Just a fanfic idea I was playing around with. Snapshots from Loki's Childhood.
Frigga was no longer irked at the sight of her youngest wandering the castle alone. Even at the tender age of five, Loki had proven himself to be quite good at slipping away from his nursemaid, and even better at making excuses for it.
"Oh but mother, I thought she was right behind me. She doesn't talk much, you know."
"She fell asleep, mother, and I didn't want to bother her. She's been awfully tired, and I can look after myself."
He had the face of a valkyrie, and the quick-tongue of a demon. Today he seemed preoccupied by something in his hands, although she couldn't make out what from this distance.
"Loki." She called out, startling the boy. He spun around, hiding his hands behind his back guiltily.
"Oh. H-hello mother." He stammered guilitly.
"Where is your nursemaid, son?" Her voice was cool, she watched his face as he looked for an explanation.
"Well, you see mother," he began, fixing his soft green eyes on her, "Thor hurt himself. And Helva was busy taking care of him, so I thought I would go to the kitchen and see if I could find some sweets to cheer him up." He pulled his hands out, revealing two sugared pastries.
Frigga smiled at the explanation. Clever, very clever. "That's very noble of you Loki, but you shouldn't leave Helva. She gets in trouble when you leave."
"I know." Loki replied, furrowing his brow, "I just wanted to make Thor feel better."
She crouched down to be at his level, wondering at the slyness of her son. He always knew what to say to get out of trouble, and when he didn't he learned quickly. Looking into his innocent eyes, she smiled and stroked his head, "Shall we go find them then?"
--
The dusty tome of a book dwarfed the boy, making him appear smaller than he already was. He spent much of his time in the library, pouring over ancient manuscripts of spells and legends. Though small in stature for his age, he made up for it with his mind, ancient with overuse. He appeared to not notice Frigga walk up to him, although he gave no start when she spoke.
"My son, what are you doing here?" she asked softly, knowing the answer.
"Reading, mother. Is it so foreign to you?" he responded, never lifting his eyes from the page.
"Did I not send you out with your brother?" his eyes stopped moving for a second, an instant of vulnerability that Frigga did not miss.
"I did not wish to play with Thor or his friends." Loki responded quietly, trying hard to keep the hurt out of his voice, "I much prefer to read." a half truth, if that. Loki may have loved reading about great heroes of old, but Frigga knew he had much more fun pretending he was one with his brother.
"Thor, what did I tell you about including your brother?" Frigga spoke firmly, but not harshly. At twelve years old, he already fancied himself a man. He had grown tall, but not gangly, unlike many boys his age.
"But mother," Thor whined, lapsing into the habits of his youth, "Loki only slows us down. He is too young for our games."
"Then perhaps you should invent games to include your brother." She responded, crossing her arms, "A king would find a way to include everyone." This was Frigga's ace-in-the-hole. She could almost see the gears turning in her eldest son’s head as he chewed this over.
"Yes mother." He managed glumly, and, with prompting, marched over to where Loki was sitting. Frigga watched the exchange between her two sons; Thor reluctant, but recognizing what was right, Loki secretly pleased at the invitation. It wasn't long before they were racing out of the library, brandishing imaginary weapons. As they passed, Frigga overheard Thor yell back to Loki, "Come brother, the frost giants aren't going to kill themselves!"
The smile dropped from Frigga's face.
---
Odin was surprised to find Loki, not Thor, in the training area so late at night. Loki was as fair as any Asgardian when it came to fighting, but his heart was that of a scholar's. Odin was even more surprised to see the weapon that Loki was struggling with.
"The hammer is Thor's weapon, not yours." He startled the boy who was so difficult to sneak up on. Loki dropped his stance and spun around to face his father.
"I didn't realize you were watching me father." He said meekly, arms held tightly to his side, head down, "I thought I would try it out."
Odin looked closely at Loki's closed face, scrutinizing the finely applied mask. "Fyrir told me Thor bested you today in sparring." A miniscule movement at the boy's jaw confirmed his intentions.
"Thor is a very good fighter, father. I wish to best him. But clearly I need more practice." The words were a struggle to get out. Loki refused to meet the old man's eye. Odin waited, confident that if he held his tongue, Loki would loose his.
Sure enough, the silence proved too much for the boy who needed words to protect himself, "I wished to best Thor at his own game." He blurted out, still not looking at Odin, "I was going to challenge him again once I had gotten better with the hammer." A chink in his carefully spun armor. Loki was clever and tricky, far more than Odin would have liked. He wondered at the man Loki could become.
"Do you know why Thor chooses the hammer, Loki?" Odin asked, breaking his silence.
"Because it is the weapon you favour. It requires great strength." It was a personal defeat for Loki, admitting that his downfall was his physique. While Thor had grown broad and strong, Loki remained slim and boyish.
