories about how magic can turn on a person, especially fae magics." Fjord agreed with a small smile of his own, already feeling miles better for being warm and dry. He didn't comment on the idea of shoes being troublesome to fit- he was pretty sure that they'd have to stuff a pair of bigger shoes with rags to get something that worked for him if he was of a similar age to Loki's son. But he nodded all the same, perking slightly at the mention of being fed after.

And the warning was fairly unnecessary- Fjord had no experience with electronic anything, but one didn't set a kettle for tea if the surface wasn't going to get hot, and given the demonstration of magic he'd just had, the boy assumed that the unfamiliar looking stove was powered by magic as well somehow. He wasn't about to go touching things in an unfamiliar home, but he did slip from the chair to move around the room, studying familiar and unfamiliar things alike.

[coldsong]

The overall impression Loki is getting is of a child that's reasonably practical and wary for his age. You don't see that with every street kid, even though they live a harder life than most. He's curious, but questions, he assumes, will only make the boy warier. Letting him recover will likely loosen his lips more naturally.

"Fae are inherently tricky," he agrees. "Their logic doesn't match that of most other species."

He's gone for only a couple minutes, returning with a hooded sweatshirt of his own, a pair of socks, and a pair of brown trekking boots. He sets the latter items by the chair, draping the shirt over the back. "The socks will certainly fit. We'll have to see about the shoes."

[mayberaven]

It really is the best way to handle him, to be fair. Questions back home tended to mean problems, either someone wanting something from him, or meaning him trouble in some way. No one was curious about a runty half-orc without some reason after all. That Loki hadn't started prying or peppering him with questions beyond the obviously necessary was helping the boy to not immediately peg him as someone to keep at distance, even though he was hardly warming up in any quick manner. But the distance was more an uncertain and polite thing rather than anything born of overt concern or wariness at the moment.

He glanced up at the man's entry back into the kitchen, a bit surprised at how nice the clothing Loki had dug up for him looked. Likely not surprising, as everything he was wearing now was fairly home-spun and rough-hewn in appearance even before simply being worn with age. Hand-me-downs to be sure, and from the laces and stitching, the fabrics used, definitely from someplace not as industrially developed.

"I saw one once," He commented, as he came back to sit in the chair, picking up the socks to slip on, before reaching for one of the boots, fingers rubbing over the grommets and laces consideringly. "A fairy I mean. Not close up or anything- on a docked merchant ship. Don't know if she was a part of the crew or something but she was up sittin' on one of the masts, playing some kind of flute."

[coldsong]

The boots are a more modern Midgardian style, not the Aesir leatherwork Loki usually favors. Agnarr likes to have some arch support. They're easily replaced, though, should Fjord fit them.

"I've seen a few here," Loki says, and goes to the refrigerator. "Of various types. Some are very charming and delicate. Others will as soon slit your throat as look at you. I suppose that's true of all people."

He pulls out a couple tupperware containers and starts to set up a plate. "We've got leftover pancakes and sausage, and some mandarin oranges. I hope none of that's disagreeable?" He's guessing Fjord is used to eating whatever he's given, but it's polite to ask.

[mayberaven]

"Makes sense." Both that faeries could come in all types, and that a place where a potential god made his home, with a weird otherworldly portal in the ocean might draw their kind.

He hadn't known what the refrigerator was- assumed it was some sort of cabinet from the handles, but wary of being caught snooping hadn't looked. The light inside certainly made him think of more magic of some sort, but his attention was definitely more captured by the food on offer. "That... all sounds fine, sir."

He didn't know what mandarin oranges were, but knew what oranges were in general. Some local type perhaps. Whatever the case, he couldn't help the tinge of darker green along pointed ears as he was realizing that even after loosening them up, the boots were too small. Huffing a soft, embarrassed little sound he set them aside. "Sorry the ah... the boots don't fit."

[coldsong]

Loki is quick to get out the pancakes and sausage, putting them in the microwave to heat. Mandarin oranges turn out to be small, whole fruits taken from the counter and set in front of him, with a cup of hot tea.

