Loki's Dream

by Natalie Rushman

Could be subtitled 'A day with young Asgardian Princes' in which Loki has a horrible dream, it affects the rest of his day and he/everybody else deals with it.

Author's note: This is my first published fan-fic. Please let me know how I did!

I do not own recognizable characters. Hlin, Kvasir, and Tyr are mythological characters that I have used for my own purposes.

Thor is supposed to be roughly thirteen or fourteen. Loki, ten or eleven. - Loki is dreaming himself and Thor as adults.

Loki's Dream

From his place by the window, Loki could see the fight transpiring beneath him. His men were waiting in the low shed behind the building in which he stood, waiting for his word.

Loki watched the fight. He would bide his time. He would wait for the signal.

An arrow whizzed toward his face and he calmly side-stepped behind the strip of wall between the windows. The arrow hissed over his shoulder, embedding itself in the wall behind him. He looked at it appreciatively for a moment, then turned coolly back to his watch.

And then it came, a flash of lightning from the field to the north where Thor led his men - at the same time as the wall of fire.

Loki spun and threw himself out of the hind window onto the roof of the shed, ducking down below the casement where the flaming arrows couldn't reach him, waiting for the deadly hail to cease. Then, once it had subsided, he leapt to the ground where his second – Hymir - turned in the dark doorway to face him.

"It's time"

Hymir signaled the men.

~.~

The fighting was hard. Loki hoped that Thor was doing better than they. He had lost many men. He knew that there were seven behind him. What had become of the others was beyond his knowledge. They were crouched behind a low wall of greenery, projectiles flying over their heads. He locked eyes with Hymir. Hymir nodded. Loki gathered himself, taking a firmer hold of his knife. One…two…

~.~

Loki glared at the commander who grinned back at him from below his ebony helmet. Hymir had been killed in that rush, taken down by a bastard with a throwing ax and everything had gone downhill from there until this moment when he stood with the remaining three of his men, captured and bound before his enemy.

~.~

"The way I see it," the man purred, pacing back and forth before him in the dark room, "you have two choices. You can do as we wish, or all your men will be killed."

Loki raised his eyebrows, keeping his eyes guarded, "All three of them?"

"I'm sorry, did I imply that there were any of your number who evaded our capture? The number far exceeds the pitiful squadron that followed you. If you do not do as we wish, they will be killed before you, every one of their number, and you," he paused, "you will be released alone and unharmed to think on your folly for the remainder of your days."

"What is it you wish of me?" Thor would come. There was no way that Thor could have been captured. For once, the oaf was being quiet, biding his time.

"One life." the commander stopped his pacing to punctuate the statement, "One life, of our choosing. He will be one of your number. But only one. And then we will leave. We will cede you the victory."

One life. The way he emphasized it, it smelled of a trap. But what could they do if he accepted the bate? If he did, and they proved false, he would be no worse off than he was now. If he didn't, there was a great chance that he would be the only one who survived. All they asked was one life.

"Your time for deliberation runs short, my master is a busy man."

But could he kill one of the men? In cold blood? All because he was told to? It went against his nature, he didn't like to do things because he was forced. But who would gain should he refuse? All their blood would be on his head. If he did as they wanted, it was one life, one life to save what sounded as if it were countless…but was that a ruse as well?…he had no way of verifying the truth…

"If you have yet to make up your mind, it means their death. I will not waste any further time delaying myself for your answer. You will be recorded by all historians as the prince who allowed his people to be slain, all because he was afraid to draw a little blood."

"Patience, Captain," Loki purred, masking his tone to hide the frantic juggling of his thoughts, "And if I accept?"

"All shall be as I have stated. But know this, if you refuse to fulfill your word once given, you and all of yours will not live to see the morning."

"When will I be asked to do this killing?"

"At sunset."

Sunset. He had an hour, maybe two. Thor would come by then. And if he didn't, what matter, it was one man, and even if it wasn't- if it was a trap, the commander before him would have the broken word on his head to curse him into Nifleheim.

"I give you my word."

Loki could see nothing through the rough strip of cloth they had tied across his eyes. They pushed him forward, and he walked, hoping that he could keep his feet even through the speed they forced him to - there would be no way to catch himself with his hands bound as they were behind him. From the sound of the place, Loki knew he was outside, in the midst of a large and apprehensive crowd. They'd chosen to make a show of this killing then. Loki forced back his disgust. He'd never thought he would end up an executioner. Well, in a way, by executing, he was possibly saving…assuming any lived through the trap that was sure to spring…But at least this way - at least this way they had a chance. Maybe it was slim, but it was there and he'd won at worse odds, hadn't he?

