Chapter 2.
He was doing it again.
Loki's thoughts betrayed him.
Thor was celebrating along with everyone else while his brother watched on with conflict.
He's not fit to be king.
He tried his best to ignore it, but he couldn't. He tried to defend Thor against his own mind. The truth was clear and soothing, but trouble to his soul. That was his justification.
He hated the idea of the throne being given to Thor. Loki thought that he himself was more suited for the role. He always loved the idea of becoming king.
Growing in the shadow of his mighty brother, in a society where power lay in strength, Loki had found himself always second best. Looked down upon by some, feared by others. It enraged him. He wasn't an outcast, no. But he wasn't the one casting the shadow. He was living in one and it angered him. His father had always said they were meant to be kings. Loki had found long and hard to become one. Cunning, manipulative, astute; gifted in eloquence and diplomacy. Hewas fit to rule.
Loki shook his head, willing himself to focus on the festivities. He needed to stop that envious logic. He loved his brother. Loved his brother deeply. Despite the fights and disagreements, Thor had always acted upon his role as an older brother, protecting Loki from harm. He stood up for him more often than not. And Loki was grateful…
He glanced around with mild entertainment. Loki had never enjoyed the festivities of the House of Odin and tonight was no different. He was indifferent to that which he couldn't talk advantage of.
As children, he remembered, he and Thor hadn't been allowed to attend so they had to amuse themselves in mischief. Loki enjoyed it the most. Harmless pranks that got both brothers under stern lectures of the Allfather had been worth it. Only so that growing up they'd have something to share.
As they grew, their paths became diverted. Thor favored war and strength. Loki, power in all of its forms, particularly in magic. Their parents had been supportive, of course.
"My friend!" Fandral's slap in the back caught him as he stood. "Why are you here brooding? You should be drinking and dancing. Enjoy the celebrations!"
"I am simply tired. I do not wish to be here."
The warrior gave him a knowing nod. "Yes, yes, but you'll miss the introductions."
"From whom?" Loki asked.
Fandral's eyebrows shot up. "Why, Lady Flora, of course. Did you not know? The Allfather has asked her to come tonight." At Loki's storm eyes, he quickly added, "Oh it's alright. Thor was not aware of it, either. We only know because Sif offered to care for her preparations beforehand."
The young prince became thoughtful. "And how is it that we were not told about this?"
"How should I know?" Fandral offered with a good-natured smile. "Perhaps her beauty is a legend's tale that has been left as a surprise for you, princes, or perhaps something more dramatic for you convenience."
"No." Loki started slowly. "I don't believe it's of any importance that would require our immediate attention."
"Perhaps." Fandral conceded. "But…ah, so there she is."
A petite figure walked unsure across the Hall, glancing around timidly. Sif, walking besides her, was talking animatedly. They approached the Allfather and Frigga, kneeling and bowing. The young maiden, it was noted, stood close to Frigga as though expecting some protection from the curious eyes.
And for the second time that night, someone slapped him hard in the back. Loki grimaced slightly. "It seems we are needed, brother." Thor grinned and pulled him towards the throne.
"Sons," began Odin as they approached. "This is Lady Flora, daughter of Agni and our guest tonight. A healer, sent by our gracious friend to serve the realm."
Loki's eyebrows furrowed. He studied the woman standing before him. She was dressed in a yellow gown; she was only adorned by the warm smile now directed towards them. Her dark hair fell across her shoulders and to her back. Her eyes danced in wonder as his brother took her hand and kissed it lightly. "Prince Thor, Prince Loki. It is a great privilege." Her voice was amiable and well mannered. Timid, small, like everything her. As expected Loki took the offered hand carefully pressed his lips against her delicate, fair skin. As she modestly pulled it away and blushed, casting her eyes downward, Loki was filled with a thought he'd not regret in the near future.