A/N: I wrote this before ever seeing the movies, so forgive me for any inaccuracies. Lots of symbolism, feel free to ask me in the reviews!
Chapter 1
In the early hours of the morn, Loki entered his study, intent on finally getting some work done. With countless interruptions during the past few days, from banquets to schmoozing with generals and the like, Loki hadn't a spare moment to even think about work. He had letters to send, people to boss around. He shut the door behind him, waving a hand in the general direction to seal it, guaranteeing a silent morning. He sat down at his large, ornately carved mahogany desk, the light from the rising suns flowing gently through the drapes. The silence was comforting, which was surprising since Thor was also an early riser. But, it was his only chance to get things accomplished.
He shuffled some papers and straightened the pile of books before diving in. He had to organize before working—it helped clear his mind. However, he noticed that there were strange marks on some of the documents—brown, dusty circles in a chaotic pattern on the desk. "What the...?" he breathed. He brushed one, rubbing it off, and then, slightly disgusted, reached for a handkerchief to wipe his hands on. The maids and cleaning staff must have bypassed this room completely. He shrugged it off, still slightly irked that his work was sullied. Exhaling, he procured a new sheet of stationary and blotting paper, and popped the cork on the inkwell. He dipped the pen into the jar, blotting and beginning salutations in that signature cursive hand of his:
General Almqvist,
I apologize profusely for having missed the Honourary Alliance Ball. Another pressing matter came up, one that I could not reschedule. In the future, I shall—
He looked up from his writing. A strange sensation emerged in his legs, as if something soft and fuzzy brushed against them. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, but then abruptly a creature leapt up on the table, knocking over the ink well, spilling the black liquid all over the newly written letter and desk.
Loki shot up with a gasp, his chair rocketing backwards, hands in the air for fear of even a single drop of ink landing on his precious tunic. "What in the Nine Realms is this?" he exclaimed.
The rather large animal mewled, walking gracefully around the ink spill, and then sat down and stared at Loki with calm indifference in its emerald eyes, as if it had meant to do that. It licked a paw and combed its long black hair nonchalantly.
Loki grumbled under his breath, trying unsuccessfully to shoo the creature away. Surely Thor had something to do with this. "Brother!" he shouted, loud enough for the whole palace to have heard his disdain.
A few minutes later, the blonde Asgardian knocked at the door, and Loki removed the spell, allowing his brother in.
"What is the meaning of this?" he said, motioning to the cat who still sat upon the desk, unblinking and aloof. "That writing desk was over two centuries old, and now it has a stain, and I'll have to redo all those papers because of this, this—"
"Cat?"
"—Satanic mongrel," Loki finished. "Why is it in my study, and where did it come from?"
"I'll have you know, he's mine," said Thor, and stepped toward the cat with outstretched arms. Its disposition suddenly changed, and it bounded off the table and wove in between its owner's legs, purring softly.
Loki was astounded. "Why, I never. You didn't strike me as a cat person."
"Perhaps you'd do well showing a little affection for something," said Thor, bending down and scratching the feline behind the ears.
"Well, don't let that thing near my sight again, or it'll be a skin hanging on my wall."
"Gods, Loki, it's only a cat." Thor hmphed in discontent, picked up his furry friend, and left.
Loki looked once more at the mess it had caused and sighed. He was sure he knew some sort of spell to lift the stain out of the leather inlays—it would take a mere flick of the wrist. But no amount of magic could bring back the sappy letters he had spent hours writing. Not like he cared; he only did it so that he wouldn't piss anyone off for missing their beloved galas and their precious weddings.
Through the following days, the cat, whom he now knew was called Fritjof, showed up in far more places than Loki would have liked. It did not attempt to hide its dislike for him, and blatantly trampled him, his things, and even scratched him, given the chance. Thor never seemed to notice, and this infuriated Loki. So, he began to devise a plan.