pirateangelbaby | How Do I Say "You Were Right"? [for magpiemythos, backdated]

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loki

How Do I Say "You Were Right"? [for magpiemythos, backdated]

Week two of sobriety.

It's a strange feeling, going this long without a drink. The urge hasn't gone away, hasn't even lessened. It's for that reason that Thor decides not to seek out Loki at the Viper's Pit. Too much temptation all in one place. His brother might not actually be able to stop him, if he gives in now. Even just knowing that the tavern in Asvera is within five minutes' walk is difficult enough, and his only saving grace is that it's on his blind side as he walks past it to his greenhouse.

But he needs to see Loki anyway. Because he was right.

Thor is terrible at apologies. He knows this, and so does Loki. But the way that he'd left... it sits ill with him, harsh words spoken and hearts torn when they last saw one another. Perhaps in older days he might not have worried so much. But now...

Now he's lost his brother too many times to assume there will be time to make things right.

Cricket's house is familiar territory, though Thor has only been here a handful of times. The man himself is out in the yard, tending to the chickens, as Thor arrives, and though the human looks surprised to see him, he's as courteous as ever. Thor says nothing of his current struggles - wondering silently to himself if Loki has already warned him not to provide any more moonshine - but greets him warmly, as if this was only a casual visit, before inquiring about his brother's presence.

To his relief, and nervousness, Cricket confirms that Loki is currently at home. There will be no further avoiding this. Thor thanks him, and leaves him to his work, venturing hesitantly into the house in search of his brother.

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Life goes on. The world turns and for all he has his worries, Loki can't just stop and fret the whole while.

Not that Thor isn't on his mind near constantly. He keeps busy, at the bar and at home both, assisting with the animals, helping Cricket with whatever needs doing. If he's busy he can't get pulled into the spiral of worry, knowing that he can't just barge in on Thor. He'd called for help, and otherwise kept from harassing the thunderer while he was still dealing with things.

And honestly there was still that mild fear in him that his brother might just hate him. Logically he knew it wasn't so, but then... things like this were rarely logical.

Thor would find him easily enough if he followed the sounds into the kitchen where the trickster had set up shop, his little houndour Thori following at his heels as he was busily mixing something in a wide bowl, flour splattered over the counter and up to his elbows and across the apron he was wearing.

"Honestly Thori, there's nothing up here for you, I don't know what you're expecting from m-" He glanced up at the sound of footsteps, unable to help the brightening of surprise at who he saw in the doorway. "Thor!"

It isn't hard to follow the sounds of someone puttering around in the kitchen, though Thor absently trails a hand along the nearest wall to keep his bearings. It wouldn't do to walk into a doorframe and have Loki assume he's been drinking, after all.

He hesitates at the doorway, watching his flour-dusted brother and the beast at his side, uncertain of his own welcome. The smile that immediately comes to Loki's face makes his heart ache in his chest, some nameless guilt at war with the relief that Loki's first instinct was not to order him to leave. "Loki, hello. I, um... what are you making?" A safe question, he hopes.

"Cinnamon rolls!" Loki didn't seem upset to see him in the least. Quite the opposite in fact if the grin on his face was any hint as he gestured with a flour-covered hand to one of the stools. "Come sit, you can keep me and Thori company."

Thori didn't seem to mind Thor's presence either, padding around the island to sniff curiously at his boots to see where he'd been, stubby tail cautiously wagging.

Thor's boots smell of cold earth and fresh greens, glacial gravel and salty sea air, and just a hint of goat. All interesting smells for a beast such as this, no doubt.

Thor takes a few hesitant steps into the kitchen, peering down at the creature. "You... named it Thori? Should I be flattered?"

Incredibly interesting! Thori lets out a soft little whuff polite enough to be a indoor voice, but enough to be a greeting, tail going at a bit faster rate.

