(Untitled)
Thor had hoped beyond reason that just because they were in Asgard again, that Thor had reunited Loki with his beloved wife, that perhaps he might be forgiven. So far as he could see, though, that wasn't the case. Loki kept busy talking to people - Spock, Leonard, anyone else - but wouldn't stand a minute alone with Thor, as if he were trying to
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How many people knew about him, anyway? He ducked beneath a tapestry that was pinned back at the end of the corridor and found himself in another hall leading to a staircase. More utilitarian than opulent but still lit by gilded torches and accented with rich carvings along the ceiling, he supposed this must be some sort of servants' area. Leading to the kitchens, maybe, judging by the inviting smells coming up the stairs.
Jim's stomach growled. He had been exploring for hours while Spock and Bones squabbled over some of the things Spock had learned here. They had been in their element, the two of them, and Jim had slipped away to wander and think. He started down the stairs, deciding to try his luck at getting something to eat, but slowed when he heard voices below.
He rounded a bend in the staircase and froze, watching Thor and Loki.
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Thor's brows drew together in confusion, and his hand tightened on Loki's hip. "You have appointments already? Who - "
Loki interrupted him with a laugh, and he cast a brief glance over Thor's shoulder before sneaking another kiss from him. "...I'm not the one with obligations; that seems to be you." He stepped to the side, and Thor turned as he tried to catch him by the arm again.
The fabric of Loki's shirt slipped through his fingers as he caught sight of Jim and froze.
"Good afternoon," Loki said to Jim with a nod and a charming little smile, and then he disappeared out of sight, leaving them standing alone in the passageway.
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None of it made sense. He felt an odd sort of distance from his body, observing the coldhotsick feeling of shock coursing through him from what felt like a great distance. Licking lips gone dry, his eyes flicked to Thor. "You..."
"But that was..." Jim could count on one hand the number of times he had felt this awkward in his lifetime. Brows furrowed in an unconscious echo of Thor's expression, he stepped down off of the stairs. "What just happened?"
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He looked up to meet Jim's eyes. "You saw what happened, Jim." He motioned up towards the top of the staircase again. "We should discuss this elsewhere."
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His eyes guarded, Jim studied Thor for a long moment. "But I suppose we should go. I've been wanting to talk to you." About his life, his adventures, his time as George Kirk... but this was something he'd never thought they would be discussing. Jim stepped back, indicating that Thor should lead the way.
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There was enough idle life in the hall to mute the awkward silence between them as Thor walked for the garden balconies, the ones that overlooked the roses and dwarf fruit trees, heavy now with various hybrid fruit. As they stepped through the archway, a servant stopped pruning the hanging orchids to attend to them. "Lunch for two," Thor said to him, "and a keg."
"Yes, Your Highness." And the servant left with a deep bow.
"What would you like me to explain first?" he asked, taking a seat at the carved oak table under the awning.
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Jim paused, suddenly not certain what he did want to know. Lowering himself into the opposite chair, he folded his arms on the table, tracing the grain of the wood with the fingers of one hand while he thought. "What happened in the hall was your business. But..." He wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going on there, but at the same time he wondered why. Were customs here so different? He thought not, recalling the look on Thor's face.
Looking out over the gardens, Jim sighed. "I want to know you better. I want to know the man who was my father," he admitted. "But every time I learn something new about you, it makes him seem farther away."
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With his elbow braced against the arm of the chair, the knuckles of his hand pressed to his chin, and the corner of his mouth quirked in a small, brief almost-smile. "My brother was the one who gave me that form, albeit as a child - and then he left me in Riverside with nothing but my name."
Then he finally looked back to Jim. "Your grandfather, Tiberius...he had a kind heart that afternoon, and every day thereafter."
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"Why did your brother leave you there?" Jim looked up at him, finally, curious about that revelation. He'd thought it was simply a choice Thor had made, going to Earth because the mood struck him. It had never occurred to him that he might have arrived in another way.
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"Humor. I think he expected me to wander for longer than I did." His hand dropped, fingers drumming once against the edge of the table. "He took my memories, too, for the same reason."
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"How old were you? I mean, when you found Grandpa Tiberius."
He shifted in the chair, both arms folded flat on the table now as he faced Thor squarely. George Kirk and Donald Blake... Jim could see elements of both, an expression or a quirk that would trigger recognition, and he realized that both were more than a part to play... they were part of who Thor was. That knowledge was confusing, people who were totally separate in his mind blending into one. Disturbing, too, if he was honest. "Did you ever tell anyone on Earth what you are?"
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"When we met, perhaps..." Thor glanced aside again, finger tapping against the table. "Six--no, seven. Young enough to start school without trouble." Though it had still been difficult to explain away his appearance to their small extended family; Thor hadn't realized how much until he was older.
"...I told Tiberius and Julia soon after I remembered. Then your mother, after I flew back to San Francisco...other than that, I didn't see the need." And then he smiled to himself for a moment. "Guinan had known for centuries, through her own guess."
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His eyebrows rose, but Jim thought of the pictures he'd seen of his father, none of them younger than that. Had he ever asked or been told the reason why there were no baby pictures, nothing until school age? Jim couldn't remember. "When did you regain your memory?"
Jim frowned, leaning forward. "After you flew back? It was when you were in the Academy?"
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But then his expression softened as he remembered the point of recall - the scent of polished armor and leather, the feel of the cape between his fingers, the rich taste of one of Idunn's apples. "It happened in the spring of my third year...Loki had gotten bored, I think, so he left me a few gifts to encourage my memory, among other things."
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Changing someone's life twice, simply from boredom. Jim shook his head. "Did you think about leaving then?" It would've been easy, he thought. Less to tie him to Earth.
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"Why would I?" Thor asked, giving him a curious look. "Fifteen years hadn't changed the politics of Asgard. I didn't want to return anymore than I did when I left, aside from visiting my mother and Darcy." He could see the platters coming out from the hall, two servants carrying large silver trays and another carrying a small keg topped with two goblets.
"I would have stayed, Jim," he said while the servants were still out of earshot, "at least until you and Sam were grown men."
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