[ It's moments like this that remind Loki that the king before him shares much with the Thor that he had once known and despised above all, but there is age behind the worn curve of his smile. Age and wisdom, like twin stars settled as jewels into Thor's crown.
Loki remembers the first apple of Iðunn he had eaten after taking Esja's skin. She had been a child, scarce past weaning, and a nursemaid of Nóatún had fed her cored slices of Iðunn's harvest. He had nearly wept at the sweetness of it; yet the pleasure had been tainted by the knowledge that the youth and vitality of the gods was not meant for him.
He would have sought revenge, had he been the young man he had once been — Loki, wicked Loki, cast off by all, would rise to the zenith of Yggdrasil, and even Skuld herself would foretell only a future that Loki approved.
Yet time has lengthened the shadows of Loki's patience, and his revenge knots itself into such chaos that even he cannot read its surface.
Thor's embrace is akin to that first bright taste of Iðunn's apple. Esja no such compunctions; gently, she strokes a crooked finger down the roughness of Thor's jaw. She wears the bearing of a queen even now, her affection bald-faced but muted. ]
The tumult of my mind will offer you no counsel, my king. [ Her hand spreads, the palm of it cradling his cheek. ] I am no seer.
no subject
Loki remembers the first apple of Iðunn he had eaten after taking Esja's skin. She had been a child, scarce past weaning, and a nursemaid of Nóatún had fed her cored slices of Iðunn's harvest. He had nearly wept at the sweetness of it; yet the pleasure had been tainted by the knowledge that the youth and vitality of the gods was not meant for him.
He would have sought revenge, had he been the young man he had once been — Loki, wicked Loki, cast off by all, would rise to the zenith of Yggdrasil, and even Skuld herself would foretell only a future that Loki approved.
Yet time has lengthened the shadows of Loki's patience, and his revenge knots itself into such chaos that even he cannot read its surface.
Thor's embrace is akin to that first bright taste of Iðunn's apple. Esja no such compunctions; gently, she strokes a crooked finger down the roughness of Thor's jaw. She wears the bearing of a queen even now, her affection bald-faced but muted. ]
The tumult of my mind will offer you no counsel, my king. [ Her hand spreads, the palm of it cradling his cheek. ] I am no seer.