Loki quietly padded along the vast hallway towards his and Thor's room, feeling exhausted and humiliated. He'd been bested yet again in training by Thor's ridiculously oversized friend. The injustice of it made Loki's heart pound with anger and frustration…how had his father expected him to overcome a boy of that girth? The look on the great Allfather's face when Loki's frail frame had, yet again, hit the ground with a painful thud had been a familiar one of disappointment. His son had further proven himself an incapable warrior. But Loki was accustomed to that look, that feeling...the true source of his pain was that his father had grown tired…bored of watching his son fall and fail against the larger boy's blows. Loki would've gotten up, would've taken his stance, and taken hit after hit after hit if only his father's gaze would remain on him, watching him fight and try and hurt…watching him do anything. Even if it meant disappointing him, even if it was humiliating, Loki would fight until his face was blackened by bruises and covered in sweat and dust if only his father would watch him do so.
But he was dull…boring…unworthy of his father's gaze, his attention.
He walked at a sullen, shuffled pace, close to the wall, and he drug a forearm against his bruised face, angrily wiping away tears he wished he could stop. What a pathetic thing to do after training, after fighting, after losing a battle…to cry. It was an action meant for children, and he was most certainly not a child. He was almost 15 years old, he was becoming a young man…his father would only take more pity on him if he saw him in this lowly state after his sad performance not 10 minutes ago.
But they didn't stop, only continued to silently flow down his cheeks, washing away the dirt and sweat and small drops of blood and revealing streaks of his pale skin. His chin quivered and his brow furrowed together in a furious attempt to silence his feelings. A small choking sound escaped his throat and he stopped in the hall, leaning against the wall and clenching his fists. With a small, strained cry he swung his right fist into the stone wall, refusing to cry out when pain shot through his knuckles and laced his bones. He faced the wall and threw another punch, this time with his left, tears streaming down his face as more pain swept up his arms, continuing to abuse the stone corridor, seeking punishment for the weaknesses that clung to him like a cloak.
He was so much smaller than Thor, than his friend, than everyone. He was never enough, never strong, never brave, never fearless, never warrior-like, though he wanted to be more than anything in the world. He couldn't grasp why it was so much more difficult for him, why had it come so easily to Thor?
Thor…with his golden hair and healthy skin and lean frame and his damned warrior's intellect; he was born for battle, for glory, for greatness…for their father's pride and approval. Sickeningly perfect. It was too painful to watch him stride around, day after day, wallowing in everyone's admiration, drinking it all in so greedily. Loki despised his brother at times like these, when all he ever wanted was to be like him…to be Thor's equal, to have a fighting chance against him for their father's approval, even more so for Thor's approval. To be able to throw his golden brother to the ground and pin him down, make him surrender to his strength and cunning. Long had Loki dreamt of the look of surprise on Thor's face when he first bested him in battle; that gleam of admiration that would spark behind his frustrated features…for that glimpse of fear and respect.
Loki had stopped pounding at the wall and stood with his bloodied hands spread against it, his forehead pressed to the cold stone, breathing shallow and his expression concentrated on imagining that look in his brother's eyes. The gleam of his father's surprised laughter or even his anger, if he wasn't able to handle the sight before him: Loki standing over a defeated and bruised Thor.
He sighed, his anger leaking from his lungs and his heart steadying itself. His muscles relaxed and the pain in his hand became more apparent and mocked him for his childish behavior. He stepped back and wearily continued towards his chambers, both physically and emotionally exhausted. When he reached the enormous decorative doors, he pushed them open with some difficulty, peeking in to see if Thor was in there, waiting to scoff at his wounds or initiate a playful wrestling match, that of which Loki was most certainly not in the mood for. The sun was in the midst of setting, and the evening's dim glow filtered in through the crack in the doorway. Loki's eyes adjusted to the darkness of their chambers and he took note that the oaf wasn't in his bed. He assumed he was probably laughing with his fat friend over Loki's pathetic defeat.
He closed the door behind him and headed for the washroom, eager for the water's hot rinse to wash away all the evidence of the day's events. He pulled his stained white tunic off his bruised torso with a slow soreness and kicked his boots off at the washroom's door.
He hesitated in opening the door when he heard a voice from inside; a low humming and the soft slosh of water. He cursed under his breath and took notice that there was a small flickering of yellow light dancing under the door's frame.
"A bath by candlelight, honestly Thor," he thought, rolling his eyes.
He flung the door open and the candle's flame sputtered threateningly at the sudden intrusion. The washroom was draped in the golden and violet glow of the receding sun, and Thor's bright blue eyes peeped over the edge of the brass washbasin at him briefly before disappearing beneath the water's surface with a messy slosh sound.
Loki rolled his eyes tiredly and pulled his filthy trousers off, tossing the dusty fabric into the corner and approaching the sink to wash his face before Thor could notice the blood and dirt.
