Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, King of Asgard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pirateangelbaby) wrote2020-09-05 02:33 pm
pirateangelbaby) wrote2020-09-05 02:33 pm
Entry tags:
Hair Braiding For All
Summer has come to Asvera, and the locals will swear it has never been so green. Sure, the weather is still a cool thirteen degrees Celsius, and the stiff sea breeze often makes it feel just that little bit more drafty, but the mountain on the mainland seems to have exploded in a carpet of wildflowers and grasses, the greenery flourishing in the village itself along the edges of the roads. The juniper trees' twisted boughs are full, the lavender planted along the footpaths tall and thick. Fluffy clouds cast shadows across land and sea as they drift across the endless blue sky, the sun never quite dipping below the horizon, and every day the fishing boats return with their holds laden heavy with cod and coalfish and halibut. The wooden frames of the hjell along the shoreline of the islands are packed full of drying fish, and inside the greenhouse and in the field before Thor's home, crops ripen underneath the polar sun.
The village is a bit more crowded these days, between the Asgardians and the Sakaarans and the humans, and new housing has been built on neighboring islands and on the mainland. But Thor's house is where it always has been, up on the bluff apart from the densely packed homes on the little archipelago.
Inside the house is a little more chaotic than it once was. Today has been a more trying day than many of late. Thor's head aches from hangover and not enough sleep, having awakened a little too early by Eindrid seeking solace from some night terror, and then Una demanding breakfast since he was already awake. The kitchen is a bit of a mess in the wake of the children's breakfast, sugary jam fingerprints on the table and bits of cheese on the floor, though the ravens are making short work of the crumbs and squabbling over who gets the largest piece. Sigrid and Agnarr gather up the dishes to put in the sink while Eindrid toddles away in search of the television remote, and Thor has Una seated on his knee at the table while he tries to tame her hair. A half-eaten slice of salmon toast sits at his elbow next to a coffee mug that contains little more than the dregs, and smells faintly of mead under the roasted coffee flavor.
More than once he's had to start over already, and Una is fussing under his hands as he undoes yet another braid. They're due to have a visitor today, and normally he's much better about making sure the place is presentable - well, as much as a house with four children can be - as well as the children, but today he is dragging. What time is it, anyway?
The village is a bit more crowded these days, between the Asgardians and the Sakaarans and the humans, and new housing has been built on neighboring islands and on the mainland. But Thor's house is where it always has been, up on the bluff apart from the densely packed homes on the little archipelago.
Inside the house is a little more chaotic than it once was. Today has been a more trying day than many of late. Thor's head aches from hangover and not enough sleep, having awakened a little too early by Eindrid seeking solace from some night terror, and then Una demanding breakfast since he was already awake. The kitchen is a bit of a mess in the wake of the children's breakfast, sugary jam fingerprints on the table and bits of cheese on the floor, though the ravens are making short work of the crumbs and squabbling over who gets the largest piece. Sigrid and Agnarr gather up the dishes to put in the sink while Eindrid toddles away in search of the television remote, and Thor has Una seated on his knee at the table while he tries to tame her hair. A half-eaten slice of salmon toast sits at his elbow next to a coffee mug that contains little more than the dregs, and smells faintly of mead under the roasted coffee flavor.
More than once he's had to start over already, and Una is fussing under his hands as he undoes yet another braid. They're due to have a visitor today, and normally he's much better about making sure the place is presentable - well, as much as a house with four children can be - as well as the children, but today he is dragging. What time is it, anyway?
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Una's eyes glint fiercely at this suggestion, a look that may very well be mischievous if not for the fact that an adult endorsed this plan, therefore it must be above-board. "I bet he likes apples. Horses are 'sposed to like apples. But we don't have any gold ones."
"I'm sure Fjodrflotti won't be too picky," Thor assures her with a faint chuckle.
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"Horses often love apples," the rogue confirms with a grin. "Gold, green, or any color. If there aren't any here in Asvera when your birthday comes, I'll bring several bushels from the Nexus. What our pegasus friend doesn't want, we can enjoy together instead." If Amelia happens to go out of her way to ask Valkyrie about other treats her steed enjoys to make sure they're available for Una's birthday, then it will simply be all the better when they go visit. With every option covered, there will be no need to worry about the pegasus not wanting to take something from the girl.
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Una looks pleased by this proclamation, and leans into Amelia for a hug, something much easier accomplished with her sitting down. "Thank you, Lady Amelia."
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Once the girl's attention has shifted, Amelia looks back down at her phone. She doesn't comment on the extra photos Thor took, focusing instead on the final one that showcases his work. She gently touches the braid with her free hand to understand it better, her smile becoming wider as the complexity of it settles in. "It's beautiful," she tells him, turning her smile up at him from her phone. "Thank you. It's perfect for the theme of the day and you managed to use the last of the ribbon, too." She huffs a soft laugh as she gets to her feet. "I couldn't have done better myself, really."
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