I think this can be classed as crack.
Basically, Thor and Loki, of Asgard and Jotunheim, marry for peace. They don't like each other and in this fic they certainly won't be falling in love. (I like the arranged marriage leading to love trope but...I got bored.)
#
Loki keeps his manipulations quiet, nary a whisper tracing back to him as the culprit. He has no power here, no real leverage in this gleaming court of gold and so to be caught would spell out disaster for him.
Sometimes he thinks that Odin, King, Allfather, knows his actions are far from pure. That when some mischief has been caused Odin's eye lingers on his for a fraction too long to be entirely comfortable. It is of no matter. As long as these suspicions do not grow, that there is no proof, then Loki is secure. It would be nice to have wormed his way into Odin's heart but he had had no misconceptions when he first arrived in Asgard, payment for the treaty and guarantee all in one.
Odin is King of Asgard and as such he does not have a soft heart even for those closest to him. Loki knew even as a child that attempting to get one such as he to soften to him would be impossible. He does not try, it would only inspire distrust.
What he does, however, is make sure that Odin sees him as an important piece on the board, that he has power in his own right and that his mind could be a priceless ally. Or a formidable enemy.
The Queen, Frigga, is gentler. Loki does not mistake this as weakness. Frigga wields her love and affection with strength and the sort of fair play that cuts deep but is true. Loki likes her company and fancies that she too, likes him, but that will not save him if his schemes come to light.
The Crown Prince's closest friends, warriors, some of Asgard's finest, distrust Loki.
It isn't that he is born of Jotunheim so Loki at least respects their distrust as it is founded in reason, not blind prejudice. Loki is from a foreign realm, from a foreign court and is the son of a foreign king. All of these facts are reason enough to distrust his part in the court of Asgard. Plus, his tricky nature does not endear him. The four of them worry for their friend, worry for Thor and Asgard. Loki does not particularly like them but he has no cause to dislike them either.
The same can not be said for most of the court who pepper him with insulting questions, who tell him he must be so grateful to live in Asgard and escape the icy depths of Jotunheim.
Loki has never learnt the art of biting his tongue, fortunately most of his wit flies over the worst of the lots heads. He has noticed the Queen once or twice hiding a smile behind her goblet after a verbal parry.
Loki has been treated with courtesy in this strange realm which is better than he had hoped for.
Of his spouse...that is another confounding matter entirely. Loki can't quite decide if he hates him or pities him. The poor, arrogant fool. He leans towards true dislike.
#
"If you tell him plainly of the things you dislike it would suit you both better." The Lady Sif says, a few weeks after the hand fasting ceremony, where Loki and Thor officially married.
Loki lifts his head from the book in his lap and blinks, drawing his mind away from the complex algorithms that form the basis of understanding of the Bifrost's mechanisms and to the image of the warrior who looks vaguely uncomfortable at being in his presence.
"I do beg your pardon, but what exactly are you referring to?" He asks, politely. He has chosen to sheathe his vipers tongue for the moment until he has better understanding of how it would go down in this court.
She shifts awkwardly. To unnerve her more Loki clears space on the seat next to his and gestures that she should sit. She takes it without hesitation, not unsettled about sitting so close to one of the Jötnar.
"Thor." She states, as though waiting for him to connect this new information to what she is talking about. He has a vague inkling but he does not like to be treated as stupid so he frowns in puzzlement.
"He is not unkind but he can be somewhat oblivious." She ploughs on and Loki realises she is not uncomfortable because of his presence but because she is taking a path built on words rather than that of the battle field. None of Thor's friends are particularly eloquent, Loki has noticed.
"And so if something displeases you, you must state it directly." She finishes.
Ah, Loki does know what this is about then. Apparently his circulatory manner of speaking has confounded Thor enough to seek aid.
"Must I?" He enquires lightly, tilting his head. Sif looks at him, her dark eyes narrowed at his honeyed tone. He has surprised her.
"It would make your marriage more amiable." Sif answers as if she is just realising that making the marriage easy for Thor is perhaps not what he wants.
"And why should I change my habits?" He questions, leaning back in an elegant sprawl.