He stood there in naught but his undergarments, letting the water fill up the deep basin, staring at his face in the mirror with a deep loathing, listening to Thor attempt to stay under the water in some spontaneous and childish attempt to impress him.
He plunged his hands into the cool water and brought it cupped to his face, scrubbing furiously at his pale features and running his fingers through his dark, sweaty locks. He blinked away the drips that clung to his lashes and looked again in the mirror, wishing to see Thor smiling back at him, his mop of scruffy wild blonde hair and brilliantly white smile…but the dark, frail boy met his hateful glare yet again. His brows met, crinkling his fair skin and darkening his green eyes, and he thrust his entire head into the basin, longing to drown the image and its pathetic reputation; to drown its air of weakness and well-known frailty…to start over.
He held his breath, feeling the stream of water beat at the nape of his neck, the water loosening the dirt from his locks and from behind his ears. A few bubbles of air escaped the tight line of his lips and tickled his face as they rushed towards the surface. His hands gripped the sides of the marble counter and he gritted his teeth, willing the water to remake him, cleanse him, and change everything about him.
And suddenly there were hands on his shoulders, yanking him out of his watery transformation and a flash of aquamarine darted through his vision.
"OK you win," Thor's laughter came heartily, though there was an air of irritation to it, "You'd rather drown than lose, wouldn't you?" His brother's blue eyes glinted at him as he stared back at him, face and hair dripping.
Loki shoved his brother's hands off of him and turned his back on him, "I wasn't competing with you brother, I was merely washing my face."
"And what a wash it was, I thought you'd lost your mind!"
"Well you were occupying the tub, so I thought it best I leave you to your childish games and attempt to get at least some of this filth off me," Loki retorted, gesturing to his bare torso and the rest of his dusted, bruised body. Then suddenly his brow gave a twitch and he glanced at Thor over his shoulder, "and by the Nine, Thor, would you put some clothes on?"
Thor exploded with laughter, his lean chest expanding and falling with each beautiful breath. It truly wasn't fair to live in the shadow of such a bright star. Loki huffed indignantly and made his way towards the brass tub.
"What's the matter, Loki, am I so intimidating that you can't handle the smallest of glimpses at my impressive manhood?"
"Oh please," Loki barked, his shoulders hunching with embarrassment as he hefted one leg over the edge of the tub, "the only basis for boasting your 'manhood' has is that it springs with eagerness at the very sight of Sif!" A wicked laugh escaped his lips when he heard no reply from his no doubt dumbfounded brother.
"And besides, it's not as if you—," Loki began, but was cut off by his brother's broad shoulder connecting with his back and tackling him into the enormous tub with a thunderous splash that emptied it of most of its water.
He struggled against his brother's strong arms that locked around his waist and kicked angrily at the bottom of the basin. The water was dark, their splash from their collision had probably extinguished the small candle, and all Loki saw were flashes of tanned skin and golden hair swirling around before him. He squeezed a leg between Thor's torso and his and shoved against his brother's chest with his foot, sending him speeding through the water. Loki surfaced and sputtered, frantically wheeling towards the direction he'd kicked Thor. The basin was large, probably large enough for 10 people at most, so the fact that the water now only barely rose to Loki's narrow hips said something for the amount of water they'd displaced.
Thor exploded from the other side of the basin and glared at Loki, "You take it back, you slithering imp!"
Loki relished his brother's tormented and embarrassed expression, drinking it in with glee.
"I will not! There's nothing wrong with speaking the blatant TRUTH," he roared back at his brother, widening his stance and readying himself for Thor's next attack, "it's no secret, Thor, everyone can see how excited she makes you, you perverted, pathetic animal!"
"RAAGH!" Thor screamed and lunged for his brother, but Loki was quicker and dodged him, sending him clumsily splashing into the water. Thor was always quick to anger like this, hardly taking in time to register what he was feeling or why. He always simply leapt into action and sought to destroy any assault on his dignity. Loki thought it was hilarious, provoking his brother, confusing and frustrating him. Words had always been his weapon, his one stronghold against his brother's strength; it gave him a sense of control, to be the cause of Thor's anger and bend it to his will.
"More than fancy I'd say," Loki laughed as his brother attempted to right himself in the water, "you probably openly fantasize about her in broad daylight, don't you?"
"I FIND SIF REPULSIVE!" Thor raged, his face red in the dim afterglow of the sunset, "I'd never even CONSIDER bedding such a bony excuse for a girl!"
"Then perhaps bony is just your type, since her pointy figure seems to arouse you ever so!" Loki was simply baiting Thor now; he no longer cared whether or not Thor found Sif attractive. He wanted to fight Thor, wanted to watch his clumsy form fall again and again into the few waves left and laugh himself to sleep for days after thinking about it.
