This takes place, like, the day after the last scene, so same age and everything. I was listening to Perfect by Simple Plan near the end if you notice, so you'll get it if you see/hear the lyrics. Enjoy!
"Damn," I whisper to myself.
I sit under one of the trees down in the Training area behind the palace, overseeing Thor's practice slightly. Okay, I wasn't watching at all and learning about offense like I should be. No, I was reading a book that I was thoroughly enjoy until that giant of a brother totally punched his opponent too hard and made blood fly. And, of course, my being right there made me perfectly in the way of the discarded blood, the red liquid splattering on my fingers and legs. I could see the poor victim now, standing aside holding his gushing broken nose and freaking out about it not stopping. Thor looks at and shrugs.
Sighing, I put down the leatherbound book and cross over the wounded man. On my way, I hold out my long fingers and wipe the blood on Thor's red cape, figuring he couldn't possibly mind a little prize for his violence. I tell the man to stay still and then snap the bone in place, saying a minor incantation to stop the flow of blood. Honestly, these men need to face the blood rationally. I roll my eyes.
"Thanks," the warrior says to me as I start walking away.
"Yeah, fuck you," I murmur, stalking past Thor.
Why am I out here again? Oh yeah! That document of mine I worked so hard on came across as incorrect so Father said I have to spend more time in combat than in the library. I hope he doesn't actually believe I'm going to willingly learn how to fight. Why would I need to? I know a fair deck of spells and they seem to always come in handy when I'm trying to escape a beating from Thor.
"Come on, Loki, you next," Thor calls. Are you fucking kidding me?
"No, thank you, Brother, I just ate," I decline.
"Ah, yes, Loki. Three hours after eating is certainly too soon for excerising! No, seriously, come here," Thor says. Sighing in exasperation, he walks to me and grabs hold of my shirt collar, pulling me up onto my feet. The last opponent just left.
"No magic this time, Brother. Just brute strength," Thor tells me, getting into position. I stand across from him.
He counts off and then charges at me and I slip aside just before he can touch me. This all reminds me of those games the mortals hold in which the try to defeat a bull by dodging it unless it is tired out. Maybe I can get a hold of Thor's red cape just to make it official...
While I laugh softly to myself, Thor runs up to me, and I dodge once more. Finally he just comes and towers over me, not attacking, just standing there like he's trying to figure out what I am before he strikes. My eyes wide in fear of his sheer size, I slowly back up, my hands protectively in front of me. An apologetic look on his face, the Golden Prince lifts a fist and strikes me hard in my jaw, knocking me back several paces before I collapse under the strength. I sit up, slightly dizzy, and proceed to my feet, not wanting to back down yet. It's far too soon.
Thor stares at me, disbelieving that I have bothered to try again, when usually I just complain about my being wounded and then slip out of the area. But I want to feel the pain. I want to personify my deep hurt from Father's rejection in this. We are acting out that scene physically in my mind, Thor being Father, and that is not hard to imagine. I purse my lips and tighten my fingers into a fist, my anger flooding back into my veins.
How can I forget the nights I have spent crying in bed instead of sleeping? How many times I have looked at Thor seated beside Father while I must sit with the others? I cannot erase the memories of how Father has always given Thor so many wonderful gifts, while I recieve only some thin book on how to be good at fighting, things that I was give to Thor in the end. I recognise my place, in the background, letting this anger build in me.
Now glaring harshly at Thor, I raise my hands and run at the confused soul, screaming in fury. I jump so as to reach his height, my hands pressed palm out to his shoulders, as I use all of my force to knock him backwards. I may not be as strong as him, but I am not weak, and I certainly got him by surprise. When has little Loki ever fought back? Never, and it's time I start to.
Thor falls back, caught unaware and totally distracted by my sudden fury to notice I was actually attacking him. I land on his chest, my knees drawn up so that I am above him, in perfect position to wring his neck out and kill him. But I know to stop here.
Panting heavily, I sit back, but then Thor reacts! He grabs me by the collar again and throws me off him with raw force! I am airborn for a few minutes and then crash against the cement, sliding back several more feet. I can feel my ribs crack and break, hear my skull resonate a sickening sound as it connects with the hard ground, and I can definitely sense that my body is starting to bruise in several places. Ouch!
"Loki!" Mother calls, rushing out from the shadows to kneel down beside me.
Odin has accompanied her, so I get the all so great pleasure of having to stare up at his mocking blue eyes. Thor runs up to me as Mother pulls me onto her lap, calling for the servants to get me to the Healing Room.
"I am sorry, Brother, I just didn't expect it would be you to attack me. I didn't mean it," Thor apologizes. He walks at Mother's side as the servants carry me to the Healing Room, but my vision is already fading and soon I slip out of consciousness. There was nothing much to say anyway.
I try to sit up but cringe immediately. Eir, the Healing Goddess, places a gentle hand on my ribs and eases me back. Thor, slumped over in slumber beside me, jerks awake at Eir's telling me to relax. Usually Thor is a heavy sleeper, waking up only after great effort from the intruder, so I am shocked that he has snapped awake so easily. He must have been waiting for me.
"Loki, you musn't put too much stress on your body right now," Eir tells me, more sternly than I assume she meant to.
"What all has been broken, Lady Eir?" I ask, lifting a hand to carefully prod at my ribs.
"Well, you certainly have some ribs broken and cracked, your skull certainly got damage, and your left ankle is broken," Eir tells me.
"Oh, great. How much time will it take to heal of this?" I ask, sighing in frustration. "And did someone grab my book?"
"It will take at least a week before you are able to walk," the goddess answers. I throw my head back in exasperation. At least I get to be in my own room.