Sif opens her mouth and then closes it. Not overly willing to be led into a trap. It seems she hides some brains under that warrior masquerade.
Loki has not gained all he had in Jotunheim by asking people directly for his wants. He would have simply been laughed at and laughter at his expense stings his pride most cruelly. Loki was the first born prince of Jotunheim so technically he should be the one in line for the thrown. Alas his claim is behind that of his two younger brothers, for his stature and now for his marriage.
Laufey had been pleased when his shape shifting ability was realised as a young child. It meant there were more avenues open for Loki, like in this case where he is playing the 'wife' of Thor. Whether he is male or female does not matter as he can transform from one to the other so as to bear children or sire them.
"For the sake of Jötunheim and Asgard don't you wish to get along with your husband?" Sif eventually counters. Loki smiles thinly.
"But of course." He answers as he must.
"Then as both of you will have to compromise to achieve this, it wouldn't be just you changing."
Ah, if only Sif were more practiced in word games. This might have been fun with an able opponent.
"You are quite correct, my Lady, but I have little notion as to how my preference of drink at breakfast is anything to do with the continued peace between our realms." Loki deliberately gives her an opening, to see what she will take from it.
"Better unity between you and Thor would lead to a firmer peace." Sif says staunchly.
"Possibly." Loki inclines his head. "Well, I shall be clear for the sake of our marriage that I prefer water with my meals."
The exasperation that crosses Sif's face is most pleasing.
#
The incident with the Casket and the few unfortunate Jötnar was not one of his best plans, Loki admits to himself.
The plan wasn't supposed to work so in that it was successful. It was in truth more of a stalling tactic than anything else (Loki has more power under Odin and Frigga's reign than he looks to have during Thor's, no matter that they are married) but it wasn't supposed to go so supremely wrong either.
That Loki wanted the Casket was not of import. It is not the correct time. The Jötnar were supposed to 'discover' the cracks between the realms which they had but apparently Loki forgot to factor in the issue of the portals that, by dint of staying out of notice, occasionally move around.
It was supposed to show Odin that Thor was not yet ready for the responsibility of the crown, that under Thor's rule Asgard would fall to war. Loki does not much care for Asgard itself but there is little point being wed to the king of an ailing realm and the power Asgard holds is not unappealing. Loki needs to have Thor under his thumb before he comes to rule otherwise there is little point to their marriage. Well, little point for Loki, anyway.
Loki agreed to the marriage for his own gain. Not for trite things like peace.
It seems that peace wasn't on Thor's mind either. The moment that they are told what has happened Thor flies into the kind of rage that is battle fever.
Loki can see how little an impression he has made upon Thor as Loki is completely forgotten by the crown prince as he eagerly declares war on Jötunheim for the actions of few.
More than a few awkward glances are shot in Loki's direction, embarrassed on Thor's behalf. Loki keeps his face carefully blank as Fandral guides him out of the room, the others following, leaving the Crown prince and his father alone.
"He will apologise later." The Queen promises gravely, before she excuses herself to deal with the fallout in the hall of the botched ceremony.
"I wouldn't worry, Prince Loki, Thor has a temper but it will cool." Fandral says with false lightness, looking worriedly back to the room they have just left.
"Before or after his words have landed us in war?" Loki asks sharply.
He leaves Thor's friends awkwardly trying to come up with an appropriate response to the Jötunn prince in their midst.
Loki is not a fool. He knows the best cure for Thor's temper is time. However, he finds himself seeking out the prince nonetheless, perhaps to dangle in his face the fact he has married one of the people he seeks to bring war to or maybe to try and needle him.
He finds his errant husband amidst the wreckage of what had once been a grand table of food.
"It is not wise to be in my presence at this time, my friends." Thor says.
"Who said I was wise?" Loki asks. Thor's head jerks up, he blinks in surprise when he sees Loki. Loki gives him a thin smile.
"I take it there is to be no war then." Loki says, with some satisfaction. Thor's face darkens.
"Aye. Father would have us cower in Asgard while the Frost Giants go unpunished for their deeds."
Loki looks at him for a long moment his own temper reaching the boil.
