A/N: A mischievous chapter... it should lead to three more chapters: one with Odin and Loki really interacting, one of "that one day years ago...," and what Loki actually plans to do to Thor in his poetic justice. Fun things. Enjoy! :)

Loki sat on his bed with his book open, but he wasn't reading it. He was contemplating whether he wanted to read, trick someone-Thor was at the top of that list; it was a long story-visit Frigga, or visit Odin. He would let his mind focus in on one of those things and then relax, examining whatever emotion first came up. After several minutes of this, it seemed like he wanted to trick someone. He smiled and closed his book, his senses suddenly alert like a hunted animal and his mind racing through scenarios. Magic sparked at his fingertips; a few weeks ago, he'd learned some new spells from Frigga and hadn't found the right situation to use them in. Loki decided that he was feeling poetic in his slightly skewed yet (mostly) harmless justice system, and so he went over what had happened, trying to decide what would be the most poetic of justices. An eye for an eye, the mortals said. He'd read that in a book somewhere during his Midgardian studies, which he had a mild dislike for.

Loki made his way to his rooms, clutching a healing book in his hands. After that incident in the healer's wing where he had jumped out the window and then tormented the guards in the library, he had decided that he'd try harder not to spend time in there again.

For Loki, that meant stealing a healer's book and attempting to learn the spells on his own.

The consequences could be disastrous, of course, but he had taken as many precautions as Frigga had taught him. He walked into his room and allowed himself entry to his little protective bubble. This was supposed to prevent any magic from escaping and damaging the rest of the room. The only thing in harm's way would be his bed, which, if anything happened, could be easily dismissed with the lie of practicing an explosive spell rather than a healer's spell.

He sat criss-cross on his bed and flicked his fingers, setting a spell on the door that functioned as an alarm. If anyone came within five feet of his door for longer than five seconds, that would send an alert to Loki and would give him time to put up an illusion. If it was Frigga, he'd have a considerably less chance of pulling it off-she hadn't taught him very many illusions, after that one day years ago…

Anyway, though the illusion would probably not work on Frigga, it would most likely work on people such as Thor and Odin. Odin's magic, though it was vast, was highly untrained. He did not understand the fine points of magic-his skills were more in war, and the typical brute strength of the Asgardian fighting style.

Hours later, Loki felt a sudden pain in his mind, stabbing sharply and then pulling away, leaving a fading sting and a surprised gasp from him. He shut the book and set it beside him-with the cover turned away-and picked up his other book. He waved a hand and set an illusion of his room in place just as the door opened. He severed the magic supply of whatever spell he had been trying to practice and covered up the small cut on his hand.

He glanced up, his eyes not giving away any emotion, and watched Thor walk into the room. Loki was well aware of the illusion he had set in place even without having been the one to do it, for he had well trained himself in the delicacies of magic; his magic senses were finer than a needle's point. He might not have very many skills with actual spells, but he could enable and disable illusions just fine, as well as sense and identify the spells used around him with hardly any trouble. He was more interested in defense than offense. Odin was the opposite. When Odin did oblige and fight Loki with his magic, their battles were very interesting. It was a rare occasion, but fun nonetheless.

Thor walked around to the side of the bed. He pointed at the book beside Loki, but didn't pick it up.

"What's that book? I've never seen that before. Not that I'm interested," he added hurriedly, "but it looks very elaborate, brother."

The healer's book was very elaborate. It was pure white leather with gold trim which swirled into different designs at the corners, and was bound with a gold strap that latched the book closed on the front.

Careful to turn the spine away from Thor, Loki quickly crafted an illusion on the book just as he handed it to his brother. Now, the book's title was Alfheim: Realm of the Light Elves, A Complete Study and History.

Thor fingered the gold lettering. A puzzled expression crossed his face. "This looks and feels like a healer's book. Brother, did you steal one of their books?"

Loki scoffed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "How would you know if it was a healer's book, brother?" He plucked the book from Thor's hands and replaced it on his shelf, then turned back to Thor. "It's not like you ever read books anyway."

