Thank you guys so much for the response! Sorry I've been unreliable about the updating, but no promises it'll get better…somehow the internets always out. …I seem to remember somebody saying it was supposed to make our lives EASIER…

Loki had finally caught his breath. He and Thor had been chosen the last two to show themselves in the Tournament. At least Thor had gone last. It was better that they see success as the final showing of Odin's house.

Loki looked down at his arm. The place where the creature had had him was healed – it never took long when Mother had Eir use the Healing Stones – there was barely even a mark that he had been held. He put the arm back behind him, bitter disappointment replacing the fear that had so overwhelmed him on the Tournament grounds. Shame burned him – making his face go hot – that he should be the one to so disgrace his father's name in front of everyone, even the councilors from Vanaheim! He didn't understand why they hadn't let him use his magic. Wouldn't the Vanir have enjoyed it? And he understood it so much more than he did the stupid sword he had been given. His eyes stung and he bit down hard on his tongue. It would not do at all for him to first fail in the Tournament, and then cry about it like a babe, especially with all of the court and the visitors here to see. He wished, almost, that his mother had stayed with him. But, of course, she couldn't do that. She was the queen and it was proper that she stay beside his father. Bad enough that she had been forced to leave to care for his injuries already. She had asked if he would come and sit with her, as he had all those other years, but that was what he had done when he was too young to join. He was far too old now. But he didn't want to go back with the others. Not after what had happened. So he stood off by the door, where there were no other people and where few could see him unless they were to come out of the door behind him, or to come in.

Of course Thor had done well. Thor was golden and bright and strong and brave and everything that Loki just wasn't. Thor would never fail a Tournament all because he got scared. Thor never got scared. Loki wished – but the wishing hurt and he wasn't going to cry so he bit his tongue and made himself stop.

Then the Tournament was truly good and over. Thor had slain his beast and the final ceremonies had been completed. Loki should have shown himself for that, but he didn't trust himself to, he would blame his hand, that it had still hurt and he had gone to ask…someone, about it. Who he had gone to ask he didn't know, everyone he could think of was here, but maybe he would say that he had forgotten, that he had thought he saw Eir in the hall.

"Loki!" He jumped, startled by the sudden salutation. Thor was coming through the doorway, laughing with the others who had fought, calling to him, beckoning him to join with them – to go and play before the start of the great feast that was to follow.

But he wasn't going to.

Sudden anger burned through him. Why did Thor always have to do better? He studied more than Thor did - practiced at least just as hard. The words rolled off his tongue before he rightly knew what it was saying, "I hate you Thor!" his foot came down hard against the ground, "I hate you, I hate you," his hands had made tight fists at his sides. "I hate you!" The smile had vanished from Thor's face, "I wish I had anyone else for a brother! I wish –" the group who followed Thor had gone shocked and quiet, Loki didn't care, "I wish I had a Frost Giant for a brother instead of you!" He was shaking and his breath came too fast. No more words came and without them he felt naked and small, afraid.

"Loki," Thor's voice was hurt.

But Loki didn't care. All of them were looking at him and he didn't want them to. He turned and ran away before he could disgrace himself completely.

He fled down the long halls and straight to his room where he shut the door firmly behind him. He crawled into the dark corner between his bed and the wall, drawing his knees up to his chest and hiding his face in his arms. His breathing evened out, the shaking stopped, and the tears slowly went back to wherever it was they came from, but Loki didn't move. He was angry and he didn't want to go back.

~.~

Frigga smiled politely at the heavily perfumed Vanir councilwoman who had turned in her seat to speak to her. She wasn't especially fond of most of the Vanir – they were too flowery and sickly sweet – and right now she had other things on her mind. Loki had been bleeding badly when they had taken him from the field. The healing had gone just fine – there were no complications – the wound wouldn't even leave a scar – but still, Frigga worried after him. He never took failure well. She had wanted him to sit with her, but he had refused, and she hadn't seen him since, even though he should have been there for the closing. She wanted to find him, but she was the Queen, and it would not be proper for her to disappear without notice. Especially not in the middle of an – albeit intolerably dull – conversation with a foreign courtier.

"Queen Frigga!"

