Loki wakes with a dry throat and sand in his eyes. His limbs feel heavy and he can tell that he's been sleeping for a very long time.
He's curled on his side, head pillowed on Thor's arm (which he drooled on). When he raises his head sleepily, he sees that Thor is awake and watches the ceiling with the expression of a man facing a death sentence.
Loki would hate to become predictable.
He yawns and stretches, staying pressed to his brother's – or husband's really – warm side and then he rolls off with a light approving pat at Thor's bare chest.
"You do make an acceptable pillow," he croaks, voice still gritty with sleep. A few beats pass in silence as maybe Thor waits for him to start screaming accusations, but when he sees they are not forthcoming, he seems to find his voice.
"Are you feeling well?"
"Yes, quite. What time is it?"
"Mid-morning. You slept through the afternoon and whole night."
Loki checks his wrist, finding it healed and raises his hands above his head, stretching some more and groaning when he feels every muscle.
"Hmm, I can tell. And all the while you were faithfully with me, forgoing all your appointments for the sake of lazing about in bed."
"It didn't seem that long," Thor replies calmly. Something in his tone makes Loki suspicious.
"Did you sleep at all?"
"No."
"You are a sentimental fool."
"That has been long since established."
Things fall into a stalemate after this and in the passing weeks Loki often wonders if he's made a mistake, blunting his best weapon, as he spends long hours sitting alone, gazing down on Asgard or paging through books disinterestedly.
Thor is busy.
Loki hardly ever sees him during the day and when he comes in in the evenings, he goes to bed as soon as he can and sleeps like a stone.
This jars Loki for several reasons – first of all, he is bored. Secondly, it's the reason for Thor's tight schedule itself that bothers him – he's preparing to take the throne and Loki can't quench the bitterness that creeps up his throat when he imagines it.
This night is no different. The sun has set hours prior and Loki sits, staring into flames that crackle in the hearth and he sips wine, letting go every pretence of doing anything at all. Then he hears door click at the other end of the suite and he could slap himself for the twinge of excitement it brings him.
Thor arrives moments later, wishing Loki good evening and taking off his cape. His shoulders are slumped and his eyes shine dully.
"Sit with me?" Loki asks and his fist clenches under the table when he sees exasperation flash in Thor's expression before he smiles lightly.
"Of course."
Loki pours Thor wine and then props his head on a hand, watching him gulp it all down.
"A taxing day for the king-to-be I see."
Thor all but slams the goblet down.
"Yes," he growls and it sounds like a warning, which sits particularly badly with Loki.
"Would you maybe like me to draw you a bath and give you a massage, so that I can help you with this terrible burden?" he drawls sweetly. Thor looks at him for a second and then gets up, silent.
"Don't you dare ignore me," Loki calls after him, blood burning as weeks of idle frustration demand to be released.
Thor stops, but doesn't turn and he speaks facing away from Loki.
"You don't owe me anything, Loki, I know that, but I will not simply sit here and listen to your empty mockery."
"Empty mockery? Everything you own has been ever handed to you on a silver platter, the throne of Asgard included, so forgive me if I don't have any sympathy to offer when you find the task too much to handle."
Thor looks over his shoulder and Loki is a bit chilled by his expression – not for its intensity, but rather the lack of it. He doesn't fear Thor's anger, but this silent disdain makes him uncomfortable.
"I didn't ask for your sympathy. Or your company for that matter."
And then he is gone, slamming the doors behind him and leaving Loki staring after him with his mouth open.
When he collects himself, Loki realizes that there is only one possible response to this and that is what he does – grabs a cloak and leaves their chambers immediately. He stalks through the palace, fuming silently until he is calm enough to look around and try and decide where to go. Sadly, his options are limited (if he wants to keep some dignity, that is). In the end, he goes to the stables, saddles a horse while the stable boys watch him nervously and rides out of the city, heading deep into the woods. He slows when he is safely covered by the foliage and follows a wide trail in the star light, letting the horse go at its own pace so it won't spook in the darkness.
This woods aren't dangerous or deep, in fact, even in dark they are a lovely place, full of soothing sounds and smells. His anger trickles from him, but is replaced by nervous chagrin.
He's made a decision to stop punishing Thor and instead ensnare him deeper in the ridiculous affection of his, but his plans were hindered by something as simple as lack of time to spin them in. Now he feels empty-handed. Weaponless. Thor wasn't acting guilty nor affectionate.