They made him stop. He felt the cord that bound his wrists grow tight as they undid it, then slack. He brought his hands before him, rubbing at the chaffed wrists. He heard the sound of a person, similarly bound being shoved to the ground before him. The hilt of a sword was pushed into his right hand, cold and hard, and he allowed his fingers to close around it.

He was troubled, vaguely - thought he should feel something, some sort of nervousness or premature remorse at what it was he was about to be forced to…but he didn't. There was a gathering about him, like the pressure before a storm. Yes. A trap. A trap that was sure to spring any moment. He took a breath, readying himself for what was sure to come. Whatever it was, he intended the tales to go down in legend.

There was a scrabbling at the back of his head, and the cloth came away from his face. He blinked at the dim light, letting his eyes rove, hard and expressionless over the crowd. He saw many of his people, and intermingled with them, keeping them in line, the darkly clad soldiers. He was under their rule, for now, but it wouldn't hurt to remind them that that would not always be the case – to remind them that he was a dangerous enemy. Then, last in their grand sweep of movement slowly and deliberately, his eyes went to the man whose life was about to be on his head.

"Oh"

All the air in his body left him in one soft exhale, like he had been hit from behind.

Up until this moment, his perception had been spread as thinly as it could, to see and hear and sense as much as was possible in the widest area, but now everything shrunk down sickeningly fast to this circle of rock where he stood over the bowed man before him. The long blond hair obscured the face, but there was no way his first impulse had been wrong.

He should have guessed. Of course it was. Of course.

'One life…All we ask is for you to take one life…if you go back on your word…'

Loki thought he was going to be sick.

By this time they had undone the blindfold, and Thor raised his blue eyes to meet his. There was no surprise. Thor must have known what it was he would see. He gave Loki a rueful smile, a sort of who-would-have-thought-it'd-all-come-to-this.

Then Loki came slamming back into the world. He had to kill Thor. Had to. Or none of them would survive. He had to kill him.

"No." There were options, so many options, but it all boiled down to one outcome. One split-second, final decision. He couldn't kill his brother. "No. I can't." He stepped back involuntarily, away from the inevitable. Either way, Thor would die, but in one version-in one version they would die together – but so would all the others – all their people – he was responsible for them, he – he couldn't let that happen. There had to be another way –

"Brother," his eyes flicked to Thor, "it's alright," his voice was low, calm, "do it. It's better this way."

"No." his breath was pushing in and out of him, faster than it should have been, "I won't Thor. I - I can't -" It wasn't supposed to be like this. If they were going to die, it was to be glorious, not like this – not this -

"You must." Thor's eyes were sad, but not accusing, "I'm sorry, Brother, sorry it all came to this." he bowed his head as one who is very weary, brushed the long hair from the back of his neck in readiness – willingness - for the blow, "We'll meet again in Valhalla."

And that was when Loki snapped. The sword was out of his hand, cast somewhere behind him and he had dropped to his knees, "No, Thor. Thor, get up," he was fumbling with his hands, trying to push Thor to his feet, anything would be better than this passive submissiveness, "Thor, get up. I can't. I can't." He was babbling – he hadn't the faintest idea what it was he as saying – but Thor was trying to talk to him, his voice calm and sad but Loki could hear nothing through the panic that pounded through him. "Get up, Thor. Get up. Please, get up. I can't, Thor, I can't." Loki thought that maybe he was weeping, but he didn't know and he was past caring. Thor was too strong for him, like he always had been – it was almost funny, but Loki couldn't stop pushing him, begging, pleading – Something like a cool draft whispered across the back of his thoughts, and was gone. But it was enough. There was a crack, somewhere, and Loki retreated within his mind, throwing himself frantically against it again and again and again until with a desperate sucking, pulling feeling like swimming the last yards to the surface with no air in his lungs –

- Loki woke up.

It was dark, and he was alone in his own room, his heart pounding somewhere hard in his throat.

Thor. Where was Thor?

Still half-caught in the dream, Loki threw himself from his bed and stumbled out of the room.

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Thor's eyes opened. He glanced around, fully alert, as was his way in the morning. It was still dark, still only the small hours of the day.

So what was it that had waked him?

