New chapter! Please let me know what you think! Do you think these chapters are too long? Not quite sure which word count I should aim for.

Chapter 5: The Hunt

"Hunting?" It was all Freyja could do to keep the smile on her face. "Yes, certainly. Who doesn't love to hunt?"

She didn't. It was a terrible pastime, cruel and loud and dirty. Freyja ate venison, yet she didn't feel like she needed to know the stag that gave it. But Thor loved to hunt, so she did, too. It was easy to lose herself in the woman she had to be. Freyja, love of Thor, was a grander woman than her, with many interests.

"Then it is settled," Thor said with a smile as bright as the sun. "We will ride at first light."

That also meant she had no time to study tonight. It had been near on a moon's turn since Loki had taught her illusions. Although, 'taught' seemed too lofty a description for what he'd done. Freyja had read every book he'd given her since then and he'd given her many. He liked to appear in her chambers unexpected, whether she was abed or not yet dressed, i didn't matter. At least he had never caught her bathing so far. Then again, Loki paid her so little heed, she could dance in front of him naked, with a snake for a belt and a bird on her shoulders. He'd only notice her if she wore his father's crown.

"I so love a sunrise," she smiled. "Will your brother come as well?"

She must have made a face, or perhaps Thor simply saved himself some time and assumed Freyja had asked out of caution, not out of desire to see the younger prince.

"No," he took her by the shoulder like a man would a brother and led her down the path. "Loki doesn't like to hunt. Not like that, at least. He prefers shadows to swords and spells to arrows."

Freyja put her hand on Thor's arm very lightly but for once, he got a hint. Thank Bor, she thought. She couldn't go on like this forever, walking at his side like a counsellor or friend. Thor offered her his arm, as a prince would have, should have a hundred yards back.

"You are too kind." She flashed him a studied smile. Thor liked to see her smile, he said. But then again, he rarely saw anything else. Sometimes, Freyja felt like a statue with a chiselled smile.

"Not at all. I like your company. We enjoy the same things, I feel."

That was the most she had ever gotten from him. Thor, for all his boisterous simpleness, had proven a very difficult capture. He had many friends and loved many people and Freyja was just one of many. He sent her gifts, few of them handpicked, and whirled her around at every feast, took walks with her occasionally and demonstrated every thrice damned sword trick half a hundred times but not a single word would cross his lips when it came to marriage.

So Freyja had to take a different approach.

"So do I. It is curious...I came here for a sister...and found a new friend, too."

Thor stopped mid-walk. "Friend?"

She smiled at him, her sweetest, most innocent smile. "Just so. We are friends, my prince, aren't we?"

The moment it took him to reply was glorious. She had tried and tried to win his favour when it had come to her: She couldn't. She could show him how wonderful she was but Thor loved to hunt. It had been that dreaded trip that had given her the idea.

"Friends," he repeated, bluntly. "Yes, we are. Friends."

He took her hand unbidden but not to put it onto his sleeve cautiously. He held it in his, where it vanished. This was not what a friend would do.

"I'm glad for it. Of course, at Sessrumnir, I would never have many friends. Potential husbands my father would parade before me, one after the other, but never a man I could ride with and hunt and…" Was this it? The only things that came to her mind? "Celebrate."

Yes, that was it.

"So many?" Thor asked. "He must be desperate for you to wed."

"Oh, he is. That is why I came here. I will not wed unless a man pleases me entirely. There should be no compromises made when one chooses the one person to spend your life with, don't you think, my prince?"

And Thor, brave and good and handsome as the sun himself, fell for her trap.

"So," he started, giving her his undivided attention. "What would this fellow look like?"

Freyja gave him her prettiest, shyest giggle. "My prince is very forward. You cannot ask a woman to lay open such a secret. Not even a friend."

And with that, she withdrew her hand. "I will see you on the morrow, my prince. I'm so thrilled, I might just stay awake all night."

Her low curtsy hid the triumphant smile that fought through her mask of courtesy and then, Freyja turned and hurried away, aware that her silhouette would look fine from behind. She had dressed in blue for today, in a clinging gown of velvet.

~o~

"You have no need for illusions." His voice cut through her peaceful drowsiness like a dagger. "I'm starting to believe you could convince my father he still has both eyes if you set your mind to it."

