st_ratagem | Fishy drama (Loki and Val)

Entry tags:

loki,
valkyrie

Fishy drama (Loki and Val)

Goldfish, it turned out, were hypnotic. They swirled around, sometimes in a school and sometimes random, mostly empty fish minds mostly a dull, whispery hum. Despite that, it was easy to see little fish stories unfolding and little cliques forming and breaking up. There were reasons Loki had filched a roomy armchair from elsewhere in the Inn and set it up near the tank: he, Valkyrie, or both together spent enough time fish-watching that comfort was called for.

At present there seemed to be a small cadre of goldfish endlessly circling the same decorative rock, chasing off all the other fish when they approached. It could have been just a gang with territory, but Loki and Valkyrie had decided it was a fishy cult, worshipping the rock as a god. Valkyrie had suggested a small statue of him more than once, to see if the fish cult would abandon their rock. He’d laughed, but he had created their world and provided their food, so... it wasn’t that ridiculous.

Regardless, the fish continued to circle their rock. Holy wars were something to work up to.

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“I do.” The affectionate touch was enough to bring a small smile out of her, though letting her guard down only gave the grief a larger opening to cut at her. “The Valkyrie of your timeline won’t. She’ll miss out.”

"At least she won't know, either." That also almost certainly wasn't as comforting as it had seemed in his head. "For what it's worth, I think there's a very significant chance that death won't be permanent, one way or another. So three days, then a break, then... I suppose just however many star systems of separation." Loki was horrible at comfort.

"Just--" Valkyrie closed a palm slowly over Loki's mouth. "Shut up. For a little bit."

“Only for you.” The words were somewhat muffled, but comprehensible. Ordinarily being told to shut up was a decent inducement to keep talking, but in this situation? If it would help her, he would do it,

Lowering her hand and taking a deep breath, Valkyrie couldn't help but meditate on the countless times Thor must have had this very conversation with Loki. How did he find the energy for it? Not twenty minutes in and she was exhausted.

"Loki." She brought her head back up. "I'll grant you've given this thought. I'll grant that there's logic to it." Her jaw worked as she built up to her next words. "...Can you grant that not everyone shares your feelings about your own death?"

“Yes, but I don’t really see why not. It’s not like-“ he sighed and shook his head. He was difficult at best, after all. Tolerable in the short term, deeply unpleasant in any other. “Never mind. I can grant that.”

"You and His Majesty have your share of compelling and uncompelling arguments." She knew the brothers didn't care to be compared, but it impossible not to at times. She was firmly attached to both.

"But me? Right now. I haven't got an agenda. Not beyond just trying to get you to level with me." A pause. She was sober, and her brain itself was aching for a drink. She wouldn't indulge it--yet. She needed it to find the right words. "You don't want to be trapped. ...I don't want you dead. I don't have the answers of how to make those meet."

She assumed there was a way to get them to meet, which was... difficult to grant. “I am... very fond of you.” Not a thing he cared to poke at, at present; there would be time to be annoyed later at how he’d set himself up. “I’d make some kind of promise if I could, but... fifteen hundred years on my own was enough to make the void an unspeakable relief. I can’t make myself do anything but dread having to do it again, even for you or Thor.”

"And now?" Valkyrie leaned back against the cushion of the loveseat. "You still feel on your own?"

Loki shrugged. “No, here and now is different. It’s going to be miserable re-adapting when I leave here, but that’s future Loki’s problem.”

Was that better or worse? Maybe both. Everything about the pair and their relationship resided in shades of gray, why not one more thing to throw onto the pile. Valkyrie sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"...I'll only say one thing for sure. Just the one."

Likely something upset or frustrated, from that gesture of incipient headache. Well, she was entitled to it. Heavens knew he was awful to deal with at the best of times, and this had been far from that. It meant a great deal already that she hadn’t just gone and ‘let’ him settle himself back to a more usual level of terrible.

So, rather than speaking and making things worse, again, some more, Loki just nodded. Listening, not speaking.

It was something Valkyrie caught herself thinking, and frequently. When she opened her mouth to say it, she felt silly for it, but she’d committed to it now.

“I like the sound of your voice.” She bit her lip gently. “It’d be nice to hear more of it under better circumstances.”

...oh. That was... unexpected.

"I'll speak to you anytime you like." Loki, after all, enjoyed the sound of his own voice as well. He reached to cup her cheek, stroking with a thumb again. "Find a book, I'll read to you."

"I bet you say that to all your special friends." She wore her affection as a wry smirk and lifted her chin to enjoy his clever touch.

"No." Loki shook his head. "Only to you." That being the case, he leaned in, slid his hand to the back of her neck, and kissed her.

Valkyrie's eyes floated nearly closed. She wanted to close them all the way, but she felt as if she didn't trust him not to vanish on her. She pressed her palm to his chest, feeling his weight.

Loki deepened the kiss, pulling her forward into his lap, then murmured against her mouth, “As long as you’re here, I will be here.”

She didn't fight when Loki surrounded her with his body--not a difficult feat, given their difference in size. "Silver tongue, golden fingers." Her hands warmed his arms, sliding up to his shoulders. Her gaze traveled up and down his body once, as if visually confirming his presence.

"That's the goal." He wasn't necessarily trying to convince her of anything beyond stay here with me, about which she seemed to need very little convincing. But if she liked his voice, he was going to use it. "You have wonderful skin. So warm. Which of course may just be my cooler perception, but I love it either way."

“I’ve grown fond of your hair.” To emphasize it, she ran her fingers through it all at once, letting them get lost in the black waves. “A bit wild, when you let it.”

"Do you know why I don't?" He didn't bother to wait for an answer, continuing to speak against her skin, kissing between words. "When we were young, Thor didn't have control of his powers. He electrocuted me on a regular basis, which didn't hurt much but made my hair stand on end. I looked like a terrified kitten. So I started slicking it down, and never stopped completely." He'd been less emphatic about it, recently.

Her eyes finally began to relax, unable to help it against the interplay of his voice in her ear and lips on her cheek. She groomed his hair appreciatively, twisting a loose curl around her finger.

“Shame on His Majesty for discouraging a flattering look.”

The increasing degrees of relaxation in her were almost, almost as pleasurable as her fingers combing through his hair. Even without even a ghostly precursor to a pull, utterly unnecessary to this warm comfort. “I don’t think it was always intentional,” he said, before catching her mouth with his again.

Despite the barrage of insults aimed Thor’s way, Loki had again proven he was capable of charity towards him. She slowly melted against him, lips parted and willing for his attention.

“The nosiness is.” Another wry smirk.

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