A/N: I took some liberties with history/timeline in this and the following chapter. Please be lenient.
Music: "Odin's Court / Winds of Valhalla" by Black Sabbath, "Sing Child" by ASP
Midgard for Entertainment
For long years, Thor and Loki had stuck together as if joined at the hip, but lately, that had changed. Of course it was about the weapons training. Thor showed an aptitude for close combat, for fighting with blunt and heavy weapons, his tutors had determined.
(„Close combat is for minions, unless done for sport." Father had commented with a sigh.)
At least his magic had strengthened, and he was able to invoke the lightning now. His outlook to join the Wild Hunt was poor, though, since riding was quite beyond him. It had taken him years to stay in the saddle, and then he still needed both hands on the reigns, unable to cast lightning under way, or so much as throw a javelin.
Sif had once jested Thor would have to joust from an oxcart. He still felt grim satisfaction that Loki had shorn the bratty girl's head the night after.
Loki, of course, was a natural with horses. As a shapeshifter, he had better understanding of animals than anyone else. When Thor could still barely hang on, Loki directed his mount whith the knees alone, shooting arrows or casting spells to his centaur teacher's delight.
So they had been separated, Thor hacking at training dummies, while Loki honed his ranged weapons skills, from throwing knives to calculating the trajectories for inter-planetary missiles. Thor wished he had known earlier how math was an important skill for a warrior. It likely would not have changed a thing, though.
What made Odin's middle son really jealous were the evenings his little brother got to spend with their father, playing hnefatafl. Of course it was a board game just for two, so trying to join them was quite pointless. One evening, though, he was so starved for a word from Father that he decided to sneak up on them.
„I shall build a wall." Loki said, „All along my northern border."
Oddly, they did not have the gameboard out. They were bending over Odin's scrying pond. Thor went very still behind his pillar.
„Are you sure?" Father gave Loki a doubtful stare. „Do you really think the wall will keep the nomads off?"
"Maybe not, but it will give the people in the provinces along the border confidence. They won't panick and flee south. Same reason Xianyang makes a much better capital city than Nanjing."
„Mmh-hmmm. But have you seen, my son: You can not feed your workers? Once you'll take them from the fields, you won't have rice surplus any more, and the transport ..."
„Of course, father, I considered that." Loki looked up confidently. „I'm planning ahead. Once you'll send the cold and drought to drive the nomads on from the fringe, a lot of my farmers are going to starve anyway, aren't they? So I can as well work a million or two to death now, thus putting the rest in a good position."
„That's my boy!" the Allfather declared proudly, walking over and ruffling Loki's hair.
Thor, still in hiding, felt nauseous. They were playing with one of the entertainment planets. And then they both looked at him. Maybe he had made a noise.
„Thor, won't you join us?" Loki grinned. „Father and I are playing. It is so much fun. You must try!"
Father scowled. „Are you willing to cede your position to your brother, Loki?"
„'Course not, but Midgard is large. Well, Rome is in Balder's game, but there's that double continent across the ocean … Couldn't he take one of those small city states in the Petén, and you the highlanders? Or – wait" he shot the both of them hopeful glances, „how about you take Cuicuilco, father, and he Teotihuacán? Thor doesn't mind the heat. Or do you, brother?"
There was, for sure, something sinister to it. Heat? Thor didn't mind hot weather much. Was that town a furnace, that it made his little brother grin so? But then, if he played for but one hour, millions of mortals would live on at least that long in that other state where Loki was willing to sacrifice them for some building project.
In all the sagas, what impressed the young thunderer most was protecting the weak and innocent. He had a duty to play now, he did! Maybe he could even protect the humans in the town he'd play. He fervently wished so.
More importantly, it would be time with Father.
Time ran differently in Asgard than it did in the lands of the mortals. The gods had their own time-frame to go by. In what seemed like days, but may have been just a long night, Thor gained his believers' respect by bringing them rain, had them build temples in his honour, taught them to brew a barely tolerable beverage from agave sap, fought the people from the town his father played in some little skirmishes, then took in the refugees from there when a volcano nearby obliterated that city state.
Had it been a victory on the training grounds, Thor would have hopped with joy, but his father's scowl made very clear this outcome of the 'game' was undesired.
Contemplating it further, he realized it was. A chance victory, by circumstances, unworthy of a true warrior … and so many had died from that eruption, the earthquakes, and the following failed crops. But nobody could help that, could they? At least he had done his best – and won. Shouldn't that count for something? Thor was dismissed and sent to bed.
Loki had to stay, presumably for a lecture. On what, his brother wasn't sure.
The next day, the brothers sat by the garden pond, sharing rolls and steak tartare. „You were great!" Loki assured Thor once more. „Your first game, and you won!"
Thor really wanted to believe it, but winning against Father, on the very first game? „What did father tell you, after he sent me away?" he asked, dreading the answer.
„Hm? Oh, nothing." Loki replied.
„No, truly, brother, please tell me! I know I couldn't have won by my own skill."
„If you insist." Loki grinned. Leaning over conspiratorially, he whispered: „The volcano, that was me. You know Father appointed me god of fire, don't you? So I thought, you and me, we could support each other a bit, team up, you know ..."
Thor's jaw fell. So he owed his success to his brother? And furthermore, thousands of humans had died for that?
„... rain in the Huang-Ho valley, and then I will send you in return … Brother? Are you listening?"
Mutely, Thor shook his head, staring at his breadroll as if that did not agree with him.
„Maybe you overexerted your magic." Loki mused, concernedly. „Those mortals, I'm sure we could entice them to perform some rituals to cheer you up. I've long been thinking they should really carve a warrior's beating heart out of his chest and present it to the sky for us to partake."
Thor was sick behind the hawthorn bushes.
He blamed it on the meat. An apprentice in the palace kitchen lost his right hand for that, but the young prince learned of that only much later.
