you know what i love about martin freeman
the way he acts
like when some people act they just say their lines in a convincing way while pulling a convincing facial expression
but martin
he does all these little physical gestures that most people do subconciously while talking
and he does these little breaks that people do when they think
because yes he knows his lines just fine but his character doesn't know what to say yet and he just does that thing that's sort of unconventional??
it's just really great okay a+
the unforgettable fire, kid Loki & Thor, Journey into Mystery/Tales of the Abyss AU
title: the unforgettable fire
summary: Journey into Mystery/Tales of the Abyss AU.
After Asgard's defeat by Jotunheim, the young Thor is taken into the House of Laufey as a servant; and becomes the caretaker of the youngest prince after a strange abduction that has returned Loki without his magic and his memories.
Warnings: Mild spoilers for Tales of the Abyss (but since I don't mention any characters' names, they are very mild indeed).
A/N: For Kura (who got me into TOTA), Fen (wish we'd known each other in Abyssland!) and Adi (who writes the lovely, most inspiration Abyss stories (plenty of spoilers here, folks)). Both Kura and Adi would recognise the genesis of this story in this particular Guy and kid Luke snippet I wrote seven years ago.
Wordcount: 1,095
“Loki – my Prince, forgive me – NO LOKI you can’t eat that! Put it d- spit it out! Spit it out now!”
The youngest son of the House of Laufey, third in line to the throne of Jotunheim, unceremoniously spat out the feather he’d attempted to swallow, and screwed up his face in great distaste. He glared at Thor, as if accusing him of making the mouthful taste bad.
“I told you not to eat it, my Prince,” remonstrated his weary servant and caretaker, even while watching Loki carefully for any further signs that the feather was disagreeing with his young charge. “Now, please come out of the flowerbed, you’re ruining the flowers.”
Loki obstinately sat down in the midst of the blossoms and refused to budge.
If he hadn’t been the son of the King of Jotunheim, Thor would have given him a good spanking. As it was, Thor found himself wishing he could have done just that – it might have saved all of them a great deal of bad behavior. But Loki had been treated like glass since his abduction almost a year ago, and in Thor’s opinion, it was doing him more harm than good.
Loki held out his arms to Thor, demanding to be carried.
Clearly, the youngest prince might have once forgotten how to speak, but he had never needed words to make his feelings clear.
Thor had, in fact, on more than one occasion, refused to give in to Loki’s outrageous demands, but such resistance never lasted for long. They both knew by now how those particular contests of will would end, particularly when Loki was so talented at making life extraordinarily unpleasant for Thor otherwise, to say nothing of the fact that a servant’s word against the will of the youngest prince was nothing more than a snowflake in Muspelheim.
While Thor usually won the battles over Loki to get out of bed (if only at a distressingly late hour), or those over wearing clothes, and about going to bed (sometimes Thor felt that half his troubles with Loki concerned going to bed and leaving it), but he certainly never won when Loki wanted to be carried. As it was, Thor stepped knee-deep into the flowers and acquiesced to the youngest prince’s increasingly insistent demands to be carried. Loki’s weight in his arms was considerable, and Thor knew that even at the rate Loki was growing, he wouldn’t be able to do this much longer.
Loki wiped his mouth on Thor’s sleeve, and looked up at Thor as if daring him to complain. Then he put his arms around Thor’s neck, and looked up at him as if he had all the right in the world to be in Thor’s arms, as if he were doing Thor a favour by allowing himself be carried. And all of a sudden Thor realised he would miss this, when Loki was old enough not to want to be carried any more.
Thor glanced at the remnants of the feather’s barbs and broken-off quill on his sleeve, which Loki had so unceremoniously used as a napkin, and sighed. There were some parts of this life he wouldn’t miss.
It was strange, how Loki’s kidnapping had changed so much. Aside from that matter of Loki never being allowed out of the palace until he was of age, it had made Loki a much greater part of Thor’s life than he had ever been before. Before this, Loki hadn’t needed to be looked after for every second of his life. While Thor still been Loki’s servant then, this Loki seemed to need him more than he previously had. He set Loki down on the path between the flowerbeds, and Loki immediately set off for the nearest fountain, on legs he had only recently mastered the use of.
Correction, thought Thor, this Loki definitely needed him more, as he belatedly ran to put himself between the inquisitive Loki and the fountain. Wouldn’t want the young prince to fall into the fountain now, would he, not when he so resented being made to change his clothes, and what with that feather he’d almost eaten. Hopefully he wouldn’t be landed with the task of explaining the unexpected addition to Loki’s diet to the palace staff, if said diet disagreed with him.
Whether Thor wanted to admit it or not, he was getting used to the new Loki. In the morning, Loki woke and was attended to by the household maids, and was returned to them every evening to be put to bed, but between then, he was all Thor’s. It hadn’t been a responsibility that Thor embraced. Not at first, at least.
It had been unnerving watching the young prince so silent and still when he’d returned to the household. Loki had always been given to quiet and stillness, but it had been unnatural, the way he’d done nothing but lie on his back, watching the ceiling, occasionally gurgling and attempting to turn himself over. All had hoped that Loki’s memories would return once he had recovered from the trauma of his capture, but they never had. Weeks from recovering Loki, the King and Queen finally resigned themselves to the fact that their youngest son would not soon recover his powers of speech, the beginnings of talent at magic he had once shown, or even the ability to walk or do the slightest thing for himself. They were practical people, and soon had engaged a small staff of physicians and healers to help rehabilitate their son.
Regrettably, they discovered that Loki couldn’t be cured – what he most needed was time, and patience, as he slowly re-learned everything from his parents’ faces and how to sit up. It was a blessing that Loki was still a quick learner, as he’d always been. He took his first (or second) unsteady steps seven months after being returned to the palace, and lately he had even managed a few words.
One of which he chose to use now.
“Thor,” Loki said, insistently. “Thor.”
Loki had learned that water brought him something to drink when he was thirsty, hungry brought him something to eat, and Thor brought him endless hours of entertainment.
“Yes, Loki,” Thor says, then corrects himself. “Yes, my Prince.” It is difficult to remember Loki is his Prince when he sees him so often falling over himself, trying to eat feathers, and demanding to be carried.
“Home,” Loki says, watching Thor’s face intently, and tugging at Thor’s sleeve to make his point clear. “Now.”
