I had little plot bunnies around 2 in the morning so I came up with this chapter. I've been reading so many dark and depressing Loki fics, so I wanted to write something fun and cute (and I have a huge soft spot for young/baby Loki fics!)
There will be a few more chapters eventually, all one-shots of little snippets in Loki's life. Enjoy!
The little prince sat at the edge of his bed, watching out his window in idle amusement as the whole kingdom bustled about in preparation of Thor's upcoming birthday. The ever beautiful city was polished from top to bottom, fresh flowers blooming in every window and corner. People walked around with an even greater sense of community, sending wishes of goodwill to anyone who passed.
Eventually Loki grew bored. He did not envy the people who so easily conversed and were so filled with joy around this time. He honestly just did not have any yearn to take part in the preparation festivities, not that a prince was expected to. Loki had spent most of his young life so far watching others talk and interact, preferring to observe. He enjoyed picking apart the motives of each person, the manners in which they spoke, and the psychology behind many common pleasantries. Today, however, this did not seem as satisfying. He knew his mother, whom he loved more than anyone, was doting over Thor (the only time of year she ever consciously paid more attention to Thor) so he went to find companionship elsewhere.
Most of the citizens were displaced on account of their unusual schedules for Thor's birthdays and so the few people he enjoyed were no where to be found. With no one around whom were aware of his usual restrictions, Loki ventured down into the lower floors of the castle. He held in giggles as he reached floors that even he and Thor together had never had courage enough to visit. Many were just rooms for handmaidens, but eventually Loki walked into a room that spread out into a short hall with a large door which was conveniently partially opened.
Loki took a deep breath and then slunk into the room, making no sound as he peered from behind a pillar at one of his parents friends, Tyr, who was weighing a spear in his hand. The one handed god suddenly hurled the spear, slicing through the target's center. Loki emitted gasp just as Tyr began to chuckle. "Prince Loki, I know you are behind there, wee one. You think I don't know the footfalls of one of my favorite boys? Come give me a hug you bugger." Loki was hesitant, then ran up and hugged the god who he usually revered as an uncle.
"What brings you here, sweetheart? Does Mother and Father know you're here?"
Loki looked away, bashful.
Tyr laughed again. "Ah yes, Thor's birthday, and an important one at that! You're probably bored up there aren't ya? I'm not one for all the pomp and circumstance either. Well, you can stay here as long as you-know-who's don't find out!"
The little prince smiled. He walked over to the plethora of weaponry laid out on the ground. Tyr picked Loki back up with his one hand and away from the neatly laid out tools. "Look, don't touch, Loki...why what do you like?" Tyr asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.
With one hand on the collar of Loki's layered clothing, he held the prince over the weapons and hovered him until Loki whispered "That one!" and pointed. "A javelin? It's twice the size of you!" Loki frowned in thought, carefully looking over the shiny ammunition. He pointed again. Tyr placed him back on the ground and rubbed his hand over his face. "No sweetheart, I don't believe a crossbow is right for you either."
Loki deflated, feeling embarrassed. Tyr sighed and looked over the haul and something caught his eye. He peered over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming, then grabbed a triangular blade that he had dulled one side of to hold. "Here, try this, but don't tell Mother!"
The prince held the cool metal in his hands, running his finger tips over the piece, keeping in mind the constant phrase of "Careful, Loki," Tyr said next to him.
"What is it? What do I do with it?" Loki asked.
"A dagger. And you cut your hair with it...or throw it."
The raven haired child tossed the dagger and it clattered to the floor a few feet from him. Loki flushed and he tried to leave, but Tyr pulled him back.
"Again. Now hold it like this..." Tyr moved Loki's fingers so they pinched the thin mental between his index finger and thumb with his other fingers grazing the metal as well. "Now flick your wrist and let go." Once again it clattered and spun in a circle until it finally lay motionless. Loki frowned, upset. He looked down, ashamed. Suddenly he felt the slide of cool metal placed into his palm again.
Tyr patted his hand. "It's okay to fail, sweetheart. Don't be discouraged. You have all the time you need to practice more and more until you get it right. Practice is good! And I'll be here to help you, I promise." Loki smiled.
For the next few months, Loki practiced. He practiced with anything he could find. After a month or so, Frigga was dumbstruck as to why Loki asked her for more quills every week only to find them sticking out at crooked angles from the walls of his room. Among the quills were miscellaneous pieces of armor from infant protective outfits, broken shoe buckles, buttons, and shards of a broken hair brush. Loki, though young, started doing a few push-ups every morning in order to battle the soreness in his arms after particularly long days of throwing.
Only at rare times could Loki sneak out into the castles garden to play with the sole dagger he had "stolen " from Tyr. He would spend every moment he had when he could be completely alone to calculate how the dagger moved when he threw it using different motions of his hand and wrists. Eventually, Loki found an opportunity to follow Tyr back down into the armory (as he learned it was called). When he saw Loki was following him, Tyr was prepared to give Loki another lesson in throwing daggers. However, before Tyr could say anything, Loki hurled the dagger with such precision that the target was ripped through, collapsed because it shredded the beam holding it up, and then embedded itself into the wall.
"Sweetheart! I believe we've found your weapon!" Though Loki would be primarily educated in magic, a day did not go by where Loki did not have at least one dagger on or near him, no matter what.