Her blonde hair swirled in the breeze as she danced swiftly and gracefully though the moves of her routine. The silver sword she held in her hands sung as she lifted it above her head and swung it to her side, light glistening from the blade, shimmering across her metal bodice, and reflecting on her pale face. Sweat dripped from her chin, but she remained focused on the imaginary enemy in front of her. She was still young, barely into the beginning of her adolescence, but her eyes shone with the determination and experience of a fully mature, noble warrior. She slowly lowered her sword to her side as she finished her practice, a weary sigh escaping her parted lips.
"Very nice," spoke a voice from behind her. "I can see improvement in both your form and grip."
She grinned with pride and raised an eyebrow. "You speak as though you're an expert, but as I recall from our last spar, you have a lot to learn as well, young Prince Thor."
The name was meant in jest. Everyone at the academy could barely contain their whispers of excitement in reaction to Thor's potential as an entrant in the academy next year. He was the current "hot topic" of conversation and it was all favorable. Thor seemed to be growing into his father's footprints quite nicely. He was strong, well-spoken, and intelligent - the perfect combination for a would-be king of Asgard. Although the Allfather and the elders had yet to announce a successor to the throne, Thor was favored to earn the selection. His recent, rapid growth in height, strength, and his father's increase in favor toward him had elicited a change in the manner in which he was addressed. No longer was he simply "Thor" or "Odinson," to the people; he was beginning to grow into his royal title and the respect that came with the role.
"I concede that you have superior skill with the blade, but I would remind you that a sword is not exactly my weapon of choice. I prefer something heavier and more powerful."
"Something like Mjolnir?" she asked sardonically.
He feigned disinterest with a casual shrug, but it quickly gave way to a smile. "My Lady Sif is as swift of mind as she is with a sword."
"Well, you have been pining after that hammer for longer than I've known you. These days, it seems to be monopolizing your attention, even more so than your old comrades."
Thor chuckled and wrapped an arm loosely around her shoulder. "I promise you, Sif - even after I am king, I will not forget my friends - least of all, you."
The last words had been said in a quieter tone, meant to avoid the ears of the others that were caring for their weapons nearby. She cleared her throat and turned her head, hoping he could not see the blood rushing to her cheeks. Thor was much too young to consider a wife, but Sif harbored a wish that her continued success as a warrior would make her an acceptable candidate. She hoped that Thor would consider such a choice when the time was appropriate, after their graduation from the academy and his coronation. "Yes, well... I will hold you to your word."
"I have no doubt," he said with a cocky smile.
Unfortunately, Thor's voice had travelled further than intended. His brother, sitting on a log nearby and seemingly forgotten by the pair as they exchanged their quips, had exceptional hearing. Thor often forgot this, but Loki surmised that he simply didn't care enough to conceal his words from his younger brother.
As he had grown older, Loki had become very good at masking his true emotions from others. On the outside, he appeared disinterested and bored as he occasionally tossed one of his daggers in the air and casually caught it again. Underneath his exterior, however, he quietly seethed in annoyance. Thor had been using the phrase "when I am king..." often, which was a dangerous assumption, even for one as favored as he. There was a limit to the advantage birth order provided in Asgard; Thor had no right to assume the throne was his. Although the Allfather had always favored Thor above his brother due to his likeness and strength, he hadn't yet labeled him his successor. In fact, this would not be done for years to come, until both boys had finished their training and studies and had been adequately assessed. In the meantime, while Thor's muscles grew larger, so did Loki's knowledge of magic, enchantments, and the wonders of Yggdrasil. This was not a competition Loki would easily concede.
Thor's conversation with Sif had struck another nerve with Loki, one he did not care to reveal or dwell on. His brother would excuse his words with Sif as friendly banter, considering how long they had known each other. However, as time went on, it became difficult for Loki to ignore the fact that she preferred Thor's company over his. He was too keenly aware of the way they were beginning to look at each other, the way Thor would avoid eye contact with her unless he felt confident about what he was saying, and the way Sif would unconsciously push a strand of her golden locks behind her ear whenever he would flash his cocky, over-confident, insincere smile in her direction. This display of Thor's nauseated Loki, especially when it was directed towards her.