"Aye! Thori is the best of all dogs, so who wouldn't want to share a name with him?" Loki chirped in reply as he turned to dig through the fridge for a bottle of soda. There was another already half-finished and covered in floury fingerprints on the island amidst the baking detrius, so it wasn't quite obvious that this was more than just being a friendly host- something to occupy Thor's hands while he was so clearly uncertain wouldn't be amiss, Loki thought.

The hound is an easier proxy to speak to than Loki, and Thor crouches a little, offering his hand for the creature to sniff as well. His real hand, not the prosthetic. "Hello there, Thori," he says, sounding vaguely amused.

Soda isn't even close to what he really wants, but of the available options, it's the most appealing by far. He accepts the bottle with a quiet thanks, straightening back up. "...I didn't know you were into baking."

Loki can't blame him- Thori is a perfect go-between at the moment when both Thor and Loki himself are unsure how to continue on after the last time they'd spoken. Thor at least looked somewhat better which was reassuring. Whatever else came of this, he was getting help.

Thori was quite happy to sniff and nose at the hand offered before shoving his head under it with a pleased grunt, more than willing to accept the hello pets that were clearly his due as Best Dog.

"I am! A good way to keep mischievous hands busy, and well cooking and baking are a good way to break the ice when someone's not sure what to make of you." He admitted with a chuckle. "Hard to keep the whole 'God of Evil' thing forefront in your mind when said supposed evildoer is offering you dinner or some manner of dessert!"

Those insistent nudges are rewarded with headpats and ear scratches. Thor has never seen this kind of dog before, but that's clearly what it is, and just as open to affection.

"You're not evil," Thor answers on reflex, the title stinging as it should. Loki has always been a trickster, but evil? No. Thor has seen no such thing. "So are these for the, er, the tavern then?" A touchy subject, for both of them, but Thor can think of no other setting where his brother would be liable to be passing out treats to those who would think ill of him.

That reflexive, automatic sort of denial? As if Loki couldn't adore his alternate dimensional brother more, that would certainly do it. Something almost awkward in the faint flush and soft sort of smile that crossed his face before he settled on something more amused, a blink and you miss it sort of honesty in the moment. "Aye, but where I came from there were many who had reason to suspect otherwise. This was a wonderful way to subvert the expectations. And aside from that it meant I could have delicious food on demand! Luckily no one here has decided to try and apply that label so far."

Thori of course was unaware of the conversation, much more interested in the pets and ear scratches that Thor was offering, planting his muzzle under Thor's palm short tail wagging madly. "Nope! These are for me and those I deign to share with. Like you, if this isn't too brief a drop-in."

A bit of hopeful bribery? Surely not.

Thor ruffles the dog's fur, and puts both hands on either side of the pokemon's face to jiggle his head around in that way that hounds so often enjoy. The ears aren't quite long enough to flop around, but he has a feeling that Thori won't mind.

He looks up at the insinuation of an invitation, a little uncertainty on his face. "If it's not imposing," he answers, wary of trying to push too hard if his presence is unwelcome. Cricket hadn't seemed like it was, but he wouldn't want to interrupt anything important.

Thori is absolutely soaking up this attention, butt plunking solidly onto the floor, tail continuing it's frenetic wagging as he panted happily, eyes half-shut in that lolling sort of canine grin for the attention. No, he didn't mind at all, Thor was welcome to continue giving him all the affection.

"How could I possibly think you're an imposition?" Loki inquired in a genuinely puzzled sort of tone as he slapped out the dough onto the counter to knead. "Once you've given Thori all the pets as is his due, come take a stool. You can keep me company and then I'll mercilessly stuff you full of cinnamon rolls and lunch."

What a good boy. Thor is pretty sure that even once he sits down, he's going to have a dog's chin on his knee, those pleading eyes looking up at him to keep petting. And he's going to oblige, of course.

