AN:I finished this minutes ago. So anything wrong, sorry about it. This is actually a re-write of what I would have originally posted but I looked at it and was satisfied so...re-write. Felt like updating before the end of the year.
Happy New Year to all.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one but, perhaps, the circumstances that happens in this chapter.
Harry stared blankly at his apartment's ceiling.
He doesn't know what to think. It wasn't that he was angry at the Asgardian or anything, New York fiasco and his sort-of-but-not-really kidnapping notwithstanding. The sort of sobbing, blatant babbling and incoherent tales coming from the alleged god wasn't the reason either. But Harry was getting uncomfortable.
It was most likely due to the fact that Harry was having the life crushed out of him. He can practically feel the way his bones creaked, croaked and moaned as a result of Loki's strong grip. Annoyance briefly flashed in his eyes before they were back to simple indifference.
"Lokiii—Let. Me. Go. I. Can't. Breathe."
"My apologies, Uncle." And Harry was let go, quickly. As though Loki was afraid of his wrath. He had asked politely, though if a bit halting.
Sighing at the Asgardian's antics, after fixing his appearance, he stared a bit at Loki before moving to his flat's ('Apartment' Harry's mind unconsciously, dryly, corrected) kitchenette to make tea. Pursing his lips for a moment before asking, ever courteous to his guests, invited...or not: "Tea?"
"Yes, please."
Years of manners and protocol being drilled into his head by his godfather regarding tea and invitations involving his godfather and tea resurface their hold once more, making Loki a lot more subdued and child-like. His godfather's temper and whip-like retribution—for it can't be anything but retribution—were beyond legendary and rightfully feared. No one was safe from it, not him, not Thor, especially not Odin. No one was ever safe from his godfather, although, women would usually get a vicious tongue-lashing, unless there was the odd and fierce ones like Sif, but they were very rare. The patience his godfather possessed was always fluctuating. To phrase it as any mortal Earthling could, it can be more enduring than any saint or beatified martyr or as short as a mean drunk asking for more beer. None know which is more frightening when his patience runs dry though.
With a sudden delicate and controlled clatter, a cup of warm tea was placed in front of him, the china used was fine, it's design intricate and beautiful; the tea's aroma soothing and fresh, floral even.
His godfather was always particular about his tea and tea sets. The tea helps with his relieve stress and relax his nerves.
There are stories, though, that are told in hushed whispers in Asgard still, of how his godfather was near the end of his patience after dealing with a stressed day of bureaucracy and an overflowing medical wing, asked for tea only to be met with bewildered looks from the Asgardians around him, he'd tried to calmly explain what he meant but stress, miscommunication, fluctuating tempers and stubbornness on both sides(but more so on his godfather's)...resulted in...well it left more than a quarter of the royal palace's west wing leveled with his godfather looking not as stressed as before—though only by a small margin or so as he's been told—sipping a 'magicked' cup of tea ("Do not look at me like that, brother. They were asking for it." "...As you say brother..."). Asgard, to this day, Loki knows, cannot deliver a decent cup of tea.
He drinks the tea given to him, slowly, before tentatively starting a conversation with the apparent teen.
"...I..You—... You have changed, Uncle." Meek does not suit Loki, especially with his Silver Tongue reputation...but it means nothing since he learned most of his tricks, charms, enchantments, spells, pranks, manner...his godfather practically taught him everything he knew, he was Loki's teacher (Thor's as well, but he was a horrible horrifying pupil). Granted it was on Odin's request that his godfather teach them. It was one of the few things he felt grateful for that Odin had done.
"Oh? Have I?"
The reply brought him out of his slight musing, the tone waws dry. But, not as dry as it had once been, when he was still a but child and truly happy.
"Indeed."
Facing the apparent teen seated in beside him on the couch more fully, he continued. A tinge of remembering and childish and longing of a time that past, of a time less complex and hurting was coloured in Loki's tone as he spoke.
"You used to be more...volatile."
The tea cup was left on the coffee table, empty, as Loki wrung his hands, a habit that only showed in the presence of his godfather when he or Thor had done something, whether they did it together or not, that warranted punishment and while his godfather was a trusted adviser of the All-father, efficiently headed and occasionally taught the Healers of Asgard, their main tutor/teacher and frightening little man( obvious differences to a normal Asgardian, or Jotun); he was still that their understanding godfather and a vindictive trickster, they may have gotten scolding often from their godfather; but the man was rarely ever genuinely disappointed in them both. Sometimes after a scolding because of prank gone terribly right, he'd smile at Loki and muss his hair slightly and give him pointers in the form of riddles and puzzles.
"It's just—You used to never hesitate in sending someone sailing to the other side of the banquet hall or the throne room if they had irked you enough. Now though, you... You are calmer. Less prone to...ah, lash out on people. When I was younger and someone like that...odd? red, crude-mouthed, simpleminded boy—it would have been guaranteed that he'd be halfway buried under some rubble and be mentally scarred so it'd take a while for the—"
"Loki, you're babbling again."
There it was again, the amused leniency that colored the tone that the apparent teen spoke in, voice soft but humored as he spoke. Sitting relaxed on the worn armchair (like the rest of the apartment, worn but livable, there were no rats, rodents or anything, Harry checked and made sure there wasn't anything)
Near acid-green eyes closed as Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment. Then opening his eyes again, something dancing in them and dry, sly smile painted Harry's face as spoke once more.
"Perhaps... perhaps I've a bit of explaining to do. We both—no actually the entire family needs some explaining to do. And make that face all you want, nephew, this family will have a heart-to-heart talk. No interruptions, I'll guarantee it."
The vicious, vindictive smirk was as Loki remembered it. It wasn't chilling but it did bring a heavy sense of foreboding to all that would be part of the heart-to-heart ("You okay there, Thor? You look a little pale." "Long buried habits just resurfacing.") ("I fear for the safety of our halls, dear." "What brought this on my dear." "Your older brother." "...") Their teas long cold before them.
"But seeing as it is just the two of us now... I am willing to listen to anything. So talk. Although perhaps," Harry paused, hand coming up to rub his chin, as he stood and puttered through the kitchen, "I should get something stronger to drink, though the alcohol here would most likely do nothing but the burn is a welcome thing. And after our talk I think I should introduce you to your god-brother. If he's awake that is, lazy cat."
Towards the end as he spoke, Harry's tone became more fond, softer and quiet; and left Loki in a slight daze.
AN: See you all next year, I guess. Hope you've all enjoyed reading so far... I'll try to update soon. Sorry to those who waited for so long.