A/N: If you could care less about the Loki backstory skip ahead to chapter 14 for the post infinity war adventure to begin. Please drop me a review :)
Loki awoke with a start. Rumbling distant thunder made the windows of his palace bedroom quake. His heart rate quickened as a smile spread across his face.
Thor was back!
In Midgardian years Loki was a mere 7 years old, his older brother Thor being 14. He leapt from his bed, tossing the pristine white covers aside. He often lay awake in his bed for a few minutes each morning, admiring the intricately stitched lily pattern on the covers. This morning, however, was special. This morning his brother had returned from his hunt with the Allfather!
For a moment Loki raced about his chambers, carelessly tossing his sleeping attire to the cold stone floor. He made to get dressed for the day but thought better when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Surely mother would disapprove of him coming downstairs looking like this.
Sighing impatiently the tiny god threw his sleep clothes back on and ducked his head into the hall. The chambermaid was waiting outside as usual, piping hot water pail in hand.
"Morning, Hilda." said Loki, a small grin forming on his lips. The chambermaid called Hilda returned the smile.
"Ready for your bath, young prince?" asked Hilda. Loki nodded silently, allowing the woman to enter his room and cross to the washroom.
"Mother says I am old enough now to bathe myself, Hilda." said Loki, hoping the white lie would be accepted without question. Hilda smiled knowingly.
"Oh is that right? Well, you better use soap." said Hilda, pressing her pointer finger to his nose. She filled the small washbasin and left the little god to his own devices.
It was a mere 5 minutes later that Loki emerged from his room, fully dressed and inky black hair still dripping wet. He raced from his room, heart beating loudly in his ears with excitement.
"Loki Odinson, you return at once and dry your hair!" he heard Hilda call for him down the hall.
"Got it!" called Loki. With a snap of his fingers his tangled wet hair was bone dry and impeccably combed.
Magic.
"Thor!" he called, racing through the halls towards his massive older brother.
"Duckling!" Thor called back, his arms outstretched to catch his younger brother. Loki fell into his brothers arms, inhaling deeply. He smelled so much like Thor. Like rain, the trees, and sweet orange.
"Brother, my name is not duckling." said Loki haughtily, though the snotty undertone faded quickly.
"You are my duckling, Loki. Soft and sweet on the inside." said Thor, smiling at the young aspiring magician. Loki felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He never liked that nickname. He did not want to be seen as soft and sweet. He was going to be a warrior. Just like the Allfather.
"Loki, come here boy." Odin's voice was soft but booming. Loki released his grip on Thor and scurried over to his father, keeping his gaze on his feet.
He knew his father was not pleased with him as of late. It was a harmless prank! Thor wasn't even upset with him for turning into a snake. So why the Allfather kept harping on it...
"I have brought you a gift from our travels." said Odin.
Loki breathed a small sigh of relief. Good to know his father was no longer upset with him. Odin knelt down on one knee, pulling from his pocket a beautifully carved pocket knife. Loki's eyes widened slightly, eyeing the blade hungrily.
"Father," he breathed, a grin spreading onto his sharp features. "Oh thank you!" he cried, throwing his arms around Odin's neck. The Allfather's laughter rang out through the hall. Thor looked on amused, knowing how desperately Loki had been wanting to begin combat training.
"With your birthday being tomorrow your mother and I have decided you are old enough to train with the warriors." said Odin, placing the pocket knife firmly in Loki's hand. Confusion washed over the little god's face. Surely he would not be expected to spar with this pocket knife?
Thor seemed to sense this because he chimed in, "You will learn to fight with much larger weapons. Father intended for this to be a gift just for you. We will use it to collect herbs and insects for your potions and spells."
Loki could scarcely believe it. A birthday feast was planned for tomorrow and now he was the owner of his very own pocket knife! This was a joyous day indeed. Before he could get another word out Odin stood and made to leave.
"Thor, you will need to get to your training my son. Loki, I expect you will behave yourself today. Don't want to go spoiling your celebration tomorrow." said Odin, wagging a finger at the tiny god. Loki nodded in understanding. Stay out of trouble or face the consequences, got it.
When Thor was certain Odin was out of earshot he patted Loki's head affectionately and said, "How about you and I do some sparring practice tonight? Just the two of us, hmm?" Loki's eyes lit up again. He couldn't remember ever being happier. Nodding vigorously he promised Thor he would behave himself and took off for the palace gardens. There was only one person in the whole world he wanted to show his new gift to, and she would certainly be in the orchard.