There was a movement and he turned to the door where Loki stood. He didn't move, and he didn't speak, but Thor could hear his breath, coming fast in ragged, uneven gulps, "Loki?" the boy shifted like he meant to move, but for some reason, he didn't, "Loki, what is it?"

Loki shifted again, unsure, then came across the room in three desperately fast strides and flung his arms around Thor's shoulders, hiding his tear-damp face in the side of his neck and pulling fiercely tight against him. Thor felt the way Loki was shaking and slipped his arms around the boy, "It's alright, Little Brother, it was just a dream." Shuddering, Loki pulled himself even closer and Thor grimaced a little, glad the boy's arms were about his shoulders and not his ribs, "It was just a dream."

~.~

Thor woke again several hours later. The cool morning air slipped into the room and the sky had paled along the horizon. It was morning. Time to get up and find out what new adventures would open out of the day. Thor moved a little, but was stopped and, puzzled, turned to his left where Loki lay, and remembered how he had come in all those hours ago. Loki hadn't spoken about what it was that he had dreamed, but that was normal. Loki rarely shared what it was that frightened him in the dark. But this time, it seemed, it had frightened him very badly. He had refused to allow Thor out of his reach, even now, in sleep, he was half hidden beneath the blankets, hands tangled into Thor's nightshirt, like he was afraid Thor might escape.

Thor had put an arm limply across the boy's thin shoulders as he slept, and now lifted it off, stiff from the odd position. Loki moaned, turning his head a little, and Thor froze. Usually, Loki was harder to wake than that. In fact, Thor could usually slip away entirely without him so much as stirring. Loki didn't move again and after a minute Thor relaxed. Then Loki caught his breath sharply and his eyes flew open.

Thor didn't know what to do, so he settled with a greeting, "Good morning,"

Loki groaned and pushed his face down into his arm, from which place Thor heard him grumble, "What are you doing here?"

"Me?" Thor laughed, "You're in my bed. What are you doing here?"

Loki's head came up sharply and he looked around the room, his brows darting together.

"Don't you remember?" Thor asked, "You came in late last night."

"Oh." Loki's face went dark for a minute, then blank, "No. I don't." and with that he slipped back down where Thor could see little else of him than the back of his head.

"Was it a nightmare again?" Thor leaned down, pulling the covers back to try and force Loki into conversation, "Was it the same one?"

"Which one?"

Thor blinked in surprise, he hadn't really expected an answer, "I don't know, you've never told me any of them,"

"Then why should I start now?"

"I don't know."

There was no further reply from the mound of blankets that was Loki.

Finally, Thor leaned down, "Why don't you tell me?"

No answer.

"Alright, you don't have to, I just thought it might help it to not come back."

Thor leapt out of the bed, snatched up his pants and slid them on, simultaneously tugging off his nightshirt.

"I told you," came Loki's muffled voice, faintly annoyed, "I don't remember."

Thor shrugged, tying a belt over his tunic, "Do you want to go and see what they're doing in the kitchens?"

"Don't you have anything better to do? Like sleep?"

"No. Are you coming?"

"Mmm, sleeping now."

"Fine. I'll see you at breakfast."

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Loki only lasted a few minutes after Thor left. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. It was still dark, so it should have been easy, but the dream was too vivid in his mind. And he was cold now, without Thor's arm across him. There was a distant crash, hardly noticeable it was so far away, and Loki jumped, nearly falling backward out of the bed. With an aggravated sigh, he scrambled out from under the blankets and went first to retrieve his clothes, and then to find his brother.

~.~

"I thought you said you were sleeping."

"I was trying to. You make it exceptionally difficult."

Thor chuckled, getting almost flat on his stomach to fetch the bun that had rolled out of his hand and under a nearby chair. Loki was on hands and knees nearby, helping in the gathering. He eyed Thor's antics wryly, "You know, if you try and pick up no more than one or two at a time, you are less likely to drop them."

"Yes but," Thor brushed off the wayward bun, eying it critically, "This way is so much faster."

Loki rolled his eyes, then asked, "Is this what you usually amuse yourself with in the morning while I and the rest of the civilized world are sleeping?" he turned his tone to one that was slightly more dramatic, "Is this what Asgard has fallen to? That her first-born prince, upon waking finds himself with nothing better to do than waylay hapless serving maids and frighten them so thoroughly that they drop scalding hot trays of buns all over the floors?" he shook his head in mock dismay.

"It wasn't like that," Thor protested, "She wasn't paying attention when I came around the corner. That's all."

"Yes. That's all." He let his voice go flat, "And then you woke me up."