"Are you two finished? Or shall I call one of the palace chaperones?" Fandral asked sarcastically as he walked up behind them. "I thought we were here to train."
"You're in an abnormally productive mood today, Fandral," said Sif.
"Yes; some of us haven't gone through growth spurts that have added 20 pounds of muscle overnight. I've got a lot of work to do if I'm to keep up with Thor at the academy."
"True enough!" Thor said proudly as he gave Fandral a loud, friendly smack on the back.
Fandral stumbled forward with the impact, but laughed in return; Loki rolled his eyes. His mood was not ameliorated by the reminder that he had grown taller, but skinnier during the same months when puberty had been particularly kind to his brother. Thor's shoulders were wider, his jaw squarer, and he was much stronger than he had been just a season ago. This genetic gift from Odin apparently didn't transfer to the younger brother. He had changed in appearance as well, but while Thor was developing a body like that of a classic hero in the old stories, Loki's long face, dark hair, and pale complexion made him look more the villain.
"Now then, how shall we proceed?" Sif asked, "standard pairs, multiple adversaries..?"
"I have an idea," a young man in their group started, "What if we played 'The Jotun and the Maiden?' That was always good for exercise with a group."
"What a fun idea, Folkvar," Fandral agreed. "We haven't enjoyed that game in a long time and it is excellent day for it. Besides, who knows if our time at the academy will allow us to gather again like this for some time."
Thor nodded. "Agreed. We can spread out around the rocks over the foothills. Loki can be the monster and Sif... "
"Aren't we a little old for this?" Loki suddenly spoke as he rose from his nearby seat.
"Perhaps, but there's no harm in indulging in nostalgia," Folkvar argued.
"No harm, sure..." Loki started with a wry chuckle. "You're not the one who has to be the monster every time. It's a horrible game born from a terrible fairytale."
"The only reason you're always given that role is because you're good at it," Sif argued, referring to the fact that his magic made it easier for the "monster" and the "maiden" to hide from the group of "heroes" to track and fight him. "No one here besides you can conjure fog from nothing or know of the illusions you do."
She put a reassuring hand on Loki's shoulder, and he quickly turned away from her, fearing he would reveal the blush on his cheeks. The truth was, he didn't completely mind the game when she was the maiden. Since it required him to kidnap her, this game afforded him the rare opportunity to talk to her outside of his brother's earshot. It also allowed him room and time to practice and show off his new tricks. However, the end of the game, when the heroes would come to rescue the maiden and vanquish the monster, was humiliating, as he was easily bested by the three or four heroes accompanying Thor. It was never a fair fight.
"Plus," Thor began after a short pause in the conversation, "throwing daggers are not exactly a hero's weapon and they are too dangerous for group training."
Loki seethed, but maintained his stoic expression. "Then give me a sword."
His brother chuckled. "You're serious? You're horrible with swords."
Loki's face turned red; he took a deep breath in preparation of saying something, but was cut off by Sif. "Maybe we can play another game," she suggested. "I'm not so sure I want to continue being the maiden anyway. I can rescue myself."
Thor smiled, flashing his white teeth at her. "Indeed, you can." Sif smiled; Loki's frown deepened. "Well, perhaps Folkvar will be willing to play the Jotun?" The other boy nodded an affirmative. "Loki, you can be the maiden, if the other role bothers you so much."
Loki's fist tightened around the handle of the dagger he held. "Let me the hero. I can handle a sword," he said firmly, his voice remaining calm and his words purposeful and planned.
"It's not just about your lack of skill. I don't want you to hurt yourself or anyone else, Brother." Thor stated firmly. "Do you want to be a part of this, or would you rather go back to the city?" he asked, his tone made it obvious that he was growing tired of his brother's protests.