Loki wandered through rows and rows of golden apple trees. The sun was streaming through the clouds, casting a beautiful glow on the bright green leaves. He had called her name a few times and got no response. Feeling slightly defeated he plopped down in the shade of the largest apple tree in the orchard. His brow furrowed as he dug through his pocket in search of the book he'd been studying. Ancient Asgardian magic.
Ten minutes into his reading he heard a peculiar sort of creaking noise from the branches above. His eyes never left the pages of his book, determined to use only his sense of hearing to detect the sudden intruder. He snapped the book shut suddenly and jumped to his feet in a dramatic flourish.
"Ah-ha!" shouted Loki, whipping his knife from his pocket and aiming it at the massive tree. The rustling in the tree grew silent and Loki's brows shot into his hairline. What the-?
A beat and then Loki found himself face down in the soft grass. Someone had tackled him from behind. He jumped to his feet, still brandishing his knife. He would thwart his attacker and send them straight to Valhalla! How dare they attack a prince of Asgard!
"You'll pay for that!" he shouted, whipping around. His eyes widened and he stumbled backwards, crashing into the massive apple tree and crumpling to the ground. He would've been angrier if her laughter hadn't been so... infectious.
Amber eyes sparkled in the sunlight and crinkled with howling laughter. Her golden hair was full and bouncing with curls. Cream colored skin was near perfect save for the freckles that peppered across her nose and cheeks, no doubt a result of her extended time in the sun. Full rose colored lips matched the rosy tint to her rounded cheeks and Loki could see a row of pearly whites beneath her perfect cupid's bow.
From the moment he set eyes on Amora he knew she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his entire life. The mere sight of her made his stomach twinge with an odd mixture of nervousness and excitement.
"Amora!" he scolded, trying to contain the laughter spilling from his own lips. She was doubled over, clutching her stomach, her curls bouncing with every breath she took. Finally, the young girl straightened up. She was not much older than Loki. In Midgardian years, maybe only two years older than him.
"I could've seriously injured you, m'lady." said Loki, gesturing to the still brandished pocket knife. She scoffed at him, ruffling his hair.
"You wouldn't." said Amora, her tone playful. Loki reddened at the sudden touch. His skin burning where her fingertips had brushed against his scalp.
"Is this what brings you to the orchard, my prince?" asked Amora, snatching the knife from his hand.
"Hey!" he shouted, reaching for his pocket knife. She made a sort of flourishing movement and the knife was suddenly suspended in midair, just a touch out of the young god's reach.
"No magic, Amora! That's not fair!" whined Loki, jumping as high as he could in an attempt to retrieve the knife. She waved her hand, letting the knife slip back into Loki's ready hands.
"I have to practice somehow, Loki." said Amora, smiling her perfect smile at him. Loki felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment for the second time today. First Thor's silly nickname and now Amora's teasing. She sensed his discomfort, he could tell, because she changed the subject quickly. Loki felt his heart sink a little. He'd been so excited to share his newest treasure and she scarcely seemed interested. No matter.
"Look! Mother brought me back some Midgardian writing from her last trip." said Amora, producing a small bound book from her pocket. Loki's pinch of disappointment faded quickly as his gaze met Amora's. Her eyes shone with excitement and he couldn't help but let all thoughts of his pocket knife slip away.
"What is it?" asked Loki, prodding the book with his pointer finger. Amora snatched it away from his grasp and held it to her chest protectively.
"Well I haven't finished reading it yet." said Amora, her tone almost defensive. Loki cocked his head to the side, confusion settling in. She was excited to share it but would not tell him what it was about. Odd.
"It's called 'Tristan' as I'm told." said Amora. Loki's brows furrowed and he sat beneath the apple tree, patting the ground next to him for her to follow suit.
"It is about a secret love." said Amora, her face blushing slightly. Loki's cheeks mirrored her blush and he wished he could hide his emotions more easily.
"Oh." was all he could manage to squeak out.
Amora leaned her head against the tree, letting a breathy sigh escape her. Loki watched as her eyes flitted closed.
"Are you coming to my feast tomorrow?" asked Loki, wishing to change the subject as quickly as possible. Amora's eyes snapped open.
"Will Thor be there?" she asked, her voice high and full of elation.
