In the Shadow of a God
Loki had spent his entire life in the shadow of Thor. It had bothered him at first that he was different. He had once tried to change, to become the traits that Asgardians prized. He tried to be strong, fight first and ask questions later, become a glutton and drunk on glory. But it had never suited him. So eventually, he gave up trying altogether.
He knew that the puzzle piece didn't fit, but it was then that he realized that it was the puzzle's fault, not that of the piece's. And he grew to resent the rest of Asgard rather than himself.
Thor's friends never trusted him. Oh, they pretended to, as the formalities toward a prince dictated. But never were they his intimates, as they were with Thor. It took time to learn to keep his sense of injustice at the whole affair locked within, taken for granted as he smiled at them through his teeth while plotting tricks on them behind their backs. But he learned soon enough.
Servants and guards were wary of him, and there were a few who attempted to go a step further in displaying their distrust, or tried to be overly friendly to the point of disgusting falsity, or just looked at him funny one too many times. Those were the few who learned to truly fear him. Really, they got what they deserved.
Odin said he loved him. And he passed on the usual life lessons and wise teachings a father would be expected to impart to his son. Above all, it was Odin who saw his attempts at fitting in, recognized them as such, took him aside and encouraged him to be different. He knew Loki would never fit in, and perhaps it saddened him to see the boy trying so hard to do the impossible, at the expense of his happiness. Though, as Loki looked back on the business, perhaps it wasn't fatherly altruism at all. It was closer to a ruler's guilt.
Frigga showed she loved him. She pampered her youngest child as a mother should. He would always be grateful for it, but he did not count her among those who truly loved him. Hers was a mandatory love. He had not won it, and could not lose it, and could never change it. It was always there, no matter how failed a creature he would ever turn out to be. So it could not be hard-earned, and therefore held little actual value. It was useless.
Everyone was a constant. His parents' 'love' he could never escape, and the mistrust and contempt of everyone else he would never alter. For that, he could only embrace the destruction he wished upon them.
Except for Thor.
Thor was always the exception. He hated to admit this, but there it was. An open confession to his mind.
A mother must love her son, but one does not need to love one's siblings. Oh, it's expected, and he supposed everyone on some level feels what they call 'love' for their blood kin. A vestigial survival instinct, simple as that. But feeling true affection or adoration for a sibling, actually enjoying their company, growing into a bond that feels like friendship but holds roots in something much closer…such is not a requirement of being brothers. He had seen brothers without this in other families, sharing a living space only for perfunctory kinship, parting when the time came, never crossing in the same orbits. Not so with him and Thor.
From a young age, he and Thor had been together. Frigga would tell them stories of how flustered the maids would become because they could never get Thor to leave the new baby's crib-side, and how frightened they would be that the toddler would one day steal the babe away. Sometimes, Loki wished that he would have, and that Thor would have run away and raised him on his own, far from Asgard. It would have made the business of loving each other much simpler.
In a way, because he was older, Thor had taken a part in raising him. There wasn't too great a difference in their ages, but regardless, Thor saw one of his many roles in his brother's life as a slight protector of sorts. It didn't come into play as much as it should have the rest of his life, but it was always there, a shadow of good grace hovering over Loki, with and without Thor's presence.
Odin had groomed them both for kingship from the start, but beyond that, he had let them free to romp and play. Those memories, hazy with youth though they were, remained Loki's favorite. There were no cares then, except for Thor. The shadow of Thor that the rest of Asgard pinned upon him was not yet recognizable by his young mind. In those days, he was truly free. And Thor was ever by his side, his equal, playing games and exploring their beautiful kingdom. It was nothing but their home in those days. Theirs.
Indeed, the only memories he carried of those times that involved chastisement from others were of how openly physical they were in their affections to each other. It was not uncommon for them to kiss one another in plain view. It was normal, but soon it bordered on something about which a few became concerned. Just to be rebellious, however, they continued. They didn't care back then. What should the opinions of others matter, compared to the overwhelming devotion they carried for one another?