Loki looked around at the group of young warriors in training, then back at Sif. His mouth opened to argue, but he chose, instead, to lower his head in submission to his brother's wishes. Anger was now coupled with embarrassment; he was not proving his worth as a leader by yielding to his brother's will.
Thor turned his back to him and began giving orders to the others. "We'll start at the base of the hills; be sure to stay close and don't..."
His words were interrupted by the distinct sound of metal scraping metal. Loki had unsheathed a sword and was pointing it directly at the back of his head, though he maintained some distance between the blade and his brother's flesh. Thor furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. "What are you doing?" he asked, turning slowly to meet his brother's stare.
"Proving something," Loki answered simply.
His stance and footing were correct, as was his grip on the sword. However, this is something often taught in one's first class as a swordsmen. Loki's inexperience and lack of strength was obvious by the way the blade shook as he strained to hold it upward. "Loki, put it down, before you get hurt."
"Before I get hurt?" he asked incredulously. "Spar with me, Brother. Let me show you your error in judgment."
The blade he held against his brother shined in the reflection of the mother star's light. It was a real, sharpened sword and Thor was aware that Loki was slowly progressing forward with the tip of the blade directed at his throat. Still, Thor did not unsheathe his own weapon.
He laughed dryly. "Do you know what Father would do to me if you get hurt with this foolishness?"
"You're not my caretaker." With a wild swing, Loki steered the sword down to the right. It landed with a heavy thud on the ground; Thor easily evaded it.
"You are my responsibility as my younger brother," Thor argued, "Now, stop this. I love you, but I will not hesitate to defend myself or the others in this group, even if you get hurt."
With a grunt of effort, Loki lifted the blade from the impression it had made in the grass on its previous impact. He swung it horizontally across Thor's waistline. Again, his movement was slow and sloppy, and he had made the mistake of moving the wrong foot forward. Thor avoided the strike with one, small step back at the right moment.
"Loki, you don't have to prove anything. It's just a game..."
He swung to the left this time, but the inertia of the heavy blade in combination with his bad footing caused him to stumble. He momentarily faced away from Thor, who took the opportunity to step on the inside of his knee, forcing Loki to the ground.
"Are you finished?" Thor asked, his impatience lacing his tone.
The younger groaned an feigned concession and dropped the sword. Thor smiled and sighed, helping his brother to his feet. Suddenly, Loki swung at his face with this fist. In a quick reflexive move, Thor retaliated by grabbing his fist, pulling it above Loki's head, and using the open window of vulnerability to deliver a powerful punch to Loki's gut.
Thor had not yet become accustomed to the strength he had recently gained. In a sickening twist, he felt the distinctive sensation of bone cracking at the moment of impact. He had broken at least one of his brother's ribs, and judging by the wet sensation on his fist, the bone had pierced his skin. Loki fell to the ground, a horrible squeak coming from his throat in what should have been a gasp as he tried to reclaim his breath. Thor's eyes were wide with shock and regret as he watched his brother struggle to breathe through his pain as he held his palm against the ever-growing dark red stain on his green tunic.
"Does anyone have a healing stone?!" Thor vaguely heard Sif scream. The answer must have been 'no' because she was quickly at his side without one in hand. "Thor, I think we'd better get him to the healing rooms."
Thor nodded in agreement. By then, his brother had managed to catch his breath, but he'd grown pale with his pain. Thor helped him to his feet and carefully wrapped the arm from his uninjured side around his neck. Sif followed as they began the long walk back to the city and the palace gates.
The journey back to the palace was grueling. The hills were just beyond the outer borders of the city, and they dared not use a horse and aggravate his injury with its jostling stride. Asgard, during its strongest period, did not have an overabundance of guards. They were within the palace grounds by the time they were seen as they walked up the long narrow path in the gardens. The guards alerted Queen Frigga and she immediately called for the healers, who rushed the barely-conscious prince into the nearby chambers. The queen followed the healers into the room, but Thor and Sif halted at the threshold.
