A/N: Similarly to my Harry Potter comedy one-shot, "The Haircut", this fic was inspired by a rather mundane task I was performing. In this particular instance, I had been rummaging through my sock draw in a desperate attempt to locate a matching pair of socks. Between silent curses and unintelligible and irritated mutterings, I asked myself why the simple task is such a Sisyphean feat. Why can I only ever find a single sock? What happened to its twin? Then, it dawned on me, perhaps a result of watching Thor too many times. Loki.
Disclaimer: If only I, too, were a Norse god. If I were, than I could easily steal the characters in this short story and take the credit for such wonderful creations that rightfully belong to Marvel Comics, and all else involved. But alas, I am a mere mortal, and as such, must resign myself to write slightly sardonic disclaimers to protect myself from copy-write issues.
Loki's Laundry
Thor lumbered through the hall with the grace of a recently-tranquilized elephant. Despite mortal's perception of Asgardians as omnipotent, all-powerful deities, they were still susceptible to the more mundane sensations such as sleep depravation, and the thunder god was no exception. Thor was currently plagued by the most horrific nightmares; gruesome images of monstrous ice beasts, mammoth insects, and twisted, faintly familiar faces were only a few of the chilling images that tormented him in the darkness. Last night's nightmare, in particular, disturbed Thor. Fortunately, the horrid dream remained bound to the god's unconsciousness, and upon waking, Thor could only recall a mere phantom of the original. Yet that small grace could not restore the slumber stolen by the restless night, and Thor ached with weariness.
Unfortunately, Odin had announced an extremely critical conference the night before, of what topic, Thor could only vaguely recall. Something to do with a Frost Giant, perhaps? Loki may have mentioned a dress, but no, that couldn't be correct. In any event, as the Allfather's son and crown prince of Asgard, Thor had no choice but to attend. So armed with the mystical Toothbrush of Cleantoskr and a bottle of Divine shampoo (perfect for maintaing those golden locks), Thor lurched towards the Royal Linen Closet to select a towel. He wished to bathe before his father's meeting in an effort to wake from his fatigued haze.
Thor reached for the ornately-gilded knob of the closet door, his fingers slipping off the handle thrice before the Lord of Thunder managed to tighten his grip, and wrenched open the heavily-jeweled door. To his utmost shock, a sea of soft, white...creatures rushed from the closet, burying Thor to his neck. Thor responded in a formal fury, as per his usual when confronted with a challenge.
"Unhand me, foul beasts!" he roared, "else I shall strike thee down in a raging tempest! Return to thy chamber, fiends!" The creatures did not respond. "Didst thou hear me, wretched vermin? Thou-". Thor grabbed one of the creatures and held it up near his face. "A sock? Why, these are no vicious beasts at all! But what are they doing in the linen closet? And wait, these socks are Midgardian. By my father's beard, what is- " Thor paused, perceiving a presence in the corner of his eye. He turned sharply, or as sharply as he could when obstructed by a massive mound of socks, to see his brother Loki slinking across the hall. "Loki!" boomed Thor. Loki flinched, then turned towards Thor.
"Ah Thor, well, er, what have you got there? Why, socks, how delightful". The God of Mischief chuckled.
"I'll have none of your silver tongue today, brother, I am far too weary" growled Thor.
"Still plagued by those nightmares, Thor? That won't do at all, no brother, our great realm requires a well-rested warrior prince. As I explained earlier, I can help you. I know a wonderful little spell-"
"Enough, Loki! Do not try to change the subject. What's this? What trickery have you been up to?"
Loki's velvet voice continued unwaveringly. "Why, I can't imagine what you mean. What's what?" Thor cocked a single, golden eyebrow, and gestured toward the small mountain of socks.
