"A shame," Loki intones, but he is actually quite proud of Clint for realizing Loki would win a race at this rate.
Their hands are connected and Loki takes his time pointing out parts of the capitol city as they walk. Here is the marketplace, here is the training years just beyond that gate, here are the stables, etcetera, etcetera. "Do you know how to ride? I could teach you."
There's a woman at the gate connecting the path from where they arrived to the castle, surrounded by a handful of ladies-in-waiting who bow toward Loki as he approaches with Clint. Frigga opens her arms in greeting and, reluctantly, Loki let's go fo Clint's hand in order to be hugged by his mother. "Please don't send him away," he whispers into her hair, more pleading than he'd like to admit; Frigga merely shushes him and then, with one arm around Loki's shoulders, opens another arm out toward Clint. "Welcome to Asgard, Clint Barton, son of Edith. Are you hungry?"
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Their hands are connected and Loki takes his time pointing out parts of the capitol city as they walk. Here is the marketplace, here is the training years just beyond that gate, here are the stables, etcetera, etcetera. "Do you know how to ride? I could teach you."
There's a woman at the gate connecting the path from where they arrived to the castle, surrounded by a handful of ladies-in-waiting who bow toward Loki as he approaches with Clint. Frigga opens her arms in greeting and, reluctantly, Loki let's go fo Clint's hand in order to be hugged by his mother. "Please don't send him away," he whispers into her hair, more pleading than he'd like to admit; Frigga merely shushes him and then, with one arm around Loki's shoulders, opens another arm out toward Clint. "Welcome to Asgard, Clint Barton, son of Edith. Are you hungry?"