Caving

One of the peculiarities of the Inn was that Thor was much less of a creature of habit than Loki. For all the god of mischief’s fondness for chaos, he tended to be comforted by a routine from which he deviated in small ways or abandoned on a whim. Thor just did whatever struck him and thus was less generally predictable.

That said, Loki knew his brother well enough that he was never that hard to find. It was a warmish cloudy day, Thor would be outside somewhere. Today, it was the gardens. Weeding, or something, trying to decide whether the grounds ‘needed’ rain, probably.

In case that was so, and because it would be easier to bail on a conversation going badly, Loki sent an illusion to the gardens. And didn’t waste time pussyfooting. “I have no intention of apologizing, you know.”