Thor laughed, "You know Brother, I like rooting you out of bed in the morning."

"Mm-hmm?"

"Talking to you is rather like conversing with a wet hen."

Loki gave a sharp involuntary laugh and threw the bun in his hand.

In all honesty, Loki did mean for it to land in the basket, and not in the very center of Thor's forehead, but Thor just happened to be in the wrong place right then, and for whatever reason the oaf had felt some need to turn around at that precise moment, and however it happened, well, that bun never made it to the basket.

Nor did any of the others.

And most of the buns in the basket mysteriously found their way out of it.

And it wasn't long before both boys were found and unceremoniously dumped outside to entertain themselves "where they couldn't disrupt the lives of honest working-folk" until they were called in for breakfast.

And in Loki's defense, he had no idea what would happen when he conjured snakes to climb up the outside of the kitchen windows. He was bored, and how could he know that mass pandemonium would break out? Personally, he liked snakes, and didn't everyone know that snakes couldn't climb buildings? He got a stern reprimand from the cook for that, but it was worth it to see the faces of the alarmed girls, to hear how Thor laughed.

And it was Thor's idea, not his, to go and climb on top of the stable roof to get a look at what was happening so early in the morning. No, he hadn't tried to convince the dolt that horses slept upside-down, hanging from the rafters by their hooves. And no, Thor hadn't been three-quarters of the way convinced before deciding that he'd try to peek down through an old hole he'd noticed the day before in the roof. Yes he'd thought to warn the idiot that where a thing was so weak that it had holes of its own accord there was no way it could hold his weight, that was what had gotten him into this situation. Well, yes, Thor was bright enough to realize that Loki was the lighter of the two, but unfortunately, it hadn't occurred to him that Loki was only going to continue the ruse. And it wasn't Loki's fault after he had fallen in that Thor had decided it would be a good idea to, rather than find the stable-men and get them to open the door, or even climb cautiously onto the structure, get a running start and vault himself onto the building. It was a mercy that Thor was the only thing that had come through when he'd 'landed', and that Loki had had the sense to move out of the way as soon as he had caught his breath enough to do so – otherwise he would have been crushed to an untimely death by his over-zealous rescuer. And no, he wasn't laughing because it was a plan gone perfectly right, he was laughing because it was funny.

Maybe there was something to be said for rising early.

~.~

Needless to say, Father was not pleased. Not expressly angry, but certainly not pleased. And it didn't really help that Loki scared the maid serving their breakfast with a little grass snake scuttling across her path.

"What has gotten into you today?" Mother asked, her face furrowed with displeasure.

Loki shrugged, pushing down the memory of the still-too-vivid dream, not meeting her eyes for fear that, if he did, he'd tell her. She had that effect on him sometimes.

She turned her attention to Thor, "You should know better."

"I'm sorry Mother," Thor said contritely, eyes downcast, "I didn't mean to break the stable, or to make Loki fall in,"

Loki laughed sharply and his mother silenced him with a disapproving look.

Thor ignored the interruption, assuming he even noticed it, "Can I help the men to fix the hole, Father?"

"Perhaps."

Thor was silent a moment, looking down at his plate, then started up again, "Father?"

"Yes?"

"Will you come and watch Loki and I train today?"

"Thor, I am very busy,"

"Odin," Mother said pleadingly, "it's been so long since you last saw them; they are much improved,"

Loki watched quietly, breakfast for the moment completely forgotten. Mother often came to watch, or to say that she had, while in truth she had sat and placidly sewed, occasionally glancing up to see what they did. But Father…

"Frigga," he sighed.

She cut him off sweetly, "You don't have to stay long,"

"Please Father?" Thor begged.

Loki said nothing, but watched.

"Yes." Father finally agreed, looking at all of them in turn, "I will come to watch you train. Briefly."

"Thank you, Father! Yesterday, Tyr taught me…"

Thor continued to talk excitedly, but Loki had stopped listening. He smiled down at his plate. It had been months since Father had last come to watch them, and Tyr told him that he had improved much since then. He couldn't wait to show off what he had learned.

~.~

"Thor, you must hold still and study."

Thor leaned back in his chair, arching his neck to glare at his teacher without actually turning.

Loki rolled his eyes and tried to concentrate on the book before him.

"Why?" he demanded.

"Why?" Kvasir asked coolly, as if he didn't answer this question several times every day, "Because you are a prince and as such must be well educated."

"How does reading all this help me? It's rubbish!"