Loki scowled. The very reason he wished to change the subject and she brings it up. It was not that he was so blind to the fact that maidens pined for his brother. But he wished for once he and Amora could talk, play, laugh, without bringing up the God of Thunder.
"Of course he will, he is my brother." said Loki, matter of factly. Amora let out another breathy sigh, a grin spreading across her face. Annoyed that she could do nothing but pine over his stupid older brother Loki balled his hands into fists and gritted his teeth.
Don't misbehave, he thought.
But he couldn't help himself. Her wistful expression was irritating him, making his skin itch and his chest ache. Why couldn't he have a friend? All to himself. Someone that didn't constantly talk of Thor.
Before he could stop himself he sent a hard punch right at Amora's shoulder. Her eyes snapped open and she clutched her shoulder, letting out a sharp cry.
"Loki!" she shouted, jumping to her feet. He averted his eyes, brow still knit together and cheeks burning a deep red. He could feel his ears grow hot, could feel his chest tightening. Even with his eyes planted firmly on the ground he could tell she was crying. Her voice grew thick and she squeaked out a quick farewell before storming off across the orchard.
Great, he thought. Now she will tell Idunn (her mother), who will tell Odin, who will tell Frigga, who will tell Thor. There goes the feast. There goes the midnight spar. There goes my new pocket knife.
He didn't care. The anger was all consuming. He jumped to his feet and sent a punch at the ancient apple tree, scraping up his knuckles in the process.
He sulked the entire way back to the palace.
He could've done without the loud tsk-ing noise that Frigga made when she discovered him crying in his room over his bloodied knuckles. She closed the great wooden door behind her quietly and approached the trembling god on the floor in the corner. Try as he might he couldn't keep the hot tears from spilling out and splashing onto the cold stone floor.
Angry crying, sad crying, Loki couldn't stop the tears from welling in his astonishingly blue eyes no matter the situation.
Frigga took his hands in her own, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of each hand. Sniffling, Loki lifted his gaze to his mothers face. She didn't seem angry, more concerned than anything.
"Idunn has told me of your outburst, Loki. You know better than to strike a lady." said Frigga, her voice cool and calm. Loki let his gaze fall to the ground, a pang of shame coursing through his stomach and coiling into a knot. He knew he lashed out inappropriately.
"Mother," he began, thoughtfully. "Mother what is it like to love someone?" Frigga's laugh was playful and Loki couldn't help but feel a little silly for having asked.
"My son," began Frigga, a warm smile spreading across her angelic features. "You are much too young to concern yourself with such things." said Frigga, planting a firm kiss on the top of his head. She took his hands and pressed them together, palm to palm. Closing her eyes, she muttered a sort of spell under her breath. Loki breathed a sigh of relief, watching the scrapes on his knuckles dissipate leaving only smooth skin in its place.
"But say I did love someone..." said Loki, his voice trailing off. Frigga couldn't keep the smile from her face.
"You do, Loki. You love me, and your brother and your father." she supplied. Frustration was beginning to mount as it dawned on Loki that his mother was not going to entertain his musings. He let out a short sigh and instead asked the more pressing question at hand.
"Is my birthday cancelled?"
His little face looked positively miserable and he kept his eyes firmly on the floor, anticipating the worst. Frigga released his hands and leaned against the wall, sitting directly next to the little mischief maker.
"It is my decision to keep this information from the Allfather. Mistakes happen, Loki." said Frigga, with a slight shrug.
Loki let the words sink in and utter relief washed over his senses. Thank the Norns! The feast would be the perfect opportunity to apologize to Amora.
"Loki," Frigga began quietly, her voice scarcely above a whisper. He drew his knees up to his chest, sensing a lecture coming on.
"Amora is not like the other Asgardian children. Idunn is her caregiver, yes, but no one knows her real mother. She was abandoned in the orchard, found starving and alone when she was only a babe. We have to treat each other kindly. You never know what journey another's feet have travelled, yes?"
None of this was news, of course. Loki overheard Sif speaking in hushed tones about Amora's parentage at dinner two nights prior. Apparently one of the chambermaids let the news slip while Amora was delivering the golden apples to the palace kitchens. Poor child hadn't left her room since.
Frigga placed a firm hand beneath Loki's chin and lifted his face to hers. Loki nodded in agreement. Something about Frigga's words did not feel quite right. Amora was brave and well versed in the magical arts. She was beautiful and kind and lively in spirit. Frigga spoke of her as if she was some fragile object that could break at any moment.
