Snow covers the ground, a frost clinging to every surface it can find hidden away from the light, and the streets of Asgard have dulled to a minimal roar. Families sit inside their warm home, gathered around a fireplace and telling stories of old to eager ears and minds of children. Even those who have heard them a hundred times over, roll their eyes fondly at the obviously dramatized events, encouraging the tales where they could for their younger siblings. Only a few souls brave the harsh winds, and one of them happens to be the oldest prince, Thor.
As it is, the boy is standing behind a pillar in the courtyard, breath fogging, and a grin tugging at his lips as he waits for his little brother to come close to where he is hiding. He is bundled from head to toe; his now much shorter hair tucked underneath the hood of the cloak wrapped around his shoulders, woolen boots tugged to his knees, and gloves his mother made slipped over his hands. For once, he didn't complain about the layers, because only last winter he had fallen ill from trying to rid himself of the clothing that seemingly suffocated him. Of course, it still does so, but he doesn't really care much anymore, because it makes his chest ache in this odd, foreign way when he sees Loki's eyes fill with tears as they certainly had when he had presumed Thor to be dying. Bringing his gloved hand to rub some warmth into his bright red nose, his grin turns into a feral one as his younger brother abandons his attempts at a snow castle ("That's for sand, Loki, you're being ridiculous.") and moves to a patch of green in the blinding white, gazing with a curiosity and understanding beyond his years at the small bit of life that manages to weather through the cold. Unfortunately for Loki, it happens to be close to where the blonde boy is currently staking out.
Being careful not to let the snow crunch obnoxiously under his boots, Thor creeps forward until he is crouching behind his brother who continues to watch a cockroach traveling around in the dirt and snow. Just as Loki begins to shift, recognizing that there is a presence behind him and not feeling comforted by the fact, Thor lets out a roar, hands darting down to grab at the smaller boy's sides and tickle relentlessly. Loki shrieks, trying to wriggle away from the offending fingers, but to no avail.
Thor continues to make unintelligible growls and snarls, though the effect is ruined by the laughter that seems to be infectious.
"Come on, Loki! I'm a monster, you're supposed to fight me!" his voice has dropped as much as it can before one truly becomes a man, the childish pitch still evident though he really is trying his best to sound like the warriors he overhears at feasts and celebrations.
"Oh yes, brother, you're so terrifying!" Loki giggles out; humoring his older brother, knowing Thor would never honestly hurt him. Even if he was young, he knew enough to tell at least that much. His brother was someone that was to protect him, or so their mother had said. Still, he tries to free himself from his grasp, as tears start to form at the corners of his eyes from the laughter and the horrid sensation.
Finally, after Loki pleads a few more times, Thor releases him. The younger god slumps forward, laughter trailing off as he brings tiny fists to wipe at the wetness on his cheeks. Thor drops back, his hands holding him up while he rests in the snow, knowing he will be berated for it later but not caring at all in the moment. The grin is still clinging to his lips, even as Loki looks over his shoulder to scowl at him.
"You're mean, Thor," he states with the certainty of a child who still sees things in black and white, with no grays in between, and a pout.
"I did not hurt you, now did I?" Thor retorts with a raised brow, though a hint of genuine concern creeps into his words. Loki quickly shakes his head.
"No, but I still dislike it…" the small boy trails off, moving around to face his brother, a smirk of his own growing on his lips. Without much warning, he tackles Thor to the ground in retaliation.
Thor lets out a shout, though he could easily push Loki off of himself and win this skirmish, but instead pretends to push at the boy's arms in a false attempt at escape. His parents had done the same with him when he was small, the warriors did it with him now when he tried, and he thought it must be big brother duties to return the favor. Later, when the dark haired boy isn't so fragile, he will be certain to beat him nearly every time, though he knew Loki would probably manage a few times.
"Ha! You're not so scary now, are you?" Loki is beaming from his perch atop Thor. The blonde finds himself trying not to smile. With a sigh, he shakes his head, sniffing at the cold, though he is sure Loki will think it because of his victory.
"Brother, you have beaten me. Now, perhaps you might let me up?" He looks up at Loki with pleading eyes that he knows works on everyone, from how visiting dignitaries and others gush about that same look and how adorable the two princes are. With a small huff of protest, the younger brother returns to his sour look before standing up with a huff.
"Thor," he whines, crossing his arms, "that's not fair." The blonde smiles warmly, picking himself up and dusting the snow off of his cloak.
"Would you allow me to make it up you?" Thor asks, tilting his head to the side. Loki seems to consider that for a moment before nodding and motioning for his older brother to turn around. It's a habit they've gotten into since the smaller boy had only learned how to walk. Whenever he would stumble or cry, Thor would sigh and pick him up, placing his arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. Already, he was strong for his age, and although he did struggle a bit under his weight, it wasn't enough to be much of a discomfort. So with a shake of his head and a laugh, the young prince allows his brother to clamber up on his back, until Thor can loop his arms under Loki's knees and the younger can rest his chin atop a recently freed mop of blonde hair.
"Onward, horse," his small voice commands, and Thor can practically hear the grin that stretches his brother's lips.
