Chapter Two: Asgard

Loki grunted as his back hit the wall of the training arena. He had misjudged the distance by at least a full pace. Damn. If only he did not have such a throbbing headache; then, this would have been easy.

Instead, the effects from the prior night of debauchery were still making themselves known. The drinks at the tavern had flown more freely than usual in celebration of Sif's 700th birthday. He had not been shy about partaking of them – nor had the man in front of him. In fact, it was rather alarming that Fandral was so much more alert than him. And that he was still charging directly at him.

Barely reacting in time, Loki ducked the jab of Fandral's sword and pushed off of the wall, darting back into the arena proper. His opponent was still grinning with glee, bringing his sword around to match Loki's new stance.

"Careful there, Loki," the blond man cautioned with a smirk. "Wouldn't want to impale you before Sif gets her chance."

Loki took a step to the side, slowly forcing Fandral to mimic the rotation to maintain his guard. "Funny, I would have said the same thing. I'm rather surprised she hasn't killed you already."

Not waiting for a reply, Loki struck out with his own sword, quick as a snake. The grin dropped from Fandral's face as he hastily shifted his position to parry the blow. Loki pressed him back a few steps, but again he had misjudged the space around him. Fandral easily evaded the attempt to corner him and returned to a defensive stance, waiting for Loki to attack once more.

Double damn. Why had he ever agreed to this sparring session? Oh, right, because he had never and would never back down from a challenge. Especially not one from a fop like Fandral.

"Why would she kill me?" Fandral asked, breaking Loki's miserable moment of self-condemnation. The man gestured grandly with his sword. "Sif loves me much too dearly for that."

"Perhaps she might have," Loki countered, keeping his eyes on Fandral's subtle shifts in footing, the sand stirring ever so slightly. "But I don't think she cared for you announcing to the world that you love her in a rather more intimate way."

Fandral laughed with a shake of his head. "What's a little declaration of love amongst friends?"

"Considering that Hogun had to take away her knives before she could stab you, I'd say it's not the wisest idea."

Fandral shrugged as he considered the words; Loki doubted the man had even noticed as Sif had furiously reached for her blades the night before. It had been quite the spectacle: Fandral drunkenly leaping on top of the bar to proclaim to the whole building that he was deeply, irrevocably in love with the female warrior, Sif scrambling to pull out any weapon with which to attack him, Hogun tackling her to the floor to stop her, and Sif inciting an all-out brawl that nearly leveled the tavern itself. Of course, if he had not challenged Fandral to a drinking contest in the first place, none of that would have happened, so perhaps Fandral did remember, and this current fight was his retribution.

Well, then, he would just have to humiliate the blond fool once more.

With that, Loki struck.

Thor whistled to himself as he strode through the halls of the palace. Today was a good day. The sky was bright, the air was clear, and he was surprisingly well-rested after all of last night's revelry. But best of all, he was fairly certain he and Loki were about to be sent out on a dangerous mission. How could a day get any better?

Finding the hallway that he was looking for, Thor turned down it, a jaunt in his step. Odin had sent for both him and Loki, and that could only ever mean one of two things: either they were in trouble, or they were being given an assignment. Since Thor could not recall doing anything lately that would be worth a reprimand – after all, the tavern-wide fight last night had been Sif's fault, not his – it had to be a mission. Already he could feel his fingers twitching with the urge to pull Mjolnir from his belt and put it to use.

But first he had to find Loki.

Reaching his brother's bedroom, Thor immediately turned the knob and opened the door. Great days did not have time for things like knocking; plus, barging in had the added bonus of annoying Loki just enough to irk him but not so much as to earn a dagger in his side. Most likely.

Stepping into the room, Thor called out, "Loki?"

"Over here."

Thor whipped his head around, looking for the source of the resigned sigh. Loki's chambers were crowded with bookshelves and cabinets between the three full-length windows lining the far wall, all holding texts and curious artifacts of a magical nature that he had long since learned not to touch. His gaze landed on the left side of the room where Loki's bed sat nestled in the clutter. Loki himself was sitting at the foot of his bed, surrounded by a mountain of books – not too unusual of a sight. But what was unusual was the alarming amount of blood on his brother's forearm.

"Loki! What happened?" Thor demanded as he crossed the room, his purpose for coming momentarily forgotten.