"This is not your fault," Sif said, sensing the guilt that laid heavily on Thor's heart. "He could have killed you, if you hadn't stopped him."
Thor watched from their distance as the healers crushed a number of small stones in a bowl intended to treat Loki's injuries. He granted her a small nod, but he couldn't meet her eyes. He could hear the panic in his mother's tone change to calm as the healers assessed Loki's condition. A few broken ribs could be mended easily. Resetting them would be painful, but the healing stones would bring relief quickly.
The queen left the room and closed the door behind her, allowing the healers to work uninhibited by her presence. Sif kneeled in respect as she approached them; Thor bowed his head, but his eyes remained fixed towards the floor. "Are you ready to tell me what happened?"
Her tone was hard and cold. Thor could bravely face dragons and man-eating fish with nothing more than his bare hands, but the anger of his parents terrified him. He swallowed hard and began his story, explaining everything from Loki's obsessed resistance to their game to his stubborn reaction to Loki's desire to switch roles. The portion of his tale regarding their fight came slowly as he tried his best to calculate his words. He was not gifted with a honey tongue, like his brother, but even Loki would have experienced difficulty making the situation appear better than it was.
"I'm sorry. I did not mean to hit him so hard. I only meant to put him down so he would stop his recklessness," Thor said in conclusion.
Queen Frigga had remained silent, allowing her son to express his side of things. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she attempted to read the truth in his words. When he was finished, she turned towards the young Sif, who stood quietly behind Thor. "To the best of your knowledge, is this accurate?"
Sif opened her mouth in surprise that the queen was so directly confronting her. She cleared her throat and answered, "yes, My Queen."
The queen breathed in through her nose deeply and rubbed her fingers against the side of her dress, apparently taking a moment to consider what Thor had said. "Sif," she began, "would you mind checking on my son? I would like to speak with Thor alone for a moment."
The young warrior bowed and obeyed, closing the door to the healing room and allowing the queen and prince their privacy.
"Mother, I'm sorry," he reiterated desperately.
Frigga's expression softened and she rested her hand gently on his cheek. "I'm sure you are, but I am not the person who needs your apology." Thor nodded in understanding, glancing at the large, ornate doors leading into the healing room. "You are both growing so fast," she said, her voice laced with a hint of sadness.
"Mother..?" he asked in confusion.
"You are already men; I seem to have blinked and missed it. It's difficult for me to accept the fact that you will be in the academy next semester, but I'm happy that we will have a little while longer with your brother," she said, her eyes filled with a nostalgia for her children and their youths. "The selection for the throne will not be far behind."
"Has father said anything about appointing a successor?" Thor asked curiously.
She smiled softly and avoided his question, as he knew the answer would be the same as it had been the last 50 times he had asked. "Thor, there will be obstacles in your relationship with your brother in the coming years. Enjoy his company now, while you can and do not look at him as being inferior. He might not fit your definition of strength, but he is strong, and he may yet surprise you."
"Yes, Mother," he replied in a low, reluctant tone.
"I'm glad we have that settled. Your father will still have to hear about this," she warned. "He will be back from the council later." Thor's mouth opened in protest, but he knew better than to speak. "His heart will soften if he knows you have already made amends with your brother. However, I'm sure he will have a lecture and punishment in mind for you."
"For me? But I..."
"Yes, you showed restraint by not drawing your own sword against Loki since you knew he was inexperienced, but your strike against him was deliberate, even if the amount of force you used was accidental. Do not be too concerned, I am certain your brother will be there to keep you company, once he has healed. I understand the stables need a thorough cleaning. Perhaps you will be able to mend your relationship while bailing hay." He nodded with a sigh and turned to walk into the healing chambers. "Thor," she started again.
"Yes, Mother?"
"This game - The Jotun and the Maiden - I don't want you to play it again, understood?"
Thor furrowed his brow in confusion, but it was not worth pursuing an explanation or argument. "Yes, Mother," he simply replied.
