What I Wrote Last Night
Jan. 20th, 2021 06:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lokiofsassgaardSmall snip from a future chapter
"Who went back into the wine stores?" he asked, walking around the sofa to pick up a half-drained bottle of Jötunn mead.
"I did," Sif said, watching him.
Loki showed her the bottle. Sif looked at it for a long, puzzled moment before sharply turning her gaze to Loki. She covered her mouth with both hands as Loki twisted the bottle to see the label for himself. He'd drank wine the night before, but had finished off an entire bottle to himself. He hadn't come close to finishing off the spirits he'd started with, but was long in the habit of returning anything unfinished to its place to keep it out of the hands of anyone else.
"I wasn't that drunk," Sif said, shaking her head.
"Someone was," Loki said.
He found a cork on the table and stuffed it into the bottle before returning it to its place on the shelf. Loki couldn't get drunk on the vast majority of what he kept. He collected wines and meads from other realms to share with his friends, and kept Jötunn drink for himself and himself only.
"Loki, what do we do?" Sif asked.
He walked back into the hall, scrubbing his face with his hands. He looked up at Sif, pacing awkwardly across a small space. She watched him with desperation written plainly across her face. Before Loki had left for Midgard, she had expressed a desire to start over between the two of them. And then he returned and immediately ended her father's career. But now she came to him, all but begging for help. He thought back to what Trevor had called him; a chaos god. Loki hadn't understood what that had meant at the time, but he understood now. Loki didn't sow chaos. He conjured it. His very presence caused pure, directionless chaos.
"We do nothing," Loki said. "We are equally culpable. It belongs to me, but you gave it to him."
He looked at her, watching her desperation rise.
"And you already knew that," he realised. "That's why you came to me, and not Thor."
"Who went back into the wine stores?" he asked, walking around the sofa to pick up a half-drained bottle of Jötunn mead.
"I did," Sif said, watching him.
Loki showed her the bottle. Sif looked at it for a long, puzzled moment before sharply turning her gaze to Loki. She covered her mouth with both hands as Loki twisted the bottle to see the label for himself. He'd drank wine the night before, but had finished off an entire bottle to himself. He hadn't come close to finishing off the spirits he'd started with, but was long in the habit of returning anything unfinished to its place to keep it out of the hands of anyone else.
"I wasn't that drunk," Sif said, shaking her head.
"Someone was," Loki said.
He found a cork on the table and stuffed it into the bottle before returning it to its place on the shelf. Loki couldn't get drunk on the vast majority of what he kept. He collected wines and meads from other realms to share with his friends, and kept Jötunn drink for himself and himself only.
"Loki, what do we do?" Sif asked.
He walked back into the hall, scrubbing his face with his hands. He looked up at Sif, pacing awkwardly across a small space. She watched him with desperation written plainly across her face. Before Loki had left for Midgard, she had expressed a desire to start over between the two of them. And then he returned and immediately ended her father's career. But now she came to him, all but begging for help. He thought back to what Trevor had called him; a chaos god. Loki hadn't understood what that had meant at the time, but he understood now. Loki didn't sow chaos. He conjured it. His very presence caused pure, directionless chaos.
"We do nothing," Loki said. "We are equally culpable. It belongs to me, but you gave it to him."
He looked at her, watching her desperation rise.
"And you already knew that," he realised. "That's why you came to me, and not Thor."