Freyja opened her eyes. She had been half asleep already. Loki stood in the empty hallway, one hand pushing aside the tapestry. She had grown accustomed to this lack of privacy.

"I'm starting to believe you're trying to harrow me into giving up."

"I'm not that much of a fool. You're worse than a bitch with a bone."

"Charming as ever." Freyja didn't bother to pull up the sheets. Loki never looked at her that way. "Now, are you here to teach me for once or have you come with another pointless lecture?"

"If you consider my lectures pointless, I think it prudent to hold them again."

He sat down at her desk, picking up a book, setting it back down on the untidy pile, gazing over a half written letter to her father.

"Dearest lord father," he read with acid in his voice, "the golden court remains a marvel to me. I am beyond grateful for the Queen's decision to take me into her service. Her Grace is lovely and king, the king formidable, though I see little of him. The crown prince is the soul of gallantry…" He turned around to her with a look of distaste. "Your hand must have hurt writing this. Even Thor's first efforts at letter writing weren't this painful to look at and he tried his hardest to defile our most cherished language."

"Don't read it if it upsets you. I might point out it is a private letter anyway."

He scoffed. "Nothing you do is private. Well," a wolfish grin flashed over his face. "Apart from this, of course. Our little...arrangement."

She needed to sleep before the hunt. She needed rest to maintain this game. But she replied all the same.

"Not much of an arrangement."

Freyja stretched in bed like one of his mother's lap cats. Loki knew she hid a smile but there was a triumph in her eyes she could hide.

"And why am I wasting my time teaching you then?"

"Oh, you aren't. You haven't taught me anything. You've told me half a hundred things, yes, and given me more books than I could ever read. But have I learned anything?"

"Your incapacity for learning and your stubborn insistence on your time-consuming, well, day activities, if you will, are hardly things you can fault me for. I give you the tools but you must use them yourself. This excellent work on shifting, for example –"

"Enough with the books," she said, voice lower now, like a lover's whisper. Her face, however, didn't hide her feelings. "You are stalling. At this rate, I will have to read the whole bloody library before you teach me anything."

He raised a mocking brow at her curse. "Well, it might do you good. There are quite many areas –"

But it was enough. For weeks she had worked hard during the day, smiling and dancing and feigning interest, and harder even at night, reading and practising. She was bone-tired and on edge and Loki would feel this edge now. Freyja threw the covers aside and jumped to her feet.

"This is all a charade. A mummery you put up to gain without giving. And I'm done. If you're not going to honour your part of our deal, so won't I."

She was stabbing at the air with a raised finger.

"A mummery?" Loki was outraged. That was rich coming from her of all people. "Well, you must know, with this game you're playing with my brother."

There was a flicker behind her pale blue eyes, barely noticeable, easily mistaken for a trick of the light. But nothing escaped his notice. What was it? Guilt? Loki doubted it. Had she expected him to be as easily fooled as Thor?

"It is no game. I love your brother." There was something defiant in the way she said it, apart from that, he truly couldn't tell whether she was speaking the truth. She would never be Queen of Asgard but she was the Queen of Lies, second only to him.

"Please," he scoffed, "as if you even know the meaning of the word." His thoughts went back to the long suffering sister. The question remained...did she know?

Her face hardened. "Don't lay the inadequacies of your own soul at my door."

"You don't know my soul," he said, louder than he should have.

It was a strange thing to say, she thought, and the raw emotion in his voice, suppressed but tangible, made her deeply uncomfortable. Loki was to be her teacher. She needed to keep her distance. She had not thought it difficult: He had a reputation for being standoffish and aloof. She had not considered him capable of emotions so deep, so untamed, so intense. She could not afford to feel anything for him if this was to work. Not pity, not even comradeship. She had to remain professional, she had to learn as quickly as possible. And so, Freyja did what she did best. She let down her visor.

"Nor do I want to. All I want from you is a lesson in magic."

If she had had any doubts that he knew he was not more than a means to an end for her, those doubts were certainly quietened now, he mused, bitterly. As if he had ever shown the slightest inclination towards wanting more than humiliating his brother.

