[ There's a soft little laugh that escapes her, barely more than an exhale, when she realizes what he's doing. How he's building parts of what connects them, their origins, their home. The one she's lost-- that he's lost too, in his own way. Lost a thousand years later, but still gone.
Asgard. The Shining City. Skínngarðr, threaded down to the bare essentials of those rooms inside the castle that were Loki's. That had been hers-- she'd recognize that reading nook with her eyes closed. The few memories she had that were so ingrained in smell and feel and energy, comfort that they felt hardly worn on the edges at all.
The reading nook expands, stone and mason work and bookcases that curl into the arches of the ceiling, airy and solid at the same time. The tight bend of the space she had spent days reading with sun beaming down on her, the cozy cushions, heavily embroidered, the curtains with their tassels.
A place to return to. ]
I don't give you enough credit.
[ Because really Loki, she can feel it. The connection to the magic through that thing that powers them both-- emotion. ]
no subject
Asgard. The Shining City. Skínngarðr, threaded down to the bare essentials of those rooms inside the castle that were Loki's. That had been hers-- she'd recognize that reading nook with her eyes closed. The few memories she had that were so ingrained in smell and feel and energy, comfort that they felt hardly worn on the edges at all.
The reading nook expands, stone and mason work and bookcases that curl into the arches of the ceiling, airy and solid at the same time. The tight bend of the space she had spent days reading with sun beaming down on her, the cozy cushions, heavily embroidered, the curtains with their tassels.
A place to return to. ]
I don't give you enough credit.
[ Because really Loki, she can feel it. The connection to the magic through that thing that powers them both-- emotion. ]