"Oh, the socks, well, I have no idea why they are there. What makes you believe I would have anything to do with them? What interest have I in mortal socks? Now, a thousand apologies, brother, but I must take my leave. Father's conference soon approaches, and I must-" As Loki made to hasten away, Thor grabbed his brother by the collar and drew him close, ice-blue eyes piercing into Loki's jade. Loki contemplated his position. Although much smaller and physically weaker than Thor, Loki's panther-like agility and grace would allow him to put up a much greater fight than the God of Thunder anticipated. However, time grew short, and while Loki did not fear his brother's wrath, he could not say the same for Odin. The last time the Trickster God angered the Allfather, Loki ended up chained to a rock beneath an acidic-venom drooling serpent, and Loki certainty did not wish to repeat the experience. No, in this circumstance, it was far wiser to confess his actions. "Alright, Thor, alright, I'll explain, just release me" sighed Loki.
Thor shoved Loki roughly away with a derisive snort. "Get on with it."
Loki's lips twisted slightly in irritation, yet, as he began to speak, shifted into his infamous vulpine grin, eyes glinting not with malice but excitement. "A few decades ago, I was strolling through Midgard when I came across a most curious contraption; it appeared to be a large metallic box, approximately the size of a hearth, and from it emitted a rather loud grumbling sound. Imagine Volstagg's stomach, that's the sound. Naturally, I was quite curious, so I investigated the purpose of such a strange machine. I discovered that it is known as a dryer, and its function, as it is most appropriately named, is to dry clothing after the clothing has been washed. My curiosity sated, I prepared to exit the chamber, but then I was suddenly struck with inspiration. I hadn't played any of my little...tricks for a while, father had been still a bit irked by the whole UFO debacle, Area 51 and all, but I just couldn't resist such a terrific opportunity."
"Enough with the suspense, Loki, for the love of Frigg, get on with it!"
"Fine, whatever you say, Thor". Loki's tone oozed with sarcasm. He muttered below his breath, "some people have no appreciation for a good storyteller". Raising his voice, Loki continued. "I laid an enchantment upon all of the present and future dryers in Midgard. Each cycle of use, one sock per pair within the machine is transported here to Asgard, leaving the owner of said socks hunting everywhere for a matching pair to no avail. " Loki laugh jovially. "You wouldn't believe the theories they have preposed to explain this 'phenomenon'. Some believe the dryer devours the socks. Others believe the socks to be pilfered by the members of a popular band, the Red Hot Chilly Peppers, who apparently use the socks as their only clothing. Still, other foolish mortals believe that the socks become animate and elope with lost pens. One theory I am not sure I understand; allegedly this Waldo fellow steals the socks. All and all, I can declare my prank a success".
Thor's eyes widened in understanding, a rare state for the god. "But you needed a place to store the socks."
"Yes, well, they accumulated extremely quickly, and I could not continue to hide them in my chambers."
"So you stuffed them in the linen closet?" said Thor, slightly skeptically.
"Ah, but there lies the genius! This is not just any linen closet, this is your linen closet." Thor's expression reverted back to its familiar befuddled appearance. Loki's eyes rolled toward the towering marble ceiling, and he sighed. "Honestly, Thor, sometimes I really don't understand how we're related. Do you not see? You never bathe, or at least not since I cast my enchantment over sixty Midgardian years ago. Thus, you never use this linen closet, thus, the socks would remain undiscovered!"
Thor elected to ignore Loki's implications regarding the state of his hygiene, or possibly did not perceive them."But clearly I have discovered them. Why didn't you just destroy the evidence? You certainly weren't planning on using them."
Loki grinned even wider, displaying the smile that inspired the mortal fantasies of Hermes, Puck, and Brer Rabbit. "That's the best part. As soon as the mortal gives up hope of recovering the missing sock and purchases a new pair, the sock is transported back to the dryer. Many times, mortals throw away matchless socks, deeming them useless, you see. "
Thor gazed gravely into his brother's jade eyes. Loki lifted his sable-haired head to meet Thor's gaze fearlessly. All was still. Then , without warning, Thor began to boom rich, sonorous laughter that was soon joined by Loki's melodious chuckling. Shoulder to shoulder, the God of Storms and God of Chaos headed towards the Great Hall, all thoughts of baths and meetings forgotten.
A/N: I, Angelstreasure, request reviews from thee, my good reader. Else, I shall ask Loki to prank thee with a most distressing yet hilarious jest.