[ He smooths his hand over Loki's hair affectionately before figuring out the best way to step up into the cradle of Loki's hands while also letting him fling a leg over Sleipnir's wide back. Taking a moment to get settled, he leans forward and strokes his hand up Sleipnir's huge neck, murmuring to him. ]
[ The way Sleipnir rears up on four legs and whinnies in excitement to have a new rider says it all (Loki may spread his arms on instinct, just in case!). The stallion leaps into a canter, leaving Loki in the dust to cough and wave them off. ]
[ Luckily for the structural integrity of his spine, Chris has been on more than one horse that's decided to rear up on its back legs, so Sleipnir getting a little too excited is met with little more than a short yelp as he adjusts his balance and then a whoop of almost childlike excitement as he breaks into a canter and goes careening off.
Hopefully Loki doesn't mind being left in the dust with just the sound of Chris's laughter and two perfectly normal horses for company. ]
[ Loki plants his hands on his hips and gives them one last look before heading over to the paddock, settling in the horses for the evening. He spends the rest of his time prepping dinner (roast boar and honeyed potatoes with veg!) with ingredients from his own apartment. The house fills once again with the scent of food and he pulls a blanket over his knees, reading through some more of Chris's books.
Sleipnir takes Chris up the mountain, able to cross any treacherous trail with an extra four legs looking out for them. He leaps over fallen logs and gallops so fast across the plains that his hooves kick up sparks, but he heeds his mother and always ensures Chris is safely planted in the saddle; no falling into random dimensional rifts. It's a very smooth ride, given his whole body moves with the rippling motion of eight legs.
The giant horse only stops when he finds a little waterfall far up the mountainside, keen to drink and have some grass. Sweat covers his flanks and he gives a snort to Chris, inviting him off for a bit. ]
[ When he was a little boy, Chris couldn't imagine a life better than one like this: just him and his horse — currently borrowed from his boyfriend, but Chris as a child couldn't conceptualize an eight-legged inter-dimensional stallion, so whatever — and the wide open sky above them, the freedom inherent in a gallop across the landscape before them, alone against the world together.
As a child, that landscape had been the desert, not a flat Montana plain, but the principle's the same, and he feels the same giddy glee he remembers from his youth as he clings to Sleipnir's mane and lets the stallion have his head as he thunders along.
He slides off Sleipnir's back to land on wobbly legs once they get to that waterfall, his heart still thundering in his chest and his breath coming quick in his lungs, adrenaline coursing through him even though the thrill of the gallop is starting to fade now that they're stationary again. ]
That was incredible, buddy. [ He leans a companionable hand on Sleipnir's shoulder as he regains his balance for a moment, fighting down the urge to giggle for no reason. ] Even if it might have been a little boring for you. I appreciate you looking out for me.
[ Now it's Chris's turn to look out for the horse he joked was his step-son, so he rips up some of that same grass and sets to rubbing those massive legs down, buffing away the sweat and checking for injuries out of habit. ]
[ Sleipnir is glad to be brushed down, eating grass peacefully. He keeps his ears pricked for sounds of wildlife but his scent drives away anything too big, being the biggest predator around.
Back home, Loki continues nosing around Chris's house once his books lose their pull on his interest. ]
I hope you don't mind if I don't take this off right now, [ he says as he checks the straps of the saddle spanning that huge barrel chest, falling back into his habit of talking to his horse like Sleipnir isn't the size of a house and has eight legs but is instead a perfectly ordinary stallion who can't understand him and doesn't care what he does with himself. ] I'm not sure I can get it back on by myself and I'm a little too small to ride you bareback, especially at your usual cruising speed.
[ He keeps up a steady stream of mostly ignorable chatter as he rubs Sleipnir down, carefully checking the huge stallion for anything concerning but finding nothing to worry about, and finally sits himself down on the rocks beside the waterfall to reach out and scoop up some water for himself, too.
Leaning back against the rock behind him, he alternates watching Sleipnir much on the grasses that grow nearby and looking out across the scenery. ] I'm really very fond of him, you know. Your mother. He...is very important to me. [ He plucks a blade of grass for himself, fiddling with the spike on top before picking one seed out at a time and flicking it away. ] I hope he knows that.