The sharp pain in his ribs had made it difficult to breathe as his brother and their friend carried him through the hills and the outer boundaries of their city. When combined with the heat of the day and the length of their journey, Loki found it difficult to remain conscious. As soon as the healers mended his wound with their stones, relief washed over him like a cool blanket and he fell asleep. He didn't wake up to the creak of the chamber door, or the click of her heals on the stone floor. He did, however, open his eyes when he felt someone take his hand. His heart jumped when he realized who had his hand. She smiled down at him, her skin glowing in the firelight in the room. A knot formed in his stomach, his jealously increasing as he thought of how much more frequently her smile was directed at his brother.
"How are you faring?" she asked.
As his half-slumbering brain processed her question, he suddenly became aware of the fact that the healers had removed his coat, armor, and shirts in order to examine his ribs. He frantically released her hand and searched for a blanket or robes, anything to make him feel less self-conscious about his skinnier frame. He tore the sheet out from the mattress underneath him and wrapped it around his shoulders.
"Umm... well; thank you," he answered, running a hand through his dark hair. Sif nodded and sat down on the edge of the large bed on which he was resting. She didn't say anything else, and he searched his thoughts for something that would break the silence. "I'm a little tired."
"That's understandable. You walked a very long way with one of your ribs sticking from your gut," she said, her voice filled with humor, and unless he was mistaken, admiration for his tenacity.
Loki smiled at the compliment, but as soon as his heart soared, it sank again. The memory of the events came back to him, accompanied by his embarrassment and anger. He felt unpleasant about his actions, almost ashamed, but at the same time, he remained content to place the blame with this brother for his humiliation. "I'm sorry you didn't get the opportunity to train," he said quietly.
She shrugged lightly. "That's alright," she said. "I am certain I will get plenty of exercise in the weeks to come." He only nodded. Moments went by silently and he berated himself for losing his speechcraft during this rare time alone with her. "For the record," she started; Loki was grateful for the break in the silence. "I always believed that game was foolish."
Her words returned the smile to his lips. "Agreed," he said. Once again, a blanket of silence fell over the pair. Sif crossed her legs and sighed; Loki stared at the dried blood on his hands, a question coming to his mind. He believed she was being kind by visiting him, but she seemed to be waiting for something, and she made no effort to pursue conversation or to care for him. "Was there something else?" The question came out in a harsher tone than what he had intended. She stood, and for a moment, he was worried he had offended her.
"No, the queen asked me to check on you so she could have words with Thor," she answered, apparently ignoring or failing to notice the passive aggression in his question. "I don't wish to leave until I am sure that they are finished."
"Of course," he responded stoically, masking his disappointment.
She played with her fingers and paced slowly around his bed. "Do you think they will be strict with him? It was not his intention to injure you as he did. If they could've seen his face after he..." she trailed off.
Loki once again ran his hand through his hair, silently cursing the strand that was long enough to fall in his eyes, but too short to push behind his ear as he carefully considered a response. "He struck me in anger. I believe Father will be very displeased, but I do not know to what extent."
"But you were the one who started it," she argued. She turned to meet his eyes, but saw dismay in his expression and lost her anger. "Never mind; I suppose it doesn't matter."
A line of red appeared over Loki's cheeks; he drew his knees up to his chin and allowed his hair to hide his eyes. It didn't take long for her to jump to his brother's defense, even though he had been the one to get hurt. "You care for my brother that much?"
She turned her head away from him, several strands of her golden hair falling loose from her neat ponytail. With only a nod, she answered affirmatively, but her silent answer had said more to him than a verbal response ever could.
He did not know why he'd asked the next question, or how he worked up the nerve to say it. "Do you care for me?" A lump formed in his stomach; he was startled to notice that his heart was beating wildly within his chest. This confused him.
"Of course, Loki," she answered. For a moment, the knot in his stomach loosened. "We've been friends for a long time."
