Ice-green sparks hovered precariously between Loki's fingers, pulsing fitfully. His brows furrowed as he set his tongue between his teeth. The tips of his fingers twitched in rhythm with the pulse, the lights pooling together and swelling larger with each beat. Leaning forward unconsciously, he slowly rolled the ball between his palms forming it into a perfect sphere of cool light that floated just above his pale hand. His eyes stretched in wonder as he observed the final burs of magic weaving in upon themselves.

"Brother!"

The door slammed open, jarring Loki's concentration. The sphere fragmented into a thousand biting shards. Loki wrung his hand, shoving magic-burnt fingers in his mouth.

"Where have you been hiding all day?" asked Thor as he strode into the room.

Fingers still in his mouth, Loki glanced about his chambers. "It can hardly be called hiding if I'm in my own rooms. If you needed me wouldn't this be the first place to look?" He sighed, he didn't know why he bothered, Thor clearly wasn't listening. What's worse, Thor had that look in his eyes—the look that said he'd had an idea. The time was that Loki would have followed Thor anywhere without question, but hundreds of years of misadventures were starting to drive home the point that Thor rarely thought things through—and really, at least one of them should.

His brother flopped onto the floor in front of Loki. His clothing was suspiciously mundane, no flush of scarlet or the velvet threads of his regular princely attire. "The beast has been sighted on the shining plains."

"And who would have told you that?" asked Loki. He frowned as he read the discomfort in Thor's face. "Brother. Fandral, really? Why do you waste your time on his taletelling?"

"You're one to talk," groused Thor as he crossed his arms.

Loki threw out his hands in exasperation, "I didn't think you'd actually believe me. I mean, Thor, who would think that a fairy would actually grant you a wish if you managed to catch one?"

"Well, you still owe me. That's why you're going to help," said Thor.

"Help with what?" he asked warily.

Thor was grinning again. "We're going to catch the beast and present it to Father." Thor leapt to his feet, swelling his chest. "Imagine how proud he'll be when I present the beast in shackles." He grabbed Loki around the shoulder with one arm and gestured sweepingly with the other. "The Sons of Odin, think how we'll look. Conquering heroes of Asgard!"

Loki glanced sideways at his brother. "What I think is that Father wouldn't like this."

Thor laughed. "What do you care about rules? Besides, we can't do this without you."

"We?"

"The Warriors Three will be accompanying us on this great quest," Thor beamed. "They've experience taming wild beasts."

Loki snorted, "Imaginary ones."

"You're so…so…" Thor stumbled looking for the word.

"Pessimistic?" he supplied helpfully.

Jabbing his finger in Loki's chest, Thor nodded. "It's all books and magic with you anymore. It's like you don't like being on the training field or going on adventures."

Probably because I'm not good at it, thought Loki. It was becoming increasingly obvious that he was not as naturally gifted in the weapons department as Thor. He preferred to train alone to minimize the number of those who could witness his failures. Strategy came more easily to him and he'd always excelled in his lessons where Thor easily became bored. Thor's strategy was mostly to charge at whatever was in his way and smash at it until it wasn't in his way anymore. It seemed to work for him. Loki smiled to himself, and he'd be there with another plan when Thor finally met a problem he couldn't simply pummel into submission.

"Loki!"

He shook himself out of his thoughts and turned a sheepish smile toward his brother.

"You're not listening."

"Sorry. What were you saying," he said meekly.

Thor scrunched up his face in annoyance.

Loki only had a moment of dawning comprehension of what the playful spark in his brother's eyes meant before Thor launched himself across the space between them. The boys crashed together into a struggling pile of arms and legs. It was all Loki could do to roll mostly out of the way, using Thor's momentum against him. He didn't get fully free before Thor had hooked him around the legs and was trying to get a firm grip so he could pin him down. The boys tumbled across the floor, grunting and gasping as they each struggled to come out on top. Once Thor got a grip there wasn't much Loki could do. Straddling Loki's chest, Thor drove his knees into the ground and pinned his brother's wrists.

"Now will you listen?" asked Thor with a grin.

Loki rolled his eyes, "You have my undivided attention."

"The only way this will work is if you can magic us to the Shining Plains without attracting attention. When we're there, then we corner the beast and bring it down." Thor released Loki's hands and sat back on his stomach. "The songs they'll sing in our honor!"

Thor's excitement was contagious. "About the mighty Princes of Asgard!"

"Nothing can stand before them."

The boys grinned at one another as Thor scrambled off and offered Loki his hand. They clasped forearms and Thor hauled him to his feet.

"The beast awaits!" Thor pumped his fist in the air.

"Wait, now?"

"Who knows how long he'll remain so near the palace?" asked Thor. "We go now."