"That's all you'll get." For a moment, he wanted to threaten her with withholding this precious lesson, too, but that would be unwise. She was not the patient type.

Therefore, he simply drew himself to full height. So towering over her, he felt a little better. He allowed an arrogant smile to take hold of his lips. Much better. Even the glare she threw him then couldn't throw him off balance. He had armoured himself.

"Fine," she said, feeling a little like a petulant child.

"Fine." He was not, however. She had not seen it, he hoped, the clawmark her words had left on his heart. The inadequacies of his soul. That he couldn't love, that he wasn't loved. She had seen it. She had seen his jealousy, his anger, his bitterness. She had seen it. His father's, his mother's love for Thor, a love that eclipsed the one they felt for him. And worse, she had seen in which low regard Thor held him.

Freyja, so determined not to feel for him, not even the smallest grain of pity, had closed her eyes and her heart to him, however, and hadn't seen anything.

"What now?" She was shivering in her thin nightgown. The fire had long gone out in her hearth and it seemed to be going out in her, too. "I want to learn. And I will uphold the bargain, whatever I do during the day. Will you teach me? Properly?"

"Not tonight." He was too shaken for great tricks tonight.

"No," she agreed. "Your brother goes hunting at first light."

"And you will go with him." But would she be the hunter or the prey? Perhaps both.

"Yes."

She wasn't thrilled. Loki himself disliked hunting. There was no refinement in it, no elegance. It was a dirty, sweaty, bloody endeavour and he found no entertainment in it. Stags rarely offered much of a challenge to him at that. His brother was content with the physical challenge of it, with the riding and running and hunting. Loki liked a more intellectual challenge, a riddle to uncover, a secret to unveil. And, he had no doubt, so did Freyja Sigurdsdottir. Sif was the one who liked to get blood all over her leather armour. The stains would never wash out of Freyja's fine silks.

Why did she go to such lengths to charm Thor? If she wanted to be Queen, all it would take were a few choice words to the king. He'd make her Thor's wife in a heartbeat. Did she not know?

Or perhaps, a voice whispered inside him, she seeks the challenge.

"Are you looking forward to it then?" he smiled pleasantly as an idea formed in his head.

"Oh, very much. The prince and I have a lot in common, as you know. Hunting alongside him will be the crowning glory of my time here."

"It strikes me as odd, truly, that you insist on your lies when you already vowed to refuse Thor."

"I don't lie," she lied. "I am fond of your brother. Bold and brave and jovial, how could I not be? Yet, I am not worthy of him. He will never ask for my hand. It was an easy vow to make, therefore."

"Then why try? Why go hunting with him, why watch him fight, why feast with him?"

She looked honestly puzzled. "For the joy of his company, of course."

It would have served, Loki thought, after a moment of hesitation. It would have served had she not overdone it. She looked strangely innocent in her white nightgown with her hair down and tousled, hanging to her waist, her eyes dark from tiredness. It was almost believable then that she was as sweet as her words. But she had made a mistake.

"And why come to me? Why try to learn from me if Thor is all you care about?" He was sure she'd babble now, sure she'd lose her footing. This was a game he always won.

But Freyja took her time to answer. She sat down on her bed, looking at her hands. "He is not all I care about. I have often read the old books in my father's library. Magic fascinates me. I told you true, I wish to be able to protect myself like Sif."

The best lies were built around an undebatable truth. Loki knew that, Loki used that. And so did she. Loki knew she was lying, Loki knew she cared nothing for his brother, Loki knew she'd come here only to win his brother's favour. But as she recited her lies so calmly, so evenly, without the slightest hint of red in her cheeks or unease in her eyes, he started to doubt what he thought he knew. Had it been merely wishful thinking?

He would find out...on the morrow.

"I shall return at a more convenient time. I expect you to be well prepared then. Magic, as you call it, needs intense mental preparation. The books I gave you, from my own library, I could add, will help you prepare." Well, it might have been one or two books too many, just to test her, but all in her own best interest. "Tame your impatience, my lady, and heed my counsel if you truly wish to be able to defend yourself."

There was a mocking edge to his last words that told her Loki wasn't as easily fooled by her lies as his brother and father.

"You have my thanks, Prince Loki, for your admirable devotion to my studies."

