Frostbite

Space

"Am I in trouble?"

"Whyever would you believe so?"

"Bringing me aside, taking me to a secondary location against John Mulaney's sound advice."

"Who is John Mulaney? An authority figure?"

"More than half the teachers at my school, honestly."

Kvistr exhaled slightly through his nose, a smile playing on his lips. Were all Midgardians as curious as he? This guest was young and, in his own words, still attending mandatory schooling for youths in his realm, and yet there was a certain air about him that kept all the servant's eyes drawn. Kind and friendly and quick-witted and mature enough to mind his bearings in a foreign galaxy.

And was Prince Thor's son if Lady Sif and Sir Fandral were correct in their assumptions.

He snuck a peek at Peter's side profile, and hid his frown. He still was unsure about the claim.

"Your summoning was only a request. There will be no offense should you change your mind for refusal," Kvistr said as they reached the edges of the banquet hall. This side in particular curtained with long vines, lush beautiful flowers shimmering with the overflow of the Queen Mother's seidr that kept them in stasis, never a threat of withering with time. Some of the petals brushed past their faces at their approach and Peter's forehead scrunched as he rubbed at the parts of his skin that came into contact with them. A heightened sensitivity to the arcane, perhaps? He did not display the countenance of a sorcerer, but the facets of his abilities had yet to be revealed.

Either way, that did not matter much to him. Peter had saved him without thought and had not asked for anything in return. Not that he held the expectation that guests of the realm should worry themselves with bouts of courage, but it is his hope that those who resided on Midgard were much like him.

"Through here." Kvistr gestured to a resplendent glass door hidden slightly behind the vines, an opaque pearlescent sheen rippling across the surface. "And this is where I leave you."

"Thanks!" A pause. "But I'm really not in trouble, right?"

He pressed his lips together to hide his smile. "Correct."

"Cool, cool." Peter nodded and proceeded to hold out his fist in front of him. It was not in any offense or threat, merely hovering in the space between them. A few silent moments passed until, "Oh! This is, like, a thing on Midgard. It's used as a greeting or a goodbye or a what's up, so you hold out a fist too—" Kvistr followed the instruction and mirrored the movement— "and then it's just a tap!"

Peter bumped their fists together. It did not bruise nor sting, barely a brush of their knuckles.

"Like that!" He beamed. "Neat, right?"

"... Yes." Kvistr blinked down at his own hand. "Neat."

Peter grinned and waved as he stepped through the door and onto the balcony where the Queen Mother awaited.

He stood there for another moment more, staring at the closed door while his fingers still curled into a loose fist before he went to continue to attend the celebration. Perhaps after the guests were strewn across the floor and he and the other servants had finished cleaning up around them, he would ask if anyone would like to join him in picking a small bundle of fruits from the orchards.

::

Kvistr was a cool dude but Peter was almost positive that he was at least in a little bit of trouble. What for, though, was probably going to be a pain to find out. The human thing could be one reason, the rumors about him being related to Thor was another—which was wild as hell, by the way. Thor didn't even radiate dad vibes.