Kvasir made no reply.

"Besides," Thor continued, undeterred, "Our tongue translates automatically, why should we have to learn the other tongues as well?"

"Not on all realms, Thor, and not to all individuals. There are exceptions," he came behind Loki, "do you understand your reading?"

"What? Oh, yes. I like it."

Thor snorted, sprawled across the table, the book propped awkwardly before him, "At least someone does."

Kvasir sighed wearily, laying a hand on Loki's shoulder, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What?!" Thor shouted, throwing out his hands, staring in rage at his book, "That doesn't make any sense!"

Loki raised his eyebrows, "You can't have read more than a sentence,"

Thor glared at him, "Don't mock me, Brother, you understand these…" he paused, evidently looking for a word that amply summed up his disgust. Not finding any, he settled with "books, I have to do things! I can't just stay here and rot in this library and what will all these ridiculous lessons aid me in anyway?"

"Thor," Kvasir asked patiently, "what is it that confuses you now?"

Thor rolled his eyes, throwing himself against the back of his chair and folding his arms.

~.~

"And that takes us to the end of our time today,"

"Finally!" With a rush and a clatter like a whirlwind Thor was up and gone.

Loki blinked at the doorway, then stood, closing his book and putting it back in its place on the shelf.

Kvasir sighed, righting the chair Thor had toppled in his flight and gathering up the scattered books he had abandoned, "What did Tyr promise to teach him?" he asked in wonderment, "how to fling oneself safely from a trebuchet?"

"No," Loki chuckled, the image clear in his mind – Thor's hair rippling in the wind, waving some manner of weaponry - "though I'm sure he'd enjoy that," - scarlet cape billowing out behind him - he laughed outright, " No, Father's coming to watch us train for a bit."

"Ah, then you had best hurry. It wouldn't suit for you to be late."

Loki started to leave, then turned back, "Will you come?"

"I will, once I have finished putting these away."

Loki came around a corner and was met head-on by a clearly agitated Thor, "What's taking you so long? Come on, come on, Tyr won't let me start until we're both there!" he grabbed Loki's arm and began to run back the way he had come, dragging the younger boy roughly behind him.

They arrived, more or less unscathed, in the courtyard where they did the majority of their training. Mother sat on her stool under the overhanging part of the wall, calmly sewing. Father had yet to arrive. "I got him!" Thor shouted, finally releasing Loki's crushed wrist, "What will we train first?"

Loki rubbed his wrist, remembering the way the ropes in his dream had bit. He shook his head and tried, largely unsuccessfully, to clear it of thoughts the way Freya, his Vanir magic instructor, had taught him to.

Tyr grinned at them, well muscled arms folded across his chest, "I heard your father will be watching today," he was not a great deal older than Thor himself, a great hero to the boys of the city, and a great favorite of the maidens as well. He was, it was said - even at his young age - the best sword-hand in all of Asgard. He had a quick smile and a loud laugh that made him very popular with the palace people. Loki liked him well enough, but found his high-spiritedness unnerving. Being around Tyr for too long made him uneasy, though he'd never let another know that.

Loki was brought up out of his thought by the sound of Thor cheering. He blinked at him, startled, then turned to Tyr, who was watching him.

"You with us?" he asked.

Loki nodded, embarrassed.

"Alright," Tyr said, "Then, first we'll have you two spar,"

"What with?" Thor asked eagerly, almost prancing with excitement.

Loki watched his brother passively. His enthusiasm baffled him.

"Why don't we start with sword on sword? It's fairly straightforward and you've both shown great improvement in that area since the last time."

Father came in then and Loki grinned, suddenly nervous and excited. Tyr saw the look and turned. He bowed pleasantly, "AllFather,"

Father waved a hand, "Continue with your lesson," he said, then went and took a seat beside Mother. Kvasir followed him in in his usual quiet manner and stood calmly watching from the wall behind the King.

Loki bit his lip and turned to Thor, his heartbeat quickening. Thor's eyes were alight with eager excitement. Silently, almost as if this was a grand ceremony, Tyr went to the weapons' rack and took down a sword. He briefly tested its balance, checked to make sure it wasn't sharp, nodded in satisfaction and handed it to his elder pupil. He then repeated the process with a second blade, took the two strides to where Loki stood and pressed it into his hand.

The crowd of people - the dismayed murmuring – the weight of the blade in his hand. One life. His eyes darted to Thor. He heard a clatter and looked down to where the sword had landed. Thor was coming toward him, sword down, eyes worried, he was speaking, "Loki, are you alright?"