Biting his lip, Loki ran his thumb along the back of his other hand. "This magic will take time, Thor. I can't just snap my fingers and have us there. There are preparations…"

Thor grabbed Loki by the shoulders and made him look at him. "You've been doing magic since before you could lift a sword."

"I've never taken anyone with me before!"

"It's easy, just you plus one more. You can make multiple trips."

Fighting the urge to sigh, Loki just looked at Thor. "I only make it look easy. One of you could wind up inside out."

Thor laughed. "There you go again with the pessimism. We can do this, little brother."

Loki tried to frown, but couldn't hide the involuntary smile. Thor never got tired of reminding him that he was the elder. "When I have to explain to mother why her eldest son is suddenly missing a limb, I'll at least try to be optimistic about it."

"Loki, enough! Let's go!" He latched onto Loki's wrist and drug him from the room. With a wave of his free hand, Loki conjured clothes less likely to get ruined by a giant stampeding horse and with another flick of his wrist closed the door behind them.

The self-styled "Warriors Three" were waiting for them by the stables. The boys had a few, but vital, years on the young princes. Volstagg, the oldest, already sported a sparse red beard, and Fandral and Hogan were each at least a head taller than they were. And yet they seemed to enjoy the young princes' company. Well, Thor's company at least. Loki hadn't failed to notice that his magic seemed to make them nervous. He wasn't sure if it was the magic in general or his proficiency at such an early age that bothered them.

"Ah, our ticket to fame and glory arrives," said Fandral, sweeping to his feet. He beamed at them. "Just think how the ladies will swoon when we tell of our heroic quest and the taming of the mighty beast!" He flexed his arms and puffed out his chest dramatically.

Loki had to press his lips together against the laughter bubbling up. Fandral had a penchant for the dramatic that amused him.

"What do girls matter," said Thor, his face twisted in disgust.

"Give it a few decades my lord and you will think differently," said Volstagg. Tugging at his beard, he heaved himself off a bale of straw. As usual, Hogan said nothing. For years Loki had thought him a mute.

"Did you bring the supplies?" asked Thor.

Grinning, Fandral pulled a mysteriously bulging bag from beneath the straw. "Everything necessary to subdue a giant horse. Ropes strong enough to hold a bilgesnipe, hobbles, and lassoes."

"And how are you planning to catch this horse?" wondered Loki. This wasn't a plan—it was a disaster waiting to happen. Even if they were to snare the beast, how would they keep it? Asgardian youth were strong, but against a beast of Jotunheim? What were they going to do—run alongside it and hope to somehow outpace the creature? "Have any of you even thought this through?"

Thor's hand clapped onto his back. "Don't worry so much, Loki. All will be well. You just need to get us there."

"We're all going to die horrible, horrible deaths," muttered Loki. He was somewhat surprised to see Hogun give a small nod of agreement.

"We'd best get a move on before the Watcher turns his gaze this way," said Fandral, unwilling to name the guardian of the Bifrost for fear of attracting his attention.

Biting his lip, Loki surveyed the group. He wanted to take Thor first to make sure he didn't spend too much energy on the others—but then if the first trip went wrong, he had to admit he'd rather it weren't his brother. After a few swift calculations, he decided on their order. Best to take the largest first. He nodded to Volstagg.

The older boy joined him away from the others in an empty stall. "Are you sure you can do this, my lord?"

Loki looked up sharply, but the retort on his lips died away as he saw the knowing concern on Volstagg's face. Apparently his unease hadn't been as well concealed as he thought. Being the oldest, Volstagg often managed a touch more prudence than the others—though he bowed more and more to Thor's wishes even when Loki could see his hesitance.

"There is no reason why I shouldn't," he said slowly.

"But?"

"It could go badly." He waved his hand vaguely. "Pain, screaming, death."

Volstagg pursed his lips together. "I see. Best not to let it happen then."

Loki couldn't help but grin at the boy's optimistic confidence. He reached out and clasped Volstagg's arms, took a deep breath, and let the magic boil up out of him. In his mind he saw the Shining Plain. It was just a matter of taking the leap from where he stood to where he wished to be. And with a sharp twist of power he felt the sun on his back and grass beneath his boots.

"Well done," said Volstagg, though he looked a touch pale.

"Did all of you get here?" asked Loki as he ran a quick eye over his companion.

"It might not have hurt to leave a few pounds behind," he said, patting his belly.

"Now for the others."

Loki stepped back into his magic, finding it easy to fall through the still brittle tear between places. The rest of his companions travelled through in quick succession. Fandral handled it least well, panicking at the lurch from the stables to the fields. For an instant, Loki thought he was going to lose his grip on him—as it was, Fandral had a matched set of nail prints from where the prince latched on. Thor came last, breaking into a laugh as he burst into the grass and sunshine.