"Because Thor thinks with his arm, and not his mind." Odin had wandered over to the weapons rack, where Loki's favoured weapon, the throwing knives, lay untouched, "The hammer is easy for him because he does not need to think to use it." He picked up a blade, testing its weight in his hand. Spinning around quickly, he sent the knife hurtling through the air, towards the boy. Alarmed, Loki raised the hammer to deflect it. It bounced off harmlessly, but gave no time for Loki to question his father, who was now holding a second knife to Loki's belly. "Instinct is predictable," Odin explained as the boy realized his precarious position, mind racing for a solution, "Understand it, and you will best Thor." He lowered the blade, and left his son to ponder his words. The slight clanging of the hammer being returned to the weapons rack escorted Odin out.
Within a fortnight, Thor refused to spar with Loki, who "cheated" to win their matches.
---
"Come on, brother, it will be fun!" Thor had grown into his height nicely, and was already beginning to fill out. Loki was not so lucky.
"Then go, have your fun. But do it without me." He was a gangly teen, ungainly in appearance, but with a keen mind. Thor rolled his eyes, exasperated at his little brother. Loki wanted to come along on Thor’s adventures, but it always took such persuading.
"It won't be fun unless you come along." Stubborn as he was arrogant, Loki could see this was a battle he wouldn't be winning, "My hammer would still be lost if not for you, brother. You made the deal with Thrym, you must come."
"I'm not one much for parties." he countered half heartedly, knowing it was fruitless to argue against Thor, and secretly wanting to join his brother. He cast one last longing look over the pages of the manuscript he was reading, and closed the dusty tome begrudgingly, "When do we start?"
So far, everything was going according to plan. Thor's plan, that is, which mean things could probably have been going much better. Heimdall had allowed them to travel to Nornheim (without telling Odin), and seemed to be amused at the sight of Thor in a wedding dress. Loki was currently in the process of escorting Thor to the gates of the Giant Thrym's keep, with Sif and the others waiting, ready to cover their escape.
"Tell me again, brother, why Sif isn't wearing the dress?" Loki asked playfully, mocking Thor's choice of attire.
"Because," Thor answered from underneath his veil, "Sif is the rearguard. Were you not listening when I explained it to you?"
“Not well enough, it seems. Now quiet,” He silenced his older brother as they approached the doors. Two ugly brutes guarded it, looking suspiciously at Loki and his brother, “Prince Loki Odinson, of Asgard, escorting the Lady Freyja of the Valkyrie to her intended groom.” Upon discovering who had stolen Thor’s hammer, Loki had also managed to wrangle terms of return from Thrym; a marriage to Freyja, largely considered to be one of Asgard’s most beautiful women. Freyja’s flat out refusal (I’m not marrying a giant because you lost your hammer, cousin) birthed Thor’s brilliant plan.
The guards let them in easily, and they were quickly ushered into the great hall. A mighty feast had been prepared, and there were upwards of one hundred giants in attendance. Loki positioned himself at Thrym’s right hand, with Thor right beside him, explaining to the giant that the Lady Freyja was too nervous to speak, so overcome with joy for her wedding. The big oaf bought everything.
“Do all of your women eat so much?” Thrym rumbled, noticing that Thor was onto his third plate of food.
“In anticipation of being wed, the Lady has been fasting for the last week, my Lord. She is famished.” Not looking, Loki stomped on Thor’s foot underneath the table. Idiot. His brother nearly choked on the mouthful of food he was swallowing, and kicked Loki back.
The meal ended, and soon the giants were calling for dancing. Thrym wanted to dance with his bride, but Loki intervened quickly, “My Lord, the Lady is quite tired. In addition to fasting, she has also been unable to sleep, so anxious is she to be wed to you.”
“Then let us wait no longer!” Thrym declared, “Let us be wed!” The horde cheered, and the tables were quickly pushed aside. Thrym disappeared during the commotion, but returned carrying Mjollnir, his prize. The union would be blessed by the hammer of the Gods, and then maybe returned. Maybe.
Loki looked at his brother, and could tell by his body language that Thor was ready to strike. He signalled Thor to steady himself, coupled with a warning glance. Thor had no time for his brother’s warnings, however. He ripped off the veil, revealing his identity, and charged at Thrym before anyone had a chance to react. Loki rolled his eyes and pulled out his knives, burying them into the three closest giants.
Meanwhile Thor wrestled Thrym for Mjollnir. The giant was strong, but underestimated the will of the hammer itself, which managed to slip out of Thrym’s grasp and into Thor’s, almost magically. Reunited with his beloved weapon, he pressed the attack, easily overpowering Thrym with a crushing blow to the head. |