"You would go to war over the actions of few?" He asks, hoping for some sense of reason with which to work with. Thor scowls at him openly, the first true hostile response Loki has garnered in their marriage so far.
"You would be pleased. The attempt to steal the Casket being swept under the carpet."
Loki narrows his eyes.
"I am pleased to avoid war." He says tightly, probably not for the reasons most people are but there is little advantage to be gained during war and afterwards people spend too long picking themselves back up for Loki to find a source of amusement. Although, furthering his own ends through war is a challenge. One that looks more and more appealing the longer he spends in Thor's presence.
"Of course you are." Thor snorts dismissively.
"And what do you mean to imply with that?" Loki hisses.
"Seeking words instead of battle, sneaking around. The actions of a coward not a warrior." This open disdain that Thor treats him with, no, the dismissive disdain he carries for Loki is the worst kind of bait. You can hate Loki, despise him, just do not ignore him.
"You are seeking a fight." Loki sneers, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Thor looks him up and down and laughs. It isn't a kind laugh.
Loki punches him.
Thor actually looks fairly shocked by the blow, one solid enough to rock him back a bit. Loki might not have the strength of the Jötnar but he is not weak. Thor bears his teeth and lunges.
It is a brutal fight. Loki uses elbows and knees with abandon, aiming for sensitive areas like the place between Thor's thighs and his throat. Loki has never heard the words a 'fair fight' when the deck has always been stacked against him in Jötunheim.
Eventually Thor manages to use his bulk against Loki and pins him to the ground, squashed in a parody of a lovers embrace. Loki struggles in the hold but Thor just hangs on tighter.
"Yield." Thor orders. Loki stills and brings the ice up from his blood. Thor lets go of him with a gasp, skin blackening where ever it was pressed against Loki's own. Causing damage through their skin to warmer blooded beings is one of the first skills the Jötnar learn. Their skin is not naturally harmful unless the ice is brought forth.
Before Thor can react Loki presses him up against the wall, a small dagger of ice against his throat. Thor glares but doesn't move.
"I have fought to maintain my place against people bigger and stronger than me. I have spent a lifetime besting those who scorned me. What makes you think you stand a chance against all that?" Loki asks, plunging the dagger into the wall beside Thor and removing only a single lock of Thor's hair. It is a warning.
"If I had used my hammer then this fight would have ended very differently." Thor says.
"If you had used Möjlnir then I would have used my magic. You are right, it would have ended differently. The fight would have been much shorter." Loki smirks.
Thor glowers but before he can retort someone else speaks first.
"Oh good, they aren't going to kill each other." Fandral says slightly faint.
"The day isn't over yet." Volstagg mutters.
Loki blinks as he realises the audience, Thor's friends, he does not know when they got there. He looks at Thor who has bits of food smeared over him, bruises blooming and several bite marks visible. He must look just as bedraggled. Although Thor did not use his teeth in the fight for some reason. Moron.
Loki runs a hand over his face, restoring his form to that of an Æsir and letting a glamour cover the stains on his clothes and the bruises.
"My friends, just in time. We travel to Jötunheim." Thor announces. Loki glances at the ceiling, he had thought they had settled this.
"Madness." Fandral declares, glancing between Thor and Loki. "Utter madness."
"Thor, of all the laws of Asgard this is the one you must not break." Sif warns.
"This isn't like a journey to earth where you summon a little lightning and thunder and the mortals worship you as a god. This is Jötunheim." Fandral scoffs.
"If the Frost Giant's don't kill you, your father will." Volstagg adds, piling a neatly sliced selection of cheeses onto some bread.
"My father fought his way into Jötunheim, defeated their armies and took their Casket."
Loki stiffens, once again forgotten as Thor courts war.
"We would just be looking for answers." Thor wheedles.
"It is forbidden." Sif says firmly.
"Come, my friends, have you forgotten all we have done together?" Thor looks at his friends. "Who brought you into the sweet embrace of the most exotic maidens of all of Yggdrasil?"
"Oh, you helped a little." Fandral sniffs.
Loki narrows his eyes, what exactly counts as 'exotic' to the Æsir? Presumably Loki falls into the category.
"And who led you into the most glorious of battles." Thor turns to the quietest of his friends.