Her head shot up and she saw Sif, pushing her way through the legs of the nobles who had by this time stood up. Frigga was good friends with Sif's mother, and the girl was almost like a daughter to her. She raised a hand to the woman – she knew she had been introduced and she should have remembered the name, "Could you excuse me for a minute?"

"Of course," the woman smiled a dazzlingly fake smile.

Frigga let it go with something dangerously close to relief and turned back to the girl, who had come right up and now grasped her hand, "Come quickly!" her face was troubled. Sif was a resourceful and independent girl. If she was coming to her – or any adult for that matter – speaking that way with that kind of look on her face, Frigga was inclined to believe that whatever it was, the problem was serious.

Odin was busy; he caught her look and waved a hand, allowing her to go.

"Sif, what is it?"

Sif didn't answer, but lead her to one of the side doors, where there was a group of many of the younger boys who had been in the Tournament. They fell silent when she came, moving to reveal Thor, who was standing uncertainly, his lip caught between his teeth, looking very much like he wanted to cry. Thor often lost his temper, but it was a rare thing for him to weep, especially now that he was older.

"Thor?"

His face turned up to her, blue eyes brimming with tears, "Mother,"

Frigga looked to Sif, "Sif, would you lead everyone down to the feast?"

Sif gave a sharp nod, and Frigga swooped forward, taking Thor gently by his shoulder and leading him away from the others and toward his room.

She wasn't quite fast enough.

"What happened?" a concerned, and all-together too bejeweled Vanir woman cooed, peering down toward her son, trying to get a look at his face.

Frigga shielded him with her body, "The prince has injured his hand. All will be well."

They made it to his room without further complication and Frigga closed the door behind them, relieved to be away from prying eyes.

"Mother," his voice was unsteady, "Mother, Loki –" it broke completely.

"Shh," Frigga gathered him to her and his golden head went down against her shoulder, "He hates me, Mother," he said weakly, rubbing at the tears, "Loki said he hates me,"

Frigga knew both of her sons, and her heart sank. Loki had taken his loss less well than she had hoped, and worse, he had taken out his disappointment on his brother. She sighed, leading Thor to the seat by his window, "Tell me what happened."

~.~

"I am going to go and see to your brother, alright?"

Thor nodded, playing with the fringes of the blanket which was thrown across the seat in the window on which he sat, not raising his eyes to meet hers.

Frigga sighed, letting her hand rest briefly on his head, then slip through his long hair and left, closing the door lightly behind her and, crossed the hall to Loki's room.

The door was shut. Frigga tapped on it, but there was no answer. There never was. She pushed the door open and stepped in, "Loki?" there was a shift in the shadows on the far wall by his bed. She closed her eyes, wishing that her boys could stay children forever, and closed the door behind her. She gathered up her skirts and went up on top of the bed, clambering across it to where she could see her boy. He was sitting on the ground in the darkest corner, his face hidden in his arms.

"Loki?"

The boy sighed, lifting his head and resting his chin on his knees. He didn't look at her.

"Loki, what happened?"

The boy bit his lip and looked away without actually moving his head. It made her think that he knew what he had said was a lie, and that he was sorry for it, but she didn't know how to make him admit it. She sighed, sitting down on the bed, "I was just talking to Thor, and he told me that you hated him."

Loki blinked and looked down even further toward the ground, but made no move to speak.

She asked him seriously, "Do you hate your brother?"

Loki's head shot up, "No!"

His eyes skated away. He hadn't meant to answer her. She pretended not to notice, "Then why did you say that to him?"

"I don't know," Loki gave up miserably. He laid his head back down on his arms and his voice came up to her muffled, "I was angry,"

"You can't just say things like that, Loki," Frigga said, "Your brother is very upset."

Loki gave a derisive sound, raising his head, "Sure he is," he rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand, "I'm sure the feast is very quiet."

"It is." Frigga smoothed out the blanket by her hand, watching her son, gauging how best to reach him.

Loki gave the same derisive sound, settling his chin on his knees once again.

"Your brother didn't come."

Loki's head came up and he looked at her disbelievingly.

Frigga nodded, turning back to watch her hand, "He's been in his room ever since you left." Loki turned away blinking at the far wall, "You should speak to him, Loki. He's very upset."