"Well even your feminine curves far outdo Sif's, Loki," Thor spat, "You're more of a woman than she is! Any man would be glad to have such a pretty little thing in his bed at night!"
Loki's face reddened with rage and embarrassment, but he held his ground, knowing if he pursued Thor he'd be overtaken.
He faked an expression of shock, "Dear gods, Thor, are you saying you'd rather bed me than Sif?"
That seemed to do the trick. Thor's eyes went wide with wild humiliation and he let out a strangled cry as he sprang towards Loki who was too busy inwardly gloating at his last words, failed to react quickly enough to dodge his brother's body.
"GACKHG," Loki gasped as Thor plunged them both under the water and wrapped his hands around his pale throat. Thor's grasp held him under the water and squeezed threateningly around his neck, glaring at him from above the now cold water. Loki frantically flailed his arms and legs, reaching up to claw at Thor's chest in a panic. He knew Thor wouldn't mean to kill him, but the fool was so dim-witted that he could very well drown him in the process of trying to prove his strength and dominance over his brother.
After a few more seconds of struggling, an idea sprung into his mind and he let his body go limp and float submissively in the water. Thor immediately released him and ripped him from the water by his shoulders. He was hesitant for a moment, giving his brother's face a close inspection.
"Loki...?"
He remained silent, inwardly laughing and trying to hold his breath.
"Loki," Thor shouted, much too close to Loki's ear, and he shook his lean shoulders desperately, "LOKI!"
Loki dared the narrowest of glimpses through his squinted eyes and took in Thor's intensely frightened stare, fixated on his brother's face. His blue eyes practically glowed in the dark and were wide with terror as he shouted Loki's name again and again.
Loki took the opportunity and landed a strong, solid punch to Thor's jaw, sending him splashing backwards. Loki gasped in air, and soon doubled over in breathless laughter.
Thor's eyes were still wide and worried when he stood; not seeming to register that it had been Loki's fist that had just knocked him square in the face.
"Loki…," Thor's expression was confused and he stood there staring at his brother, holding his jaw.
He laughed harder, trying to catch his breath, "My word, Thor, you're such an idiot!"
He was still dizzy from his lack of air and failed to notice Thor wading towards him. He abruptly stopped laughing when his brother grabbed him by the shoulders and roughly pulled him to his chest, embracing him tightly and not uttering a word while Loki stood there, breathing shallow, a faintly amused smirk on his lips. His arms were locked at his sides and an eyebrow slowly rose up in interest as he waited for Thor to release him.
His breathing evened out and he rested his chin on Thor's shoulder, tossing a sidelong glance towards the wet strands of hair that clung to the side of his face.
"…Thor," he spoke, almost a question.
His brother's shoulders shook a little and Loki's brows shot upward.
"Thor, are you crying?"
"What is wrong with you?" he shouted, shoving Loki against the side of the tub and glaring down at him, angry tears mixed with the drops of water that clung to his nose and eyelashes and forehead. Loki stared back at him, unsure of what to make of his brother's expression.
"What's wrong with me? You were holding me underwater by the neck, you ridiculous fool!"
"Well if you didn't say such stupid things I wouldn't need to teach you a lesson!"
"Oh yes, because you are most certainly the expert and ultimate authority on intelligible sayings."
"Of course I…," he trailed off, his eyes softening, "Loki…your eye…what…"
Loki's eyebrows shot together and he turned his face away from his brother's unbearably curious gaze, "Don't act so surprised." His words were laden with bitterness and his downcast eyes begged his brother not to pry.
"…Training?" Thor offered softly, an uncharacteristic gentleness contrasting with his otherwise barbaric demeanor.
"No, Thor, I just decided that I'd kindly ask someone to repeatedly throw me to the ground for my own personal pleasure," Loki scoffed, shrinking into the water, seeking solitude behind his sarcasm.
The golden haired boy grabbed his brother's chin and lifted it up, earning him a venomous look. "Even I've never left such marks on you, not even in my most blind of rages," Thor mumbled, examining his brother's now prominent black eye and several cuts and bruises.
"Nonsense," Loki laughed bitterly.
Thor's gaze turned to one of blatant hurt and Loki suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable with guilt. Thor had never been one to mask his emotions, his shining face was always elaborately animated, whether he was laughing or confused or furious…Loki hated it, the sincerity of it all. He was tired. Exhausted. He wanted to just clean up and go to bed and forget how many times he'd failed today.
"Loki…I am sorry…," Thor spoke hesitantly, a familiar tone of pity in his words, "I didn't…"
"Don't waste your breath, brother, I've received quite enough pity for one day," Loki spat, standing and wading towards the edge of the basin. He grabbed the high edge and leapt over it with nimble grace.
Thor remained silent and Loki took pride in the quiet, knowing the guilt his brother surely felt.