"You did." Hogun answers.
"And to delicacies so succulent you thought you had died and gone to Valhalla?"
"You did." Volstagg admits, adding a slice of tomato as a garnish to the towering creation pretending to be a sandwich.
"And who proved wrong all who scoffed at the idea that a young maiden could be one of the fiercest warriors this realm has ever known?"
"I did." Sif says pointedly.
"True, but I supported you. My friends, trust me now, we must do this." Thor beams at his friends.
Loki feels positively sickened by the sentimental display.
"Besides, we are going as a diplomatic endeavour only." He says with what he probably thinks is a sly expression.
"How so?" Loki asks dryly. Contemptuously.
"We are seeking answers. And besides, with you along to ensure safe passage it is a simple matter." Thor slings an arm over his shoulders and squeezes tightly. Evidently this is not a request. Loki fights to keep his body relaxed and beats back the urge to take a swing at Thor encroaching on his personal space. He is angry enough to go along with this charade; Laufey will easily put Thor in his place. Besides, Loki has missed Jötunheim.
"I am at your service." Loki says sweetly, ducking his head to hide his eyes which often reveal his true emotions and betray him. Sif, Fandral and Hogun stare at him with suspicion. He can't blame them. Volstagg probably would too if Thor hadn't chosen that time to slap him on the back, jolting him into knocking his precious creation of food onto the floor.
The gatekeeper lets them through without trouble. Loki discretely sends Frigga a note, curling the paper around his hands and sending it with a breath to fly to her.
The moment they land in Jötunheim, upon the ice fields that in the chill of summer produce berries of a deep green colour, so deep it is often mistaken for black, that are a known delicacy and rare enough to be highly traded for in other realms.
Loki leads them down, through the snow banks that cover the delicate sharp glass like blossoms, over the arena where histories are told, people acting the parts like it is their life and through to the palace where Laufey usually resides.
It is the meanest palace in Jötunheim, more what was once a fortress than a place for kings but Laufey chose to reside there. Without the Casket it is far more difficult to repair and build the structures they live in. Loki is too young to remember a time with the Casket; it is difficult for him to recall that once everyone could do what he can do with the ice so long as they had the Casket as a power source.
Loki revels in being home, delights in the wind that seeks through every gap in his clothing to caress his bare flesh. He keeps his eyes on the sky, darker than that of Asgard, it's sights more subtle and gentler on the eyes. Somehow, the darkness of it all makes the realm seem all the more vast. It feels like he could run and run, fly through the wind, and never come across anyone else. Asgard is very different, around every corner there is someone new, and there is always structure upon structure built on the ground. Sometimes it makes him feel trapped, caged in.
A brace of sprites dance freely, drawing closer in curiosity before flinging themselves away again, a game to catch them. The patterns of each are as individual as snowflakes only instead of being too small to see each one is the size of his hand, glittering with the fierce light of fresh cut ice. They are lovely and untouchable.
Loki stops and watches them for a while, eyeing their darting movements before reaching out as though to touch. He breathes out, cooling his breath so that it forms a heavy mist that is not quite ice and sends it in spiralling patterns like a gust of wind to buffet the sprites.
The sprites laugh, a chatter much like the crush of ice underfoot.
"The small prince. The runt." They whisper, light, voices a cool touch of frost.
"Tooth fairies." Loki returns with a smirk as they hiss in offense.
"Back. Here with friends. Warm blooded, shall we touch?" Their voices fall overtop one another, a meltwater stream, refreshingly chill.
"Preferably not." Loki says, looking at the five Æsir who are watching somewhat incredulously, their cheeks reddened with cold. Fandral's furs are pulled as close to his body as possible.
"Shame."
"You would melt." Loki tells them.
"And then reform." They counter.
"Tell me, what mood is Laufey king in?" Loki enquires, better to seek out the terrain.
"In no moods." They answer cheekily. "Rooms though, yes. Throne rooms especially."
"I see." Loki frowns. That implies nothing good. Laufey is very good at twisting words to suit but tends not to bother when cross. Laufey is never pleased when in the throne room.