He spends the whole day in the woods, lounging on a small clearing, stretched out on soft grass while the horse grazes on it. He wonders if someone will come fetch him and he tells himself that if anything, it's an interesting test of how much 'freedom' he truly has.
He works on the simple elemental magic that is available to him. Drops of dew dance in elaborate patterns under his fingers, he starts and quenches fires of all imaginable colours, teases small tornadoes from the soft winds. It would be soothing – he doesn't mind simplicity, in fact, with magic it's often the height of its beauty – but it serves to remind him of the more complicated tasks he cannot fulfill.
When the evening comes, he thinks he wouldn't say no to a decent meal, but only drinks from a stream nearby and munches on some berries, lying back down on the ground. He tries to maintain the air of someone who is resting serenely in the heart of nature, rather than someone who refuses to return to the only rooms (and bed) available to him.
"You are a much better companion than my husband," he tells the horse stubbornly.
In the morning, he rides back with his head held high as if his stomach wasn't protesting loudly and his clothing wasn't sodden with moisture and smudged with mud.
He's not terribly surprised to find Thor absent when he finally slips into their chambers. He busies himself with bathing and eating, but when the sun sets again and Thor still doesn't come, he grows angry and suspicious.
He feels cut off from the rest of the realm and he curses himself the fool for not trying to rebuild some of the bridges he burned. He cannot spend the rest of his life in no other but Thor's or his Mother's company.
In the morning he opens his eyes to find an empty room around him again. Thinking that surely a small walk through the palace couldn't hurt, he slips from the bedroom only to stop short at the doorstep.
Thor is sitting at a table, dressed in riding clothes and looking like he hasn't slept for days. He jumps up when Loki enters and gives a small nod of his head.
"Loki."
"Thor," Loki cocks his head. "What are you doing?"
"I returned during the night and didn't want to wake you," Thor says. His posture seems a bit too straight, making him seem awkward. Loki looks him carefully over and then makes to leave. Thor rushes to him, almost grabbing him.
"Please, I... I wanted to apologize."
And maybe Loki should have been expecting that, but he wasn't.
"I was very tired and angry about things that do not concern you. It was unfair to take it out on you."
Loki squints his eyes at Thor, who is standing like a scolded child. "Have you been practising that?"
"Yes," Thor says with an apologetic smile. "That doesn't make it any less true."
Loki is at loss of words for a moment – he cannot swallow that slight (especially considering that it drove him out in the way it did) easily, but he also wants to take this opportunity to get back on track with his plots. Thor solves it for him. He merely waits for a few seconds for the answer that isn't coming before turning to the table he has been sitting at and picking up a rather large pouch that Loki didn't pay attention to.
"I brought you something."
He slips the object out of the bag and it's a tome bound in leather with intricate metal bindings. Loki immediately perks up. Thor gives it to him and Loki studies it carefully. It's very old and heavy and he has trouble reading the inscriptions that run across its surface.
"And here," Thor adds, handing him a peculiarly shaped golden token. "It's supposed to be the key to open the book and access all of its magic."
Loki forces himself to leave proper examination of the tome for later. He can already tell that it's rare and valuable and he knows he will spend many fruitful hours reading it, but for now, he must focus on Thor.
"Where did you get it?"
"I fought and bargained for it on Vanaheim."
"And what, pray tell, were you doing on Vanaheim?"
"It seemed like a good choice of a place to search for something to your liking."
Loki lets himself think about this for a moment.
"So you went to Vanaheim for no other reason than a wild goose chase for a gift for me."
"Exactly."
And Thor still looks sheepish, but also somewhat pleased with himself.
"And now I'm supposed to just magically forget the way you treat me."
Thor's pleased expression falls away and he hangs his head. "No. But it seemed to me that my apologizes were wearing thin. I thought more than words might be needed."
Loki glares at him for a while longer and then sighs, walking away to place the tome carefully on a nearby desk.
"In that at least, I cannot fault your reasoning."
Thor's eyes follow him with a disgustingly sincere look in them.
"Loki, I really am sorry. What I said to you was appalling and most untrue."
"Fine. Don't you have somewhere to be? I will examine the book to see if it's any good."
Thor smiles and Loki rolls his eyes because he knows that Thor can see right through him. It is a good gift.
Thor merely cleans up and changes clothes and then heads off to face his duties (with no sleep, Loki notes), going as far as squeezing Loki's shoulder lightly in goodbye. Loki doesn't even raise his head from where he's poring over the book.
