A Second Chance // Thorki

Chapter Two

"Do you like to read, Mr. Loki?"

"I adore reading. It's one of my favourite pastimes. Will you show me your favourite book? Perhaps we have similar tastes in literature."
Loki's tone was gentle, and there wasn't even a trace of sarcasm in his words. He was being as genuine as possible, as gentle as he could be with this child, who, if he was human, would be no older than nine years of age. Loki had sat himself down in a corner, the colourful room far too bright for his tastes, talking and playing with the older children the best he could. There was one little girl who cried at the sight of him, but other than that, all of the children seemed to flock in his direction.

Loki, for the first time in a long while, was rather confused. Why would these children willingly go near him? Willingly attempt to play and make conversation with him?

It took him over half of his first day in the little orphanage to realize that it was because children are far more forgiving than adults. These children knew what he had done, yet also knew that he was doing his best to make up for it. Loki had done some bad things, yes, but he wasn't a bad man. These kids could feel that.

"This is my favourite book," Albin dropped the storybook in Loki's lap before flopping down beside him, leaning against the wall as he showed the man his favourite story. It was a simple little thing, and it looked like one from Midgard- with big, bright pictures and only a few sentences on each page.

"This seems interesting enough... the only problem is, I have no idea how to read this!" A clear lie, although Albin seemed to buy into it.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Truthfully?"

"Truthfully. So I suppose you'll just have to read it for me, hmmm? Perhaps I may be able to help decipher some of the words for you. What language is this in, elvish?" Loki raised an eyebrow, handing Albin the thin and colourful book.

The boy giggled, deep brown eyes so dark they were almost similar to the night sky sparkling joyfully. "It's in English!"

"That's a tricky language. I only know how to read Norse." Loki found a warmth in him tugging up the corners of his mouth, a smile sliding on to his face, a genuine one. "What's the title?"

"The what?"

"What's the book called, Albin?"

"Oh, it's called 'The Sneetches'. It is a very fantas-ma-riffic book!" Albin's grin was wide and genuine, and he scooted closer to Loki as he opened up the book, the inside just as colourful as the outside.

Loki found himself rather surprised by the hotchpotch of a word, and then even more surprised when Albin reached over and took the man's hand in his own. Albin's hand was far smaller than Loki's, almost half the size, and the boy's rich and beautiful coffee coloured skin was a startling difference compared to Loki's pale, porcelain hand.

"Fantas-ma-riffic indeed." Loki whispered, a genuine smile on his lips.

Thor found himself feeling rather... shaken, astonished at how quickly Loki had gone from the homicidal maniac Thor had thought the trickster had become, to a gentle man, Thor's Brother, who liked to read and learn, and play with the rabbits in the palace gardens. Watching through the glass of the make-shift orphanage, Thor found himself placing both hands on the glass and leaning up to it, watching with obvious interest as this man, no... this boy he'd grown up with, listened to a small child reading a story.

"The star-bellied Sneetches had bellies with stars," Albin had read aloud, his finger following each word as he went along. "But the plain-bellied Sneetches had none upon thars." Albin took a moment to take in the bright pictures on each page before he carefully turned it, the big yellow birds known as Sneetches with or without green stars on their bellies appearing on every page.