Loki merely shot him an annoyed glance before turning back to his arm. "Fandral nicked me in the training yard."

It looked like far more than a nick to Thor's eyes, the red soaking steadily into Loki's sleeve and dribbling down to his wrist. But he held back his protest as Loki waved his fingers over the wound with an odd flourish. Green light glowed from the spot as the skin stitched itself back together. It was mesmerizing, and yet the sight still unsettled Thor's stomach.

"There, good as new," Loki murmured to himself as he made another pass with his fingers to remove the bloodstain from his pale skin. He looked up with a raised brow. "Now, what do you want?"

Thor shook himself, trying to resurrect the enthusiasm that had brought him here in the first place. "Father has sent for us, so I came to get you."

With a huff, Loki got to his feet and went to his dressing room. The flutter of the torn shirtsleeve sent the sight of Loki's bloodied arm flashing through Thor's mind. While it had been easily fixed, it left him with a sense of unease. Uncomfortable with the feeling, Thor broke the silence by demanding, "Why didn't you just go to the healers?"

"It's called practice, Thor," Loki called back through the door. "I'd much prefer relying on my own skill than on a supply of magic rocks when we're out risking our lives around the universe."

Unsure of what to say to that – Loki did have a point, but still, healing was not work fit for a prince – Thor waited for Loki to come back. After a few moments, he emerged from the side room, a fresh tunic beneath his dark coat having replaced the ruined one, and his black hair was groomed back into place.

"So, did you and Sif destroy more of the tavern last night than I recall, or does Father want us for a mission?"

Glad for the change in subject, Thor chuckled. Sif's rampage had been the most fun he had had in weeks. He replied with mock indignation, "I didn't destroy anything. I merely… helped redecorate."

"And I'm sure the owner appreciated your assistance with all of his heart."

Thor grinned at Loki as they left the room, the memory of the injury already gone from his mind. "As he should, brother. As he should."

Loki followed a half-step behind Thor as they made their way through the palace. From the eagerness in his brother's steps, it was plain to see that Thor thought they were about to be sent off to settle yet another squabble in some foreign realm. And given that last night's festivities were hardly out of the norm for Thor and his friends, it seemed a likely enough reason for Odin to send for them.

Absently, Loki rubbed at the now-healed spot on his arm. He had won the duel with Fandral, but the margin on the win had been much thinner than he cared to think about. The other man had not gone down easily, a stray slash of his sword hitting Loki only moments before the concession. And of course, because his luck seemed determined to be against him today, Thor had walked in on him before he could fix the damage in peace. Annoyed by it all, Loki hoped that whatever the reason for the summons, it would be enough to make Thor forget what he had witnessed.

But if Thor felt confident that this was a meeting for an assignment, then Loki would not worry about it too much. As long as the mission was grand enough for Thor's tastes, there would not be a single other thought in his brother's head for weeks.

Except… a slow trickle of dread dripped down Loki's spine. Thor had just turned the corner to avoid the main hall, which meant this meeting was in Odin's private office. Either this was a secret mission or, more likely, there was going to be something unpleasant involved.

Minutes later, the door to the office thudded shut behind him. The walls of the dimly lit room seemed to press in on him as they approached Odin's desk. Odin looked as solemn as ever behind his desk, barely glancing up to acknowledge their arrival before gesturing for them to take a seat in the chairs facing him. Loki forced himself to relax as he sat down. It would not do to appear guilty before an accusation was made.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence – even Thor started to twitch his leg with impatience – Odin set his paperwork aside and leaned back in his chair. His expression was unreadable as he began to speak. "I've had troubling news from Heimdall."

Thor sent a poorly concealed glance of excitement at Loki, but Loki refused to shift his focus. Troubling news could mean anything.

Unperturbed, Odin continued evenly, "Troubling news from Midgard, in fact."

The gaze of the Allfather's single, brilliantly blue eye flickered between the two princes, but while Loki could sense Thor deflating in disappointment, his only emotion was confusion. Nothing of importance had happened on Midgard since the war with Jotunheim over seven centuries ago. Who could possibly want to stir up trouble on that wretched realm?

The silence was on the verge of becoming unnerving just as Odin finally decided to resume his explanation. "The Midgardians have engaged in less and less magic over the past few centuries. As a result, the spots in the realm that are marked by magic are easier for Heimdall to see. The Tesseract reaches him as clearly as ever, but new spots are emerging. New spots that show interference with the realm beyond our knowledge. At least, beyond my knowledge."