He left with a mocking bow, so low that his hair fell into his face.

~o~

Freyja came out into the yard at dawn. The sun had not yet risen above the horizon but golden light bathed the yard and the rolling hills inland. Somewhere along that ragged line of peaks and vales, Sessrumnir stood, looming over villages and forests. Her father would be proud of her today. Despite her short night, she looked her best, garbed in fine forest green wool adorned with a border of cloth of gold. Autumn leaves swirled on her long coat, picked out in thread of gold and shining in the morning light and her hair sat in a net of gold and emerald, fastened to a small forest green riding hat. She felt well prepared for the day but as she stepped out of the blinding sunlight, not one, but two princes awaited her.

"Lady Freyja." Thor put a hand on her shoulder. "You're early."

She gave Thor a vague smile. She hadn't even listened. Why was the other one here?

Loki had dressed in forest green leather with dark brown boots, twin daggers at his slim hips and a bow slung over his shoulders. A long cloak of green wool streamed from his shoulders like a king's. His hair was dark as a moonless night and Thor next to him, with golden hair, the bright morning light reflecting off his polished armour, looked like the sun personified. How could they be brothers? Not even Sif and Freyja were that different.

"You look well-rested, my lady." Loki smiled at her.

"You are too kind, my prince," she purred. "I never knew you'd come along as well."

Thor slapped his brother's shoulder. "Nor did I. But we're glad for it."

"Oh," Freyja gave the second prince a warm smile, "we certainly are."

He was here for the hunt, alright. But Loki had not set his mind on a hart or a deer. His eyes followed her as she climbed her horse, aided by the stableboy. He would hunt her, mercilessly, only because he could. Only because he was bored. There was no one in Asgard who posed a threat to her mission, not even the queen. No one but Loki. He loved secrets and forbidden things, of course he'd be after her. She couldn't lie better than she did. He sensed lies like no one else could, perhaps because he lied so well himself. He surely knew that she would try to find a way around her binding promise to him once he'd given her what she needed. He surely knew she'd try to betray him. But, Freyja was starting to realise with growing dismay, for all the times Loki had tricked and betrayed and lied, no one had ever managed to trick him.

There is a first for everything.

Thor was in high spirits, galloping away with Sif and Volstagg, leaving Freyja behind with Loki, Fandral and Hogun.

"We'll be back," he shouted over his shoulder. "Meet us at the clearing. Where we used to play, Loki, you know the place."

Yes. Loki knew the place.

Freyja felt her smile sour as she watched his cloak disappear behind the trees. She had given him too much, it seemed. Or perhaps, there was simply no way to catch thunder and lightning. It would come and light up the sky, and then it would go again, flighty and volatile as the weather.

"Do not take it to heart, my lady," Loki said lightly. "My brother has never been a particularly persistent man."

"He will come back soon," Fandarl said, spurring his horse. "He always does. He's only scouting. It's better with a small party. Less noise."

"Indeed. My brother is known for his subtlety."

Freyja bit away a smile and looked the other way. Right as he was, she would not show him any sign of fraternisation.

"Why are you her, I wonder. You've never liked the ride nor the hunt."

"You wound me, Fandral. I've always liked the hunt." He looked at Freyja, whose gaze had drifted back to him, unbidden. "And of course I couldn't resist when I heard Lady Freyja would ride with you. My brother admires her so, I had to know why."

"For her grace and beauty," Fandral said, always courteous, always flattering. "For her wit and kindness."

"Oh, for that most of all, I'm certain."

Loki threw her a furtive sideway glance. She looked spectacular in green. He had always thought red a good colour on her but the green brought out the yellow in her hair and made it shine. In the bright morning light that seeped through the leafy canopy, her eyes looked more blue than grey, a subtle shade, like a morning sky on a cold day. It suited her better, he thought.

"It is painfully obvious," Loki said, loudly enough for Fandral and Hogun to hear, "but you are especially beautiful today, my lady."

She eyed him suspiciously but didn't dare to give an openly hostile reply in Fandral and Hogan's hearing. "You are too kind."

"Oh, not too kind, certainly. Just kind."

She almost snorted. "Yes. That is the very first word that came to my mind, too."