[ Sleipnir's ears prick toward Chris as he talks, listening. Pacing up quietly behind him (surprisingly easy for such a huge beast), he lowers his head to sniff at Chris's shoulder, huffing hot breaths. He moves away a moment later, clopping around the side of the waterfall to munch on some reeds.
If Chris keeps an eye on him, in the mist of the rising water droplets and through the gleam of the sunshine the hulking horse shimmers and between sparkles he looks like an extremely tall, dark-haired man, a black cloak reaching to the ground and a huge sword strapped down his back. He looks like Loki, if Loki had a jaw to crack walnuts and thick biceps laden with black, spiked armour that matches the saddle.
Then as he glances over, the vision shifts back and Sleipnir is back to being a horse, looking at Chris steadily. ]
[ Chris blinks at the giant horse staring at him placidly, thinking for a moment that he's hallucinating. Maybe it's altitude sickness, except that's clearly not a problem for him right now, and the only thing he's eaten lately has been food he's cooked himself. Maybe something in the water? But even some kind of parasite wouldn't act on his system that quickly.
No, this is probably something to do with Loki and his magic, and while Chris feels woefully out of his depth, he tries to rally himself. ]
I really wish you spoke English. Or that I could understand you somehow. Because I could swear you looked like a man for a second.
[ Sleipnir snorts and shakes out his mane, taking another drink. Three hooves paw at the ground but he looks entirely normal ... for an eight-legged horse. ]
[ Sleipnir noses his way across the grass, tail swishing. Looks like he's ready to get back on the trail, stomping impatiently as he finishes munching a mouthful of grass. ]
[ Brushing his hands off on his legs, Chris levers himself up to his feet and then brushes his ass off too for good measure, giving Sleipnir one last curious look before approaching him. ]
Mind if you come over here, pal? I can use these rocks as a boost to get up on your back. Probably. Unless you feel like kneeling a little to make it easier for me to reach...
[ The horse's blithe gaze sharpens as his ears flick forward and he tosses his mane again. All four legs in the middle kneel, allowing Chris to climb on with ease. ]
[ Watching Sleipnir settle himself down after Chris asked him to has him laughing quietly, taking the time to reach in and scratch under his forelock affectionately before hoisting himself up into the saddle. Reaching in to pat Sleipnir's neck, he lets him know he's settled and they can go. ]
[ There he goes, up safe and sound. Sleipnir glances around to double-check Chris is on securely then trots impatiently on the spot, eager to be off. For now, he'll let Chris direct them ... ]
[ Leaning over Sleipnir's massive neck, Chris directs him in the low murmur he automatically uses with horses even though he knows that it's really not necessary with him, aware enough of Sleipnir's intelligence hat he'll hold a one-sided conversation with him but still not quite able to get over his general horsieness to give up all his habits. He shows them around some of his favorite spots in the countryside surrounding his home, allowing himself to marvel at them in a way he doesn't normally because he's as much as tourist as he is a guide today. ]
[ Sleipnir is a good horsey-horse for Chris for fifteen minutes or so before he sees his chance. It's not that he intends to be bad, but his mother's rules are so boring and he doubts Chris will mind ...
He veers off-course toward a steep hill, gaining speed toward the top where it sheers off, and ignoring any protests from his rider he leaps off the edge.
Hooves glow like a rainbow as they kick up bright sparks and Sleipnir neighs his pleasure as he gallops through the air, racing over the treetops feet below. He can ascend whenever he wishes to with a jump, gaining on the clouds above. ]
[ Just when he thinks he's more or less developed a rapport with Loki's son, Chris gets thrown the curveball that is Sleipnir flat-out sprinting towards a sharp drop, feigning a very convincing case of deafness considering he just spent the last quarter-hour with one ear cocked backwards to listen to Chris talk to him.
Tangling his fingers in Sleipnir's mane — fuck the reins, the reins won't save him now and he's pretty sure they weren't even doing anything before anyway — Chris yelps in alarm and does his best to remember the physics of terminal velocity and how best to survive a fall from a very high height when...