"Not bad for a magic trick?" asked Loki, hands on his knees as he took a few shuddering breaths. They'd have to catch the beast or walk back to the city—he didn't have it in him to get everyone back.

"See! It was easy!" said Thor with a broad smile.

Loki dropped into the grass. "Which of us just carried four people through the fabric of the world?" Why couldn't Thor grasp that though he was a natural, magic wasn't "easy." "Feel free to be impressed at any time."

"What will be impressive is catching the beast," said Thor. He reached down a hand to help Loki up. His brother swatted it away, mild irritation creeping into the gesture.

"Go find the beast first. I'll catch up when there's actual work to be done." He propped himself up on his elbows.

Thor frowned. "You are going to sit idly while we do all the work?"

Loki wanted to yell that what he'd just done was work enough. Instead he quirked a grin, "I wouldn't call searching for a giant horse work. Honestly, Thor, I'd question your tracking skills if even you can't find something that large in such an open space."

Something like disappointment flashed across Thor's face, before he quickly buried it. Frustration replaced it. Why was Loki being so difficult all of a sudden? They always did everything together and now it was like Loki didn't want anything to do with him and was digging in his heels at everything Thor said. What was wrong with him? "Stop being such a girl."

Loki's smile hardened, "oh, I wouldn't let that new trainee hear you say it like an insult—what was her name—ah, yes, Sif." Thor's flinch was visible. "Wouldn't want a repeat of last week would you? And with naught but a quarter stave." He clucked and shook his head, "for shame."

Hogan's hand latched around Thor's forearm as the young prince stepped toward his brother. "We do not have the time."

"Hogan's right," said Fandral, twirling a stalk of grass idly between his fingers. "No telling how long until old you-know-who turns that golden gaze this way and the whole adventure is up."

For an instant Thor eyed Hogan's hand as if he planned to teach the young man not to touch a prince. Shrugging it off, he grunted and turned his back on Loki. "Fine. Stay there if it suites you. What do I care."

The others fell in line behind Thor, wading through the lush green stalks. Volstagg offered a nod of the head and a smile. All he received from the others were their retreating backs. Fandral's voice floated back to him. "It's not as if it was unexpected, my lord. It's what Loki does. Don't expect too much from a sneak like him."

A flare of anger snaked through him. If Fandral thought he was a sneak, who was Loki to argue. It seemed the young warrior would need to learn exactly how devious the younger prince could be. And if Loki played his cards correctly Fandral would bring all that was to come completely upon himself.

With thoughts of mischief shrieking through his skull, Loki lay back in the long grass, tucking his arms behind his head. High above, the sun burned brightly. If Loki closed his eyes and concentrated he could just make out the shadowed limbs of the world tree holding up the arch of the sky and dangling the sun in its place. Thor never saw it. He pulled a chunk of grass and threw it. Who cared what Thor could see.

As the sun crept across the sky, he felt his magic calming and strength beginning to return. The fear that the others had already caught the stallion and left him behind sent him to his feet. Scanning the gently rolling hills, there was no sign of anyone else. Splaying his fingers, Loki whispered a quick spell and waited for the soft gleam of fading footprints to appear. This spell could track anyone that had been through an area recently, but it wasn't nearly as effective as a blood trace spell. He'd tried it before, using his blood to find Thor's, but he'd never managed to get it to work.

Breaking into a light jog, Loki followed the prints into the hills. Falling between two hills a broad, flat section of the plain opened up before him. Dark, four-legged shapes milled idly across it, and at the far end a much larger shape stood. The Jotun-horse.

Thor's footsteps led slightly away from the creature, puzzling Loki. Were they trying to flank it? Or had Thor somehow managed to miss the giant horse entirely. It wouldn't surprise Loki, Thor missed equally obvious things every day.

Well, even if Thor hadn't found the beast, he had. He started across the plain again, giving the milling horses wide berth. They would stop their grazing and lift their heads to stare. Large ears swiveled to catch the sound of his passing. Some gave the ground an impatient stamp. Most ignored him.

One horse stood strangely apart from the others. Suddenly, the mare shrilled in anxiety, dancing in tight circles and tossing her head. Snorting, she suddenly gave a sharp downward plunge. Hooves thrummed against the ground. A cry trumpeted through the air, urging Loki forward. He paused as he caught sight of what lay beneath the mare's blood flecked hooves—a foal.

"Get away!" he shouted, breaking into a run and waving his arms. The mare ignored him, rearing back again and pawing at the quivering mass. "Go!" He called a shard of magic to his hands and flung it crackling across the field. The mare leapt aside with a startled whinny. She galloped a few strides away before hesitating. Casting a last look at Loki, she darted away.