"Where is this clearing, Loki?" Fandral turned around in his saddle. "There's only trees."

"Well, that is only common for a forest, Fandral. The clearing lies that way. There's a small brook running through it, you really cannot miss it."

"You used to play there as children?" Freyja asked. Something was off about him. He was smiling a little too widely.

"Yes. Days spent by the water, catching tadpoles, trying to hold our breath underwater. Blissful."

It didn't seem like him to use that word.

~o~

The clearing lay eastwar, far away from the castle in a vale under the great mountain range with freshwater rivers and green meadows.

The clearing was small but shielded and a brook flowed through it. She gazed at the narrow band of water. "Is this where you tried to hold your breath underwater then?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "It seems much smaller now than it did in my memory. But then again, I used to think my father a giant, and now I am half a head taller."

Loki had led them astray, she realised then. Thor would not find them in the clearing he had meant. She could tell Fandral and Hogun, who were watering the horses. But she didn't. There was still much of the day left and this way, she'd escape the discomfort of the hunt without having to offend Thor. Quite the contrary: he would be the one that had left her in his brother's care all day. He would feel guilty and there was always something to be won from a guilty conscience.

"Indeed." She smiled back at him. "And your brother half a head taller still."

Freyja wondered whether Loki had suspected she would make this decision but thought it too far-fetched. Not even he could know that much. He must have thought she wouldn't notice and she wouldn't have, had he not given away that little detail.

"Well, while we wait for my brother, we might as well make ourselves comfortable."

Fandral and Hogun returned. "We'll ride a little upstream. There's trout in the river this brook flows from and where there's trout, there are bears."

"Suit yourselves," Loki said. "I'll take good care of Lady Freyja."

Fandral and Hogun never noticed the subtle edge to his voice or perhaps, they were too eager to hunt to care.

"Here, I think." With one fluid motion, Loki had unfastened his cloak and swung it from his shoulders. They were broad enough, Freyja thought. He only looked too lean and narrow next to Thor.

He draped the cloak on the mossy ground at the root of an ancient sweetapple tree.

"Your forest throne, my lady. My brother might still be away but you shall want for nothing else."

Freyja had almost forgotten about Thor, so much had Loki diverted her. She knew what he was up to, of course. She had considered showing him the cold shoulder but giving in, only a little, wouldn't necessarily be to her disadvantage. Thor would think twice about leaving her behind next time.

"Do you think it is kind?" she asked as she seated herself, "To charm me when your brother was the one to ask me here in the first place?" Of course, said brother was nowhere to be found now so her question wasn't warranted, but she wanted to hear his reply all the same. Would he give himself away?

He looked down upon her, still standing. Freyja ran her eye over him furtively. His riding leathers fit tightly. She looked away, then up to his face. He seemed to study her, too.

"Why, my lady, all is fair in love and war."

I know what this is. A war between brothers, and she no more than a chicken two foxes would haggle over. Only that Loki had no interest in her. He did this for the sole reason of wounding his brother. What kind of man would do such a monstrous thing? She was glad for Sif then. Her sister could be insensitive and blunt, but she'd never wittingly hurt her like that.

"From what I've heard, you know little of both."

"Then you've heard what I've told people." He picked a golden apple from the tree. Their smell was heavy in the air around them, sweet but tangy, with the underlying sharpness of fermenting cider. Freyja rested her head against the tree, stroking the soft wool of Loki's cloak underneath her. She smelled sap.

"And why would you do that?"

"I don't need to tell you it is better to be underestimated. It's always better to take a foe unaware."

"And a lover, too?"

"That is rape, I heard," he said as he picked another apple, ripping it forcefully from the tree. "And generally frowned upon."

"Forbidden and punishable by death." The laws of Asgard were stricter than they had been once, thankfully.

"Rightly so." Loki sat down on his cloak cross-legged, a foot or two away from her. "Sometimes, you surprise me, Lady Freyja. Don't you know best the advantage of feigned ignorance?"

"I do not know what you mean." She smiled her best wicked smile for him and he returned it.

"Just as I said."

Loki drew a dagger from his belt. Instinctively, Freyja pressed her back to the tree. It was a subtle movement, but he saw it all the same and laughed.

