He handed them a wrapped box, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he tugged them into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of their head, waiting for them to unwrap the gift--an engraved dagger, "I, uh, I made it from... it's, well, it's stardust, basically. From, uh, from what remains of Asgard. And, uh, it's engraved in... in my homeworld's language. It says, uh, loosely, 'to my fallen star. eternally yours,'" Running his finger over the text, he sighed, "That's-- my name. 'En Dwi Gast'."
they’d become used to the grandmaster peeking inside their head. that en dwi would know some things before the god was even aware that he’d looked for them.
in this case, their birthday.
something that hadn’t been celebrated in years. he hadn’t had the time, the chance ... or the reason.
so being pulled aside by the grandmaster, having a box shoved into their hands? that he wasn’t quite used to. he hadn’t gotten a gift since lady frigga had given him those books -- there was no time to think of that. not when a kiss was pressed to their head and an expectant gaze fell upon them. open the box.
and so they did. taking the dagger from the box and turning it over in their hand. it was heavy, a weight to it that felt comfortable. familiar. something akin to a bedtime story long since forgotten, but the memory of it being told found comfort.
asgard. what remained of it, at least. the whole of asgard’s history ... of the ground loki spent his young life on -- it now was in the palm of his hand.
❝ grandmaster … ❞
they didn’t understand. how did this man always make them so entirely speechless.
❝ it’s beautiful. ❞
im weeks late to loki’s birthday im sorry // acc.