"Loki, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," Thor starts.
"My book, damn it! Where is it?" I ask again.
"Why do you need a book? No, look, come on, Loki, can you forgive me for this?" he waves off.
"Shut up, Thor. I know you didn't mean it. Just get the book I had when we were outside," I order.
"But you haven't forgiven me," Thor whimpers. Yggdrasil that boy is foolish.
"Thor, get my book," I say montonously. I'll just wait it out until he listens.
"Brother!" he whines.
"Thor, shut up! You have nothing to be sorry about. Now get my book!" I yell at him, sitting up. I wince slightly at the pain but I otherwise ignore the pain. "It's Father's fault that I got hurt."
"Really? Please elaborate, Loki," Father asks of me from the door.
"Because you made me go out there and fight! I didn't want to, I told you that! Come on, Father, I'm not as strong as Thor!" I shout at him, absolutely ready to jump out of bed even though my chest hurts so much that I can't understand why I haven't blacked out yet.
"It was for your own good," Father answers, nonchalantly.
"My own good? Yes, Father, fighting Thor only to wound up bed, hurt, for nothing. I don't learn anything when we do these fights. I know how to survive with magic, you need to put faith in that because that's the only area I'm good at," I shoot at him.
"You need to learn how to fight physically. You are disgracing me by not knowing how to fight, son," he responds, bluntly.
"Well, I'm sorry I can't be what you want me to be and a disgrace besides. I'm sorry I can't be perfect," I whisper.
Tears burning in my green eyes, I do get to my feet, ignoring my sore ribs and wounded ankle. My head down, I limp to the door, squeezing past Father. I quickly put a spell of invisibility on myself and continue, trying to keep as quiet as can but finding it difficult considering I practically I have to drag one leg.
"Loki! Get back here, you will only damage yourself even more!" Eir calls after me.
"I don't care," I respond, not really minding that she now knows what direction I'm heading in.
"And if one of your ribs comes loose again and hurts you internally? Loki, you do not get the severity of your wounds!"
"Then if I die it will be a good thing according to my father," I throw back at her.
Her voice is silent then and I bother not to turn back, I keep going. Slowly, I finally make it outside, back to the Training area where I left my book. I walk past many fighting warriors in the bright morning sun, but cloaked in my spells, no one notices me. It is a relief when I fall against the tree that I was leaning against when I was last here. My book still sits here, unnoticed by illiterate fools. I prod at my ribs again, whispering spells to keep together my fragile bones, mending them. It hurts.
I can't understand why Father said anything to me. Why does he bother? I am so obviously not his favourite! And how does Thor not notice this? He cannot be that innocent, but I suppose he could be that thick. What a fool.
I pick up my book, for if I am to be in my exile for now, I might as well do something I enjoy than be miserable. There is no point in me watching the warriors, I know the weak spots, I just don't care to engage. What would be the point?
And it's not like I didn't know I was a disgrace. I did know. But I was not blessed with strength like Thor, I was blessed with cleverness and wisdom. I thought Father treasured those things! I thought I was doing right. I thought he could at least be happy for me about that. Apparently not.
"Brother?" a voice calls. How did he find me? Then again, I was complaining about my book the whole time he sat there next to me.
"Loki isn't here, Thor. You should know that. He's too fragile to be outside," Sif mocks, passing Thor by.
He shrugs and glances around anyway. Losing focus, I accidentally let the invisibility spell slip and am suddenly spotted by my elder brother. He runs over to me, grinning that he has won this little game of hide-and-seek. I sigh, putting down my book.
"Found my book, finally," I smirk.
"Brother, you cannot be out here. You heard what Lady Eir said!" Thor scolds me, kneeling down next to me.
"I cannot go back to face Father. He has cost me enough sadness for one day."
"Yeah, that was pretty harsh of him," Thor agrees, nodding solemnly. "I'm sorry about that."
"It's not your fault that I'm unsatisfactory in strength," I shrug, looking down.
"But you're great in all that other stuff. I mean, I need Mjollnir to do anything in that skill, and Father needs Gungnir. You're the only one in this family that is talented in something so complex or can sneak himself out so fairly. Only you have been able to fix most of the stuff I damage and all the scholars are amazed. I just happen to be stronger than some of the other Aesir, and I think that is because of Mjollnir," Thor assures me.
"Thank you, Brother," I say.
"May I ask, though, why you never even try in physical feats?" Thor asks me.
"Look at me, Brother. One knock down and I have to stay in bed for a week. My body was born uncapable of fighting heavily. That's why I have to use magic," I explain sadly, grimacing.
"That's why you use magic? I just thought you were unimpressed by physical fighting."
"Please, I don't think sword fighting is that bad, but I have little chance at a lot of physical stuff. Magic is the one thing I excel in."
"I wander why. I mean, Mother and Father are both capable of fighting."
"Maybe I get it from some forgotten uncle," I smile.
"I don't know, Uncle Vili and Uncle Ve seem pretty strong to me," Thor responds.
"Shut up, Thor," I say, deadpan.
"Loki! There you are!" Lady Eir shouts, hands on hips. "Teleport yourself back to your room right now!"
I chuckle softly at her anger. With one look at Thor, I whisper the words and disappear into my room. No one is there, and smiling to myself and pick up a book, my mind racing with what tricks I can start pulling once I get back on my feet.
So, if you haven't noticed: Odin-bad to Loki; Frigga-comforting;Loki-misunderstood and sad;Thor-the lost puppy who makes Loki feel better. Basically, I follow that format considering that's how I saw the movie. Sorry if this sounds overwhelmingly like the last chapter.