Though it irritated him to admit it, only in Asgard could such boisterous love be allowed in such a raging display through childhood. The Aesir's society was rough, loud, and at times nearly lascivious. Their open tussles and wrestling, hand-holding, kissing, countless sleepovers together, all still fell within the bounds of the very primal, physical culture within which they had grown.
But just as this culture gave Thor to him with the closeness they both desired, it was these same values, once instilled within the heir apparent's heart, that had taken him away from Loki.
Asgardians valued bravery and courage. They valued strength of body, expecting strength of spirit to logically follow. They preferred action to words, deeds and execution to the thoughts and plans that preceded them. The stories they told were not of Odin's political strategies and battle tactics, but of how many Jotuns he slew, how quickly his sword hewed them in two, how much Frost Giant blood was spilt in the battle.
All such values came naturally to Thor, or perhaps they molded his temperament to fit them perfectly. Either way, when they began training for combat, Thor flourished and was applauded. Loki did well, but disliked it, and was thus less praised. And from there, the wedge only deepened between them, tearing them apart.
Thor became a fierce warrior, allowing his ego to boom over food and drink as he boasted of his strength. Women flocked to him. Men laughed with him, loud and uproarious, praising his skill. Loki sat to the sidelines, thinking, daydreaming, planning, pondering. Wondering. Something that Asgard would never celebrate.
He found books of magic one day, and before he knew it he had skipped a month's worth of combat practice, and had mastered an advanced spell of water manipulation instead. Watching the liquid twist and churn at his fingertips' will, then uttering a single word and seeing it become a warped pillar of ice...it was divine. From then on, he knew he had found his calling.
He still learned to fight, but incorporated magic into his tactics, inventing his tricks as he went along. Trial and error (and there were a great many more of the latter) eventually brought him wonderful results. By this time, Thor was begging to accompany older warriors on quests, to prove his mettle. Odin granted it. Loki felt jaded.
Until Thor asked him to come along.
He was treated in the hunting party only as a token accessory, not taken seriously by anyone but Thor. But when he saved everyone's necks and allowed their quest to succeed due to his magic and planning, he was seen as legitimate. Of course, Thor got drunk when they returned and he followed along with everyone's expectations that he had been the hero, and Loki, though still remembered, was removed from his pedestal.
Years passed in this manner, and the rift deepened. They flew by on their respective trajectories: Thor on a track for greatness, shining in the sun, coming to wield the great hammer Mjolnir and becoming the greatest warrior in Asgard under Odin; Loki spreading lies to get ahead as best he could, causing mischief in his free time, becoming the greatest master of magic the nine realms had ever known.
They both excelled, but only Thor was truly praised. And so it happened that one evening, back from another wild adventure, Thor was announced as the next king of Asgard. Loki knew it would happen, and had been expecting it for some time, but the anger that rose in his throat still burned like hellfire.
From this tipping point, Thor's growth into godly renown became exponential, and Loki became the secondary prince. Not only that, but his reputation was built upon deceits and trickery, and his manipulations began to catch up with him. Thor was in the sun, and he caught only the shadow, while others cast him out into the darkness in their thoughts.
But always, something remained. It remained all through the events that brought everything splitting open, driving him toward who he really was, or perhaps who he was forced to become as circumstances provided him no other option. Through the failed coronation, Thor's banishment, learning his Jotun heritage, rising to the throne, falling into the abyss, invading Midgard, becoming captured again…one thing remained.
Thor's love.
Thor remained blind to everyone's social mistreatment of him, blind even to Loki's own misdeeds and sins against both guilty and innocent parties. Still he saw them both as the young brothers deeply and maddeningly in love with one another. He saw this even while they shared no blood, even when one was king while the other was deemed insane. Loki didn't know which he hated more: Thor, for this slovenly whimpering of devotion, clinging to a hollow shell of a dream…
…or that he couldn't bring himself to hate Thor for it at all.