He hugged his knees tighter to him, "I don't want to."

"I know," Frigga said gently, but firmly, "But you have done wrong, and you owe your brother an explanation," she pushed herself up and moved off of the bed, "and an apology. Are you coming?"

It was a moment, but then he stood, eyes trained steadily on the ground, and clambered across the bed to stand before her.

"There's my boy," she smiled fondly at him, laying a hand on the top of his head, "Go and speak to your brother."

Loki nodded mutely and allowed her to nudge him to the door.

~.~

Mother had asked him if she wanted her to come with him. Loki looked down the hall where she had disappeared. He almost wished he had asked her to stay. But not really. He took a deep breath, trying to force down the fluttering cold feeling in his chest - it was foolish, Thor was only his brother - and knocked.

There wasn't any answer.

Taking another deep breath, he pushed the door open.

The first thing that Loki noticed was that it was dark, which was strange for Thor. There was a sick feeling in the back of his throat as he went to turn away - he was beginning to wonder whether Thor had maybe gotten over it and was already down at the feast as if nothing had happened, but then a sound stopped him, a soft snuffling.

He turned back.

Loki scanned the room again, and this time he saw him – Thor - curled up by the window, starring dejectedly at the floor. He had his legs drawn up, one arm wrapped protectively around his waist, the other up as his hand rubbed at his face…

He'd been crying.

Loki had never seen his older brother like this, and it frightened him.

He had told Thor that he hated him, and Thor had gone up to his room and cried.

Loki's throat closed, a soft sound, almost like a whimper, escaping his lips before he could snap them shut.

Thor gave a start and his eyes flickered to him, wide and startled.

Loki opened his mouth, "Thor I –" his breath was coming fast and shallow. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to run back to his room where he was safe. He forced the words out, all in a tumble before he didn't have a chance, "I'm sorry,"

Thor had stood up and Loki meant to run, but he didn't move quite fast enough and was caught as his brother wrapped him in a hug.

"I'm sorry," words spilled frantically out of his mouth, "Let me go, Thor, please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I – I didn't mean – didn't mean any of it. Pl-please let – let me go,"

"Loki," Thor's voice was hoarse, but gentle, which almost made it worse.

Loki's breath hitched violently in his chest and he wanted to stop babbling, but he couldn't, "I'm sorry, Thor, I'm sorry,"

"Shh, Loki, it's alright,"

Thor let go of him. His throat ached and he turned back to face his brother. Thor was very close, standing, tall again. "I di-didn't – I didn't mean it, Thor,"

Thor gave him a lopsided – unsteady – smile, laying a hand on Loki's shoulder, his eyes warm and forgiving, "I love you, Brother. Never forget that."

Loki's mouth snapped shut. His eyes stung and he had to bite his lip hard. A sob clawed its way out of his throat.

Thor sounded shocked, "Loki, don't cry,"

But that only made it worse. Thor pulled him roughly into a hug as he fought to regain control. Thor's voice was almost too quiet for Loki to hear it as he said against his hair, "I'm sorry too, Brother. I don't really know what I did to make you angry, but if you tell me, I swear, I'll never do it again."

This was the brother he knew, fierce and protective and rash and stupid.

It made him feel worse.

After a few minutes, the heaving stopped and he stood up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, fighting to catch his breath.

Thor kept one hand on his shoulder, by his neck, forcing him again to meet his gaze, "I'm sorry, Loki."

Loki sniffed, smearing away the tears with the back of his hand, "Me too," He looked at his brother, tall, shining, powerful, and on impulse he darted forward, almost knocking him over backwards as he hugged him. He let go nearly just as quickly, and Thor smiled, "I'm going down to the feast. Will you come?"

There was a vague sinking feeling in Loki's chest. He'd behaved himself very poorly, and wasn't at all sure he wanted to see anyone just yet, not their friends or the courtiers, and especially not the visitors. But Thor wanted him to come. He nodded.

Thor grinned, "Race you," and took off.

"No fair!" But Loki was laughing as he flew out of the room after his brother.

Ooo, by the way, if you want to read any other stories I've written about Thor and Loki's childhood, I've tried to keep these in the same verse.