Written to Lakehouse - Of Monsters and Men, crosspost from AO3.

Hon'ne: What a person truly believes; the behaviour and opinions which are often kept hidden and only displayed with one's closest confidants.

"Farbauti," Laufey says to his wife as he holds the envelope in his hand, the thick cream-coloured stock cool in his blue fingers. "It is a letter for us." It was addressed to the whole royal court of Jotunheimr, but Helblindi didn't concern himself with the Nine Realms Postal Service, preferring to get his mail and information from other sources, and Byleistr, of course, had been far too infatuated with the Thor clone Loki had so kindly sent over to bother with such trivial things as mail.

Farbauti holds out her slender hand, and Laufey deposits the envelope into it, looking at her with anticipation. It wasn't often that they got mail in Jotunheimr; usually the couriers got lost in the icy wilderness, or got mauled by bears or something of the like. It must have been a very important letter indeed, for it to actually reach the palace.

She tears open the envelope gracefully, pulls out the cream-coloured invitation inlaid with silvery red and green vines. She smiles; the colours remind her of a Midgardian holiday she had coerced Laufey into going down to the realm for once.

"We are delighted to invite you to attend the wedding of Loki Laufeyson and Thor Odinson," the card read in elegant script that Farbauti was sure was Loki's hand. She smiles in remembrance, how she had taught him to write his first words, how he'd stuck his little purple tongue out as he concentrated hard and held the quill in unsteady fingers as he made his a's and b's big and curving across the page and smiled up at her afterwards.

"What is it?" Laufey asks, looking at her curiously.

"It is a wedding invitation," she replies, holding out the card for him to see. "For Loki and the prince Thor."

Laufey furrows his brow in irritation at the mention of Thor's name, and Farbauti has a stifle a giggle. She pats the throne beside her, beckoning Laufey to sit.

"Is he really that bad?" she asks, smiling. "Do you really despise him so?"

Laufey looks at the invitation murderously, as if it would suddenly sprout fangs and bite him by the slightest provocation. "Yes," he spits out venomously. "I do hate him."

Farbauti smiles quietly, watches Laufey as his red eyes roam over the cursive and the portrait at the bottom of the two of them, heads tilted towards each other, Modi squished in between them; Farbauti watches her husband's gaze soften as he looks at the portrait, watches the softening of his grim mouth at the corners.

After a few moments, Laufey sighs and closes the card, handing it back to Farbauti. "He is happy," Laufey admits grudgingly, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. "Loki is happy."

"Yes," Farbauti says softly, slotting the card back into the envelope and preparing a mental list of wedding gifts they could give to their youngest. "The prince Thor does appear to make him very happy, uncouth though he may be."

More silence fell across the throne room, and Farbauti wonders what her son would like. She knows he is fascinated with Midgardian technology, and furrows her brow in concentration as she thinks of all the devices that she could possibly procure for him. A toaster? Microwave? Those sounded elegant and sophisticated, a true sign of modernity and humanity's greatest achievements, Farbauti thinks.

Laufey clears his throat, interrupting her from her reverie. "I have...been a little harsh towards the prince, in the past," he says, not looking at her, but she can see the telltale flush of embarrassment creeping across his face. "He is...rather a good person. I think he will make a good match, a good father..." Laufey frowns, as though it pains him to say this. "A good king."

Farbauti smiles and reaches out, clutches her husband's hand in her own. He returns her smile, a bit hesitantly, stroking his thumb over hers softly.

"Would you mind writing the acceptance?" Laufey asks after a few moments. "My penmanship is unwieldy, as you have pointed out many times over the centuries."

Farbauti smiles, leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek. "Of course."