They go sailing along, Sleipnir's eight hooves barely skimming the tops of the trees below, sparking and vibrant and glowing with magic as he neighs happily, undoubtedly incredibly pleased with himself. After a few minutes of trying to convince his heart rate to steady, Chris can admit that this is pretty fun, too, and he starts to look around instead of squeezing his eyes shut in terror, though his grip on Sleipnir's mane doesn't really relax at all. Better safe than sorry, right? ]
[ Dashing for the clouds, Sleipnir takes advantage of the slackened reins to toss his head and, indeed, look very pleased with himself (as much as a horse can). The damp chill smothers his flanks and Chris's clothes as they break the cloud-line, the world transforming into a fluffy tundra of sunset peaches and pinks where the only other company is a few stray birds gliding home for the evening.
It's cold, but it's beautiful. Sleipnir makes sure he can feel his passenger seated securely after every jump over rolling nimbuses. ]
Edited (what are phone tags) 2022-07-21 14:10 (UTC)
[ Loki's dire warnings about bringing a jacket even though the weather is mild are proving to be prescient; Chris is no stranger to flying, even flying happily through soft, cold, damp clouds, but usually he does all his flying safely ensconced inside some sort of aircraft or other. Not, surprisingly enough, on the back of an eight-legged stallion who can understand English even if he pretends not to.
For all that he spends the majority of his year exploring uncharted space and documenting the miracles he sees there, Chris is not immune to beauty, something that's all too evident as he looks around with a gentle sort of awe. ]
[ He slows a little so the air isn't such a fiercely whipping force, snorting his agreement. It's much nicer up here and the horizon looks like an endless pastel plain. Eventually, after Chris has had the tour, Sleipnir whinnies and his hooves hit harder (on what exactly is to be debated), kicking up sparks that travel ahead like lightning to form an archway, then a portal.
Saving Chris the stomach-churning descent as the mortal is a decent sort and that feels like enough tricks for the day, Sleipnir rides through. Quite suddenly they are back on the ground, specifically the plain a-ways behind Chris's house near a treeline where shady, misbehaved horses can portal in without being seen. ]
[ Chris has seen Loki travel through his green shimmering portals more than once, but he's never had any personal experience with them. If he was ever asked what they might feel like, he'd probably liken them to a transporter, or maybe come up with some way to explain a shiver going down his spine, some sort of sparkle or tingle or something.
He didn't expect it to feel so abrupt. One moment he and Sleipnir are coasting above the clouds, the next, all eight of the stallion's hooves are back on the ground and Chris is left blinking at a copse of trees, acutely aware of the mist clinging to his clothes and his hair the way he's clinging to Sleipnir's mane. ]
[ A rumble from the horse sounds pleased with Chris's assessment and he trots up toward the paddock as if the best behaved boy in the world, tail swishing. It's much darker on land than in the air and the sunset seems closer to dying so he makes a b-line for the other horses. ]
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[ Loki laces his fingers and crouches down a little so Chris can get a boost up. ]
Sleipnir, this is the last time I'll say it: behave.
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[ He smooths his hand over Loki's hair affectionately before figuring out the best way to step up into the cradle of Loki's hands while also letting him fling a leg over Sleipnir's wide back. Taking a moment to get settled, he leans forward and strokes his hand up Sleipnir's huge neck, murmuring to him. ]
Alright, kiddo. You ready to have some fun?
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... Have fun!
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Hopefully Loki doesn't mind being left in the dust with just the sound of Chris's laughter and two perfectly normal horses for company. ]
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[ Loki plants his hands on his hips and gives them one last look before heading over to the paddock, settling in the horses for the evening. He spends the rest of his time prepping dinner (roast boar and honeyed potatoes with veg!) with ingredients from his own apartment. The house fills once again with the scent of food and he pulls a blanket over his knees, reading through some more of Chris's books.
Sleipnir takes Chris up the mountain, able to cross any treacherous trail with an extra four legs looking out for them. He leaps over fallen logs and gallops so fast across the plains that his hooves kick up sparks, but he heeds his mother and always ensures Chris is safely planted in the saddle; no falling into random dimensional rifts. It's a very smooth ride, given his whole body moves with the rippling motion of eight legs.
The giant horse only stops when he finds a little waterfall far up the mountainside, keen to drink and have some grass. Sweat covers his flanks and he gives a snort to Chris, inviting him off for a bit. ]
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As a child, that landscape had been the desert, not a flat Montana plain, but the principle's the same, and he feels the same giddy glee he remembers from his youth as he clings to Sleipnir's mane and lets the stallion have his head as he thunders along.
