Mirror Image

Two sleek, powerful horses thundered across the iridescent bridge, the golden spirals of Asgard rising to meet them with every powerful forward thrust. To the casual observer, it would quickly become clear that this was a race of sorts; a challenge between riders, both of whom were determined to outmatch the other. Every face in Asgard would know of these youths on horseback, one the personification of masculinity and the other pale and wiry, yet most would never meet them. The boys were the embodiment of majesty; the People's Champion of Asgard and his raven-haired younger sibling.

The older boy was first to reach their destination, easing his tan horse into a walk when his eyes met the unearthly glow of the city gates. The grin plastered across his face was one of triumph and appeared as if it would not be removed from his visage for some time. In his mind, today had been a roaring success. His sharp-featured brother came trailing behind seconds later, avoiding his gaze as he halted his own mount and slunk from the saddle in silence. The blonde prince, still wearing a smile as stretched as the branches of Yggdrasill, saw fit to impede his exit, bounding over to clap a boisterous hand upon the younger's lean shoulder.

'Loki? What's the matter, bilgesnipe got your tongue?' He teased.

'Hardly, seeing as you have slain them all in your sport.' Loki curtly replied, forcibly shaking the firm grip away.

'Surely I did not?' The smile morphed into vague puzzlement. 'I could swear by Heimdall's Left Ear that you valiantly took down at least one.'

'You left me nought but squirrels!'

'Ah. Well for that I cannot truly be sorry; your party favours are of little use on such a hunt are they not? You understand that the heat of battle yields gifts to those who are bold, and Vanaheim will be truly grateful for it.' His low, rumbling laugh fell short when he noticed the vivid flash in his brother's stare.

There was a soft crackle of corporeal green sparks in the region of Loki's fingertips, only ceasing when the youth exhaled sharply and continued his approach to the palace in stony silence. There were dangers in belittling the youngest royal; the boy chose to wear his heart on his sleeve. The gentle goading had ceased only because of this fragility.

'Where are you going?'

'Forgive me, Thor, if I do not wish to bask in your all-consuming glory once more.' Came the snappish response.

'What's that supposed to mean?' Thor rounded on Loki, closing the gap between them with brisk, muscular strides. The smaller boy made a fruitless attempt to push past his renewed obstruction.

'Stand aside.'

'Not until you tell me the truth behind your words. I do not wish for us to fight.'

'If you do not wish for us to fight, then they mean nothing and you can continue to be as oblivious as ever.' These words, though tersely spoken, were chosen carefully so as to shield the truth. Unfortunately, this deceptive talent could fool all but those who knew Loki well. 'Now, let me pass.'

'Talk to me, Brother. Is it Father?' The joy of the hunt was fading fast, concern rising in its place. Thor received a bitter laugh as a reply.

'How can it be? He has found nothing but joy has come from his decision. As is our duty, I must be delighted that the Allfather is delighted.'

'Enough with the trickery;' Thor sighed. 'this is me whom you are speaking with. No front is required; speak your mind.'

Loki visibly deflated, then snarled like a wounded tiger. 'And therein lies our problem. Ever since the Allfather bestowed Mjolnir upon you, you have become insufferable! I refuse to tolerate your company any longer.'

'How so?' Thor was taken aback. Where was this coming from? His little brother had never displayed such resentment in the past.

'Again with the ignorance! You have possessed the hammer for less than two moons and you expect me to revel, nay, be worshipful of your most insignificant of victories with the rest of Asgard. Is it not enough that Father favours you enough to entitle you as Crown Prince? You, who would throw it all away to start a war for sport whilst I'm cast into the shadows!'

'Loki…surely you know that I do not think of myself in that light? My merrymaking is no more lavish than that of an infantryman, and our Father loves us in equal measure.'

'Clearly he doesn't care for me enough to christen me heir.' Loki replied smoothly, silencing Thor with a brief flick of a finger as his brother made to interject. 'My quarrel is not directly with you; you have always been this arrogant, Thor, and I have learnt to stomach that. No, what I despise is the way that he, and others, continues fawn over you night and day!'

Thor backed away angrily, no longer wishing to deal with another of Loki's childish tantrums. 'Enough with your self-pity! It neither suits you, nor will it force me to renounce my title! Go and take it elsewhere, for we are done.'

'You still don't get it, do you? You have even ensnared Sif in your thrall, and she has all the ice of Jotunheim in her heart!' Loki's usually cool and emotionless exterior had reached breaking-point; his brother had made the mistake of pressing for what ailed him, and would not be allowed to walk away now unscathed.