"Brooding, changeling, should laugh, should play." The sprites tease, grabbing a lock of his hair and tugging.
"I have not the time at the moment. Thank you for the talk." Loki says with a bow, looking to where Thor is visibly bristling at the small delay.
The sprites tug at his hair once more before releasing it with a cackle and rushing away with one of the jewels from his torc.
Loki sighs, the sprites are troublesome but make up for it by having information when Loki asks. And when they remember to stay silent are the best of spies.
"What are they?" Hogun asks, watching them leave with a curious expression.
"Sprites. Mischievous creatures who like nothing more than playing games." Loki answers. "They usually only talk to the children."
Thor snorts. Loki stiffens but does not respond other than to thin his lips.
There are guards waiting by the time they reach the fort, alert and ready.
"Brother." A familiar voice calls before a hand is placed on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. They are not a demonstrative family so even this much is unusual. Apparently Helblindi missed him.
His younger brother is average height for one of the Jötnar, so more than a foot taller than Loki and about twice as broad.
"You are wearing a glamour." Helblindi says, glancing him over.
"Yes." Loki agrees.
"You are not injured?"
"Merely vain." Loki smiles thinly. Helblindi snorts before glancing round. Býleistr is nowhere to be seen. There are questions in Helblindi's eyes but he does not voice them, there is no point, all will become clear soon. A small flash of silver catches Loki's eye and he reaches out to discretely tap at the broach on his brother's shoulder.
"I see you couldn't wait to follow in my footsteps, brother dear." He says, all milk and honey. Helblindi rolls his eyes, they are not much apart in age and Loki's actions seem to exasperate Helblindi more often than not.
"It was tactical." Helblindi explains his reasoning.
"Yes, and the fact that you two have been mooning over each other for eternity has nothing to do with it?" He asks lightly. It is far from unexpected, really, Loki had bet that Helblindi would have married centuries ago and consequently lost a choice pair of daggers. Helblindi does love to thwart expectations.
"It was done in haste; there was an issue at the gorge." Helblindi says, apologetic at not having sent a letter with the news before hand.
"May it be a happy joining." Loki says, a little cynically but as sincere as he can. Helblindi shoots him a sceptical look. Loki's version of sincere sounds the complete opposite he knows.
They are nearly at the throne room now when a child steps into view. He is as tall as Loki but broader.
"You promised you wouldn't leave." Býleistr says quietly, accusingly.
"I did." Loki agrees voice just as small.
"You lied." Býleistr notes.
"Yes, I did." Loki agrees, his youngest brother is an odd child. Quiet and almost ponderous. He seems not to understand sarcasm which makes conversation with him difficult for Loki.
"Why did you go?" Býleistr asks.
"Because I had to." Loki looks at him. Býleistr had been away by the time it came for Loki to leave for Asgard and he had not had the opportunity to come to him and explain. The wedding was not supposed to have taken place for at least another century. Loki still does not know why the Allfather rushed it. If he had to guess though it would be because of Thor's upcoming coronation and perhaps the vain hope that a consort might exert some sort of control over Thor, or at least quell some of his hot head.
"Why?"
Loki sighs.
"You remember your lessons in the library, the ones on Asgard and the history our realms share? You remember the treaties?"
Býleistr nods. Likely as not he remembers them word for word. Loki may be the cleverest of his brother's but Býleistr's memory is second to none. Thank the ice that Helblindi is in line to take the throne.
"Well, one of the caveats was a joining between the realms. I married the crown prince of Asgard so there might be peace between our realms, through us and through our children." Loki explains simplistically. He doesn't bother going into his particular motivations, it would just confuse his brother.
"Now you are married could you not come back?" Býleistr points out, very reasonable in his mind.
"I am afraid it doesn't work like that."
"Why not?"
"Because..." Loki trails off and wracks his brain for a metaphor that might make sense to his very literal brother.
"You know dowries are paid for marriages to take place?" Helblindi takes pity on him. Býleistr nods. "Well, Loki is a dowry to keep peace." Helblindi says, straight-faced.
"But what is our dowry in return?" Býleistr asks, puzzling it out.