Loki wasn't sure he could speak, there were too many – too many people – Thor, Kvasir, Tyr, Mother…Father – he had to – desperately, Loki twisted himself away.

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"Will you come?"

Kvasir gave no thought to the answer, whatever needed his attention – not that much did – could wait. He was very fond of his younger charge, a sentiment that he could tell was reciprocated. "I will, once I have finished putting these away."

Loki smiled, a bit nervous it seemed, and left without another word. Well, who wouldn't be? When one's father was the AllFather, and King of a Realm that prided itself on martial ability, and one's elder brother was as physically adept as Thor had always been, one was left with much to live up to. And Loki was not of the same warrior spirit as his brother, his was the mind of a scholar, ever open to the beauty and wonderment of knowledge. He hoped for the boy's sake that this went well. Loki never spoke his desires plainly, but Kvasir could see how badly he longed to make his father proud.

Kvasir slipped the last displaced volume in its place and swept quietly out of his domain to the hallway where he met Odin on his way to watch his sons practice. He bowed slightly, "AllFather,"

Odin nodded, "Kvasir, my old friend, walk with me," when he had complied, the King continued, "Tell me of my sons. How go their studies?"

Kvasir grimaced, "As for your eldest, less well than I would like to report. I spend as much time correcting his temper as I do teaching his lessons. I find schooling him to be much the same as teaching a mule to dance."

Beside him, the King chuckled.

"He reminds me much, in his temperament, of one I knew in my youth, long before the kingship fell to him."

"Thor is young." Odin said, "He will yet outgrow his headstrong ways. And Loki?"

"His ability goes far beyond that which I would expect from one of his age. The only complaint I would make of him is that he is prone to distraction."

"And quite a distraction Thor makes."

"Indeed." Kvasir laughed.

The King laid a hand fondly on his shoulder, "I thank you for your efforts, my friend, do you care to come and witness their progress in these other lessons?"

"I do, my King, I was just making my way there now."

They walked together in amiable silence until they reached the door leading to the courtyard where Tyr trained the princes. Odin took his place beside the Queen, and Kvasir stayed standing behind them. He watched as the fiery red-head chose swords for the princes, checked their balance and sharpness, then handed the weapons off. Thor took his and immediately began the swirling motion one used to warm up the wrist for freedom of movement. Loki didn't move for a minute after receiving the weapon, just stood and looked at the blade in his hand, then dropped it, as if it had burned him. Kvasir straightened from his place against the wall. Something was wrong. Loki was visibly shaking, his eyes flicking quickly from his brother, to his hand, which he seemed to find surprised to be empty. Like something that transpired far away, Kvasir heard the Queen murmur in surprise. Thor was confused, coming toward his brother, "Loki, are you alright?"

Loki didn't answer - if he even heard, which, to Kvasir's mind, was debatable - his mouth pressed fiercely shut. His eyes, swept the group quickly, frantically, then, with a desperate sound like a sob, he conjured himself from their sight.

"Loki!" the Queen had stood, dismay apparent, "Where is he?"

"I don't know," Tyr looked as shocked as everyone else, blue eyes wide with surprise.

"What happened?" Frigga asked, moving toward him, "Has he ever done this before?"

Tyr shook his head, brow furrowed, "No, never, my Queen,"

"Kvasir?" Odin turned to him, expectant.

"I will find him," he promised, "but I make you no promise that he will complete his lesson for today."

"I'll go too," Thor said, but Odin laid a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"No, my son, you will complete your lesson."

Thor scowled, but made no move to disobey.

"Thank you, Kvasir," Frigga smiled at him through her mother's fretting.

Kvasir bowed, then turned and left the courtyard.

But once safely from their sight, he made no rush. If the boy had wanted to be followed, he would have used his feet, not his magic. There were only a few places that Kvasir deemed worthy of searching for him, and he would find him in one of them eventually. For the time being, there was nothing that could help the boy more than the space he had taken such drastic measures to find. Solace and direction would come when they could be more ably heard.

Kvasir wandered, slowly and patiently through the various places he thought likely, and finally, sometime after the boy's disappearance, he found him, in the oldest, and least frequented of the three palace libraries, deep in the farthest back places of the room, on a bench by a long, thin window overlooking vast expanses of trees. He sat sidelong, left knee up, arms wrapped protectively around it, leaving his right foot dangling toward the ground. It was clear from one look at the boy's face that he had only just recently finished a bout of weeping.

