He did! Astronomy was a significant hobby of his, inspired by Frigga’s habit of showing and tracing the stars for her child-sons during the warm, summer months. He had equipment on his balcony for watching the star patterns and tracking the equinoxes of Asgard’s seasons. He was a dabbler in ancient history. Discrepancies and forgotten ancestral figures drew him, and anything that touched on the pasts of sorcerers and seidr were guaranteed to have his attention. He sketched and tinkered, and aside from creating fully functioning model of the Bifrost in his chambers, designed magical devices to hold enchantments and maintain his rooms when he was not present. He collected; books, knives, rare ingredients, knowledge...

Loki looked up, casting a sweeping glance over the sky above their heads. The view was most certainly spectacular. It always had been. Asgard ever had a myriad of stars, distant planets, and rich, vivid nebulae in a tableau before it, and once, many of his nights had been spent charting the path of stars and celestial bodies as they carved their seasonal path through space before them. 

“Indeed it is.” He murmured. The universe, in all its splendor, seemed so cold and relentless when one fell through it, instead of gazing on it like a distant admirer. Its color no longer mattered, only that it was light, and he was far from it. It became even more unfeeling when one stared at it for months; stared out from utter darkness into a strange pattern of stars that offered no hope and only echoed back his agonized screams.

“Okay.”

All it took to still Laerke was the four worded request. With her offer to leave and give him space declined, she stood in the middle of the room uncertain of how exactly to proceed.

Send me one of the following for a journal entry from my muse.

✂ - A message my muse wrote after not having written for a while, possibly because they lost the journal or because they have been busy with other things. 

Well, it appears I owe my brothers the biggest apology I can muster.

How exactly my journal ended up in the bottom of my locked chest of childhood performance dresses is still a mystery but I am choosing to take on the responsibility of blame.

In absolutely no way will I even consider that any one of my wonderful brothers could have hidden my journal in an impossible location in an attempt to cover up its prolonged absence. Such a scheme is certainly inconceivable.

I will have to be more careful in order to ensure that this WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.

But here we are, reunited at last.

Though much has happened since I last had the opportunity to write most of it has not been particularly noteworthy. My lessons continued in their usual fashion. I have to admit I have become a bit bored with most of them. It’s not that I have become apathetic and I understand their importance...it just all seems to be blending together. Is this what Loki meant when he warned me not to get “burnt out”?

A change of pace should do the trick, I hope.

Participating in court is slowly becoming a very distasteful affair.

Darri Iwanson has not ceased in dropping hints that he will soon ask permission to court me. It is as if he expects that I have forgotten his backhanded compliment about how I “bring out the best in men” in his drunken rambling about how “generous” a man would have to be in order to court me despite my “stained childhood”.

He has nothing to offer me in ways of political ties or personal happiness and I will be quite pleased to send him on his way. Mother and I will be going on a ride together later in the week, perhaps I will ask for her advice on weeding out ill-intended suitors.

Oh! I think we may have finally found a weapon that I will actually enjoy using! Weapons master Hafsteinn had me practicing with a staff recently and I much prefer the flow of its movements. 

Though there is still the problem of close contact when fighting I’ve found it much easier to apply my other self defense strategies than when I fight with a sword. Once I have a better grasp on the technique he will allow me to train on the spear as well.

I still have no plans to become a warrior but everyone agrees that I have made great progress in being able to defend myself.

Send 🍻for our muses to end up getting drunk together

The days after Asgard’s mighty victories in battle were dedicated to celebration. Cups were never left empty, music never paused, and cheers and laughter always echoed off the walls of the palace.

For the first time in what seemed like forever the princess of Asgard joined the merriment with an open heart. She had much to celebrate for her husband had returned to her, whole and unharmed this time. 

Laerke had been pulled away from her husband upon their entry into the feasting hall by her eldest brother. Apparently it was Thor’s turn to have the privilege of Laerke’s first dance. His dance turned into another and then she found herself trapped in two separate conversations before she could make her escape.

“Tyr! Look at my crown!” she giggled in greeting as she ran back to him. A rose crown rested sideways atop her head, skewing even farther with each step. She held a half full mug of spiked cider which was not the cause of the sparkle in her eye.

Laerke was not near dancing on the table tops yet, but the night was still young. 

MARVEL’S JESSICA JONES sentence meme.

“Oh? Is that what you think that sounded like?” she questioned with an ill concealed grin as she continued down the steps at a leisurely pace. Her hands clasped behind her back in a classic posture of innocence. As she came to the last steps she hopped down and gave Tyr a playful curtsy.

sleep sentence starters

Loki almost snapped. But the annoyed verbal response died on his lips as swiftly as it had come, for he realized that it would only stand to prove Týr‘s point. He was tired and thus irritable, and that was no more the god of justice’s fault than Sigyn or Kenna’s.

He doubted Týr was the most well rested being either, but he did know better than most why Loki’s nights were sometimes robbed of sleep.

“I will. Later...” He murmured, diverting his gaze.