"You know I am more refined than that, I hope."

Loki flashed her a grin while he plunged his dagger into one apple. He cut almost without looking, the juice running down his fingers.

"Sometimes I wonder," she gave back but received no reply.

He pointed the dagger at her then, a slice of apple speared on it. "The best time to pick these. Ripe but still tart. I cannot abide the cloying sweetness of overripe apples."

Freyja took the slice from the dagger delicately and nibbled at it. "You don't look like you do."

He smiled at that. "I never had my brother's thirst."

"But you're hungrier than him."

Loki offered her another slice, then popped one into his own mouth and chewed.

"So are you," he said after a pause.

"Famished," she admitted with a rueful smile. "I had a late night visitor and no time for breakfast this morning."

Loki wiped his danger on the moss and sheathed it at his hip, then he licked the dried apple juice off his left hand like a cat.

"How rude of your guest." The green of his riding leathers brought out the colour of his eyes.

"I wouldn't call him a guest, exactly. Guests are usually invited."

He laughed at that. She couldn't recall ever hearing him laugh properly, out of amusement not mockery. "Well, one could argue an invitation was heavily implied."

"Oh yes, one could argue, no doubt. I feel that is all he does."

"There's much to be said for a proper argument." He leaned back, balancing his upper body on his hands. "Nothing like it to keep your mind sharp. Call yourself my whetstone, if you will." There was truly no limit to his arrogance but she had to laugh despite herself.

"You honour me beyond my wildest dreams."

"And what wild dreams are that, Lady Freyja? Because I'm having some trouble trying to unravel you."

"Save yourself the trouble, my prince, and accept that there are secrets you will never uncover." There was of course no safer way to entice him and Freyja knew that, too. But the words were out ere she could weigh them.

Loki shifted and leaned forward, towards her. "You know I will not give up." He got to his feet gracefully and picked up the wineskin he'd thrown aside carelessly early. His eyes never left hers as he took a long swallow. With a wicked smile, red as sin, he added: "And we both know you'd be sorely disappointed if I did."

He stoppered the wineskin and knelt down opposite her, offering her his drink. Their fingers touched as she took it but this time, she wasn't wearing gloves.

"Your fingers are cold."

"You really miss nothing, do you?" He sank back onto his cloak and watched her drink.

"Better than mead, don't you think?"

And more potent, too.

But Freyja didn't drink heavily. After two small sips, she closed the winesink again and laid it aside. "Much better. Are you aware that your kindness raises my suspicions?"

"Very. I like to keep you on your toes, Freyja Sigurdsdottir. If you pay attention, you can learn much more from me than illusion casting."

"I've often wondered...how much practise does it take to reach this level of complacency?" Freyja stretched out her legs so that her feet rested next to him and Loki's gaze darted to her ankles, only for the fracture of a heartbeat.

"It depends. An hour or two for me, but a non-professional should take more time."

"Oh. I think your two hours are up."

"For your sake, I might exceed my time frame today."

"Your kindness is as boundless as the universe."

His fingers brushed over the bare skin above her riding boots as he repositioned his hand, briefly, softly, as if by accident. Loki watched her hold her breath. Perhaps she was as innocent as she claimed in that respect. Not that it mattered to him, no, not at all.

"You are gifted with commendable perspicacity, my lady."

Loki had come out riding thinking that Thor's jealousy would lift his spirits. Although he had seen so very little of his brother so far, he was already exceptionally good-humoured today. And this day would only get better.

Fandral and Hogun appeared first, empty headed but sweaty. "Thor's not back yet?" Fandral asked, dismounting, but just as he asked, Thor's mighty stallion came galloping through the shrubs.

He reined in his horse and stared at his brother with a thunderous look in his eyes. Volstagg and Sif appeared behind him.

Thor had every reason to be annoyed. He had ridden through this forest north to south, east to west, trying to find them and when he did, the woman whose affections he'd thought to be his was sitting in the shade of a large tree with his brother, taking slices of sweetapple from the point of his dagger and laughing at his japes.

"Loki," he called out. The carcass of a deer was slung over the back of his saddle and Thor and Sif were splattered with blood. Freyja hoped thoroughly that Thor's enthusiasm for hunting had vaned a little with this kill.

