How sweet is the day, I'm craving a darkness [open]

[sorcerous]

WHO Loki and OPEN
WHAT Moping, but what else is new.
WHERE The stables, in the stable of his horse.
WHEN RD12
NOTES None so far.

He'd shouted at the palace servants. Sent one of them cowering and quivering, sobbing in fear. Find her, he'd cried, but none of them had been able to. Frigga is gone. Returned to Asgard, perhaps; perhaps to return here later without any memory of what's already come. Sif, missing, though there are some who swear she has fled to the forest.

He storms away to the stables and dismisses the stablehands with a snarl. Slips inside the stall of the horse they'd given him, the little dark-colored mare. She is lying down, her forelegs curled. He collapses next to her. Leans against her, heavily -- such is his exhaustion.

He sleeps, on and off, for the rest of the day. Perhaps she senses in him kin, of a sort, for she stays with him, not standing, not wavering.

Comments

[retrieverchef]

Eliot makes his own way into the stables. He's ready for a ride. No real destination, just get out into the open country and enjoy the feeling of being on horseback. He stops by the other stall when he notices both horse and man lying on the floor. "You okay, man?"

[sorcerous]

"Well enough, and it is no business of yours." He waves a blue-skinned hand, dismissively. He recognizes this man, distantly, from the hero's meeting. Can't remember what it was that he favored, as far as the options went. And he can't quite make himself care. It feels as though the inside of his mind has been scorched, has burnt away.

[retrieverchef]

"You sure?" he offers quietly. "You look like you feel like crap. You sure you don't want me to grab ya something?"

[sorcerous]

"Exhaustion has no cure but rest," he tells Elliot. "Exhausted is what I am." In mind, body, heart.

The horse makes a whuffling noise. Loki looks to her, and there is a gentleness in his red eyes, a tenderness towards the creature. She is the most loyal he has.

"If you could find an apple, or a carrot, or a few oats...?" he asks. "She deserves more care than I have given her."

[retrieverchef]

Eliot nodded with a small smile. "Sure. She's a darlin', that one. You sure ya don't me to grab you anythin' while I'm at it? Somethin' to drink, at least?"

[sorcerous]

A darling. She is, at that. Loki looks to her, and, if it's possible, there's a softening in his red gaze. He appreciates the simplicity of an animal. Appreciates and resents, when the animal dislikes him, but he has a way with horses.

"I will take water." Phrased as an order, but his tone is soft, a reluctant and vulnerable request.

[retrieverchef]

Eliot nods and leaves. About fifteen minutes later, he comes back a leather satchel slung over his shoulder and a pitcher in his hand. "Here," he says, opening the stall and stepping inside. "Water, a few apples, some sugar cubes for the mare. And I threw in a couple meat pies they had in the kitchen. In case you want them later."

He strokes the mare's mane gently. "So have you named her yet?"

[sorcerous]

"No."

It is on his lips to thank the other for his kindness, but the silence stretches, and then it is past the time when Loki could have. He presses on. Takes one of the apples, and brings out his knife, slicing it in half, and half again. He gives the first slice to her, and makes a strange sound in his throat. She bobs her head, returns it, as though they'd truly spoken.

"No, she has no name."

[retrieverchef]

"Amira would fit her, if you're looking for a name," he offers quietly. "She looks like a princess."