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Loki goes instantly where Huan tells her. She has a safety against landing intersected with solid objects, her or any of her belongings, so dramatic as it would be she can't just appear with her opponent already impaled. She has to actually stab him.
So she stabs him, spikes him from there. And hollows out Lævateinn and channels ice into the wound.
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purposeful_glory
Okay.
purposeful_glory
And now she and Maedhros are out in the place where Himring was briefly located and is no longer. "Do you want to fly or just sit or what?"
He sits down, rests his head between his knees. "Can I get back to you on that? How long do we have?"
purposeful_glory
"She didn't list a time limit. We've got leave to do whatever except have you meeting your family without me present."
"I can't go home, they'd take one look at me and call the whole thing off."
"I could go to whatever the Nolofinweans are calling their city but I don't know if Lúthien considers that my family too."
purposeful_glory
"Didn't specify. Technically you're allowed to talk to them if I'm there though. Presumably it would violate the spirit if I just stood there while you osanwëd people."
"I don't want to scheme things. That's kind of the opposite of what I want to do. I want to have a social interaction where the fate of the world or at least my family or at least my continuing to not be tortured isn't at stake."
purposeful_glory
"- first thing to come to mind is that I could go borrow somebody's toddler."
"Do toddlers count as social interaction for you? They don't for me."
He stands. "I want Findekáno."
"Mithrim. His rooms, it'll be a disaster if anyone sees us - I know you have to supervise, it's not going to be like that -"
purposeful_glory
"Thank you." She'd probably combust or something. She pops into whichever of Fingon's rooms seems least likely to have him in it unequipped to receive a visitor.
He's not there. Maedhros is staring around the room fondly, He's coming.
purposeful_glory
Loki nods and finds somewhere not obtrusively looming to sit.
He comes in.
"Loki's chaperoning," Maedhros says, as if the words are complicated and have to be said very precisely. "I needed a break."
"Yeah. You need to lie down. If we put four blankets between us will that -"
"Bit stifling, maybe."
"We can put them all on me, I'm always cold."
Maedhros flinches. Fingon finds four blankets and wraps them around himself in an absurd cocoon and waits until his cousin has crawled into bed and then curls up around him. "Why do we have a chaperone?"
"Not for that reason. It's complicated."
"You should try doing things with your life that are less complicated."
"When the war's over -"
"The infuriating thing is that when the war's over I can't even take you somewhere uncomplicated and sit on you for five hundred years because you'll be traumatized."
"Yes, I would be. But you could take me somewhere uncomplicated and then insist you were staying yourself and trust me to be unwilling to leave."
"I trust you to be a lot of things. ...not unwilling to leave me."
"If you like I will stay right here until we all die."
"I don't think I'd like that at all."
"That's why I offered."
"Vacuously true promises. That's a new one."
"I told Loki I came here because I wanted an interaction where nothing was at stake."
"That was a fine thing to tell Loki but you should tell me it's because you missed my eyes, or my smile, or my personality, or something."
"I need you to stop putting things at stake because right now I can't handle it."
"I haven't been."
"Are we - not at stake, then?"
"We're just waiting on you."
"Might be a while."
"I have a while. Not right now, technically; I marched right out of a meeting and will be missed."
"I didn't ask you to do that."
"You're pretty dreadful at communicating for someone with a reputation for diplomacy."
"Diplomacy isn't about communication."
"Maitimo - I've never been the one putting stakes on the table."
"I know."
"I figured out eventually that saying I'd always be back at the table was my way of taking something off of it. I suppose you know you're thoroughly ensnared when the best way to defy someone you can think of is to love him unconditionally."
"I used to be so proud of myself for that. Of how thorough it was and how easy it had been."
"I know. And knew at the time, actually."
"...I didn't know that."
"You have some blind spots, Maitimo."
"More of them now."
"Why do we have a chaperone?"
"Lúthien is worried I am plotting with my family to assassinate her father."
"...and I'm helping?"
"You count as family."
"I am very pointedly not Fëanáro's kin for Oath-related arbitration."
"Once we get married I wonder if he'll relent on that."
"I wonder if you'll still count."
"I will."
"Because when it mattered you always chose him?"
"Because I am a lot like him."
"Mmmmm."
"You don't see it."
"Not at all."