"Are you alright, Loki?" Kvasir kept his voice level and quiet, his movements slow. He didn't try to move in too close, but worked as if the boy were a wild thing, hurt and easily frightened. He had found in his experiences that this approach worked best.

"I won't hurt him." Loki said sharply, fiercely, turning to face him, "I-I wo-on't." he looked back to the window, lower lip caught between his teeth.

Kvasir slipped down, cross legged on the ground, allowing the boy a chance to collect himself. It wasn't such a rare thing, for him to find his younger charge in tears. Loki didn't have the ability of his brother or their friends to ignore the comments and subtle gestures others made. The things they said, off-hand to one another that never caused them to so much as bat an eyelash hurt him deeply, and he – with his child's pride – was unwilling to admit to the hurt. He would retreat deep into himself or far from the haunts of his friends and Kvasir was the only one who could draw him out again.

Sometimes Kvasir knew what had caused the moods, the outbursts, but today he didn't. He had thought it possible that something was amiss, but until Loki's flight from the courtyard, nothing serious had struck him.

"Why do we have to have dreams?"

Kvasir opened his eyes to find Loki, still on the bench, but now turned to face him, knees drawn up with his chin resting upon them, voice hoarse but steady.

"Dreams are the Norns way of telling us things we ought to know."

Loki was silent a moment, considering, then, "What do I need to know?" the question was raw and pleading, a tone the boy only used when they were alone and he was deeply confused.

"What is it you dream?"

His head went down into his arms, and for some time, Loki didn't answer.

A dream, then. That was what all of this had been about. Kvasir knew his younger charge was often troubled by nightmares, but rarely did they have anything near to this affect on his waking life.

Finally, Loki told him what he had dreamed. How he and his brother had been full grown, leading a war-host against an attacking army. He nearly laughed remembering how Thor had been just as rash and loud and reckless as a bearded adult as he was in youth, but then his face fell, "…until the end," his eyes flicked away, off to the side.

"What happened at the end?" Kvasir prodded gently.

Loki took a breath, "All my men were killed…and I was captured. Thor and I were leading different groups and I thought he must have been safe…I thought…I didn't – I didn't know –"

The boy was beginning to get excited again, Kvasir raised his hand, "Shh," effectively silencing him.

After a moment, Loki continued, slowly, carefully forming the words, "They told me that many of our people had been captured, and that if I didn't agree to kill one of them in cold blood," he was talking faster, "they would all be executed…So I – I said yes. I didn't know what else to do, and when I got there…" he trailed off, but Kvasir could guess what it was he was unwilling to say.

"They asked you to execute your brother."

Loki nodded, rubbing at his eyes, keeping one arm firmly locked about his knees, "And he told me to do it – Thor, I mean – he just," Loki gestured widely with his hands, "he just…gave up. He told me he was sorry, that he'd meet me in Valhalla," the rapid flow of words stopped suddenly, and when Kvasir looked up, he saw him starring quietly at the ground, his mouth shut like a trap.

"Did you do it?"

Loki looked up, startled, "No," he shook his head, "no, I dropped the sword and I – it all got confusing," he leaned his forehead into his palm, "I was trying to get him to get up, and I didn't have the sword, and I was shouting and I was on the ground next to him…then I felt something change – a way out – and I took it."

"You woke yourself up?"

Loki nodded.

"Were you afraid when you woke up?"

There was a pause, then, "Yes."

"What of?"

"I was afraid that Thor was hurt," he shifted, "but he wasn't, he was sleeping, and it was all just a dream."

That last phrase had the tired feeling to it of something one has repeated a thousand times and still doesn't quite believe, even through the fervent desire to believe it. "Then why were you afraid?"

Loki opened his mouth, then closed it. He shook his head, exhaling sharply in annoyance, hands spread, "I –" he was looking for the words, "I don't want it,"

"What?"

"I don't want him to let me do it," Loki turned back to him, eyes desperate again, "why didn't he stop me?"

"Mayhap he thought it the best course of action."

"No." Loki shook his head, eyes closed.

"Why not?"

Loki's eyes flew open, shocked, "'Why not?' I–I can't – Thor…I couldn't – I–I can't,"

Kvasir smiled at the boy and waited for him to stop stammering, which, eventually, he did, "Loki," he said.

The boy looked up at him with something like trepidation.

"You love your brother very much, don't you?"