As the long grass fell away, Loki was better able to see the foal. The small gray bundle was still damp. He edged closer, unsure if it was even breathing after the trampling. Red gashes marred the slimy hide, running in little red streams across the face and sides. Loki swallowed, afraid what he would see upon closer inspection. Suddenly the little flanks swelled with breath and the whole body convulsed. Eight spindle-limbs splayed in all directions as the little foal unfolded itself. The strangeness pulled Loki up short. Eight. How could there be eight legs? Courageously, the foal lifted its head, turning large eyes on the figure crouched in front of it before flopping back into the grass. Its legs twitched again.

The whole foal looked somehow—unfinished. Everything about it was delicate and spindle-thin, angles pushing taut, barely furred skin over bones not fully thickened. It had only a bristle of mane and no tail to speak of.

"It's okay, hold still," Loki said as he ran forward, dropping to his knees before the foal. "You've come a bit early." He tentatively reached out his hand, touching it to the foal's side. Beneath the slender slide of muscle and brittle cage of bone, Loki felt the strong pulse of a heart surging with life. "You just need a chance—whatever you are," said Loki as he stroked the damp forehead. A muffled whinny escaped as the foal tried to roll onto its feet again. Its extra limbs just wouldn't let it.

Placing two fingers to the worst of the wounds, Loki concentrated all of his magics into knitting the gashes back together. Thankfully they weren't deep, and this was something Loki was adept at. It lessened his visits to the healers and kept Thor from seeing how easily he could be hurt.

The little thing lolled its head back, clearly searching for its mother. A painful image of Frigga's fading back suddenly flashed before Loki's eyes. He shook his head to clear away the frostbitten plane of his nightmares. A great sense of loneliness had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember. Though the dream varied, one thing was always the same, the ice and blowing wind and snow, so bitter they'd started to tinge his hands blue.

"Don't worry, little one." Loki rubbed circles down the foal's nose. "I won't abandon you." He stooped to gather up the horse into his arms. The foal was no bigger than a hound, but Loki could still barely manage to gather up all the dangling limbs. His hands slipped over the foal's mucus coated hide. "Whoa, you're slippery," he muttered as he caught the sliding horse. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You can count on me…" he smiled as a name came to him, "Sleipnir."

Now that he had the foal in his arms, Loki realized he wasn't entirely sure what he planned to do. He'd merely acted when he saw the foal's danger. It was instinct. Now, in the space of a few heartbeats he had committed himself to caring for the little thing and knew he planned to raise it. The specifics still eluded him, however. Whatever was he going to do with a premature, orphaned eight-legged horse? Raise it in his bedroom? He glanced down at the creature in his arms and realized that was exactly what he was going to do. He chuckled. And he had no idea how. It was all very Thor-like. Diving in and just figuring it out as you went, hoping for the best.

"Well, little one. How do you propose we get you home?" he asked, having to shift his grip as one of the legs escaped the bundle of the rest. Loki's magic still wasn't where it needed to be to manipulate the worldfabric. Perhaps he could transform into a Hunta-beast and carry the foal like a kitten in his mouth. Foolishness. The foal would panic and everyone was sure to notice a fifteen-foot tall, red-furred creature of quills and teeth carrying an eightlegged foal to the younger prince's room. There would be talk.

There really was only one option and Loki knew he wouldn't like the outcome. Clutching Sleipnir to him, he reached for the worldfabric and threw himself through. It wasn't a long jump, but this time it felt like long nailed fingers were clutching at him as he slid between places. They tore at his face and hair, scrabbling to catch hold of his tunic as they tumbled toward the pinprick that was his bedroom. Things from between howled, streaming past his ears. His room grew ever clearer.

A sudden searing pain jolted up his ankle as something yanked him backwards. Thrashing, Loki's magic crackled fitfully around him. There just wasn't enough. With a final lunge, he threw all his power at the often-used tear in his room. Hooks of magic sank into the tear's edges and yanked it to Loki. Gasping, he crashed through onto his floor, barely managing not to crush Sleipnir in the process.

"That went well," he wheezed, letting his arms flop out to his sides. The foal knickered at him, still splayed across his chest and stomach. Loki rolled his head from side to side. "I'll just lay here for a…a few hours." He let his eyes drift closed and dropped into a dreamless sleep.

Bright red light burned through his eyelids as the setting sun pierced one of the arched windows of his tower room. He groaned and willed the sun away. Feebly he snatched at the blissful numbness of unconsciousness. Each time he nearly caught it, something pulled at his collar. Something soft fumbled with the fabric, fine hairs tickling along his neck. Idly he pushed the annoyance away.