"No?" He doesn't seem concerned by the boots not fitting. "Agnarr's build is a bit more delicate, I suppose. You need them longer, broader, or both? I don't mind buying you a pair of shoes later, honestly, but I don't think letting you walk around barefoot in the interim is a good idea. It's still cold out."

[mayberaven]

The half-orc watched as his host was setting up the meal, curious gaze on the microwave, especially as the plate of food was placed inside, buttons pressed.

"What... what's that?" He asked as he gingerly accepted the orange and the tea, the mug cupped between both hands against the table, letting the heat warm his hands for the moment.

As for the boots... he was a bit surprised at the idea of Loki being willing to just out and out buy him a pair. It was one thing to offer a spare pair, but that... it was strange, but it was kind at the same time. Fjord wasn't sure what to do with that. "A... bit of both."

[coldsong]

"What?" He's not sure what he's being asked about for a moment, finally glancing over his shoulder at the microwave. "Oh! It's a miniature oven. It works on a type of energy that heats food more quickly than just fire or gas. Useful thing, unless you overheat something in it until it pops."

Which is, of course, something the children have done repeatedly.

"Well, I'll see if I can resize them while you eat. I've always found that sort of magic tedious, but it's the most expedient method right now."

The microwave makes a long beep, and he goes to fetch the contents, setting them next to Fjord, alongside syrup and butter. "The plate will be hot, so don't burn yourself."

That done, he sits on the chair across from him and picks up the boots, looking them over.

[mayberaven]

"Gas?" His brow furrowed faintly at that, but he could surely find out more about that later. It sounded like that wasn't how the thing worked anyways, the mention of other energy just confirming 'magic' in his mind. And if Loki was a god as he claimed, surely powering a miniature oven like that with magic would be a trivial thing...

He was honestly a little torn- sheer habit meant that he should focus on his food, on eating what he could before someone decided to interrupt him to harass him, or cut mealtime short just because there was something more to be done. And there was enough of that in his posture- he clearly had some table manners, but the body language on display was a defensive sort of slouch more than anything even if he wasn't entirely aware he was doing it. The only shift from the duck of his head, definitely meant to keep from making eye contact with potential tablemates, being the way yellow eyes lifted to sneak glances at Loki. Both curious about the man himself and desperately curious about his magic all at the same time. It wasn't like he had many chances to see spellcasters of any stripe at work after all.

[coldsong]

So they don't even have gas-powered stoves yet where the boy is from? But he doesn't seem skeptical of magic. That paints a picture. "Ask my oldest daughter later, she loves to explain things." Not that technology is Sigrid's primary focus, but it will give them something to chat about. "If all else fails, we can run to the library--can you read? No worries, if not. We'll figure something out."

Assuming he stays for any length of time, that is. Loki isn't going to keep him captive.

Loki sits back in his chair with the boots in his lap, soles up, almost as if he's a shoemaker working on them. There are no tools in his hands, though, and the glittery green-gold energy that curls around his fingertips is visible soon enough. "If you want to hurry back to where you came from, by the way, I'll assist, but you don't have to. More often than not, people leave here to discover little to no time has passed while they were away."

[mayberaven]

Fjord was torn- he could feel the flush darkening his cheeks at the question about reading, but was so reluctant to drop his gaze. Especially at the sight of that glittering energy sparkling into existence as Loki seemed to be getting to work. He'd just hope Loki's attention was more on his task than noticing that little detail.

"I'll ah... ask her then, that sounds like a good idea." Even if the idea of someone inviting him to interact with their children was a foreign concept, even the thought of it a bit unfamiliar.

"Time runs differently? That's..." He felt a faint curl of concern as his vague knowledge spit out memories of stories told that had his gaze dropping to the food he'd been eating, suddenly wary all over again. "Like the Feywild?"

[coldsong]

Lack of a direct response tells Loki that no, he probably can't read. He's not shocked, and chooses not to press the point for now. If the child stays long enough, that's something he can fix. "Please don't be offended or upset if she asks about your skin color. There's a story she's particularly fond of, about a sorceress with green skin. She's likely to make that connection right away; it's her favorite character."

