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2018-11-05
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A Place at Home

Summary:

“Well, what I mean to say is,” Thor said, swiveling in his throne (or rather, the captain’s chair in their spaceship), “that one of the things Darryl taught me was about land property and ownership in the Midgardian country of Australia. Once we - well, once I moved out, I found another place and bought it to store my belongings. So once we land in Norway, I want to go there and pick a few things up.”

“And you want me to go with you.” Loki looked back at Thor, expression flat. Thor gave him a cheeky little smile, and Loki wanted to slap it right off him.

“Of course!” Thor exclaimed. “Who else but you, with your extradimensional pockets, can carry my furniture back for me?” He reached out and patted Loki on the arm. Loki looked down at that hand and considered, quite heavily, stabbing him.

Notes:

This is for you, Tesla!! I hope this can bring a spot of happiness to you :')

Work Text:

“You know, I lived on Midgard for a little while,” Thor said, as if this were actual news and Loki hadn’t spent his entire reign spying on Thor’s whereabouts.

“Oh, really,” said Loki.

“Yes! I had quite an interesting time. I roomed with a man named Darryl, son of Jacob. He worked in an office. He was a funny little man, with all of these Midgardian sensibilities. Very - how do you put it, down-to-Midgard. We had a great time together. Him, typing at his computer. Me, being a god. You know.”

“I’m fascinated,” Loki said.

Thor grinned. “He taught me quite a bit about the ways of Midgard. Their culture, their ways of life. How to use this device called a toaster. Did you know that Midgardians package their bread pre-sliced? And that this toasting device was created specifically to hold and crispen these pre-sliced pieces of bread?”

“Truly marvelous creatures, these Midgardians.” Loki looked out into the vast expanse of space. It didn’t seem so bad, anymore. Maybe he should try it again.

“Well, what I mean to say is,” Thor said, swiveling in his throne (or rather, the captain’s chair in their spaceship), “that one of the things Darryl taught me was about land property and ownership in the Midgardian country of Australia. Once we - well, once I moved out, I found another place and bought it to store my belongings. So once we land in Norway, I want to go there and pick a few things up.”

“And you want me to go with you.” Loki looked back at Thor, expression flat. Thor gave him a cheeky little smile, and Loki wanted to slap it right off him.

“Of course!” Thor exclaimed. “Who else but you, with your extradimensional pockets, can carry my furniture back for me?” He reached out and patted Loki on the arm. Loki looked down at that hand and considered, quite heavily, stabbing him.

Thor’s property in Australia was a bungalow - a small, one-story house for a small family. It had a sprawling green lawn (with the grass nearly reaching halfway up their calves) and a long veranda to provide shade from the ridiculous heat of the sun. There were what might have been potted plants decorating the veranda, except by now they were merely pots of dirt with dried-up husks sticking out of the pot.

“Lovely place, brother.”

“Shut up,” Thor said easily. He reached up and slotted his fingers inside a little nook hidden from view, from there pulling out a key.

“With excellent security. You know there could have been poisonous spiders or scorpions hiding in there, right?”

Thor ignored him, unlocking the door and stepping inside. Loki followed suit. The house was just as small inside as it was outside; it was rather bare, in all honesty. It looked as if it had come right out of the broker’s hands and into Thor’s possession; there was nothing in the kitchen, and nearly nothing in the living or dining room besides a few scattered chairs and a table. The house itself was nothing to speak of. Cream walls, dreadful granite countertops, and an absolutely horrifying popcorn ceiling. “When did you purchase this?” Loki asked. “Thirty Midgardian years ago?”

“Of course not, I was training in Vanaheim then,” Thor said, in all seriousness. “Let me show you my room.”

“Oh dear, you ought to court me for at least a few more decades before saying that,” Loki gibed, but he followed Thor into a hallway. His brother pushed open the door to the master bedroom, revealing a warm and sunny room with plush, fluffy quilts, gourds and gold scattered all over the floor, some old armor, leathers, and weapons stashed on racks in the corner, and a large sheet of paper upon which were affixed drawings, notes, photographs, and string. It appeared to be a mindmap of the infinity stones and - Loki blinked - Thanos.