A knock rouses him several hours later and he yanks the door open with a frown, not at all pleased to be disturbed. It's a page who bows quickly.
"My lord, may I ask if you wish to make arrangements with the tailor?"
"For what?"
"The Queen's birthday celebration."
Loki pinches the bridge of his nose. "Of course. He may come tomorrow morning."
"As you wish, my lord."
Loki closes the door and leans against it, fighting a smile and feeling like putting his face into his hands at the same time. This is his Mother's way of subtly reminding him of the event. He completely forgot and she knew it. Same probably goes for Thor, though at least he talks to people. Loki toys with the idea of not reminding him, but ultimately discards it.
Thor staggers back in in the evening and Loki is already in bed, ruffling through some notes he made from his study of Thor's gift. Thor flops onto the bed and Loki pinches him as soon as he closes his eyes.
"Before you fall asleep, I wanted to remind you that it's Mother's birthday soon."
Thor's eyes snap open and he looks up at Loki. "Oh Hel. Thank you."
He settles back to sleep but as Loki keeps reading, he can see that his breathing isn't slowing and soon enough, Thor is looking at him again, raising himself up on one elbow.
"Will you be alright? It will be our first... appearance together."
"I'm not going to spoil Mother's party with a scene."
"That's not what I was asking."
Loki rubs the palm of his hand on his face, sighing. "Yes, Thor, I will stomach whatever horrors my new situation brings me among the good people of Asgard."
Thor overlooks this comment.
The feast in Queen's honour isn't held in the main dining hall, but rather a smaller, but much cosier set of rooms. The decorations are stunning – fabrics and flowers in warm colours cover every surface and tiny lights dot the ceilings, casting pleasant glow. The long tables that usually grace every feast are replaced with more intimate, round ones.
Loki could kiss Frigga when he finds out she shipped Odin off to another table and surrounded herself with her sons and a couple of her ladies only.
At least until the ladies start talking to him.
He is rather contentedly tasting honey roasted goose, half listening to Thor and Mother talk, when Aerndis puts her hand on his arm and smiles.
"You look well."
"Thank you, my lady," he says, a little confused. His memories of her consist mostly of her strict scowl when he and Thor were running carelessly close to the spinning frame she was using.
She pats him lightly.
"Marital life will do that to you."
Then she has to pat his back because he chokes on his goose.
"There, there, no need to be flustered. I'm just an old lady, happy to see some young love."
"My lady Aerndis, you do recall that up until recently I called Thor my brother?"
She waves her hand as if that was but a speck floating in the air. "The Norns know best."
And that's all she says, but the conversation – overheard by most of the table – shifts the focus onto him and soon Loki is under onslaught of comments and questions that he can barely stomach. He tries, for his Mother's sake, but his patience is rapidly disappearing.
"I think chosen marriages are delightful," lady Gynna giggles. "You have to really try. It brings out the best in people. When my father chose my husband-"
His Mother's warm palm covers gently his fist in which he is squeezing a fork with enough force to break it.
"I think it's time for music. Will you and Thor dance?"
She doesn't quite wait for his reply and beckons to the musicians who ready their instruments and the space between the tables rapidly fills with eager dancers. Then Thor's offered palm appears in his line of vision.
"Please?"
He just bites the inside of his cheek and takes Thor's hand. As he is getting up, his eyes fly up to Thor's face and he almost jerks back when he is met with a warm, grateful look. The intensity of it startles him. Thor looks as if his dreams were coming true and Loki is reminded of the night a few weeks ago, how Thor shuddered when Loki let him close.
Thor puts one hand on Loki's waist and the other on his shoulder, deviating from the correct posture.
Not holding me as though I am a woman, Loki thinks. He seems to value his life.
Loki mirrors the hold and they end up in a slightly odd, but workable tangle and start spinning with the other couples.
Thor is beaming.
"You could at least try to be subtle," Loki murmurs when the steps take them close.
"Are you bothered?"
"You are the one who has something to hide."
"Not in this."
Thor's hands are warm and he knows he is flushed from the movement and the temperature of the room. Still, there is something to be said for the rhythm he finds himself in and he slips closer to Thor, bettering their posture. His legs follow the steps thoughtlessly in perfect tandem with Thor.
"You look beautiful," Thor blurts out and his grip on Loki tightens for a moment. Loki guesses it's because he regrets his words.
"Aren't you the perfect spouse," Loki shakes his head, but his tone stays light.