"I will apologize, mother." said Loki, his bright eyes still trained on her face. Frigga smiled the same warm smile she had before and planted another kiss on his head.
"You are a kind soul, Loki Odinson."
The next morning couldn't have arrived fast enough. Frigga caught wind of the late night sparring plans and put an end to it quickly, chalking it up to Loki needing his rest before the feast. One epic tantrum later, the little god was curled into his bed fast asleep.
The palace felt unusually warm that morning. Loki could not remember the last time a grand feast of this size was held in the kingdom. Allfather said it was an important occasion. That Loki was now old enough to train as a warrior and celebrations were in order. Birthdays and feasts weren't often a thing to celebrate in Asgard, except on the happiest of occasions.
Loki stopped to admire his new buttoned shirt in the mirror. No doubt the silver buttons were expensive. He couldn't help but wonder if Thor's own celebration at this time in his life had been as glorious.
Children in Asgard did not necessarily mature any faster than Midgardian children. They certainly aged much slower; meaning they were expected to begin taking on more adult tasks at an earlier "age." Loki had heard of Midgard children Thor's age who were only just beginning their education. The thought made him shudder. He pushed the thoughts of Midgard from his head and left his chambers with a spring in his step.
Sniffing the air cautiously, Loki detected some wonderful and familiar smells.
Two decades ago, at Thor's coming of age celebration, he had tried the most fantastic honeyed fennel seeds. He begged his mother over and over to have the cooks prepare the sweet and spicy treat more often, but she refused. Frigga said the seeds were too precious, needed for planting crops. Now it would seem she obliged for his birthday.
He smiled wide and did a sort of hop skip on his way to the stairwell. Breakfast would be simple this morning, he was sure, due to the feast preparations. When he bounded to the bottom of the stairwell he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes trained on four giggling figures standing outside the kitchen door.
Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg stood snickering outside of the kitchen door, Thor at the helm.
"Duckling!" whispered Thor, his voice harsh. Loki's mood soured considerably when he realized the four blockheads had been sneaking ale, no doubt all morning. Thor's expression was cheerful, his eyes glassy and a bright rose flush in his cheeks. Rolling his eyes, Loki took a few tentative steps toward his brother.
"Thor, what is the meaning of this?" asked Loki, motioning to the three drunken idiots peering through the kitchen door keyhole.
"We are going to sneak some barnacle goose! It is remarkable with the ale we've been partaking." said Volstagg, a hiccup escaping his lips. Loki knit his brows together, confused.
"Why not just eat breakfast?" asked Loki, his tone also hushed to mimic his brother.
"Breakfast?!" cried Hogun, earning himself several shushes and giggles from his friends.
Clearly this was going no where. Loki crossed his arms across his chest, feeling annoyance bubble in his chest.
"Yes, breakfast you dolt." said Loki dryly. Thor simply shook his head and clapped one of his massive hands on Loki's back. Loki had to catch himself, lest he be sent crashing to the ground by his brother's great arms.
"Loki we tire of violet potage and strawberries. Wouldn't you like something new?" asked Thor, the stupid grin still planted firmly on his face.
"Oh! He is small. No one will notice him! Loki, you can fetch the goose for us!" whispered Fandral, his hair slightly disheveled. No doubt the fools had been drinking in the early morn before the morning training.
No.
Absolutely not.
Loki shook his head feverishly.
"I cannot!" whispered Loki, his voice growing almost hysterical. The last thing he needed after being caught punching Amora was to steal from the kitchens while the cooks were hard at work.
"Do you even realize how many people are in there? Hundreds!" hissed Loki, looking about wildly. He sincerely hoped no one rounded the corner to see them all plotting.
"C'mon, duckling. Use some of those mischievous little tricks and magic us a proper breakfast!" said Thor, clapping Loki's back again. Loki let a moment of incredulity settle in before pushing the feeling away. This was Thor. Of course he would ask Loki to do something so rash.
"Fine." Loki spat, his tone bordering angry. This was not going to end well.
A simple invisibility spell would do the trick. Loki carefully pushed the kitchen door open, making sure to go nice and slow. The bustle and hustle of the kitchen was almost overwhelming. It was astonishing the amount of work that went into preparing a feast for the gods of the kingdom.