Those last words confirmed what Loki had already surmised from his observation of Sif's evolving relationship with Thor. He was not yet talented enough in his deceptive ways to hide the impact of her rejection. "You don't care for me in the same way as my brother..."
Her face filled with pity, and all of a sudden, the pain that Loki felt regarding this her silent rebuff changed to anger. He did not need or desire to be looked at with such an expression. He was a powerful son of Odin, a warrior in his own right, and an adept student of magic. No one had the right to look at him like that.
Sif fought for an answer that might have put him at ease, but she knew Loki well enough to know that he would take it as a patronizing slight. The creak of the heavy door saved her from needing a response. Thor entered the room and approached his brother's bedside. Sif excused herself and left.
Thor waited until he heard the door close, but even when the clank of metal sounded throughout the chamber, he did not speak. He picked up the bowl of healing stone residue the healers had used to repair Loki's ribs and sifted it through his fingers with curiosity. The bulk of the stones disappeared when they were used; this much residue meant that a large stone was required. He cleared his throat and put down the bowl. His head dropped, so that he was looking at the floor while he spoke, but his voice was warm and honest. "I am sorry, Brother. I'm sorry for losing control and hitting you and I'm sorry for dismissing you as I did."
"You're only saying that because Mother is making you."
Thor chuckled. "Yes, I am," he said honestly. "I think you were stupid for swinging a sharpened weapon at me and you deserved a punch to the gut."
Loki raised an eyebrow and looked up at him, ready to begin an argument. Before he could speak a word, Thor continued.
"I did not, however, intend on hurting you, either physically or by making you feel - inferior. For this, I am truly regretful."
The hard expression on the younger Odinson softened. "I can fight," he spoke.
"I know you can - just not with anything heavy enough to require two hands - not until you get stronger," Thor explained. "We can work on that, together, if you would like."
Loki looked up at him, suspicious of his offer, but curious. "Really?"
"I have a few weeks before I have to begin work at the academy. We can train together; I can help you get stronger, and you can help me improve my control. I was thinking, perhaps we could find and enchantment for your daggers to make them duller and better for practice."
Loki blinked in surprise. He had been working on learning weapon enchantments and had practiced channeling his magic through the blades, but enchanting them to be safer for practice purposes hadn't occurred to him. It was a good idea, and he was impressed that his brother had noticed it was a topic of his study, as Thor usually ignored anything having to do with his brand of magic. "I would like that," he said. "I'm - also sorry, Brother."
Thor smiled and placed a supportive hand on Loki's shoulder. "So we are good, then? I don't enjoy being at odds with you. I love you."
"As do I, Thor."
"Good," he said joyously. "Now that we've settled our differences - Mother would like to speak with you, if you are up to it."
Loki had expected it, but he sighed dejectedly. "I suppose I should get this over with."
"Father will not return for hours and Mother has given us plenty of time for this discussion.
There's no hurry."
Loki smiled. The two boys spent the next couple of hours in the recovery room, delaying the inevitable, unpleasant confrontation with their father about the incident. Loki's heart was heavy after his discussion with Sif, but he forgot his anger toward Thor and his insecurities surrounding his strength. The brothers spoke while they played a game on the floor, reviewing strategies for their training and talking about their futures within the academy. For the moment, the house of Odin was peaceful, but it would be short-lived.
When the brothers felt they could no longer procrastinate without getting into even more trouble, they left for the throne room to meet with their parents. Thor sent Loki in first, as he had not spoken with either parent since he'd been rushed in with his injuries. The moment Loki entered the throne room, his sensitive ears picked up a discussion between his parents and an argumentative tone in his father's voice. He looked back at the entrance to the room, debating on leaving until their discussion was over, but his father's use of his brother's name caught his ear. Instead of leaving his mother and father to their discussion, he ducked behind a pillar and listened.
"...loss of control is no reaction for a future king!" Odin said sharply, his voice escalating to nearly a yell when he was finished.
"I have already assigned punishment," Frigga responded.