Thor smiled. "Why would I? The fine arts are the arts of swordplay and war, brother! You don't study them half as much as you should, just as I don't study books and learning half as much as Mother says I should. But who cares? No big deal. Besides, being a scholar wouldn't help me become the greatest warrior in Asgard!"

Loki made a noise. Thor was acting like he was seven in Midgardian years, when they were well into their teenage years. Loki was fourteen and Thor sixteen, both in Midgardian years, and had grown past fantasies such as that.

At least, that's what he had thought.

"Why did you come here, brother? What crazy scheme are you and your friends planning now?" Loki sat on the bed and Thor joined him. A puzzled look flashed across Thor's face, but was quickly hidden as Loki glanced up at him. Something was wrong, Thor knew. The bed didn't feel right; it felt fake. He'd fallen for enough of Loki's illusions over the years to be able to tell at least a few signs of them.

"We're not planning any scheme today, brother. I simply came to visit you," Thor replied. Loki narrowed his eyes. Thor never came to simply visit him. Usually, he was playing a prank that eventually failed, or-

"Where are they?" Loki asked. His hand drifted to his pillow, where there was a dagger hidden beneath it. The servants had long since grown used to it; they always replaced the dagger when they changed his sheets. It was a mutual understanding that he would not play pranks on the servants who cleaned his room, and they would not tell Odin of the many lies he told, including the fact that he wasn't allowed to have weapons beneath his pillow.

"Where are who? Loki, I'm not-"

"Yes you are," Loki said. He pulled the dagger out. "I've been through too many of these training drills to believe that you're simply visiting me. Actually, these are getting quite annoying. Honestly, did you really think that Sif could hide in my wardrobe?"

He stepped to the side just as his wardrobe flung open and Sif stepped out almost as if she was drunk, the irritation radiating off of her like heat from a flame. She glared at Thor. "You said you'd be there in five minutes, Thor, not five hours! I can't feel my legs, you witless oaf!"

Thor looked alarmed. Sif's wrath was never something to be taken lightly. Loki would have laughed if it wasn't for the nagging worry in his mind. If Sif had been there for five hours, that meant that she would've heard him practicing healing magic and not reading like he had made Thor believe. He glanced at her; she made eye contact. They held it for a long moment, Loki with the barest hint of pleading and question in his emerald eyes and a strong battle of emotions in Sif's dark ones. Finally, she gave a small, imperceptible nod and Loki relaxed a fraction of an inch, though he knew he wasn't completely safe yet. Sif hated him; he could not guarantee that she wouldn't tell Odin of his lies.

Loki turned back to Thor, his dagger still poised in his hand. Fandral stormed in then, followed by Volstagg and Hogun, expecting to find a battlefield, but slowed at the sight of them just standing around.

"What happened?" Fandral asked. "I was looking forward to the kidnapping!" He put on a disappointed face and lowered his sword.

Loki smirked. "Whoever said the drill was over?" He lunged forward and nicked his blade on Fandral's side. It would only leave a small cut, barely the size of his finger, but Fandral still acted as if he had given him a deep gash, clutching his side and groaning, falling over dramatically and crying out at the "unbearable pain." Volstagg grinned and rushed over to Fandral, acting as if he was tending to the severely wounded. Hogun, Thor, and Sif all surrounded Loki, fighting smiles as they tried to play the part of the mysterious kidnapper, with Fandral's dramatic groaning in the background.

"Surrender, or you will face a most unpleasant consequence," Thor said, his voice quivering in barely suppressed laughter as he delivered the over-the-top lines. Loki smirked, both in laughter at the dramatic show they were putting on and the arrogance of the God of Mischief, who could easily take out a few lowlife minions of some villain or other.

His hand flashed out and caught Thor's sword on his own, while his other hand drew a dagger from his clothes and blocked Sif's sword. He danced with the three of them for a while, until he was backed into a corner and had five gleaming sword tips pointed at his chest.

