A/N~ Once again I'm posting at an ungodly hour, but here's chapter three. Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I was feeling slightly disconnected with this story and wasn't sure whether to continue it or not, but your comments were a huge confidence boost. They helped me decide that I am going to carry on with this story for now as long as I feel that my writing is hitting a better standard. I didn't feel that it was in chapters one and two, but I feel marginally more pleased with this one.

Since it's late I haven't proof read it all the way through (terrible, I know) but your reviews were so positive and enthusiastic that I really wanted to give you the chapter tonight and not make you wait any longer (even if it may be at the expense of a few errors). It involves Thor and Loki bonding and some Loki whump, so enjoy reading and please leave another review - they were just so lovely last time and I really like hearing your thoughts.

Chapter Three – Unexpected Obstacles

The first day was ruled by the excitement of swimming and rowing, with the Americans beginning to emerge victorious in the pool.

On the second day these sports continued, but it was also time for the dressage. Loki fiddled nervously with the buckles of his boots, then adjusted his riding hat before moving to secure his horse's bridle.

Sleipnir nuzzled the side of his face gently, making his hat slip sideways so it sat at a comical angle.

"Stop that." Loki chastised before rubbing the animal's nose.

Sleipnir had the uncanny ability to sense whatever he was feeling, even though they had only been paired as rider and horse for two years. Right now he was feeling uncharacteristic nerves.

At twenty three this was his first Olympic games. He had competed at the World Championships last year, but Sleipnir had not quite reached adulthood and the journey had spooked him. They had finished ninth.

Loki rearranged his hat, strapping it on tighter this time. He idly wondered where Thor was and whether he would feel such nerves, then mentally rebuked himself for making the comparison to his brother.

Thor had a natural confidence that flowed into everything he did. His endless enthusiasm aided this. Loki had tried not to feel jealous of this trait over the last few years. He did sometimes wonder how they could be related so closely, and yet be so different.

The green-eyed man did take some pleasure in the fact that while Thor had more medals to speak of than he, his sport was all muscular force. It lacked finesse. Dressage was much more of a fine art. It required intelligence and much skill, as well as a close relationship with the horse. With that in mind, he stood a little taller as he finished the preparations.

The sound of footsteps rounding the corner made him look up. There stood Thor in his team outfit. He held a small, proud smile on his face.

"I came to find you to wish you good luck brother. How are you feeling?"

"Rather good actually." Loki lied. "Don't you have training?"

"I took an hour off. I thought I might watch, if you consent?"

"I suppose you would be good support."

Thor chuckled. "You do not need my support, even though you will always have it. You have the support of the whole crowd! Nearly all are British."

Loki looked surprised for a moment but did not say anything. He felt somewhat guilty for his previous thoughts about his brother. Thor moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Do not feel nervous. You have expectations on your shoulders but they will not crush you. I have faith that you will do well. That, combined with your own belief and the faith of the nation should hold you up." He stepped back and regarded Loki warmly. "Good luck today, brother."

With that he walked out of the stall, leaving the younger man with the feeling that he had just witnessed the kindest wisdom anyone had could have given him.

~A~

Loki rode out fourth into the arena to the deafening kind of applause he wasn't used to. The adoration secretly thrilled him. It also filled him with belief. He settled Sleipnir into position and they began the intricate dance of horse and master.

He finished to even more thunderous applause, knowing that he had perhaps only done the routine better once before in training.

As he guided the grey horse to face each side of the stand to wave he caught sight of his brother in the front row. Thor's applause was more rapturous than anyone's. They shared a look that left Loki feeling intensely proud as he rode to the edge of the perimeter to wait for his score.

When it flashed up he allowed himself a small, genuine grin. It was good, very good in fact. After all twenty seven riders in the men's category had completed their dressage it placed him third.

He returned to the locker rooms whilst contemplating his position. He had set himself up perfectly for cross country in two days' time. The women's individual dressage was scheduled for tomorrow, so he could take Sleipnir to the practice grounds for some light training.

The two riders ahead of him were the senior Frenchman Jean-Pierre, who had won gold at the last two Olympics, and the young Czech, whom he had become friends with at the World Championships. The Frenchman was definitely one to watch, but the two German riders lingering in sixth and seventh place were not to be underestimated.

Cross country was probably the easiest of the three disciplines that made up horse riding, for Loki at least. Show jumping was the section where even the best riders could come undone. He had seen competitors drop from first to tenth place solely through a bad round of show jumping. He would have to make sure the same thing didn't happen to him.