It returned, butting against his check. Cracking one eye, Loki's vision was filled with horse muzzle.

"I'm up," he mumbled, heaving himself into a sitting position. He shivered. The cool of his marble floors had soaked through his tunic. Rolling out his shoulders, he dug at his eyes. His magic coiled in irritation, hissing at him as he reached for its warmth. He'd overdone it.

The door suddenly flew back on its great hinges, thudding against the wall so that the collection of items on the shelves rattled. Sleipnir startled, tumbling over himself in a tangle of legs. Loki used words his mother would never have approved of—why hadn't he spelled the door against Thor?

"You abandoned us!" he said, striding into the room and still wearing the sweat of a long walk. He had yet to notice the foal.

"But you were going to tame the monster—you wouldn't have needed me to get you back," said Loki smoothly, noting the irritation on Thor's face. Clearly the horse had won out today or Thor would have been in a better mood—but Loki couldn't quite help pushing him. That and he wondered how long Thor could be kept from noticing something right in front of his face. Fairly long if previous experiences were any indication.

Kicking at an embroidered throw pillow, Thor growled. "If we'd actually had all five of us it would have worked."

"I had no idea I was so integral to your plan," he said as he pulled up one knee in front of him, the picture of innocence.

"Why do I even bother bringing you," Thor snapped. He turned to face Loki, really looking in his direction for the first time. "And…" the hand he'd raised dropped to his side.

Smiling placidly, Loki widened his eyes, "And?"

Sleipnir raised his head to look at the newcomer in the room, small nostrils flaring as he took in the new scent. Two legs splayed well behind him, another one bent as if ready to push him from the floor, and the others tucked somewhat awkwardly beneath him.

The thoughts clearly played across Thor's face as he first registered that there was a foal in Loki's bedroom and then counted, and re-counted, the number of limbs. As the sun dipped below the lip of the window, flames crackled to life in the sconces around the room. This seemed to break the loop Thor was stuck in.

"What is it?"

Loki laughed, "Why, a horse."

Thor scowled at him. "It has eight legs."

Grinning, Loki ran a hand down Sleipnir's back. "I had noticed that, yes."

Just as suddenly as it had come, Thor's confusion vanished into excited curiosity. He darted forward as if to touch the foal, only to have it startle at the movement. Thor paused, hand still outstretched. "May I touch it?"

"Sleipnir," said Loki. Thor looked confused again. "His name is Sleipnir. And yes, you may."

More slowly this time, he sank to his knees and reached out a hand, leaving it hovering before the colt. When Sleipnir struggled to stretch out and sniff his palm, Thor gently ran his hand up the grey nose. A smile broke across his face. "He is a marvel."

Sleipnir seemed to whinny in agreement and tried to push up on three of his legs. He fell panting onto his side, neck stretched out as his large head weighed him down.

Instead of growing, Thor's smile faded. Loki narrowed his eyes, he wasn't going to like where his brother's thoughts were headed.

"Father will never let you keep him," said Thor as he looked up.

"I'm not planning on keeping him," said Loki evenly. He leaned back against the windowsill, arms crossed over his chest. "He shall be a present for Father, the swiftest mount in the Nine Realms." His eyes dared Thor to say otherwise.

"He's deformed. With those legs he'll never walk, much less run. It would be cruel to let him live," said Thor slowly as he got to his feet.

"He's different. He only needs a chance to show what he's worth.".

Thor's hand came down on his shoulder. "This is what must be done, surely you can see that." His annoyance rose with Loki's refusal to see reason. He didn't know what was wrong with his brother, but it seemed like he needed to contradict everything Thor said or did recently. "He ought to be put down."

A snarl split Loki's features as he violently shrugged off the hand. He wasn't yelling, not yet, instead his words were ice cold and delivered through bared teeth. "And if the mighty Thor says it, it must be so."

Thor pulled himself up to his full height and pressed into Loki's space. "Why are you being so stubborn about this! It's just a horse!" Unlike Loki, it didn't take Thor long to start yelling when he lost his temper.

"You're not taking him," Loki said, suddenly smiling with a dangerous calm.

"I won't have to! Father will when I tell him of this!" said Thor as he made for the door. He jerked back as the doors slammed shut in front of him. He whirled as his brother lowered a hand from his spell casting. "Tricks again," he growled.

"You were happy enough of them earlier," taunted Loki.

Thor grabbed the curve of the door handle with both hands, straining against it. The door stood firm. He tried again, flinging his body backwards. "Open the door!"

Loki hummed and raised his eyes in thought. "No."

"Do it, Loki!"

He shrugged. Thor hated it when he did that, so it didn't really surprise him when the next thing he saw was a flash of movement as his brother launched across the room at him. It didn't surprise him, but it still hurt when Thor's shoulder clipped his side.