Fandral's sword tip flicked out with surprising strength and disarmed Loki of one dagger; the other was quickly hidden behind his back before Sif's sword tip could relieve him of that, too. He smirked, now fully in the drama, feeling the confidence he'd feel if he was really outnumbered by people who wanted only to kidnap him. His mind raced, though a small part of it knew that it wasn't real, he enjoyed believing it was and trying to figure out a way to beat them. The game was that if he reached the hallway, he had won, but if they could hold him so he admitted he could not think of a way to escape, then they'd won.

He was being kidnapped, so they wanted him alive. If that was so, then they were not allowed to hurt him to kill him, so their movements would be slightly held back. They would not be fighting to kill, but he would-theoretically-because he did not care who they were. He only needed one of them to get information from; the rest did not matter.

He could try to slide underneath them and then run, but there were five of them and one of him. It was more likely that he'd be caught. He could always talk his way out of it; they couldn't kill him, after all, but it was more likely that they'd ignore him and end up gagging him than actually listening.

A second later, he flicked his dagger out and it struck the tip of Fandral's blade, causing it to quiver slightly at the touch. Fandral glanced down in momentary surprise and confusion, before Loki's hands were on his chest and he was pushed backwards. Loki slipped between the wall and Fandral and began running towards the doors to his room. He reached it in minutes and triumphantly pushed the doors open, taking a step out into the hallway and turning back to smirk at Thor and his friends, who slowed in reluctant defeat. Thor put his hands up in surrender and took a step forward.

"All right, you win-this time," Thor said, with a grin on his face. Loki walked back inside and closed the doors behind him.

"Well then," Loki said, "does that mean I can get back to my reading? I'm sure these drills are fun for you all, but they're not for me. I don't take enjoyment in being ambushed by my brother and his friends, and neither" -he glared pointedly at Sif- "by being spied on for five hours."

Thor sighed. "Loki, why don't you ever join us for activities? This is far more fun than the books you read all the time. Don't you agree?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "No, in fact, I do not agree. I thought you would've figured this out by now, but then again, I always overestimate your intellectual abilities. Clearly, you don't understand that I want to read and you five should be leaving," he replied bitingly. He really wasn't in the mood for this; his illusion wouldn't last much longer, either.

Sif rolled her eyes and stepped forward, brushing past Thor. "Come on. He's obviously not in the mood; he can miss out on the fun things we have planned." She glanced back at Loki, a mischievous glint in her eye. "The mischievous things we have planned."

Loki ignored her-or tried to, at least. When they left, he sat on his bed, letting the illusion drop and considering his options. He could turn himself invisible and follow them, because Sif did know how to make something sound enticing to him. Mischief was tempting, but for some reason, he wasn't in the mood for it. He sat back down on his bed and opened the healing book he'd gotten from the shelf again, only to receive another short jab into his mind. The illusion was brought up again and the book was closed; he stood by the bookshelf, putting the book away, as if he was just getting up to retrieve a new book.

Odin walked in with Thor following close behind. Sif came in last, a smug look on her face. Loki's shoulders dropped slightly. It would be hard to talk his way out of this one.

"I've received news you stole a healer's book, and that you've been practicing healing magic," Odin said calmly. His eyes bored into Loki's. Loki's mind raced, going through multitudes of scenarios, all slightly different based on what he said.

"No, Father, I didn't. Why would Thor tell you that? You said I can't study healing magic until I'm at least three centuries older," Loki replied, making his voice and expression as innocent as possible, though his mind was frenzied. Part of it ran through situations, while the other part tested the strength of his illusion, and a third part probed Odin for any traces of magic that would allow him to see through Loki's lies.

Thor suddenly ran to the bookshelf, where he grabbed the white healer's book despite the title on the spine. "Father, this is the book! I know it is! Loki's put an illusion on it. Sif told me!"

Odin examined the book while Loki seethed, glaring at Thor, who only gave a triumphant, gloating smile. Sif stepped forward and proceeded to recount the whole tale-Loki was lucky he hadn't actually set the wardrobe on fire, as he was planning to do in one of his moments of frustration-and Loki was confined to his room for four days and the healer's books placed under better guard.

Oh, how he was planning his revenge.

As Loki sat on his bed, a slow smile came to his face. He knew just the thing…