Loki's mind raced to analyze the implication. It still seemed impossible that anyone would want to visit the realm, let alone expend the vast amount of magic that would be needed to mark it. But, he supposed, it could be used as a place for beings to practice magic in secret, without having to worry about destroying anything of worth…

Oh, no.

The throbbing in his head returned with a vengeance while his heart sank. Distant, half-remembered memories fought for his attention as they surged up from the recesses of his mind. The unbearably hot and humid weather, his falsely confident reassurances to Thor that they were in the right place because pine trees meant they were in Norway, the nightmarish swarms of insects… oh, he knew exactly what spot Heimdall had sensed.

This was going to be very unpleasant.

Beside him, Thor's face was still creased with confusion, clearly not reaching the same conclusion. As if that were surprising. But Odin was leaning forward now, his eye narrowing at them. "One very specific spot has some remarkable characteristics. The magic bears the mark of…," his voice dropped to a deadly octave, "my sons."

Yes, this was going to be very, very unpleasant.

"What did you two do?" Odin barked angrily, his calm mask falling away.

Loki flinched. He could feel Thor's imploring look on the side of his face, begging him to take the lead on diffusing their father's fury. This was going to take a lot of careful effort.

Floundering for a moment while he tried to find any inspiration at all for a cover story, Loki cautiously fibbed, "We visited Midgard once – by accident – when I was first learning about the universe's pathways. Perhaps it left the mark?"

Not a great lie – he would rather people knew as little as possible about all the paths he had found beyond the Bifrost – but it was the best he could come up with. He could tell it would not be enough, though, as Odin's brow rose in disbelief. The Allfather turned his gaze toward Thor. "Is that so, Thor?"

Loki watched from the corner of his eye as Thor offered a weak, "Yes, Father." He cleared his throat, adding, "Loki was showing me what he could do, and we returned home once we realized that it was Midgard."

"Hmm." Odin got up from his chair to make his way to their side of the desk. "And yet, Heimdall sensed something far more potent than a mere portal. So again, I ask, what did you two do?"

What could they possibly say to explain what they had done? It had been an act of sheer insanity, one that Loki had not thought about in centuries. There had to be something he could say to soften the truth, right?

Thor cracked before Loki could even attempt to come up with an option. "We did visit Midgard as children, Father," he claimed in earnest. "But it was to make a challenge for the mortals. To prove their worthiness."

Loki had to clench his teeth to hold in a scream of frustration, the bite of his nails into his palms the only thing keeping him from slapping his brother for his idiocy. Thor, Thor, Thor… why could he not just leave the talking to him?

Predictably infuriated, Odin bellowed, "A challenge!? The mortals are not toys to be played with! And what was to be their reward?"

Sounding thoroughly cowed, Thor stammered, "One of Idunn's apples."

Loki shrank back at the look on his father's face; he had never seen it turn so red before. It was rather frightening. "One of…?" Odin trailed off with a disbelieving shake of his head. "Then the two of you will retrieve it."

Go back to Midgard? Disgust quickly replaced Loki's apprehension. What an utterly appalling idea. And yet, to be fair, it was merely a dull assignment – not the worst punishment, all things considered. It could have been much worse.

The thought was premature. With fury practically radiating from him, Odin bent forward slightly to place his hands on both of their shoulders. "You will retrieve the apple without the advantages of magic or immortal strength. If you wish to challenge the mortals, you must be able to prove your own worth as one of them before you can return home."

Immediately, Loki felt Odin's words take effect. He clutched at his chest. His heart thudded painfully as the magic that filled his very veins pulled back and retreated into the depths of his being. His entire body felt simultaneously heavier and lighter, as if he had run a great distance and now his muscles could not decide if they would collapse under the strain. Beside him, Thor gasped in pain as he underwent the same.

"Guards!" Odin shouted as he retrieved Gungnir and banged it once on the stone floor. Loki barely heard the doors open over the sound of his own shuddering breaths.

"Take my sons to Heimdall at once!"

Had he thought this was going to be unpleasant? No, it was going to be horrific.

A/N: A bit on the short side, but eh, we're still just setting up the pieces. Plenty more to come!