'Lady Sif is a proud and noble warrior….'

'Spare me the arse-fodder; we both know that she also follows you for different reasons.' There was bitterness in Loki's voice as he projected his form to recapture Thor's attention.

'Do you care for her?' Thor could no longer keep the note of surprise from his tone; this conversation had revealed too many of them. 'If so, I have no intention of pursuing Sif.'

'This isn't about me!'

'Really? This talk seems to have been about nothing else!'

'Fine then, go back to your adoring crowds. Leave me be and thus prove I am unwanted!' The illusion quivered.

'I desire no such thing.'

'Again with your desires; the epitome of your arrogance. Go! There will always be fresh quim for the Crown Prince of Asgard!'

'If you hate me so, then why did you come today?'

'To appease Mother.' There was a small smile, but it was one without mirth. 'Why else would I endure your company at present?'

'Will you not be content, Loki, until I reach the halls of Valhalla? Then will you be satisfied?'

'I do not wish death upon you Brother, but at least then people might come to notice my talents.' The younger boy muttered as he turned to walk away, arms hugging his chest in defensive protection as he allowed his doppelgänger to fade into non-existence.

The sparks were back, fiercer than ever, trailing from Loki's clenched fists as they fast enveloped his leather-clad body in an emerald aura. His power was strong yet emotionally connected, and the skill of control was challenging for even a normal adolescent to muster. The last time the young prince had been distressed, half of the palace's West Wing had been destroyed. His elder brother was well aware of this; a large section of his quarters was still being reconstructed.

'Calm yourself. This does not need to become unmanageable.' Thor warned in a soothing monotone. It couldn't quite rise above the heat of the conversation.

'I. Am. Calm.' The small reply came through gritted teeth.

'Your magicks are running rampant; clearly you are not. Take care, lest you destroy the Bifrost.'

'Leave me then. Your presence here irks me enough that I could do it.'

'Angry with me or no, I refuse to believe that. I will stay until I am assured that you have regained control.'

'I will not allow you to patronise me.' The words were accompanied by the ghost of a sneer.

'Loki, I seek no such thing; I merely wish to see you ca –.'

'I AM CALM!'

The scream was enough to send Thor flying twenty feet into the air, back towards the rainbow bridge and leaving a sizable dent in a bronze statue. When he regained enough sense to monitor his surroundings, he found that nothing else had been damaged, bar his statue's decapitated twin. Loki was to be found in a crumpled heap at the foot of the gilded city gate. It was evident, even from Thor's current whereabouts, that he had given himself up to tears. As Thor slowly, carefully returned to his brother's side, Loki's rant could be heard in whispers.

'….your name is known throughout the Realms and they all adore you. You don't see the way they look at me; your light is so bright. What good is a Trickster to them? Do I even belong in the House of Odin? I've heard them question it, I know; why you and I look so unalike. Is that why Father would rather accept your brutish rule over one of intelligence? If only I truly knew, I would accept it. Just, please, stop pouring salt into my wounds by parading his favours in front of me hour by hour….'

Thor cleared his throat, aiming for the deeper shade of vocals which would only occasionally surface when he needed to affirm his role as the older, responsible sibling. Loki instantly snapped to attention, and blue irises locked completely with green for the first time since returning from Vanaheim.

'I see your energy has dissipated. Good.' He gestured weakly, indicating that Loki was no longer glowing intensely enough to light all the corridors of Asgard. 'We are expected at the banquet; do you intend to play your part?'

'It's you that they want, Brother, not me.' Loki mumbled, breaking the gaze such as to retreat back into his own mind.

Thor sighed; Loki was at his most troublesome after a quarrel, in part due to the sheer amount of self-loathing that surfaced. Whilst anger was still brimming at the surface, the urge to remedy the situation was more pressing. Thor could be angry later, for the broken child at his feet was his much-loved little brother and therefore took precedence.

'Listen well, Loki; we are both Odinson, and nothing in all of the Nine Realms will change this fact. We may have our differences, but never doubt your value to me, nor my love of you. The same can be said of all our friends and kinsmen.' Thor cautiously approached his tearful companion and offered his hand with more patience than he could normally muster for anyone else. 'Will you come with me or no?'

Loki studied his brother's hand with curiosity for some moments. He accepted with a sniff and the sparkle of an illusion to rescue his shattered composure. After all, they were nothing if not tied by blood.

So what do you think? I know it's not my best writing, but I'm in the mood for a miniseries and there are definitely some concepts that I could roll with if people like the story enough. Please review! :) MC. xx