Spinning away, Loki managed to avoid the next wild swing completely, driving his fist into Thor's stomach as the older boy passed. There was a satisfying grunt of pain. Loki rarely landed such solid blows on Thor. He had little time to celebrate. Pain just made Thor angrier, and now he had lost the element of surprise.

A fist staggered him as he failed to dodge out of the way. Thor lunged, catching him around the waist and throwing them both to the ground. Breath rushing from his lungs, Loki managed to roll with Thor's momentum and heave his brother over his head and into a table. Wheezing, he struggled to his knees, only to have Thor grab him by the ankle, dragging him across the floor.

In a scrambling tangle of limbs, Thor fought to get a grip on the writhing form of his brother. Briefly he locked arms around him, but before he could tuck in his head, Loki threw himself backwards, ramming the back of his head into Thor's face. The older boy let go.

Sleipnir's scream startled the two as they crouched on the floor, breathing heavily.

Loki's lip was bleeding a bit and Thor's eyes were starting to black from where Loki had cracked his skull into his face. Thor shoved his brother away and sat propped against the dresser, breathing hard. Loki sprawled across from him, shoulders slumped. The only sound in the room was the harsh rasp of winded breathing. Neither boy made a move to renew the fight.

"Why can't you ever just trust me," said Loki quietly.

Thor frowned. "Why is this so important?"

Loki looked up, not sure if he was more surprised by the question or by the fact that Thor had bothered to ask it. He looked away. How could he explain that he needed to do this? That somehow if he saved Sleipnir he was saving himself—delivering himself from baseless fears and nightmares of abandonment and swirling snow. Thor wouldn't understand—he wasn't sure he did. What right had he to such fears? "I wish I knew." He slid over to where the foal watched them warily and laid his hand on the gray brow, smiling as he felt the small head pressing against his palm.

Suddenly Thor gave a disgruntled sigh and moved to sit on the foal's other side. He offered his fingertips to the colt, unable to keep from grinning as velvet lips tested his hand. "How exactly are we supposed to keep this a secret?"

Loki glanced up. "We?"

Thor nodded. "You were going to hide a horse in your room all by yourself?"

"That was the plan, yes," said Loki, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "The servants won't be a problem—not if I tell them I am working on another experiment."

Sleipnir flared his nostrils in a snort and settled his head in Thor's lap. The boy jerked slightly in surprise before bringing his hand to stroke along the small back. He smiled. "We'll need a nursing mare."

Cocking his head, Loki frowned. "You're helping me now?" He'd never get used to Thor's sudden turns of mood. Apparently you just had to knock him in the face to convince him of your sincerity and get his attention. He would have to remember that. "Why?"

"You're my brother."

Loki huffed and leaned his head back against his bed. "Why couldn't that have been enough before you smashed your knuckles into my face?"

His brother gave him a shrug and a grin.

The following weeks would show that Thor actually could be of some use—though his idea of stealth still made Loki cringe. As Loki predicted, the servants were more than happy to let the prince care for his chambers during the course of his "experiment." Grunhild had never been quite right after she got caught in the middle of the last one.

When Thor wondered how they were to muck out a bedroom-turned-stall without drawing attention, Loki merely wiggled his fingers and grinned. He loved magic. Even with Loki's penchant for stealth, the boys still had to smuggle in milk and straw enough for Sleipnir's bed. Thor did most of the heavy lifting and Loki did the necessary distracting and sweet talking. Nonetheless he thought his mother was getting suspicious that Thor suddenly seemed to have a near permanent piece of straw stuck in his hair or that both boys smelled a bit of stable. She kept her suspicions to herself however and merely watched them with a thoughtful gaze.

As the weeks passed, Loki delved into the archives, tearing through every book and scroll on horse care and particularly rehabilitation. He then moved on to medical scrolls, hoping to find some way to strengthen Sleipnir's particularly brittle looking limbs. Every few hours he would gently rub each leg to increase circulation and move it back and forth to help build muscle. He or Thor would try and support Sleipnir while the other lured him forward with a carrot or apple slice. Success was limited. Though Loki could see the colt begin to fill out to more healthy proportions, he wasn't really growing and could only balance upright for a few seconds before toppling over. Walking was nonexistent. Sleipnir just couldn't seem to figure out what to do with all his legs. Every time he tried to move he seemed to be in his own way, tripping into a tangled mess.

One day, as Loki returned from a trip to a brood mare in the royal stables, his mother stopped him. "Loki, dear, is everything well?" she asked him.

He offered his best smile, "Of course? Why would you ask that, Mother?" She frowned, and he was well aware that she was studying the dark smudges under his eyes.