He raises an eyebrow at the flicker of suspicion, and his lips twitch, hiding a smile. It would be so easy to tease...but he doesn't want him to panic. "Not quite so treacherous. A bite of food and a night's sleep here won't tie you to the place forever. Time runs differently, and sometimes there's a sense of dream logic that's in keeping with fae sensibilities, but no one's going to hurt or imprison you, and the people that offer you free food are, for the most part, just being generous."

[mayberaven]

Fjord can't help the incredulous look that flickers over his face. That anyone might see someone looking even remotely like him and decide that was their favorite character... he didn't think Loki was lying, but it just didn't happen. But then it was a story. Who knew why she liked that particular character? Regardless, he nodded his understanding all the same. It wouldn't be the first time someone had asked him about his appearance or commented on it. Maybe it'd be a nice change of pace for it to not be out of malice for once.

Loki's assurances that this wasn't quite like he was thinking were welcome. It didn't stop him turning his attention to the food, as if weighing if he should continue on or not, but... well if he was stuck here, he'd already started eating. Might as well enjoy the meal. "So it's like to take some getting used to then... if it's as... odd as you say, that is."

[coldsong]

"Don't look so surprised. Context makes all the difference. To someone with no prejudice against your kind, you're just a pretty botanical color. To someone with no fear of Jotnar, I'm just the color of the sky. That's what people often mean when they say if someone hates you because of your heritage it's their problem. In a way, it is--it has to do with what's in their head, not what's real. It's just that it also immediately becomes your problem when they get nasty with you."

"It definitely takes some getting used to, this place. Within the more populated areas it's physically very safe. There's a kind of magic that inhibits violence, and it's not always foolproof but it's reliable enough that most people don't even bother picking fights. Every now and again there's a crisis of some sort, but I wouldn't be raising my children here if I thought it was less safe than the world they came from."

[mayberaven]

Fjord was quiet as Loki spoke. Partly to listen to what he was saying, and partly because it was so foreign to his understanding of how things worked.

"I... can't say I've ever heard as such. That disliking my heritage is someone else's problem, I mean." He replied quietly, picking at a bite of pancake without looking up.

That the place was generally safe made sense. A god surely had his pick of places to go to raise children- assuming that was true, then the fact that Loki remained in the Nexus was a clear mark in the favor of it being at least not any more dangerous than things back home were.

[coldsong]

"You haven't?" Loki's expression softens into a blend of compassion and apology. "Well, someone should have. Other people may hate you because of their own prejudices, and that can't be easily changed, but you should never have to hate yourself."

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you wish, but if you do go back, I hope you'll remember that. I, at least, and I'll wager my children as well, are content to know you for who you are, rather than judge the what."

"And green is my favorite color, for the record." If Loki knew him better, this is the point where he'd ruffle his hair, but he knows the boy is a bit ill at ease still, so he refrains, opting instead to finish up the boots and set them beside him. "You can try those again when you've finished eating."

[mayberaven]

Fjord wasn't sure what to say. Or what to make of what Loki was saying himself. Yellow gaze skipping up towards him, protests familiar and well-worn in their shape bubbling up in his throat as he bit his tongue against spilling them. The support was unfamiliar but... it was nice all the same, and if he argued it too much, maybe he would spoil it.

Cagey as he was, he was still a child and his expressions were easy enough to read for someone like Loki. Confusion was unsurprising to be sure, if he'd never heard things like this. A bit of creeping fear underneath that the boy was likely unaware he even felt, that drove some of his insistence in picking out flaws and failings in himself to excuse the way others saw and treated him. Because it must be his fault. If not... then that meant that the world could be so very unfair and cruel, and that was simply too terrible for him to consider.

The comment about Loki's favorite color had Fjord's face flushing a bit darker as his eyes went back to his plate again, a mute nod offered at the instruction. "Thank you, sir."