Have you ever known me to hold my tongue? You are not a monster, no more than I am. We both have Jotun blood, so yes. We have some monstrous traits at times, but you are as beautiful as you were the first time I held you. If they can not see it, then they are not worth of my only daughter.
[ Loki knew that night the midwives handed her to him that she was marked by death. Her mother's magic was all that kept her from death. As much as he and Angrboda fought now, they both would agree that they were better with their daughter in the land of the living.
It wouldn't take him long to get there. Once he reached Jotunheim, he used a portal to appear at her door and knock. Sometimes he would just walk in, but he was trying to accept that his little girl is growing up.
The sweater was green with little golden snakes all over it. Ugly, but very him.]
[ Hers has festive dinosaurs, ugly monsters just like her. Which only further hints at how uncertain she feels about herself. On one hand, she knows her heritage; she's proud of it, even. It's when there's talk of romance and marriage that she seems to spiral into self-doubt. Who could ever love someone like her?
The knock surprises her, but apart from her father's message confirming that he was on his way, it's not like anyone else comes to visit her either. And while there are still signs of her inner turmoil when she opens the door, they temporarily dissolve at the sight of Loki in his ugly sweater.
Laughing, she throws her arms around him. ] You really did it.
[ Loki wanted to be mad for her, but seeing those festive dinosaurs and her throwing her arms around him. How could he? Wrapping both arms back around her and spinning her once, as he always does anytime he gets to be there with her in person.
Only once her feet were back on the ground did he look down at her face. A worried look etched back in place. Why was she already glamoured? ]
I said I would, did you doubt me? My lies are never for you, beloved. Now what is this? Why didn't you let me see use your skill?
No, but that sweater is ugly. It's not befitting of... you.
[ What starts out as a well-meaning joke quickly spirals into something else, which he can tell because she trails off. All this talk of ugly things, coming from one such ugly thing, it's ironic.
She, of course, feigns innocence when probed about her glamour. ]
It is, but, my darling daughter asked me to wear it. So I did. Your uncle Thor bought this on Midgard. I hate it.
[ And yet he tried to keep the smile in palce for her, a hand reaching out to touch her cheek. Testing the glamour where he knew the true skin should be. To see if it cracked under his touch. He didn't push his seidr into it to force it away.
Yet, he looked troubled. ]
You are showing excellent skill, yes, but. I don't like it. I'd rather see you as you are. Show me my beautiful daughter. You needn't hide from me.
[ He could still recall the whispers of the wet nurses when she was born, saying she almost looked Aesir, and that he might steal this one away as passing. He never wanted that for her. He wanted her to be free and loved.] Let's go inside, and have a spot of tea, yes?
[ That he did it for her made her smile. A genuine one this time, even if fleeting. It was comforting, at least, to have one person unconditionally on her side. Who else took the time and effort to come to her birthday party, to wear an ugly sweater because she asked?
But the smile faded when he touched her cheek. And while it took some time before she relented, she eventually let the glamour fade from her face. I'm beautiful, she tried to tell herself, after her father's affirmations. Would anyone ever love her as he did to see past her marred appearance? ]
Tea and a story. Where have you been lately? Did you get Uncle Thor in trouble again?
[ She loved those stories. She loved it when her father got away with his tricks. The Aesir were often so gullible. ]
[ Someone as selfish as her father could be. Granted, he tries hard to keep his reputation from his children. They were some of the only people that were his unconditionally. He and the boys might argue, and the norns know him and Angrboda have not seen eye to eye since the punishment happened.
Still, Hel was always going to be treated as the princess she should have been. She was his only daughter, and he'd kill for her. As the glamour faded, his smile widens, showing those crows feet and laughter lines. His true smile, not the wicked or mischievous grins. ]
There's my little girl, come, give us a hug first. Then we can have tea and stories, and I might even update you on your uncle oaf.
[ Stepping inside to hold his arms open for her. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ At least her brothers are "monsters" because they can shapeshift into fearsome forms. She's just... ugly and deformed and maybe better off dead.
Clearly, someone's called that to her face. But she's still kind enough not to sic her father or brothers at them.
She's definitely upset by it because he'll notice when he arrives that she's glamored herself even in his presence. Which she doesn't do before. ]
no subject
[ Loki knew that night the midwives handed her to him that she was marked by death. Her mother's magic was all that kept her from death. As much as he and Angrboda fought now, they both would agree that they were better with their daughter in the land of the living.
It wouldn't take him long to get there. Once he reached Jotunheim, he used a portal to appear at her door and knock. Sometimes he would just walk in, but he was trying to accept that his little girl is growing up.
The sweater was green with little golden snakes all over it. Ugly, but very him.]
no subject
The knock surprises her, but apart from her father's message confirming that he was on his way, it's not like anyone else comes to visit her either. And while there are still signs of her inner turmoil when she opens the door, they temporarily dissolve at the sight of Loki in his ugly sweater.
Laughing, she throws her arms around him. ] You really did it.
no subject
Only once her feet were back on the ground did he look down at her face. A worried look etched back in place. Why was she already glamoured? ]
I said I would, did you doubt me? My lies are never for you, beloved. Now what is this? Why didn't you let me see use your skill?
no subject
[ What starts out as a well-meaning joke quickly spirals into something else, which he can tell because she trails off. All this talk of ugly things, coming from one such ugly thing, it's ironic.
She, of course, feigns innocence when probed about her glamour. ]
I am showing you my skill. See? It's perfect.
[ That cuts her, too. ]
no subject
[ And yet he tried to keep the smile in palce for her, a hand reaching out to touch her cheek. Testing the glamour where he knew the true skin should be. To see if it cracked under his touch. He didn't push his seidr into it to force it away.
Yet, he looked troubled. ]
You are showing excellent skill, yes, but. I don't like it. I'd rather see you as you are. Show me my beautiful daughter. You needn't hide from me.
[ He could still recall the whispers of the wet nurses when she was born, saying she almost looked Aesir, and that he might steal this one away as passing. He never wanted that for her. He wanted her to be free and loved.] Let's go inside, and have a spot of tea, yes?
no subject
But the smile faded when he touched her cheek. And while it took some time before she relented, she eventually let the glamour fade from her face. I'm beautiful, she tried to tell herself, after her father's affirmations. Would anyone ever love her as he did to see past her marred appearance? ]
Tea and a story. Where have you been lately? Did you get Uncle Thor in trouble again?
[ She loved those stories. She loved it when her father got away with his tricks. The Aesir were often so gullible. ]
no subject
Still, Hel was always going to be treated as the princess she should have been. She was his only daughter, and he'd kill for her. As the glamour faded, his smile widens, showing those crows feet and laughter lines. His true smile, not the wicked or mischievous grins. ]
There's my little girl, come, give us a hug first. Then we can have tea and stories, and I might even update you on your uncle oaf.
[ Stepping inside to hold his arms open for her. ]