Obedient as ever to Loki's whims, Thor starts running, Loki gripping tighter as laughter bubbles from his mouth unbidden. It's time for lunch (he can tell by the rumbling of his stomach that nearly distracts him into dropping the small form resting on his back), and so he heads back into the palace. The young trickster's grip is tight around his brother's neck, and though Thor is petrified that he might drop the other boy on accident, Loki has no such fears, secure in the knowledge that the older prince would never bring him harm. Thor hopes he can keep it that way, and is probably holding onto Loki's legs a bit too tight, but if he notices, Loki doesn't say anything of it.
Once they reach the dining hall, noblemen and servants scattered about while boisterous laughter rings through the air, Thor places the thin boy next to their mother. Loki impishly hangs on to his neck as he tries to set him down, laughing the whole time. When he finally releases his grip, it's only to place a childish kiss to Thor's cheek, still laughing as if he cannot stop.
"Thank you, horsie," he says, giggling at his own joke before turning around to scoot closer to Frigga and peer cautiously at the plate of food she puts before him. Thor smile is wide as he reaches a hand out to ruffle his younger brother's hair, which causes Loki to make a noise of protest and slap at his wrist.
"Any day, my prince." The eldest prince gives a bow to the smiling boy.
Waving to their mother, he turns from the two of them in search of his friends. He finds them easily enough, sitting away in some corner, all three of them listening intently as an older warrior tells of an adventure in Muspelheim and raging wars of the past. None of them bother to notice that the man is hardly that, a rather round looking youth with brilliantly red hair only just entering manhood. He's older, and they believe what he has to say, for surely he cannot be lying about such things. Thor eagerly joins them in their listening, and while he munches absently at a chicken leg, he catches that the man's name is Volstagg, and he thinks the name rather suits him.
After their food is cleared away, Volstagg agrees that he will train them when the summer months return, and it is not so bone chilling cold outside the palace walls. The three children give four excited grins before practically bolting from the table to wreck havoc inside the palace walls.
For hours, the group of child warriors-to-be runs about the castle, having a grand time. At one point, they decide to play hide and seek. Hogun is the first seeker and they barely have time to hide before he is there, a small smirk playing at his lips as he stares them into submission. When they come out with a defeated sigh, he breaks out into laughter and convinces them to join him on his hunt for the others. Once they're all found, and cursing their usually reserved friend for it, Thor is chosen to be the next one to find them, as he was the first to be caught. Forever will he curse his terrible skills in secrecy. This goes on for hours more. It ends with a rather unfortunate incident where Sif hid in a basket filled with dirtied clothing, hears a servant coming to collect it and mistakes it for Fandral, and scares the poor woman into falling to the ground with a hand over her heart. The four of them gather sheepishly around her later to apologize by instruction of the All Mother, and if it were not impolite in front of the prince, one might have said she was glaring at them.
By the time Thor crawls into his bed and shoos Frigga away with a scowl, insisting he is too old for bedtime stories, he is positively exhausted. Whether it was the game or the apology that took his energy, he isn't sure, and frankly doesn't care as he buries himself under the warm furs and closes his eyes.
In what feels like moments, there is a warm weight curled by him, and he wakes with a jump and a confused expression. The older boy relaxes when he sees bright green eyes staring up at him, but the confusion doesn't lessen. He rubs at his eyes with a yawn before settling back down onto the sheets, Loki automatically scooting closer. There are a few moments of silence, before Thor's eyebrows draw together and he pushes at his brother's shoulder.
"Loki, what exactly are you doing?"
"Sleeping," comes the easy reply, though the words sound tired and the younger prince's eyelids are drooping already.
"Yes, you are. But you know, you have a bed too. Right over there, if I remember correctly," Thor counters with a raised brow, looking down at Loki who looks rather content to be taking up his space. Loki shrugs, fully closing his eyes and tucking his head beneath Thor's chin.
"I was cold. You aren't cold. And I missed you today. It was boring." Loki pouts before curling his arm around Thor and pulling the blanket over himself until there is hardly any left for his brother.
Thor is not in the mood for this conversation. The young prince would only insist that it was somehow Thor's fault for wanting to spend time with his friends. Their mother, admittedly, was not the most entertaining for a small child, but he's certain someone could at least pretend to befriend the other boy. But their parents always seem protective of him, and he wouldn't doubt they had threatened anyone who tried. Those thoughts are brief in his tired mind, and he sighs, before settling again with his body crowding protectively around his brother. Well, he supposes his parents had their reasons, and far be it from him to abandon them.
"Good night, then, but only this one time. Then I'm kicking you out." Loki says nothing, burrowing further against his chest, and he thinks maybe he's asleep already.
When the nursemaid that usually wakes the boys up reports to Frigga how it was far too adorable to disturb them, a smile tugs at the queen's lips before she gives an understanding nod and goes off herself to rise them. Later, when she gushes to her husband about positively cute it was to see their sons getting along so well, he looks nearly hopeful before she rolls her eyes and lightly smacks him upside the head. Odin quickly puts his hands up in surrender, muttering something about blind women who wouldn't see an opportunity if it came and knocked them off their feet. She tilts her head with a raised brow and he goes back to his book with a shake of his head.
After a while, Thor's words become senseless, as it becomes a habit and soon he finds the presence of his little brother a comforting one. It seems to appease Loki, who no longer complains when the older god spends time with his friends, and instead occupies his time trying to learn how to read his favorite books Mother reads to him. In a few years, he'll be ready for a tutor, and he wants to be prepared. It's a situation that works well for the both of them, yet as they grow older and their differences become more pronounced, Loki slowly slips back into his own bed, which is now in a completely separate set of rooms.