He slides off Sleipnir's back to land on wobbly legs once they get to that waterfall, his heart still thundering in his chest and his breath coming quick in his lungs, adrenaline coursing through him even though the thrill of the gallop is starting to fade now that they're stationary again. ]
That was incredible, buddy. [ He leans a companionable hand on Sleipnir's shoulder as he regains his balance for a moment, fighting down the urge to giggle for no reason. ] Even if it might have been a little boring for you. I appreciate you looking out for me.
[ Now it's Chris's turn to look out for the horse he joked was his step-son, so he rips up some of that same grass and sets to rubbing those massive legs down, buffing away the sweat and checking for injuries out of habit. ]
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Back home, Loki continues nosing around Chris's house once his books lose their pull on his interest. ]
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[ He keeps up a steady stream of mostly ignorable chatter as he rubs Sleipnir down, carefully checking the huge stallion for anything concerning but finding nothing to worry about, and finally sits himself down on the rocks beside the waterfall to reach out and scoop up some water for himself, too.
Leaning back against the rock behind him, he alternates watching Sleipnir much on the grasses that grow nearby and looking out across the scenery. ] I'm really very fond of him, you know. Your mother. He...is very important to me. [ He plucks a blade of grass for himself, fiddling with the spike on top before picking one seed out at a time and flicking it away. ] I hope he knows that.
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If Chris keeps an eye on him, in the mist of the rising water droplets and through the gleam of the sunshine the hulking horse shimmers and between sparkles he looks like an extremely tall, dark-haired man, a black cloak reaching to the ground and a huge sword strapped down his back. He looks like Loki, if Loki had a jaw to crack walnuts and thick biceps laden with black, spiked armour that matches the saddle.
Then as he glances over, the vision shifts back and Sleipnir is back to being a horse, looking at Chris steadily. ]
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No, this is probably something to do with Loki and his magic, and while Chris feels woefully out of his depth, he tries to rally himself. ]
I really wish you spoke English. Or that I could understand you somehow. Because I could swear you looked like a man for a second.
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This is something I'm going to have to ask your mother about, isn't it.
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Mind if you come over here, pal? I can use these rocks as a boost to get up on your back. Probably. Unless you feel like kneeling a little to make it easier for me to reach...
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He veers off-course toward a steep hill, gaining speed toward the top where it sheers off, and ignoring any protests from his rider he leaps off the edge.
Hooves glow like a rainbow as they kick up bright sparks and Sleipnir neighs his pleasure as he gallops through the air, racing over the treetops feet below. He can ascend whenever he wishes to with a jump, gaining on the clouds above. ]
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Tangling his fingers in Sleipnir's mane — fuck the reins, the reins won't save him now and he's pretty sure they weren't even doing anything before anyway — Chris yelps in alarm and does his best to remember the physics of terminal velocity and how best to survive a fall from a very high height when...
They go sailing along, Sleipnir's eight hooves barely skimming the tops of the trees below, sparking and vibrant and glowing with magic as he neighs happily, undoubtedly incredibly pleased with himself. After a few minutes of trying to convince his heart rate to steady, Chris can admit that this is pretty fun, too, and he starts to look around instead of squeezing his eyes shut in terror, though his grip on Sleipnir's mane doesn't really relax at all. Better safe than sorry, right? ]
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It's cold, but it's beautiful. Sleipnir makes sure he can feel his passenger seated securely after every jump over rolling nimbuses. ]
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For all that he spends the majority of his year exploring uncharted space and documenting the miracles he sees there, Chris is not immune to beauty, something that's all too evident as he looks around with a gentle sort of awe. ]
Oh.
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Saving Chris the stomach-churning descent as the mortal is a decent sort and that feels like enough tricks for the day, Sleipnir rides through. Quite suddenly they are back on the ground, specifically the plain a-ways behind Chris's house near a treeline where shady, misbehaved horses can portal in without being seen. ]
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He didn't expect it to feel so abrupt. One moment he and Sleipnir are coasting above the clouds, the next, all eight of the stallion's hooves are back on the ground and Chris is left blinking at a copse of trees, acutely aware of the mist clinging to his clothes and his hair the way he's clinging to Sleipnir's mane. ]
Well. That was...incredible.
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