"You", Odin spat, "have said enough. I will not listen to your lies and accusations any longer."
The slender, dark haired boy looked like he was about to protest, but his father was furiously refusing to look at him, let alone listen to his reasons. The kid's delicate shoulders slumped.
"Yes, father", he murmured, his eyes on the marble floor. He waited to be dismissed, but his father simply ignored him, turning to his brother instead.
"Now, son, please explain to me what happened."
Loki snorted. It's almost like I haven't been telling you that for half an hour now.
He didn't even realize he'd made a sound until his father hit him squarely over one cheek, back handed, angry beyond measure.
"I swear, Loki, if it wasn't for your mother..."
Odin took a deep breath and straightened. Loki looked up at him, and then at his brother. The favorite son, he thought bitterly. No matter who had started it, no matter whose fault it really was – Thor always came out on top. Because the Gods forbid there might be a flaw in the prince's personality. It was always him, Loki, who'd talked his brother into all sorts of mischief, who'd used magic – the way Odin said it it sounded filthy, and vile – who corrupted the otherwise perfect Thor. He hated his father. He hated his brother. Well – no. He didn't. He loved Thor. He envied him – the way Thor seemed to get along with everybody, the easy smile that won children and adults alike, the effortless, almost careless way Thor picked up a new sequence during a fighting lesson, the way he seemed to get stronger every day. The way their father looked at him. Proud. Loving. Loki angrily swallowed his tears and stood taller. He met his fathers eyes, and the All-Father sighed.
"You will stay at the palace and repeat this morning's exercise. We both know you need it."
Loki clenched his teeth. Odin put a hand on Thor's shoulder.
"You will ride out with me, son."
Thor grimaced.
"Father, I'd really like Loki to join us. It's more fun when he's -"
Odin gave him a look.
"I know you're trying to defend your brother, and that's an honorable action, but I have made a decision. You will both obey me."
Thor mouthed 'sorry' behind Odin's back as they left the room together, but Loki didn't fully believe him. He felt like bursting into tears. He was proud though, and there were guards everywhere. He'd keep it together until he'd reach his quarters.
He did, but barely. The moment he pushed the door open the tears started to fall, and they weren't quiet, sad little tears, but angry, shuddering sobs. Before he even knew it, all the books from his shelf were scattered on the floor. He flinched but didn't do anything about it. Instead he threw himself onto his bed and buried his face in his arms. Ten minutes, maybe less. That's how much time he had before someone would invade his space and make sure he followed his father's order. Fresh tears welled up as he remembered the morning's lesson – a complicated sequence of steps and turns that might have been fun if Odin hadn't decided it was time for a broad sword. Loki hated that weapon. It was clumsy and too heavy for him, and it slowed him down and made him feel – and look – like an idiot who couldn't handle a blade. Now if he'd been allowed to use his daggers...he sat up and wiped the tears from his face, reaching under the bed and laying them out on the mattress. Two slender, identical daggers, wickedly sharp, slightly curved and perfectly balanced. His mother's gift for his last birthday. His father had laughed when he'd unwrapped them, teasing Frigga about giving their son "girl's toys". Loki had fallen in love with them right away.
He took one in each hand, somehow knowing instinctively which one had to go to which hand, and then he stood and started a sequence he'd come up with, slow, fluid movements that felt like a dance. The way the light bounced off of the blades made him smile, and without conscious thought he started humming a low melody, in time with his steps. The daggers' edges began to glow with a faint, greenish light, and the air around him seemed to contract, getting denser, muffling sounds, dimming light. He came to a halt and looked up – there was a perfect sphere of faint light surrounding him, slightly wider than he was tall, and he felt completely safe and secure inside it. A slow smile spread on his face. It widened when a guard entered his room after a polite knock – and looked right through him.
"Prince Loki? Your father - "
The man was obviously at a loss. He had seen the kid enter, and there was no other exit. Loki bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Behind the guard he spotted his mother. She took a step around the man blocking her view and started to grin. Turning to the guard she said:
"You are dismissed. Please report back in thirty minutes. Loki will be ready for his exercise by then."
The guard bowed his head and turned on his heel, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Mother and son burst out laughing, and Loki dropped his veil. Frigga rushed towards him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his forehead. Then she stood, straightened her dress and shook her head.
"Oh Loki. What am I supposed to do with you?"
He smiled up at her.
"Show me how to make that bubble bigger?"
Frigga snorted out a delicate little laugh.
"Alright. I will. On one condition."
Loki tilted his head.
"Give me your word, Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard."
Loki swallowed.
"To do what?"
"You will follow your teacher's instructions to the letter, and by the time your father returns, you will have mastered that sword sequence, flawlessly."
"Mother!"
"I'm serious."
"But -"
"Ah?"
He sighed dramatically.
"It's stupid."
"It's your father's command. You will obey him."
Loki sighed again, but they both knew he was defeated.
"Fine. You have my word."
And for the next half hour, Loki Friggason worked on his concealing spell, side by side with his mother, who gently guided him, encouraged him, comforted him when the veil ripped apart, and nudged him to try again. By the time the guard reported back, he felt like he was a few inches taller.