"A fair, luscious maiden," Thor murmured longingly, smirking as he placed an arm over his brother's thin shoulders, "would do you well, Loki." The trickster, unsteady from the added weight of Thor's arm on him, shook his head and rolled his eyes dramatically.

"And staying away from them would do you well, brother."

Thor bellowed with his trademark, rambunctious laughter and clapped Loki's shoulder, sending him forward about a foot, and Loki turned his head to the side and gave him a withering stare, green eyes fixed on his smiling face. Thor sobered the slightest and pointed to him, matching their strides together, his eyes bright in the sunshine.

"In all seriousness, though, you do need a woman. It will fix all of your problems."

As they strode across the sparring yard, Loki was careful to watch for beginners, wary of a sword flying his way and maiming him, and his eyes flickered uneasily about the court, his dark hair acting as a stark contrast to Thor's golden mane, stray strands curling in the breeze. The armor that usually clung to him was gone, replaced by a soft cotton undershirt that revealed the taut muscles of his arms and blue trousers that looked faded from time. Loki wore his leather and cotton, green colors appearing on every few inches of his outfit, and he sighed in relief when he realized that the yard was empty, save for the lone onlooker lounging comfortably in the stands, just like she'd been born to take her seat in that exact spot and never leave.

Her hair was pulled tight into a rigid ponytail, her crimson armor catching the rays of sunlight that cascaded down upon her, grey eyes shining from the attention she gained. Thor glanced up to her and smiled in that friendly way of his, waving casually, and she beamed and waved back, her movements excited and quick. Her eyes shifted to where Loki stood, gaze sliding over him like he wasn't even there, and he sighed inwardly.

Lost again to Thor's shadow.

It was an ongoing battle to not just shove Thor out of the way and take the spotlight for himself, but as the second and youngest son, Loki had no choice in who looked at him and who didn't, who noticed him and who simply didn't care-which was most of the Asgardian population. He pretended like the action didn't bother him and continued walking, counting on Thor to catch up with him when he was ready, and he was completely unsurprised when Thor never did come back to his side. Sif had yet again stolen Thor's attention, and Loki found himself seething with rage, an uncontrollable feeling that spread through his veins like liquid flame, searing his senses and darkening his thoughts. His was a rare jealousy, the kind that sat and settled and resurfaced at the most inopportune moments, the kind that raged about in the head and took over the mind and destroyed every last bit of sanity left.

Only when he made it to his room did Loki allow himself the relief of pressing the heels of his palms to his closed eyelids, willing his mind to simply cease, willing his thoughts to turn to better things. He leaned against his door and slid down, body shaking as he tried to avoid the inevitable envy that coiled around him and suffocated every innocent breath he had within his choked, struggling lungs, and he inhaled deeply, a rattling sound echoing throughout his chambers.

For how long he remained there, crouched with his face hanging in his palms as if some great shame had come and washed over him, Loki wasn't certain, and only the pounding that sounded at his door broke his concentration on the task. He looked up and felt cold, dried tears on his cheeks, blinking away the haze covering his mind.

"Loki," came Thor's concerned timbre, the deep rumble of his changing, shifting voice reaching past the walls Loki'd so hastily constructed around himself. As teenagers, it was their duty to go and be festive at banquets and such, to not only boost the social activity in Asgard but to give the population a chance at rising. Loki doubted he'd meet any girl any time soon, doubted it entirely, but Thor was all too eager for a chance at a fun night, and his rapping became more persistent as Loki's silence lengthened. Loki narrowed his eyes when he realized that it was dark outside, that the moon hung high among the glittering, winking stars. It had been daylight in Asgard when he'd stalked off to his room, and he swallowed thickly.

"Loki, we don't need to be late. Now, come out of there." The trickster rolled his eyes and gingerly rested the back of his head against the wide golden door, closing his eyes with a small, soundless sigh, and he shook his head as Thor continued to pester him.

"The women, Loki, they call to me. We must go."

"Thor! We MUST go!"

Loki sounded frantic, his voice strained as he fought off the Frost Giants at his back and all around him, pitching his daggers left and right as he struggled through the masses to reach the thunder god, who thoughtlessly cut down all that came his way, relishing in the taste of battle, smiling arrogantly as he threw Mjolnir, its silver bulk whistling through the air. Eyes round and scared, Loki looked young again, unburdened and unscathed, and his lips shook as he shouted to his brother one last time, terrified of what was to come. There was nothing else, nothing left to do, nowhere left to go, and it was all Thor's fault. Thor, who was bloodying the icy ground before them all, completely ignorant to the dire situation around him, completely lost in his lust for war. As a roar sounded behind him, as his feet pounded against the rocky, perilous ground beneath them, he heard Thor's battle cry at his back, distant and far and already gone.

He thought he saw the end, and he closed his eyes.

Loki finally relented and got to his feet, turning to reluctantly open the door as Thor's bright and excited smile assaulted his vision. He blinked, unaccustomed to the hall lighting after so long spent in the darkness of his room, and quickly stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind him and staring, deadpan, at his brother. Thor was an inch or so taller than Loki, and his limbs, rather than being lanky, were well defined from years of conditioning, and his jaw bone jutted out strongly, his eyes bright with the shine of youth and promise of maidens.

Loki, on the other hand, was thin, leaner than Thor and lacking the kind of muscles that the women adored, and so he rarely showed any bit of his skin, more resigned to the quiet, shrouded life of luxury. Thor began walking down the hall and Loki followed, having no trouble with matching his wide, long stride, and he could hear the commotion from the feast hall, loud laughter and music and the dissonant, clashing sound of countless murmurs and shouts and whispers. After dreading the moment for the entire walk, the archway came into Loki's sight, and Thor strutted under its majestic, tall curve proudly, entering the feast room with a great wide grin brightening his features. Loki slinked along behind him, mainly cloaked in shadow, and veered away from his brother once Thor began to attempt to woo two ladies at once. He chose a nice, darkened corner and stood stiffly within its confines, his appetite completely absent and his mood completely ruined. He could see Odin and Frigga at the front, entertaining the "special" guests and acting completely hospitable and kindly. Sighing, he attempted to tune out the loud laughter, and the urge to wonder to the balcony for some peace and quiet came over him on more than one occasion, but he denied himself the satisfaction.

He'd stay until Thor roamed away to his chambers with a maiden, sometimes two, and follow them until they were all safe in Thor's room, and then he'd stay vigil in his own chambers, waiting for that one moment in the earliest time of the next day when Thor needed things to be taken care of. Those things were ushering the women away, trying to cure the sickness Thor would feel from so much previous intoxication, and struggling to convince Thor that he shouldn't repeat the night's activities.

It was a boring, tedious duty, but someone had to do it.

There was a tinkling, familiar laugh that rose above the rest of the noise in the crowd, snapping Loki out of his reverie as he searched for the source. Loki stared at the top of the large staircase at the front of the room and his pulse quickened, that same dark envy staining his mind.

The Lady Sif had arrived.

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