#uf chapter 8

[geminijackdaw]

Six sentence Sunday 7/7/19

Loki sinks back into the seat, lolling back against the headrest. He’s finally found something like solitude away from the school–of-fish-like throng of warm bodies crammed into the Statesman— if only it didn’t provide a view straight down the gullet of the yawning black maw threatening to swallow him whole.

He’s had enough of that for a lifetime.

He lets his eyes slip shut, lets his hands curl around the controls— control, he reminds himself, the difference between flying and falling.

It’s just as he feels himself start to drift off again that a sound startles him awake.

[geminijackdaw]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

 “Thank you,” Loki says, eyeing her guardedly. He fiddles with a loose fastener at the collar of his leathers on his way to the exit, a little breathless, thoroughly humiliated.

“Your Highness is most welcome,” she says without looking over.

He feels his jaw tighten. “You know,” he replies, prodding experimentally at an access panel beside the door, “that’s beginning to sound awfully sarcastic.”

“It is not meant to, Your Highness.” Norns, it’s like talking to Heimdall.

[geminijackdaw]

Six sentence Sunday-6/30

“Thank you,” Loki says, eyeing her guardedly. He fiddles with a loose fastener at the collar of his leathers on his way to the exit, a little breathless, thoroughly humiliated.  

“Your Highness is most welcome,” she says without looking over.

He feels his jaw tighten. “You know,” he replies, prodding experimentally at an access panel beside the door, “that’s beginning to sound awfully sarcastic.”

“It is not meant to, Your Highness.” Norns, it’s like talking to Heimdall.