"Neither of us are very good at being people but we're good at some other things that you can substitute for it. Both of us end up being unsparing of people because we don't know how to be sparing with ourselves. Both of us confuse love with power, I think."
"He's all right, I suppose."
"That wasn't really where I was going with that."
"...he's pretty attractive?"
"Findekáno!"
"You both have dreadful taste in names?"
"Fingon is a very ugly word and I think you should have just picked an epessë."
"You are welcome to give me one. I'll invent a different story about where I got it."
"Thindarin's not a pretty enough language."
And they lie there peaceably for another while longer and then Maedhros says, "Thank you, Loki, I'm ready to go back."
"Loki's chaperoning," Maedhros says, as if the words are complicated and have to be said very precisely. "I needed a break."
"Yeah. You need to lie down. If we put four blankets between us will that -"
"Bit stifling, maybe."
"We can put them all on me, I'm always cold."
Maedhros flinches. Fingon finds four blankets and wraps them around himself in an absurd cocoon and waits until his cousin has crawled into bed and then curls up around him. "Why do we have a chaperone?"
"Not for that reason. It's complicated."
"You should try doing things with your life that are less complicated."
"When the war's over -"
"The infuriating thing is that when the war's over I can't even take you somewhere uncomplicated and sit on you for five hundred years because you'll be traumatized."
"Yes, I would be. But you could take me somewhere uncomplicated and then insist you were staying yourself and trust me to be unwilling to leave."
"I trust you to be a lot of things. ...not unwilling to leave me."
"If you like I will stay right here until we all die."
"I don't think I'd like that at all."
"That's why I offered."
"Vacuously true promises. That's a new one."
"I told Loki I came here because I wanted an interaction where nothing was at stake."
"That was a fine thing to tell Loki but you should tell me it's because you missed my eyes, or my smile, or my personality, or something."
"I need you to stop putting things at stake because right now I can't handle it."
"I haven't been."
"Are we - not at stake, then?"
"We're just waiting on you."
"Might be a while."
"I have a while. Not right now, technically; I marched right out of a meeting and will be missed."
"I didn't ask you to do that."
"You're pretty dreadful at communicating for someone with a reputation for diplomacy."
"Diplomacy isn't about communication."
"Maitimo - I've never been the one putting stakes on the table."
"I know."
"I figured out eventually that saying I'd always be back at the table was my way of taking something off of it. I suppose you know you're thoroughly ensnared when the best way to defy someone you can think of is to love him unconditionally."
"I used to be so proud of myself for that. Of how thorough it was and how easy it had been."
"I know. And knew at the time, actually."
"...I didn't know that."
"You have some blind spots, Maitimo."
"More of them now."
"Why do we have a chaperone?"
"Lúthien is worried I am plotting with my family to assassinate her father."
"...and I'm helping?"
"You count as family."
"I am very pointedly not Fëanáro's kin for Oath-related arbitration."
"Once we get married I wonder if he'll relent on that."
"I wonder if you'll still count."
"I will."
"Because when it mattered you always chose him?"
"Because I am a lot like him."
"Mmmmm."
"You don't see it."
"Not at all."
"Neither of us are very good at being people but we're good at some other things that you can substitute for it. Both of us end up being unsparing of people because we don't know how to be sparing with ourselves. Both of us confuse love with power, I think."
"He's all right, I suppose."
"That wasn't really where I was going with that."
"...he's pretty attractive?"
"Findekáno!"
"You both have dreadful taste in names?"
"Fingon is a very ugly word and I think you should have just picked an epessë."
"You are welcome to give me one. I'll invent a different story about where I got it."
"Thindarin's not a pretty enough language."
And they lie there peaceably for another while longer and then Maedhros says, "Thank you, Loki, I'm ready to go back."
purposeful_glory
(Loki only half-listens to the conversation; she does notebooking - with a background between her and them; Maedhros can read Asgardian - while they're having their cocoonful snuggle.) She looks up when he says her name. "All right." And she pops them back.
And unless she can pop very precisely they're going to need Lúthien to come restrain him again.
purposeful_glory
She can actually pop that precisely, as long as the chain is somewhere the applicable extremity can fit and not lying on the ground. Takes two pops.
Even easier. Lúthien comes back and says she thinks she can talk her father around on the chain but probably not today, sorry, is he too uncomfortable?
He is positively glowing. "No, I'll be all right. Thank you."
He is positively glowing. "No, I'll be all right. Thank you."