“Ah,” Thor said. He walked over to the mind map and tapped a finger on it. “This, we might need. I spent quite a bit of time trying to, you know,” he waved his hands around his head, simulating a brainstorm, “piece things together. I’d like to think I got quite far, but, you know - I’ve never been good at writing things down and organizing them like this. Could probably use your help tightening things up.”

Loki walked closer. His picture was on there, even - near the center of the map, as if all of the connections had spawned out from it. “Of course. You were always better at thinking on your feet, when things were already in motion. I’m surprised you did as well as you have with this.”

A backhanded compliment, but one Thor understood. He cuffed Loki lightly on the head.

The both of them worked together to unpin the mind map from the wall. Loki stored it away, along with Thor’s other possessions. The gold could be melted and reworked by Asgardian artisans to be sold as exclusive Asgardian finery for the Midgardian elites, and the armor and weapons would be useful to outfit a few guards.

There were some books and a few miscellaneous boxes that Loki also stored; when he was done, the room became just as bare as the rest of the house.

“Looks like we’re done here. Is there anything else I can carry for you, o dear brother of mine?” Loki asked, dusting off his hands.

“There is…” Thor hesitated, strangely, fidgeting under Loki’s piqued gaze. “Well. There might be some things. Not - they’re not mine, but--”

“Lead the way,” Loki said, instead of suffering more of Thor’s bumbling words. His brother grimaced slightly out of embarrassment, cheeks slightly flushed. He lead Loki out of his bedroom and to the room across from it.

“This is, uh,” Thor said, “this is your room.”

He pushed the door open.

Loki walked in, almost in wonder; the room looked as if it belonged to an entirely different house. The far wall was a mural of a forested garden, much like one of the paths Loki and Frigga had often walked through on Asgard. In front of the mural was the bed - large and spacious, covered in a dozen pillows and downy blankets.

The other walls of the room were painted a rich and deep forest green, and the floor was made of pale wood. A writing desk sat at the side of the room, light filtering from the window and onto the elegant, cushioned chair before it. Several sheets of paper, books, pens and pencils, and little trinkets lined the desk and its shelves. Loki ran his fingers over the wood, ignoring the dust; he picked up one of the little trinkets. It appeared to a small magnet with a plastic imitation Mjolnir attached to it. Beside it was another magnet shaped like Loki’s helmet. There were small figurines of snakes, snow globes of various cities, strange minerals, fossils, gemstones, and then a clumsily-shaped, handmade pot in which Thor had placed several pens. Loki realized that these were all things Thor had collected during his travels - one of these stones came from the depths of the Midgardian ocean, while another came from the core of Muspelheim’s molten earth.

There were many other things in the room - bookshelves filled to the tops with tomes; a gyroscope containing the Midgardian globe; and even what appeared to be a reading corner, with a chair meant for Loki to curl up and relax in for hours.

These were all things Thor had prepared for him.

Thor stood sheepishly in the room, trying to lean suavely against a wall before giving up and carrying the burden of his own awkward endeavors on his shoulders. “This is, well. I had to find some way to pass time on Midgard while waiting for the next monster to fight, and all that.”

Loki’s room had been planned down to the smallest detail, every inch of it carefully decorated and arranged, every piece of furniture painstakingly chosen to be exactly what Loki would enjoy.

“Why did you make this?” Loki’s voice came out soft - softer than he would have liked. “You thought I was dead.”

Thor didn’t answer immediately. He cleared his throat, looked away. He took a few steps into the room and fiddled with a carving of a wolf placed on an endtable. “I own this house,” was what Thor said, finally.

“...And?”

“And,” Thor continued, gruffly, “since this is my house, it’s my home. And I wanted to make sure that there was always a place for you, in my home.”

“By the Norns.” Loki’s voice choked up. “The sentiment in you.”

They both looked at each other, on the verge of tears, and laughed. They came together for an embrace. Thor nestled his head against Loki’s hair, and his body was warm against Loki’s.

They stayed there for a good while, relaxing into the comfort of being able to share this ease between each other, until finally, Thor said, “Heimdall is probably going to start looking for us if we don’t get back soon.”

“Heimdall should learn to keep his eyes to himself,” Loki said, but the two of them parted anyway, smiling. “Well then.” Loki wiped his cheek with a put-upon sigh. “Let’s bring this back home, shall we?”

“Aye,” Thor said, grinning.