Chapter 7 - Paints and Pints

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"Why is this so difficult?" you groan, taking a step back and looking at the messy canvas in front of you.

"Lighter strokes, love. You're attacking the canvas. Lighten your hand," Loki croons over your shoulder, placing a light kiss on your cheek before sitting in a small lounge chair by the window.

"Like you could do any better," you grumble under your breath.

Loki doesn't respond, but you spot the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. You roll your eyes in frustration and turn your attention back to the paints to try again - to try and salvage something on your canvas. Normally, you wouldn't be facing half the struggle you are now. But these paints are definitely not Earthly paints. They aren't watercolors or acrylic - they're more like oil paints. But...not like oil paints on Midgard. They're waxier. Heavier. But they dry incredibly fast. And every time you try to add moisture back to the paints, they run in water-color like ribbons down the canvas, dripping onto the edge and down the legs of the easel.

It's nothing short of a paint-laden massacre.

But at least you're strong enough to stand and at least try to paint without any pain.

After the fight with Thor several days prior, you had spent several nights in a row in Loki's quarters. He had healed your cut cheek and the bruising on your stomach. But you had still been quite sore, and he had been tending to you as you recovered from the hits that you had taken on the dueling pitch.

He finally let you out of his room yesterday for dinner. And again this morning for breakfast. Upon returning to your own quarters you were surprised to find a large easel and several tubes of this ridiculously challenging demon paint elegantly set up in the corner of your room with a small note attached. It was a welcome gift from Frigga. Excited as you were to try and create something beautiful, perhaps to even give to her as a thank you, you quickly discovered that you aren't particularly skillful with whatever the hell this paint is made of.

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

Three rapid, meaty knocks at your door let you know instantly that Thor is on the other side.

"Come in!" you sing out, and Thor enters the room, dressed in his usual Asgardian armor and cape.

"My lady!" he grins, waltzing over to your bed and leaning against the post, casually tossing his hammer up and down. "I come to see how you recover from our bout?"

"I'm fine Thor," you laugh. "These paints are giving me a harder time than you did."

"You wound me, my lady!" Thor says, mimicking an arrow to the heart. You laugh as the blonde God comes up behind you to admire your work.

"Well, that is certainly...unique. Is it a horse, or a donkey that you attempt to paint?"

You snort, trying to contain your laughing as Loki narrows his eyes, focusing on his book.

"It's supposed to be Loki," you say in a hushed tone.

A smile alights on Thor's face. "Both asses my lady, you have captured his essence well."

Loki scowls from the chaise by the window. "A paragon of humor you are, brother," he grumbles below his breath, never looking up from the pages of his book.

"I and the Warrior's Three plan to journey to the Tavern tonight," Thor says, ignoring Loki. "Would you care to accompany us?" Thor asks you earnestly, his excited tone and wide eyes indicating his eagerness for you to join them.

"Yes!" you answer, thrilled to have somewhere to go other than the palace. "Can Loki come too?"

"My brother knows he is always welcome at my side, my lady."

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