"Serves him right, the oaf, practically drowning me, and suddenly he's all concerned my eye's been blackened, what a joke," Loki thought as he splashed through the massive puddles on the marble floor, "Probably angry he wasn't the one to give it to me, Thor's never been the sharing type, greedy bastard, I'm not a toy—"
His thoughts were interrupted when a heavy bundle of sopping wet fabric hit him in the back of the head and he abruptly halted, shoulders hunched over from the impact.
He sighed and pulled the dripping mass off his head, realizing it was his undergarments. He must've lost them during their watery wrestling match. He blushed slightly as the realization dawned on his irritated features. He'd just been wrestling, completely naked, with his brother in a bathtub.
He turned to glare at Thor over his shoulder, who was again peeping innocently over the top of the tub, eyes eerily glowing in the dark.
"…Thank you," he grumbled, wringing them out and tossing them amongst his trousers in the corner. He grabbed a towel from a small rack near the door and threw it over his head, scrubbing at his wet mop of hair. He heard Thor climb out of the tub and he instinctively moved forward blindly towards the door, knowing he would likely try to make up for his guilt by initiating yet another physical attack.
Just as he was about to pull the towel off his head, he felt his brother grab him round the waist with one arm and hoist him up and over his shoulder.
"THOR, dammit, I'm not in the—would you just—AEGH, watch the hand, what are you—oof." He felt himself tossed onto a bed, and he mentally cursed Thor for not letting him dry off first. He sure as hell wasn't going to sleep in a bed with soaking wet sheets.
He ripped the towel off his head and started when he found Thor's face just inches from his. His brother's hand came up to roughly cup his neck and he gave him a warm smile.
"I am sorry brother," he said sincerely, "I do not pity you. I admire your will and your determination. You are quite the adversary, especially in the tub."
Loki blushed profusely and shoved the towel at Thor's face, "Oh for gods' sakes Thor, would you just leave me alone and dry off; you're drenched."
Thor laughed and pulled the towel around his neck.
"Come on now, don't be so stubborn," he chuckled, grabbing Loki's face in his hands and scrunching his eyes and lips together in a mock 'kissy' face. Loki leaned away, one eye squished close in an attempt to pull his face out of Thor's strong grip.
"Mffgh Thfor, lehtgho," he growled, annoyed.
Thor planted a soft kiss on his brother's forehead and pushed him into the pillows before standing and striding towards the bathroom, idly drying his hair with the towel.
Loki rubbed his blushing cheeks and hopped off the bed, eyes lingering on Thor's retreating form. As soon as he'd disappeared from view, Loki sighed deeply and went to his drawers to find something clean to wear for bed. He drew a pair of soft cream colored cotton trousers on, not bothering with a shirt, and returned to their bed chamber. After drying his torso off, he quickly claimed the dry bed and whipped the covers over himself with an unnecessary flair just as Thor emerged from the bathroom, clad in nothing but an oversized white night shirt.
"Oh no you don't," Thor chuckled from somewhere in the darkness of their room.
"Oh yes I do, you're the one who got the other one soaking wet," Loki hissed back, his tone dangerous and just daring Thor to try and take the bed from him.
"Well I'm not sleeping in a wet bed," Thor's voice came indignant from the shadows.
"Well it wouldn't be the first time, now would it?" Loki laughed, preparing to be ripped out of the bed by his legs.
Thor, however, settled for simply leaping into bed, landing uncomfortably on his brother's form. He unceremoniously tore back the covers and settled down next to Loki, one arm resting on the top of the sheets and sighing contentedly.
"Agh—, what are you doing," Loki grumbled.
"I'm going to bed."
"No. This is my bed."
"No, brother, this is our bed."
"You can't sleep here!"
"Goodnight brother, dream well."
"You—….I refuse to—…" Loki fumed and attempted to shove Thor off the bed for a solid 5 minutes, but to no avail. He finally collapsed next to his brother and gave a frustrated huff, turning on his side and facing away from Thor. He greedily pulled as many covers as he could around himself in a last attempt to piss his brother off.
He felt his brother shift his weight and Loki expected a strong hand to fist in the pile and tug them back. Instead he felt Thor's body curl up against his back, his arm reaching around to tuck itself amongst the folds of sheets Loki had confiscated.
He thought about protesting, about shoving his brother off of him and making another crude joke to coax him out of his bed, but exhaustion was pulling at his eyelids and blurring his planned remarks.
Thor's forehead rested against the crook of Loki's neck, his soft breath puffing against his bare back. He idly noted how much warmth Thor gave off, even more so than the entirety of the covers draped over him. It was comforting and oddly relaxing. Loki soon sleepily kicked the sheets to the bottom of the bed and unconsciously leaned further into the curve of his brother's frame, just as Thor's arms instinctively pulled him closer.