"You seem tired is all. I don't want you overextending yourself—especially if you're working on a new spell." She folded her hands before her, rings sparkling in the light as she moved.

Loki latched onto the offered lie. "It is rather difficult, but I'm almost there. I can't wait to show it to you." He blinked in surprise as Frigga knelt in front of him.

"Ah, my little sorcerer. I would like that very much, but don't forget to rest or you won't have the energy to master this new spell." She reached up and brushed his hair back from his face. He pulled back a bit, muttering in embarrassment. Frigga merely laughed and darted in to plant a quick kiss on his forehead before standing.

"Very well, Mother. I won't over do it."

"Good." She turned away and moved down the hall, pausing before she turned the corner. "You know that if you need help," she paused significantly, "with the spell, you have only to ask."

He fought to keep the surprise from showing on his face. Somehow she knew—or at least suspected more was at work than mere spell practice. "Thank you, Mother. I'll keep that in mind."

She nodded and continued on her way. Loki breathed a sigh of relief. His mother was entirely too perceptive sometimes. He needed to do something about the dark circles under his eyes, but when you were up every three hours in the night to feed a foal, there wasn't much sleeping going on. One night he'd fallen asleep in the straw next to Sleipnir and woken up to find the foal cuddled up against him, nose burrowed into his chest.

Months passed and though Sleipnir began to gain some muscle and size, his legs would not support him. Loki could tell Thor's conviction was beginning to waver.

"What if he really wasn't meant to live, Loki?" Thor perched on the edge of the windowsill while Loki tried to order the colt's legs to help him stand. "Sometimes a mother bird will push an egg over the side of the nest because she can tell there is something wrong with it and it will never survive. Or a hound will abandon the runt of litter."

"I am not abandoning him!" snapped Loki. A shimmering, greenish cast crept up slender hocks like magical braces. Sleipnir took a few tettering steps before pitching forward. Thor caught him before he smashed his face into the gleaming floor. Together the brothers righted the foal and laid him back in the straw.

"It's all those extra legs," observed Thor.

Loki's head sunk into his hands. "I'm aware." His shoulders quivered as his hands tightened into fists.

Thor kicked at a piece of straw. "Are you crying?"
"No!" came the muffled answer, that sounded a bit thick.

Dropping heavily onto the bed, Thor gazed out the window, watching a barque flit across the sky, skimming between gleaming golden towers. His legs weren't quite long enough to put his feet flat on the floor, so he kicked the heels of his boots together. Beside him Loki didn't move or even tell him to stop fidgeting.

An idea suddenly bloomed across Thor's face. Smiling, he bumped his shoulder against his brother's. "If he can't figure out those legs of his, I bet you can."

For a moment Loki didn't say anything, merely stilled enough that Thor knew he had heard him. "How does that help anything?" he asked, still not looking up.

Thor shrugged. "You are the one with intelligence—or so you keep telling me—figure it out. Then we can teach him which leg to lift when and which to leave down."

Loki dropped one hand so he could peer up at Thor. Something unreadable passed behind his eyes, almost as if he were weighing Thor's words and mapping the possible outcomes. He smiled hesitantly. "That…that just might work."

"Don't sound so surprised." Thor crossed his arms but the teasing light in his eyes betrayed that there was no real anger there.

"You had a good idea—there is every reason to be surprised," said Loki calmly. He ducked as a pillow flew past his head. He wasn't quite quick enough to miss the barreling weight of his brother that followed it.

As it turned out, Thor had been on the right track. It took some weeks for Loki to study the way other horses moved and try to account for Sleipnir's extra legs. Trial and error followed, but with time Loki felt sure they would have his colt trotting just as well as any other.

Unfortunately they would not get the time they needed. Loki returned one evening to a guard barring the door to his rooms. The wide open door. The gold-cloaked Einherjar escorted Loki to the lesser throne room.

Except for the ever present guards, the throne room was nearly empty. His father did not sit on the throne, and Gungnir leaned against the wall. This was a good sign, thought Loki—this meant he was facing his father rather than the Allfather today. Thor didn't understand the difference yet, but Loki did. His father was different when he spoke to them as a king to his princes, rather than a father to sons. And Loki felt that he had seen less and less of his father and more and more and more of the King of Asgard. Thor just laughed when he said anything, so Loki didn't bother any more. A thought suddenly struck him—maybe because the difference was never directed at Thor.

"Loki." The soft words brought his attention back to where his father stood, hands gently clasped behind his back. "There is something you wish to tell me?"

"I don't think I need to," said Loki as he started across the expanse.

His father hummed gently in the back of his throat. "No, I suppose not." He gestured to one of the guards and they slipped from the room. "What I wish to hear is why you felt the need to hide this."

