It had become increasingly difficult to hide Ásenthilay as the aeons had dragged on. She wanted freedom, a chance to breathe, and Loki wished for it as much as she. Except, they never seemed to get that chance. The only time that it was truly possible was when they were alone in his room (after the servants had done their part cleaning up and leaving Loki his newly pressed clothes), or wandering the garden pathways at night.
Sparring matches were a whole other story. The amount of spells he had to cast in order to keep Ásenthilay safe and hidden were extraordinary. Especially when Thor had suggested Sif to spar against him. She still held a grudge over the time when he'd sheared off all of her hair (oh come on, it'd just been in jest and as a prank). She did not go easy on him in the slightest. In fact, she went out of her way to make their sparring matches as difficult as possible.
Ásenthilay always complained about her brutality afterwards.
The dæmon had proven time and time again that the flaws attached to her, as a living, vulnerable, breathing personification of his soul, didn't matter. She spoke to him as an equal, expressed her ideas to match aspects of his own and knew him better than he knew himself.
"Disregard what the others say," Ásenthilay said. She lay on his lap as a grey fox, her tail curled beneath her chin. "Brawn isn't everything. Quick wit and swift actions in the thick of a battle can make all of the difference."
Loki shook his head, leaning back in his chair. His room was cloaked in shadow, lit only by the faint yellow flames that danced overhead - magic brought to life with a flick of his wrist. "That may be so but, brawn does play its part. We cannot deny that."
"No, we can't, and yet, you do so well without it." There was a glimmer of amusement to the dæmon's tone.
Brow furrowed in confusion, Loki looked down at her. "What, exactly, do you mean by that?"
"You know what I mean," Ásenthilay said with a quiet chuff of laughter. "You rely upon your magic and your stealth. You are quick on your feet and turn a skirmish to your advantage with your illusions and choices in long-range weaponry."
Loki hummed in thought. "Perhaps, although it still doesn't stop them from bringing my tactical differences up during the training regimes."
"Yes, however concealed beneath the mocking and the jeers they know, know that you are an asset to them, know that you are as fantastic a fighter as any one of them. Loki, you may lose in many a match to Thor -"
"That is the problem, rarely have I ever won against him."
Ásenthilay flicked out a tail, whacking it against his arm. "Let me finish."
With a flash of a scowl, he fell silent.
"You may lose in many a match to him but, you still challenge him. Your training regimes with Thor have lasted for far longer than you give yourself credit. You best him in wit and agility."
"For a time, only," Loki replied. "Still, he wins in the end."
Ásenthilay shook her head. "It does not matter. Don't let his wins get the better of you."
Loki ran a hand gently across Ásenthilay's furred back, a flash of frustration for his brother's superiority striking against his chest.
"They do, sometimes," he said quietly. "Is it so wrong to wish for a day where I get the best of him? Gain approval from Father for doing something right for once?"
"You are already doing the right thing," Ásenthilay said. "What does it matter if Father does not show you what is truly going on in that mind of his? You have Mother's approval; she believes that the control you have over your magic is vastly improving." Loki made a soft noise of dismissal - Ásenthilay turned to look up at him. "You are fine as you are, Loki. You do not need to change."
They were getting older, now seen as young adults by Æsir standards.
Odin sent Loki and Thor off on little tests, missions, to see how they fared. It was rare that they did not come back victorious. More often than not, Thor was the one praised for his efforts, whilst Loki was left to watch in the background, his own efforts acknowledged only by quick pats on his shoulder by Fandral or Volstagg in passing.
Seeing Thor take all of the credit...
It left a bad after-taste on Loki's tongue.