Massive piles of herbs were stacked in the nearest corner. Dill, mint, saffron, sage, and cloves to name a few. The aromas were titillating. Loki forced his attention away from the herbs, pocketing a small bundle of parsley for later use in his potion making.
Alright, goose. That was the objective. Loki peered curiously at the high tables stacked with ingredients and half made dishes. How could he even be certain that were any geese here?
His stomach rumbled uncomfortably from a lack of breakfast. Bitterly he thought, I actually like strawberries.
There at the end of the massive and sweltering room was a roasting spit, full to the brim with geese. The fat dripped off slowly, making a sizzling noise that was oh so satisfying. Ignoring the rumble in his stomach, Loki crept his way closer and closer to the roasting birds.
How in all the Norns would he be expected to steal the damn thing while it was still on fire?!
Oh brother, you are lucky I love you, Loki thought. The spell was still working, at least so far. No one seemed to notice Loki standing in plain sight in front of the roaring fire. He decided a distraction would be his best bet in stealing a goose from the spit.
Now what to do...?
In a flash he had an idea. He glanced at a table piled high with rabbits, ready to be skinned and prepared for the feast. With a hushed whisper he recited the necessary spell. It wouldn't reanimate the beasts, just make them hop about for a bit.
A piercing scream erupted from one of the milkmaids when she realized one of the rabbits was beginning to hop about. The rest of the rabbits followed suit, sending the kitchen into an absolute frenzy. Loki allowed himself a moment to laugh at his trickery. Such fools. Surely they didn't believe these rabbits were actually alive?
Panic settled in next, however, when he realized he still had no game plan for getting a goose off the fire. He closed his eyes, straining to remember the spell Amora had taught him for levitation. How foolish he was for not paying attention yesterday when she performed it in front of his very eyes.
Snap judgement took over and he grasped the goose with both hands, yanking hard until it came off the spit. The burning sensation in his hands was so intense he had to bite back a strangled whimper. He ran as fast as he could for the kitchen door, the scalding goose still in his tiny hands. It was almost too heavy for him, even with all his godly strength. He thrust his back into the door and burst into the hallway, only to be met with the cackling laughter of the Warriors Three and his oafish brother.
"Take it, take it!" cried Loki, his invisibility spell wearing off.
Thor at least came prepared with a fine silver platter at the ready. Loki plopped the goose down and shook his hands violently, as if the motion would take the searing pain away. Tears stung his eyes as he assessed the damage. None of the older company seemed to notice his burns as they continued to cackle with delight.
Suddenly the kitchen door flung open with such force that Loki was certain it would fly off of its hinges. Thor had enough sense to conceal the piping hot goose and faced the angry kitchen worker head on.
"Where is that little snake?" hissed the cook, his eyes wild and full to brim with hostility.
"Gentle kitchenman, who is it you seek?" asked Fandral, finding his voice through his drunken stupor.
The cook narrowed his eyes and bounded forward, grabbing Loki by the hand and hoisting him up about an inch off the floor. The little god hissed at the sudden contact, trying to conceal his tears through a masking spell. But his magic was weak at best when he was in an emotional state.
"Ow, ow! Please!" cried Loki, biting his lip to stop himself from calling out further. Thor stepped forward and pushed the cook hard, sending him crashing back into the kitchen door and releasing Loki in the process.
"You will do well to keep your hands off of your prince!" he roared, a thunder rumbling through the castle.
The cook smirked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"We know what you did, runt." spat the cook.
"I didn't-" Loki began, only to be cut off abruptly. The cook was flying back into the kitchen before he could hear the rest of Loki's excuses.
He was going to say, he didn't mean to hurt anyone.
"Loki are you alright?" asked Thor, sobering a little when he saw the youngest prince's hands. Tearfully Loki nodded, deciding to retire to his room until the feast.
"I can fix it." said Loki, looking down at his quickly blistering hands. He turned on his toes, leaving the idiots in his wake to enjoy their goose.
"I am sorry, duckling!" called Thor. It did not go unnoticed, but Loki did not acknowledge him.
The dining hall was lined with beautiful tapestries telling the history of their people. Candles adorned the tables, making the cutlery sparkle in a way it never would usually. The bards were singing merry songs and playing their instruments loud for all to hear. The only missing part of the equation was Frigga.
"So mother will not join us for supper?" Loki had asked Thor. How confusing!