"Yes, brother." He grinned up at him lazily. "What is it?"

"I want to talk." A less direct man would have wrapped this in an excuse.

Slowly, he got to his feet and walked over to Thor, aware that Freyja's eyes were following him.

"What is it?"

"This is not the clearing I meant."

"It is not?" Loki lied effortlessly. "But we did play here, occasionally."

"We play on the clearing by the freshwater lake, close to the shore."

"Oh dear," he sounded rather sympathetic, "did you ride all the way to the shore? That is the complete opposite direction. No wonder the sun has risen so high."

"I wanted to meet you there. It would have been a short ride away from the hunting grounds. We could have feasted on roasted venison there but this one here is only good for salt meat now."

Loki managed to look contrite. "I have misunderstood. My apologies, truly. Riding through the forest with that bleeding beast behind you...how many wolves came after you?"

"Only one pack." Thor's eyes narrowed. "What are you plotting?"

He turned his head to look at Freyja, who was feigning disinterest rather believably.

"It wasn't a misunderstanding, was it? You led your group in the opposite direction to keep us apart. And for what? For her? Do you want her? If so, then tell me now, Loki. No woman should ever come between us."

Thor truly didn't care for her. Or not more than for him, at least.

Loki's face was pure indifference as he shrugged. "Her? No, truly. I have no interest in Lady Freyja. You can have her."

Freyja was no woman a man could have but Thor was no man for subtleties.

"And why is that?" Thor eyed him suspiciously. Loki never yielded anything to him willingly.

"Too vulgar. Too loud. You know I prefer subtlety to boasting."

Thor seemed confused now. "Freyja never boasts."

"You understand me well enough, brother. She likes to hunt and to ride and to drink. She's not for me. She's perfect for you."

Last night, in her chambers, it had come to him. Their pact only meant something if Thor would ask her to marry him. She would only have to hold up her end of the bargain if Thor's affection for her was strong enough. So he had played on his brother's weakness and he was winning, he could see it already. Loki would do what he could to even their race for the crown, but there was another reason: He would share his secrets with her, or some of them. He would waste his time teaching her. And that would not be for nothing.

"She is." Thor, who'd been willing to yield her up a moment ago, agreed. "But she's always gone. I drink with her, then share a cup of wine with a friend, turn around, and suddenly, she sits someplace else. I walk with her, speak with Fandral or Sif or Helga, and when I go back into the garden, she's gone. Even today. I was only out scouting and I come back to her sharing your cloak."

Loki resisted the urge to hit his brother with the flat of the axe that dangled from his saddle. He couldn't truly be that thick. "I was under the impression," he said slowly, "that Lady Freyja is not the kind of woman you turn your back on."

He watched her rise over Thor's shoulder, saw how she brushed leaves off her gown, how she picked up his cloak and shook it out, then folded it over her arm. Neatly. Orderly. She had to be, with such a mind. Keeping track of all her tales.

Thor gazed thoughtfully into the opposite direction. "Might be you're right." Then he slapped his brother's shoulder. "What about you? If not her, then another, perhaps? Did you find a woman with a taste for sorcery?"

Freyja lifted her face to the trees above her as a gust of wind whirled through the clearing, tugging at her green skirts and her golden hair.

"Yes," he said, not taking his eyes off her. "I have."

"Truly?" Thor was taken aback. "Well, who is she? Do I know her?"

"No, I don't think you do."

"You must show me your lady then."

She was making her way over to the horses, her riding hat slightly askew on her head. As if she had noticed, she felt for it blindly and straightened it at once, his cloak hanging over her shoulder. Its green was a perfect match for her gown.

"Oh, she isn't mine." Loki gave his brother a lopsided smile. "You know I'm notoriously unlucky on that front."

Thor laughed. "You always pick the wrong ones, that's why. You remember that warrior in Vanaheim? Long black hair, never smiling? Or the singer? He was bad, even for you."

He had been half a boy back then but nothing would ever cloud that memory. The singer had made a fool out of him for all to see. But something else had stung worse. Did Thor not remember that it had been his laugh that had haunted Loki for years? Apparently not. His brother had a short memory.

"I remember. It's not like that this time. I promise."