Continued from [x] // @iiidiosyncrasies
Once he was pointed a direction, locating Loki was almost frustratingly smooth, given his prolonged and blind chase. Thor wasn’t always quite so adept to see through the guise of the trickster, but with resource and recognizing the faintest, just barely esoteric seidr Loki emitted the hunt was finally met with tangible acquisition.
It was inevitable their meeting would rise dispute, brutal and desperate with deep-rooted ire. How many times Loki had actually inflicted harm, his blades lacerating and biting to indulge in raw ichor, Thor couldn’t discern. Adamency and conniption dulled every wound, sweetly, until his mind was abandon of everything but the image of his dastardly brother.
Resolve was granted when Thor charged, grasping at the other and exuding brilliant flickers of electricity and in its wake the gradual beginnings of rainfall. Unhinged, every nerve rattling, the stormur vehemently raked calloused fingers through the tresses of Loki’s hair, the resounding scrape of his nails ensuring him this was no apparition. Despite only having a subtle height advantage, Thor towered over Loki, demanding, and backing him rashly against the wall.
His breath was short, nostrils flaring and eyes alight with warning. He had come this far, he realized, and he had also come this far without a proper plan. Thor tensed, inwardly chiding himself. Bringing Loki back to Asgard, to Odin, was ideal in order to pay penance for his crimes… But it wasn’t so simple, on many accounts.
“Answers first.” He said, opting for borrowed time, “You will tell me of your whereabouts, and--” A sigh heaved through his nose, as if to still himself from the creeping sentiment that yearned to reach out. “-- Why, Loki. You are deeply rooted to chaos, always have been by birthright, but to give into this nefarious game? You are above such a contemptible calling; I know you to be better than this.” And though he meant it, earnestly, the words felt heavy, and tasted of iron upon his tongue.
