Vidar looks more hesitant to disturb his king, though he nods in return. "I will get these to Lady Eir," he murmurs, hefting the pack, and steps out to give them privacy.
Blue wisps of magic pool around Thor's fingers, seeping into the dirt like water, and if Amelia is watching she may note how the seedlings flourish in response. Growing taller, spreading outward, sprouting leaves which unfurl and reach up toward the cloud-shrouded sun, revealing themselves to be rhubarb and cabbage, basil and dill. On their makeshift trellis, the bean vines crawl higher and flower buds begin to bloom, the potato plants blossoming shortly after, and the base of the onions turning a healthy, papery brown.
The soft scrape of her footstep is enough to alert Thor that he has company, and the seidr trickles to a halt as Thor turns his head to see who's there, surprise flickering in his eye when he recognizes the visitor. Her words are even moreso, and he has to take a moment to process how to respond, sitting back on his heels and absently brushing the dirt from his hands, flesh and metal alike. A smile does not come as easily to his lips, but he tries, mild homesickness stirring in his belly. "It'll do," he agrees quietly, looking past her for a moment at the village outside the glass walls, trying not to compare it to the splendor of Asgard-that-was. Trying to see the beauty that she sees, rather than the invisible loss that he does.
The movement of Thor's hands against one another has become less about cleaning off dirt and more about soothing his nerves, now, and he returns his gaze to her, although he doesn't hold eye contact as he used to. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were coming. I would've... you know." Cleaned up, maybe, although even Thor doubts he would have.
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Blue wisps of magic pool around Thor's fingers, seeping into the dirt like water, and if Amelia is watching she may note how the seedlings flourish in response. Growing taller, spreading outward, sprouting leaves which unfurl and reach up toward the cloud-shrouded sun, revealing themselves to be rhubarb and cabbage, basil and dill. On their makeshift trellis, the bean vines crawl higher and flower buds begin to bloom, the potato plants blossoming shortly after, and the base of the onions turning a healthy, papery brown.
The soft scrape of her footstep is enough to alert Thor that he has company, and the seidr trickles to a halt as Thor turns his head to see who's there, surprise flickering in his eye when he recognizes the visitor. Her words are even moreso, and he has to take a moment to process how to respond, sitting back on his heels and absently brushing the dirt from his hands, flesh and metal alike. A smile does not come as easily to his lips, but he tries, mild homesickness stirring in his belly. "It'll do," he agrees quietly, looking past her for a moment at the village outside the glass walls, trying not to compare it to the splendor of Asgard-that-was. Trying to see the beauty that she sees, rather than the invisible loss that he does.
The movement of Thor's hands against one another has become less about cleaning off dirt and more about soothing his nerves, now, and he returns his gaze to her, although he doesn't hold eye contact as he used to. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were coming. I would've... you know." Cleaned up, maybe, although even Thor doubts he would have.