Thor explained that it was not proper for the lady of the house to dine with her guests. Eating was a messy business, and she couldn't afford to be seen as messy. Loki's shoulders had sagged a little, wondering if any of the ladies would be permitted to join them. To his great delight most of the gentlwomen of the kingdom were in attendance. The rule about the Queen not dining with the guests was just that; a stupid rule.
After wolfing down half the sugar coated ginger, Thor started in on the roasted venison.
"Hands, Thor!" chided Odin, passing over the linen wash bowl with rosewater. Loki was tucking into smoked herring, himself. Sipping on a cider no doubt made with the sweet golden apples from Idunn's orchard.
"Father," Loki began, meaning to ask where exactly Idunn and Amora were anyway. Odin waved him off,
"In a minute child."
The hall quieted when the Allfather rose from his chair at the head of one of the long banquet tables. He raised his glass in the air, clearing his throat.
"My people!" his voice boomed out.
"Today we celebrate my youngest son's 280th birthday. I have watched as he has grown from a curious infant, to a curious child and I am sure that he will bloom into a wonderful young man. It is not often that we are blessed enough to see our children grow and become the people we always hoped they would be. As it is, we often see our children take a darker path than we ever hoped," here he paused, as if haunted by some memory he wished to forget.
Loki cocked an eyebrow, his goblet of cider still poised in the air.
"To the prince!" Odin finished, downing his goblet of ale and smashing it to the ground with a hearty laugh. The hall erupted into cheers and laughter as several others followed suit.
Loki opened his mouth to ask, again, where Amora and Idunn were but it was at that moment that the beautiful maiden herself came sauntering up to their table. With his meal forgotten, Loki jumped to his feet doing some sort of odd half bow. His ears burned with embarrassment when her laugh rippled through the air.
"Idunn!" said Odin, stretching his arms out for an embrace. It was no secret that Odin was fond of the beautiful goddess. Loki took this moment to sneak away from his table, leaving Thor to stuff himself silly with almonds and pastries.
Amora and Loki situated themselves in a hall on a staircase just outside the dining room. Loki recounted the story of the stolen goose while Amora laughed and laughed.
"Oh Loki, your poor hands." she remarked. He had bandaged them sloppily to conceal the blisters he wasn't able to heal with his magic.
"Here," Amora said, gingerly unwrapping the cloth bandages. She placed her hands palm to palm with his and Loki felt his heart race. The mere touch made his head spin with delirium. How could a girl make him feel this dizzy? The blisters were gone in the blink of an eye and Loki's mouth fell open, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"You're amazing!" he breathed, making her blush. But there moment of intimacy was interrupted by an inebriated and loud god of thunder.
"DUCKLING! Where did you run off to?!"
Loki reddened at the nickname. Enough was enough!
"Do NOT call me that, brother!" he shouted, jumping from the staircase. Amora lingered behind, looking star struck when Thor rounded the corner. Her expression of admiration did not go unnoticed because Loki threw his hands in the air dramatically and said,
"What, Thor? What do you want?" The outburst took the thunder god by surprise.
"To celebrate with you! To give you your first taste of gin!" Around the corner the Warriors Three emerged, Sif in tow. She looked annoyed, but somewhat amused. Loki swallowed hard.
Gin? Mother always said gin was a hard drink for much older men.
"Mullberry gin!" cried Amora, snatching the small glass bottle from Thor's hands.
"See? Lady Amora is not afraid! Try it with us!" cried Thor, placing a warm and reassuring hand on Loki's shoulder.
Nervously, Loki took the ornate glass bottle from Amora, their fingertips brushing lightly. The contact was enough to make his knees weak.
"Alright," he managed to squeak out.
"Take a big swig." said Sif, a devilish grin on her face. Loki's brows knitted together, annoyed at Sif's goading. The girl was a persistent thorn in his side and never shied away from the chance to make him look foolish. He closed his eyes tight and pressed the bottle to his lips as his comrades shouted,
"Chug, chug, chug!"
The smell was awful and the burn was even worse. He sputtered first, then coughed, then doubled over, tears streaming down his face. Gin out the nose was not exactly ideal.
"That's disgusting!" cried Loki, wiping away the involuntary tears. The others laughed and laughed, making him feel hot and ashamed. How childish he was! Amora seemed to feel sorry for him because she patted his shoulder sympathetically.
"Oh my poor duckling," Thor chuckled, taking the bottle back and knocking back the remaining contents.
That was the day Loki decided, he would never look weak in front of Amora again.