Loki chewed on his lip, but then stopped, suddenly hearing his mother's voice chiding him for such a bad habit. He shoved his nervousness down, schooling his features so that none of it showed. "I was afraid."

"Of?" asked Odin mildly.

"What you would say."
The king raised his eyebrows in surprise. "And so you would not even give me the chance to say it?"

By this point Loki had made it to the bottom of the stairs. He gazed unflinchingly up at his father. "He just needed a chance, and I knew you wouldn't believe I could fix him."

"Perhaps." He descended the stairs and grasped Loki's hand in his own. "But you will never know. Let us see what I say now." He gave the hand a gentle squeeze and released it just as the guard returned.

Loki felt his stomach drop out. The guard had Sleipnir.

Gently, the guard lowered the squirming foal to the ground, who offered a short whinny at the sight of Loki.

"A most unusual creature," said Odin as he ran an experienced eye over the colt. Loki cringed, feeling that his father's one-eyed stare could find every weakness and vulnerability, see every flaw.

Odin bent over the colt and stroked his grey muzzle. Large, calloused hands felt all along Sleipnir's splayed legs, feeling the shape and the tendons. Loki bit his lip as his father hoisted the foal to its feet, steadying it on its spider-legs. Odin slid his hand away. For a moment Sleipnir stood, wobbling. Then two of his back legs buckled, sending the others sliding out in all directions.

Loki rushed forward. "Let him try again."

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up into his father's sad gaze. "No, Loki."

"But…"

The other hand came to rest on Loki's shoulder. "This is not a kindness. He cannot run, he cannot walk, he cannot even stand. What life is that?"

Loki glanced away, only to have his chin turned back firmly.

"These are the decisions you must make, my son. To do what is right is often no easy thing—but you are a Prince of Asgard and must learn to make the hard choices even though your heart breaks."

Fighting tears he knew would win him no sympathy here, Loki pressed his lips together. "He can do it, Father, I know he can. I need more time."

"Time will only make it harder. Say your farewells," said Odin as he nodded at the guards in the doorway to come closer.

"No! You can't do this, he'll grow. I know he will. He'll be strong, just give him a chance!" He cursed himself inwardly for the wetness on his cheeks—at least Thor wasn't here to mock him for it. Loki tore away, placing himself between the guards and the colt who was snorting in confusion and fear.

"Enough!" barked Odin, he gripped Loki round the arm and pulled him away. He turned to one of the guards. "Take the young prince to his chambers—if he is to act as a child he will be treated as such."

The guard took hold of him and started dragging him away. Loki struggled vainly, twisting and writhing like an eel trying to slide through the man's grip, but it wasn't enough. "You can't, Father, you can't." Magic surged through him, though he had no spell to funnel it. "Please! He trusted me!"

Whinnying in distress, Sleipnir's hooves skittered across the polished floor as he struggled to get up. He bugled in his high, young voice.

Odin's face softened somewhat. "I am sorry, my son, but this is what must be." He motioned for the guard to take Loki away.

As the guard turned him from the scene, silent rage and despair flowed through him, not burning like he thought it ought to, but freezing in jagged tears of frost. Loki had never hated anyone before—but in that moment, he hated his father. The force of his emotions scared him. He had no control over them.

Startled by the violent impulse flowing through him, he didn't immediately realize that a strange sound had broken the bitter silence of the hall. A sliding, arrhythmic clatter. Before Loki could turn, a snort of warm breath brushed against his palm, followed by a velvet nose pressed into his hand.

Turning, he found Sleipnir standing uncertainly, shaking with the strain, but standing. The guard's grip fell away as Loki dropped to the ground, twining his arms around the foal's neck. "Good boy," he murmured. Defiance shone in his eyes as he looked up to see Odin still standing next to where Sleipnir had lain at the far end of the hall.

Odin inclined his head. "Perhaps he may yet become what you envision. But he still has far to go, Loki, and that responsibility is yours alone."

A/N: I simply adore getting to write little Thor and Loki. It's sometimes difficult to try and imagine what their personalities would have been like when they were younger and how they would have interacted since we just don't have a lot of canonical evidence. But boy are they fun! Most of my friends growing up were boys, and I also had some rather rambunctious male cousins that have definitely influenced my portrayal of young Thor and Loki's relationship.

Also, fun fact, that whole rolling backwards and tossing someone over your head move that Loki does to Thor? Yeah….I inadvertently did that to my brother once. He was messing around and knocked me down and then….physics occurred and he was sailing across the dojo. It was a thing of beauty. I only wish it had been on purpose.

Next Week: Loki's oath is put to the test and Thor finally gets some answers about those very old scars that he never knew his brother had.