Odin sighed angrily. "He is growing older; he needs to learn - wrong actions have consequences worse than cleaning stables. If he is to rule, he must learn to anticipate the effects of his choices."
"You would have him flogged?" she asked wryly.
"Of course not," Odin replied quickly, "but you were too soft."
"Perhaps, but he's still a boy. There will be many opportunities for him to learn about consequences," she argued. Odin did not return her argument. He crossed his arms and paced, considering her words. "What of Loki?" she asked after some silence. "Do you feel I should be harder on him as well?"
"No," he answered, "he is still young, and I believe this behavior will stop once Thor is living at the academy."
Loki frowned; his father's words should have brought him relief, but there was something almost patronizing in his tone. The quiet voice of his mother returned, echoing the question that was slowly forming in his own mind. "Unequal punishments for similar wrongs - is age really the only reason behind your judgment?"
"What are you intending to say?"
"When you referred to Thor's behavior, you spoke as though you have already made up your mind regarding a successor."
Loki suddenly felt it hard to swallow and the knot that had been in his stomach nearly all day had returned. Odin did not respond to his wife's implication for a number of moments, but Loki stayed in his place, frozen as he listened intently for his father's answer.
"It has to be Thor," Odin stated quietly, "you know this. Even if the council petitioned for Loki, I could not, in good conscious change my decision."
His vision went red, tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheek. It has to be Thor... He knew the odds were in favor of his older brother, but it was painful shock to hear the decision had been made so early, years before tradition normally dictated for the naming of a successor to any line. What was so wrong with him or right with Thor that his father would have made up his mind so quickly?
"...tell him the truth before it becomes even more painful for him to hear." His mother's voice broke in through the loud beats of his heart and ears that were deafened by his anger. He strained to listen, but as he leaned further around the pillar he was hiding behind, the rubber soul of his shoe squeaked against the smooth, tile floor. The noise was heard by both Odin and Frigga, who immediately stopped their conversation.
Loki fought the temptation to run away, or to lash out in the midst of his anger. Odin's wrath was not to be taken lightly, though, and he didn't know where he would go. His instinct kicked in and he took a deep breath, willing his heart rate down before discretely wiping the tears from his cheeks. The thought occurred to him that it would be a long time before the coronation would occur. Perhaps he still had time to prove himself to the Allfather - and to Asgard.
Neither parent seemed to be concerned that he had overheard them as he walked down the hall and closer to the throne. His ability to disguise his feelings seemed to be getting better. He bowed respectfully and allowed his parents to speak.
As expected, Odin delivered a lecture on control and strength of mind. His mother prodded him for putting his brother in the path of a sharpened blade without adequate training on the weapon. He listened to both parents intently and respectfully, never betraying the hurt and anger that had welled up within him. However, whether it was the disappointment of Sif's rejection coupled with the revelation that he was not favored for the crown, or ordinary adolescent rebellion in the face of his quickly changing world, the wise words of Odin did not reach his heart as they once had.
The events of that day were a catalyst for Loki. His mischief was taken to another level, from innocent play that rarely caused any irreparable harm, to sinister and often cruel pranks. He quickly began to lose his footing with friends he had considered close; his trust in others diminished as did their trust of him. Thor and Sif began to officially court, which deepened his distance from his brother, even though they had grown up so close.
Thor became a well-loved and well-respected figure almost immediately upon his entrance into the academy. Bitterness and resentment grew in Loki's heart as he tried, but failed, to outperform his brother and build favor within Asgard and with its current king. Loki's focus changed after that day from winning the crown to winning revenge. The more Loki felt abandoned and left alone, the more he pushed himself away from those who loved him. His father's rejection of him and his actions towards Jotunheim during Thor's banishment were blades to the last threads of loyalty he felt for his family. He descended into his own madness, creating chaos and leaving deep scars across the histories of three worlds. However, even after he had been defeated and humiliated by five particularly stubborn Midgardians and his brother, he wasn't finished. Someone of his cunning intelligence wouldn't attempt an attack on the universe without a backup plan…