Thor doesn't answer the question, deciding to treat it as rhetorical. He's not here to get in an argument, even if it's petty and meaningless and won't hurt anyone's feelings. He certainly won't object to Loki insisting on feeding him, either. Homecooked meals are... not exactly Thor's specialty. Sure, he gets along fine, but most of what he knows how to make involves a campfire in the woods, and his electric stove just isn't the same.

"Mercilessly, eh?" he repeats lightly, giving Thori one more vigorous ruffling before he looks around for aforementioned stool. They must be sturdier than they look if they're in an Asgardian's household, so he does not hesitate to take a seat - far enough away that he shouldn't get dusted with flour, or so he hopes. "Listen, I..." How do you even talk about this? Thor's been rehearsing it in his head for hours, and now that the moment is here, it sounds stupid no matter how he looks at it. So instead he trails off, clears his throat. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Thori is absolutely gonna continue to beg for pets. And food once he knows Thor's getting fed here. Thor is his buddy right? He'll hook a pup up!

Electric stoves are awful, it's true. Loki much prefers his gas-lit one and will happily feed his brother. It's an easier way to show he cares than... saying words. Words that have emotions and those are hard okay!

"Absolutely without a single scrap of mercy." Loki confirmed cheerfully, a pleased smile on his face as Thor settled in. Wherever the furniture was sourced, it was easy enough for Loki to make sure it was enchanted so it was Asgardian-friendly.

"Me?" Oh shit. Sounded almost like an attempt at those Feelings Talks that Loki was terrible at. But he couldn't think of a single way to address them without brushing on their argument from the last time they'd crossed paths, a thing he was sure was still quite raw for his brother. So he avoided it and instead offered a soft chuckle. "Good, honestly. Better for your company."

True enough, and more importantly a bit more of a safe way to indicate there were no hard feelings on his end without actually... coming out and saying as much.

It's absolutely certain that Thor would be a hypocrite if he called out his brother on avoiding the question. He understands, far more than he wishes to. Avoidance is what got him into this mess in the first place, and in truth he'd rather avoid it here too if he can.

He peers at Loki, trying to tell if he's actually as fine as he says, if there's no resentment brewing beneath that innocent face that might one day stab him in the back as retaliation for his behavior that day at the bar. There's none that he can tell. But it can be hard to tell when it comes to Loki, sometimes.

He drops his gaze and ruffles the hound's cheeks again, rubbing his thumbs at the base of Thori's ears. "Good. That's good to hear. I, um. I've been meaning to visit you more often. Gets me out of the cold, you know?"

Loki knew what could come of avoidance. Knew the pain it could cause to both him and those he cared for all too well. But that didn't make it any easier to admit to harder things, which he was certain Thor was keenly aware of himself. But luckily he was doing well. Much better for knowing that Thor seemed to be doing better. He might not be the thunderer that Loki had grown up with but that mattered less and less as time went on. He treated him like a brother, fostered that bond that Loki had always in his own way desperately craved, and so he loved him fiercely as his own brother regardless of origins.

Not that he might admit it in those words. No, he would show it in actions, like what had sparked their argument, or here where his urge was to tend to his brother and enjoy his company. He grinned at the sight of Thor spoiling the hound currently starting to drool against his knee, green eyes bright with pleased amusement as he was rolling out dough.

"Well you're always welcome to come around, and I can bury you under a flood of chickens, dogs, and cows to help keep the chill from sinking in, hm?" He wouldn't really, but he straightfaced it enough that the image of such a thing likely popped into Thor's thoughts.

What's a little dog drool on his pants in the grand scheme of things? Thor has had far worse from his misadventures over the centuries, in Loki's company no less, if not this Loki. He doesn't mind all that much, the short fur ruffling under his hands soothing him as much as the beast, despite the metal of his fingers.

He glances up to Loki's face at that, eyebrows raised. "Well, maybe not that far," he says with an awkward laugh. "I seem to need my clothes laundered more often than they used to be. I don't think an avalanche of farm animals would help that any."

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How Do I Say "You Were Right"? [for magpiemythos, backdated]

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