Disclaimer: I don't own Thor, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Marvel and their respective creators. I only own any original characters that I choose to include, as well as any original plot ideas.
Chapter 18: Things That Cut
A/N: Apparently, there is no homework due tomorrow. The professor messed up.
They had played hard, ended up squabbling among the fruit trees, for Thor had tugged his brother from the branches before he could scramble up all the way, secure himself a perch from which to mock him. The elder prince was not fond of climbing. It had ended quickly, their game of chase, what with Loki howling at him to get up and off before he ended up swallowing a mouthful of dirt. Laughing, Thor had carried his complaining brother up to the palace on his back, the way he had when they'd been but boys.
Now, Loki sat at the table in the dining hall, head down and cheek resting upon its surface as he slept. Their mother sat in the chair beside him, leaning on her arms and smiling. Thor was always rather puzzled by that look, not knowing if the fond gleam in her eye was because they'd grown into fine young men, or because she was always reminded of their innocence as children. He smiled all the same as she turned to him, curious as to how she would react upon learning that, one of these days, they had spirited themselves away to roam the flames of Muspelheim.
Thor had said nothing of his decision, but had thought that the both of them would be content to go in only one another's company. To leave behind their friends and the tensions with them. Perhaps forcing the lot of them together, even when drunk, was not the best of ideas. Not only would it serve to further drive the wedge between them, but perhaps cause them to resent even him, as well. And if both parties were against him, there would be no chance for reconciliation.
The doors to the hall opened, Odin's one eye rather calm given that he and Loki had not gotten along well in weeks. He smiled at Thor, at Frigga, and looked increasingly disappointed upon seeing that Loki had fallen fast asleep. Perhaps he had meant to make amends, Thor thought. The Allfather approached the table with a swiftness that some would have thought impossible for a man of his years, and motioned for Thor to stand. The prince did so, but not before casting a questioning look at his mother, who, in turn, stared at Odin as if she meant to ask a question. Even so, she said nothing, and placed her hand over Loki's.
A gust of air moved quickly through the room, past Thor's face and causing his hair to fly forward. His father raised a hand, catching hold of the hand grip he had seen only a hundred times before. It was an ancient relic, one that Thor had always admired in the chamber when he'd visited through his youth. He had always longed to take hold of it, see if he could pull the weapon from the stone upon which it sat. But, each and every time he had tried, Mjolnir had gotten the better of him.
The thunderer breathed deeply, in shock as the hammer was offered to him. When he did not move to take it, believing this to be one of his brother's better tricks, Odin took hold of his hand, pressed the grip into his palm, and stepped back.
It felt warm, a feeling that shocked Thor to the bone. The hammer had sat in that cold and precious room for years, perhaps centuries, even longer than his lifetime had been. But here it was, held within his hand, feeling as though it had always been with him, an extension of himself.
"You have proven yourself time and again," Odin told him, pride brimming in his gaze, "and though you are reckless, headstrong, with responsibility, it is certain you will grow." Thor was at a loss for words, his father's hand upon his shoulder. "Mjolnir is yours."
Thor turned, startled out of his skin as Loki made a sound, that of a man waking from deep sleep, and scraped the legs of the chair against the floor as he shifted. The thunderer turned sharply around, catching sight of his brother's expression as he looked right past Thor and stared at the Allfather, and then at the hammer in Thor's hand. The prince didn't need to look back to know that Odin returned the gesture, and Thor could see the telltale spark of envy in his brother's eye even as Loki forced himself to smile at him.
It looked as though the war between the two was still to rage, and Thor, quite by mistake, had ended up caught in the middle.
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He had a headache, not just from being pulled out of a tree and sat on by his bear of a brother, but from anxiety and irritation. What exactly had Thor done to merit the use of a weapon like Mjolnir? His brother was careless, foolish, even a bit of an idiot, as Odin himself had acknowledged, and still Thor now carried the hammer at his side, as though the two of them had never been apart.
Loki scowled, reconciling himself to saying nothing as Thor stood surrounded by his friends, all offering their congratulations and making small talk of all the beasts he'd slay with such a companion. It would not do were he to be accused of being jealous, of wanting the damn thing himself. A hammer like Mjolnir wouldn't have suited him to begin with, nor would Loki have dared to carry the bulky thing about. What irked him was the fact that his father had gone and given it to Thor as though it had been nothing, whereas Loki himself would have been forced to earn something like Gungnir. It just didn't make any sense.
"What's the matter?" Fandral jabbed at him, giving Thor a heavy slap on the arm. "You haven't said a word in the whole of the hour. Jealous, are we?"
The trickster scowled, hit his lip to keep himself from sneering at the man, and folded his hands neatly beneath his chin.
"Before you decide to speak again, imagine, for a moment, what it might be like if, tomorrow, you awakened to find that pretty face of yours gone," Loki said, "replaced instead by that of a toad."
The warrior's eyes widened and turned his head slightly. "You wouldn't."
"Care to test that theory, Fandral?" the prince replied, looking to the others. "What of the rest of you? Perhaps you'd like to try my patience as well."
Hogun, as expected, wasn't perturbed in the slightest by the threat, and returned to speaking quietly to Thor, though the thunderer wasn't listening at all. Sif and Volstagg, however, didn't seem to take kindly to his words, looking as though they'd like nothing more than to drag Loki outside and drown him in the lake. Though, taking into consideration their individual stamina and tenacity, the Lady Sif was far more likely to try her hand at silencing him than any other.
"Slime," Loki swore he heard her murmur, and Thor dropped the hammer to the floor, the metal of its head echoing loudly through the room.
"Enough!" he bellowed, and the pillars seemed to shake, the ceiling threatening to cave in and bury them all beneath golden rubble.
At least, Loki thought, were they to be caught in a tomb made of the palace walls, it would be clean and well decorated.
"I have had enough of this!" Thor shouted, and stormed towards him, using one of the chairs as a step with which to get up on the table. Loki was appalled, stared and pursed his lips as Thor kicked the plate away from him, reached down and grabbed him by the collar. He refused to fight back, even detesting the way Thor sometimes treated him like a child, decided to grin and bear it as he was tugged across the table, forced to stand before Sif and the others. "There are no enemies here, and I will not stand for any of you to behave as such!" Thor's hand collided with the back of his head. "Now, apologize!"
Though the physical way that Thor always dealt with situations angered him to no end, Loki felt a sort of pride in knowing that he was not the only one being chewed out; that his brother's words were directed at the rest of them as well.
He leered at Sif with pale eyes, all but ignoring the Warriors Three, and smirked, turning his head so that Thor could not see.
"Has the lady been expecting an apology?" he said, and Sif's frown deepened. "Oh. She has. And without so much as a thought towards the despicable way she's behaved towards a Son of Odin. Son of her king." Thor thumped him again. "Though I suppose I should offer my condolences for your hair." Loki's eyes shone. "Had I but known that my games would be so ill-received..."
Sif avoided his gaze, muttered a half-hearted apology of her own, and turned quickly away, as if refusing to be near him would do any of them any good.
Thor sighed, seemingly satisfied, if only for the moment, and returned to his jolly demeanor, babbling on about how easy it would be to take the head off a bilge snipe with Mjolnir. That made Loki roll his eyes and hope that, now that Thor had a new toy, he wouldn't go inviting Sif and the Warriors Three to join them to play audience on their journey to Muspelheim.