Loki nodded mutely, seeming mildly confused, but exhausted beyond further questioning.

Kvasir stood up, whipping off his hands, "Well then, I suppose that settles it."

"What?" the question between his brows was almost comical.

"Why, my dear boy, the message the Norns sought to impart," he smiled down fondly at his younger charge, "That was all they wanted you to know."

"That I love Thor? But I," he blinked, puzzled, "I knew that,"

"But how well did you?"

Loki was silent a moment, considering. Then he snorted, "If that was all they wanted me to know, couldn't they have told me some other way?"

Some way that hurt less and made more sense. Kvasir spread his hands, "It is not the way of the Norns. They are creatures of fate, and as such, they do not have emotions like ours. This can mean that their ways seem to us to be harsh and unfeeling, but in truth, theirs is the best way. Would you have believed them otherwise?"

The boy sighed, shifting to look out the window, "I suppose not."

Silence reigned in the dim room for the better part of a minute during which neither spoke nor moved before Loki broke it asking, quietly, "Was Father upset?"

Kvasir heard the slight nervous edge in the tone, and noted the way Loki kept his eyes to the glass. "No, just concerned after your welfare,"

Loki did not seem convinced.

"I have known your father since I was hardly older than your brother. He was not angry," Kvasir stepped toward him, laying a hand lightly on Loki's shoulder, waiting for the boy to make eye contact.

Loki lifted his face to see him.

"Nor was he disappointed."

Loki's eyes slid away to the glass and he turned his head. Kvasir was unsure that the boy quite believed him, but it was not his job to prove it. That particular task belonged to the boy's father. He'd have to mention it to the AllFather when next they spoke.

"Any more questions?"

Loki shook his head.

Kvasir gave his shoulder a slight squeeze, then released him and began to move toward the door.

"Kvasir?"

He turned.

"Thank you."

He gave the boy a slight bow, and left the room.

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"Thor,"

"Loki!" Thor dropped the knife he'd been examining as he walked to meet the others and spun around – all else forgotten - overjoyed at the return of his younger sibling. It'd been a long time – Loki had missed the entirety of their weapon's class – and he had been worried.

Loki fell back a little, startled.

Thor pressed on, hardly noticing, "Are you well? What happened? You disappeared –"

"No, I teleported, that's different."

"But you are well?"

"Yes. Thor –" Loki fidgeted and Thor tipped his head to one side, about to ask what troubled him when Loki darted forward – much as he had the night before – and embraced him, "I love you," then, before Thor had a chance to respond he released him and stepped back, "so – just - don't do anything stupid."

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Thor's brows darted together comically, "Me? Stupid? Surely you jest, Brother,"

Loki snorted, barely keeping himself from grinning, "Surely not. Was it not only this morning that you catapulted yourself through the roof of the stables?"

"To rescue you!"

"Psh," Loki waved one hand dismissively, "I would have been fine."

Thor put his hands on his hips, face determined, "I am your elder brother, and I will always look after you, even if you think you need it not."

Loki laughed, trying not to think of all the times that hadn't been the case (but it wasn't Thor's fault, not really), "Grand words, even for an oaf who doesn't know when he's been beaten," he left the teasing, tantalizing note to his voice that he knew Thor would chase after, every time.

Sure enough, Thor did, much enraged, "When was I beaten? And by who?"

"Whom," Loki corrected smoothly, "By me, of course, your 'helpless little brother' who beat the stuffing out of you with dinner buns!" it wasn't quite the right way of it, but it was funny, and so, he laughed.

So did Thor, "That was hardly a fair fight, Brother,"

"Only because Hlin chased us out,"

"Do you want a rematch to prove it?"

Loki pursed his lips, tipping his head to one side in mock consideration, then, after a moment he shook his head dismally, "Only if you can catch me."

And before Thor could make up his mind what Loki had meant, he was off.

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"I don't know, Frigga, it seems every time I turn around there's some new trouble those two boys are getting into."

Frigga laughed fondly at her younger maidservant, "They're just boys, Hlin. They're sure to grow out of it."

Just then there was a crash at the end of the hallway. "LOKI!" Moments later Frigga caught sight of the younger boy, flying past the door with Thor not far behind him. She heard Loki, out of breath but laughing delightedly as he ran. Both boys were grinning widely. All this she took in in a moments glance, and her anxious heart was soothed.

Hlin turned back to her after they had gone, a dry look on her pretty face, "For the Realm's sake my lady," she sighed, "I hope you're right."