As he unlocked the locker containing his belongings he contemplated what his coach had said in the final training session before the games.

If you hit each gate right your show jumping could destroy the competition.

Loki sceptically wondered if that had just been said to give him confidence. He took off his riding jacket and folded it before placing it in his bag and putting his gloves next to his hat.

So occupied was he by his thoughts that he didn't hear two steps of footsteps approach behind him. Suddenly he was roughly elbowed backwards into a set of lockers. The sharp edge of an open door grazed his shoulder.

The two Swedish competitors stood imposingly before him. They were the same height as him, but not as slight. Currently they lay in fourth and fifth position.

"Impressive dressage today Loki Odinson." The taller of the two said in broken English before he had time to demand what they were doing.

"Very." The other added, his accent much softer. "You didn't ride like that at the World Championships."

The heels of his riding boots clicked as he paced in an almost predatory manner. Loki realised he was facing the fiercely competitive Eriksen brothers.

"I wasn't nearly as well trained or experienced back then." He said carefully but with a touch of defiance.

"Perhaps it's more than that." The pacing brother suggested.

"I don't know what you fools are daring to suggest-" He retorted surging forward angrily, only to be cut off abruptly by a hand grabbing him by the throat. He was pulled away from the lockers before being swiftly slammed back into the wall next to them.

"Watch your tone." The bulkier of the two snapped. Loki promptly sized them up and decided that the one pacing was clearly the brains – if attacking a fellow competitor could be called intelligent. Which would make the one pressing down on his windpipe the brawn.

The former stopped pacing and fixed him with a calculating look.

"I was merely suggesting that you seem to have improved rapidly in such a short spell of time. One might even think too rapidly."

"True," The second brother joined in, "and your horse is an interesting one. What kind of a name is Sleipnir? And who rides a grey horse in an Olympic competition?"

"It's of Norse origin," Loki returned snippily, "and far more original than the other average names." He could see their expressions darkening, and yet still couldn't help but twist the proverbial knife in. "As for the colour, only someone who was worried about it being more noticeable and more talented than theirs would possibly comment on it."

He felt satisfaction flood his mind as the words left his silver tongue, but grimly noted that he may have gone too far when the larger brother instantly tightened his grip on Loki's neck.

Panic began to make his skin tingle as the Swede lifted him slowly upwards until his feet barely met the floor.

"Mind your tongue." The smaller of the two hissed slowly. The lack of air may have made him read too much into it, but Loki could have sworn there was a hint of bloodlust in his tone.

As his vision started to turn grey and clouded, he dully heard the brother he had marked as 'intelligent' speak to the other.

"Greger, that's enough. Put him down."

"Fredrik…"

"Now," The blonde added when his brother did not immediately comply, and the unrestrained hostility in his voice was enough to make Greger thrust Loki into another line of lockers.

The Brit immediately gasped, breathing raggedly from his crumpled position on the floor. His sight had only just begun to clear when one of the two grabbed his hair and wrenched his head backwards so that he was forced to look at them both towering over him.

"I suggest," Fredrik purred, "that you don't get too comfortable in your position near the top. Don't give yourself too much of a lead…or there could be consequences."

"This is illegal," Loki gasped, "I can report you-"

"Oh you don't want to do that." Fredrik cut him off quietly; his voice dangerously smooth. Greger's grip on his hair tightened making him wince involuntarily.

"You don't want to do that at all."

"I don't care what you do to me-" Loki snarled struggling slightly as he regained some of his fight, only to be interrupted again.

"Who said it would be you receiving the consequences? You wouldn't want to report us to the committee and then find that your brother had met with a sudden, unfortunate accident."

Loki froze at the mention of Thor.

"In fact, I don't think you'd want to tell anyone about this…discussion we've had. Your brother's hammer throw isn't going to be very impressive if he can't use his right arm. Just think on that next time your horse makes a jump, Loki Odinson."

With a final twist of his hair they were gone; leaving him slumped against the lockers, his throat burning. It took him a few minutes to regain his breath and several more before he gingerly pushed himself into a sitting position.

Loki had just found his way to his feet and was leaning against the wall when he heard footsteps approach.

He tensed, wondering if they were coming back to add to their list of threats. But it was neither Fredrik nor Greger that rounded the corner.

It was Thor.