"Our new brother-in-law." Helblindi says, because he can be a complete and utter sprite sometimes. "Prince Thor." Helblindi continues, placing a hand on Thor's shoulder, covered by his cape. Býleistr looks him up and down.
"But he is small and strange looking. I don't think he would last in the snow." Býleistr probably thinks he is speaking quietly. Loki can see Volstagg bite his lip in effort not to laugh and Fandral is grinning widely. Loki is careful not to look at Thor.
"No, he probably wouldn't which is why we both have to live in Asgard." Loki attempts to explain. Býleistr nods, a small frown saying he still doesn't quite understand.
"Are you ill?" Býleistr asks, reaching out to poke Loki's cheek.
"No." Loki answers, batting away the finger irritably. "I am simply wearing an Æsir form, they are a different colour of skin to us, brother." He gets a careful nod in response.
"Can we get on with our task?" Thor asks rudely. Loki glowers. This is the first time he has seen his brothers since he left Jötunheim, he would have appreciated a bit more time to talk to them.
"It is just the longer we tarry the more chance we have of being found out." Fandral points out with an inoffensive smile. That is true, this is an unsanctioned mission, Loki realises, but they are going to be caught no matter what. He sent a note to the Queen, after all, which she will share with the Allfather.
"As you wish." Loki sighs. "Býleistr the best collection of the songs of the Vanir is in the section of the library under the sculpture of Brigg the Mighty," His youngest brother dashes off immediately, his serious expression lightening just a little. "Helblindi, congratulations, truly." His brother nods and straightening, leads them into the throne room.
"Now what might six Æsir be doing in Jötunheim, so far away from your little realm?" Laufey asks, voice lilting in the way it does when a cat plays with a mouse between it's paws.
"Greetings, mother." Loki says with a bow, a tight, razor sharp grin on his face.
"Oh, is that you? I didn't recognise my eldest." Laufey grins in a bearing of teeth.
Loki doesn't wince at the jab, like Laufey didn't make notice of his. It is a game, a dance and they are both proficient at it.
"Hmm, well you have been busy recently. I shall forgive the lapse." Loki says lightly, watching Laufey's face intently while looking like he was doing the complete opposite. Laufey's face stills a little, ah, so he didn't send the Jötun then.
Thor, apparently unable to have the attention away from him for even a few moments, steps forward.
"Not long ago a group of Frost Giants attempted to steal the Casket from the vault." Thor announces. Loki resists the urge to put his face in his hands and the equally strong urge to throttle his husband.
"My...condolences." Laufey breathes, looking far too amused. There is calculation there, assimilating the new news.
"Did you send them?" Thor asks brusquely. Like the art of diplomacy is foreign to him.
"That would be a breach of the treaty." The King points out.
"Yes, it would." Thor's hand grips his the handle of Möjlnir.
"You think I would risk my son's life for a trinket?" Laufey says, all offense.
"I know not what you would risk for power." Thor returns, not taken in by the act.
Laufey laughs.
"Ah, you have married one who is as blunt as you are tricky." Laufey says to Loki, looking far too entertained. There is an edge there, too, Thor's slights have not been forgotten.
"Answer the question." Thor orders. Loki closes his eyes, does Thor not understand that he is in no place to order a King to do anything? Thor may be a crown prince but he is not a king and certainly not one the calibre of Odin who actually might have gotten away with ordering Laufey but wouldn't have done so because he would know what he was doing.
"He is going to get us killed." Fandral mutters faintly. Loki agrees with the sentiment.
"No. I did not send any of the Jötnar to Asgard." Laufey says, quietly, in the tone of voice that Loki knows full well to avoid. Loki notes all the things that statement does not say but says nothing. He was the one who left the portal open, who directed people to it after all.
"How do I know you are speaking the truth?" Thor asks suspiciously. Laufey looks at him for a long, uncomfortable moment.
"You came here for war. You only betray your youth in that. War is never something to be courted, I know that now." Laufey says and for once Loki believes the king to be in earnest. Is this Laufey showing regret? Regret for the war that began a thousand years ago?
Loki cannot believe his luck when Thor simply nods and turns to leave. Perhaps this day may end without bloodshed after all.
"Run along home little princess."
"Dam."