Thor chuckles humourlessly. "I wish I was."
"Oh well, if it's of any consequence to you, it seem that at least the rest of Asgard seems to think you are. I am apparently blushing with marital bliss."
And he is just teasing, he means no harm really by these words, he just reflects all the ridiculous dotting he had to endure at the table and he is half focused on his feet as to not stumble but when he glances at Thor, he sees a horrified, heart-broken expression on his face and he can feel Thor's momentum slowing.
"It's not right-" Thor gasps and he stops moving altogether.
"Thor," Loki hisses, infuriated. "Dance. This is Mother's celebration, don't you dare ruin it with your useless brooding."
And to that at least Thor listens and they start spinning again before too many people notice their nervous interlude, but the drive seems to have gone out of Thor and Loki is exasperated. He didn't even mean for that to happen.
And he doesn't really have a good explanation for this, or a plan in mind, he just knows that he refuses to put up with Thor's moods if he didn't cause them on purpose.
When the steps allow it, he slips even closer into Thor's arms until they are pressed flush together. He half expects Thor to pull back, but if anything, he seems grateful.
"Will you ever tell me what you really feel?" he whispers after some moments.
"I have been far more honest with you than you deserve," Loki tells him smoothly.
"You are not afraid of me," Thor says and it's not a question.
"And you seek absolution in that? I am no coward."
"Have you forgiven me?"
And Loki cannot answer this, he cannot.
"You have no right to ask me that," he hisses.
"Then tell me what to do," Thor urges, desperation lacing his words.
"Just stop this. Stop. Not here and not now."
A quick glance to the side tells him that their altercation has not gone unnoticed. There are eyes following them and while he is more or less certain that nobody could really hear them over the music, he knows that this story will be twisted beyond recognition by the morning.
"Let's go back and sit with Mother," Loki prompts. Thor doesn't protest, but he keeps holding Loki's arm as they dodge the merry party-goers and take their seats.
Frigga is smiling widely.
"You danced beautifully," she tells them.
"Thank you," they chime in unison and her smile only grows wider.
"I bet they've had practise," comes a drunken giggle from the other side of the table. Lady Gynna is snickering into her goblet. Loki picks up his own and Thor seems to find that wise as well.
They drink deeply, throats parched with the exertion and nerves. Frigga still seems happy, but Loki notices a searching expression in her gaze.
Soon after, she looks around the room, which is stuffed and noisy. The celebration is in full swing.
"Boys, will you please escort me to my chambers?"
"Already?" Thor smiles.
"Yes, quite, I think no one's entertainment will be hindered by my departure."
Loki looks around the drunk guests and silently agrees. That's Asgard's way.
They all rise and she takes their arms, so they walk each at her side.
"Are you well?" she asks and it's clear she means if they are well together.
Loki knows Thor won't answer, not after being scolded as he was.
He sighs. "Yes. Thor is an idiot, as usual, but it's manageable."
A small laugh escapes her, but then she turns to Loki with a mock-strict expression. "Loki. Watch your language."
"I'm afraid it's quite justifiable, Mother," Thor laughs and he and Loki exchange a smirk over Frigga's head.
Loki is struck with how familiar that was. This is his brother and mother he is walking with, sharing banter that hasn't changed in a thousand years. And it could be disturbing, yes, but it is merely soothing.
They bid their Mother farewell and head for their chambers. Loki hooks his arm into Thor's.
"Like old times, yes?"
"I miss them greatly."
"So do I."
And Thor almost stops, his head whipping to the side to stare at Loki. Loki looks stubbornly forward. There is only so much he's willing to give away.
He lets go of Thor as soon as they're in and heads straight toward a pitcher of wine.
"Have you found anything of interest in the book I gave you?" Thor asks, accepting a goblet.
"Yes. It would be even better if the knowledge was of any use to me."
Thor doesn't respond and steps closer to Loki. Neither of them has sit down. Loki leans against the back of a chair that stands by the fireplace, feeling the warmth spread against his back.
"Did you mean that?"
And it's annoying that Thor is so vague, but Loki understands what he means and decides to comply.
"Does it surprise you? Why would I not miss what I had when now I have nothing?"
"On Midgard, you said-"
"I know what I said, Thor. And I meant that also. But still. You were my brother. It wasn't perfect, but it was preferable to this."
"I am your brother. I always will be."
And Thor is a stubborn fool of course, but Loki still smiles.
"Come on then, brother. The marital bed awaits us."