A/N: Omfg guys I'm so sorry this took forever to get out. Six months huh? I blame writers block and rl issues. I promise it won't take as long next time, but you have every right to throw me hate. That being said, enjoy! Comments and critiques are much appreciated.
Thor and Loki sit side by side in the palace library while the "wizened" tutor drones on about the history of Alfheim. Her words mean little to the princes for two very different reasons. Thor, for one, has no care for them. He sees no point in burying your nose in the past when the present was what matter most. Loki, on the other hand, has already learned of the history of all the realms and the whisperings of beyond in his own time. His attention is turned elsewhere, thoughts unknown to Thor flitting through his mind. His brother is still so young, but yet the eldest son cannot fathom the look of concentration on his features.
The day is a warm one and both boys are stripped down to the bare essentials meant to keep them modest. Despite their mother's protest- which Thor just smirks at as he remembers the same complaints from years ago- Loki's longer hair is tied up to keep the heat from his neck. For some reason, Frigga hadn't protested that too much, instead looking worried, but Thor pays it no mind, passing it off on her motherly instincts.
Thor nudges the smaller boy, leaning his head against Loki's so he can whisper, "Come on, brother. Let us spar. This lesson bores me. I doubt she will even notice our absence." Their attendance doesn't seem to be what she concerns herself with. Instead, the gray haired woman gives the impression that she very much enjoys the tones of her own voice.
Loki looks up from where he has been gazing out the window, preoccupied with a nest of birds that give him distraction from hearing rehashed tales, raising his brows before grinning broadly as Thor's words catch up to him. "We think too much alike," is all he says before he is gripping Thor's wrist and hiding them in a cloud of green smoke. He jumps to his feet, pulling the blond after him as he sprints for the library doors. As of yet he lacks the skill to bend shadows to his will, but he is one for tricks and illusions even now. Thor enjoys his tricks, especially when they get him out of tiresome lessons.
They are both laughing by the time they make it to the hall, Loki giggling uncontrollably. Indeed, he nearly falls to the floor from his laughter, but Thor steadies him. Though it does little to help when he is still laughing in small bursts himself.
"Ooh, Loki! You have probably shocked the poor old hag into her death bed!" That only seems to make the small mischief maker giggle even more.
"Think of it, brother. We would no longer have need to suffer through endlessly boring lessons. Ah, what a freeing life that would be." Loki is finally settling down, sighing as he rubs at his aching sides. Thor is grinning as he slaps his little brother on the back, causing him to stumble a bit. By now, he is strong enough for the eldest prince to push around a bit more, though he still bears in mind his promise from ages that evade his memory. But the queen has made sure he does not forget his vow.
"Oh, surely you cannot be so harsh, brother. At least she keeps you from having excessive amounts of fun." It doesn't work well at convincing the small boy and he merely shrugs.
"It would hardly be my fault if her heart failed to prove strong enough to withstand a simple parlor trick." But Thor hopes his brother will never really plan on her demise. Despite her flaws, she is a kind and a respected tutor throughout Asgard.
"Now what did you say of sparring?" he questions excitedly, the energy from his amusement now obviously on this.
Thor smiles, reaching out to ruffle Loki's hair, much to the boy's displeasure as his nose wrinkles and he bats his hand away.
"I said you are coming with me whether you like it or not." Loki only has a moment to process that before Thor is pushing him through the corridor. The smaller boy's feet drag on the marble, making an unattractive squeaking noise in the process.
"I can walk by myself!" he snaps as he firmly stamps his leather sandal on the floor, bringing them to a stop. Thor stumbles behind him, nearly knocking them both over. He has half a mind to just hoist him up and force him to go, but the other wants to apologize. Thor settles for stepping back and giving him an apologetic look Loki can't see.
"I know, I know. Just have mind to go quicker. Sif and Fandral are waiting." He does not see Loki's face fall, but he does see the sudden sag of his small, delicate shoulders. He says nothing as he takes off running, setting a pace Thor thinks a the large Midgardian cat he's heard of (cheetah, was it?) would struggle to keep up. Understandably, he has a harder time of it as he sprints after Loki, his name resting on his tongue and filtering through the air the whole way.
On the run, Thor nearly knocks over at least three servants, give or take a few, and he is in too much of a hurry to catch up with Loki to apologize. When he finally does stop for a breath of air, it is by Loki who is waiting by the door leading outside to the sparring ring. He looks over at Thor with a grin as he enters.
"And here you proclaimed me slow. If you went any slower, a snail might bypass you." His words are obviously teasing, but Thor just grins wider.
"Slow I may be, but do not presume that means you can beat me in the ring. It would be your downfall, little one."
Loki scowls at him. "We shall see about that, large one." His last words are accompinied by a hard poke to Thor's gut. Thor winces, shoving at his hand while he watches a group of older boys sparring to their hearts' content. They are the ones that will soon see battle, and Thor envies them of the stories they will have to tell and the glory that comes with them. He and his companions have only just been allowed to hold steel made swords. Loki is, for all intents and purposes, not even in training yet. He was given the option between juggling the responsibilities of both magic and weapons training. Not wanting to learn less of each subject in a shorter amount of time, as he explained to both Odin and Thor, he opted for learning the art of sorcery first. Personally, Thor sees no problem with his brother's choice. Others, however...
Thor shakes himself away from his troublesome thoughts, earning a curious look from his brother, and starts walking out onto the grass covered earth. There are lighter footsteps behind him and he has to smile at the boy still following him around like he did when they were children. Admittedly, it is somewhat of a comfort to know that Loki would be loathe to part from him.
Once they reach the field, Thor circles the racks bearing weapons; two fingers firmly holding his chin as he tries to make his decision on which weapon he will use to plummel his baby brother today. He smirks as he picks up a sword. It is not a sharp one. Indeed, it had been magically altered not to cut even the softest of skin. But if wielded by the right pair of hands, it can still leave one panting for breath in the dirt.
Swinging the weapon confidently in his hand, he turns to Loki again with a grin in place. "Make your choice, brother. Be certain it is not too valuable as it will be broken in half before our session is through," he teases.
Loki gives him another look, one that for the life of him Thor can never decipher, and pointedly places his hands behind his back. "I need no weapon to leave you begging for my mercy."
Thor arches a brow but walks backwards into the ring with a cocky tilt of his lips nevertheless, into a different section than where the others are training. Loki walks calmly after, going to stand on the other side of the ring, his sandals leaving small imprints in the dirt as his hands start to glow green, a tangible energy melting off of his pale skin.
There is an acute lack of nerves at the sight, and Thor simply cocks his head to the side in expectantly. For a few moments, the only sound drifting through the air is the clang of swords in the distance while the brothers stare at one another.
Loki is the first one to make a move, thrusting his arm forward to fire a ball of green energy towards Thor. The elder ducks in time for it to go sailing by his head and hit the viewing stands. He dares not turn his head to get an idea of the damage done, keeping his eyes on Loki with a lessened confidence and a heightened determination.
He is the next to lunge at the laughing trickster, aiming his sword for Loki's shoulder. It falls through air, his brother having sidestepped to avoid being hit. For the next few swings, they either miss or do little harm. Until Loki tricks him into falling face first into the dirt. Before Thor gathers his wits again, Loki aims for his back and this time the energy hits exactly where he plans it to. The loss of breath and the blooming at being struck by something unknown is unexpected and Thor gasps in pain. Something feels wet on his back and a sharp intake of breath warns him something is wrong before the world fades to black.
*****
When Queen Frigga hears word of the injury, there is no man, woman, or anything in between that can stop her from seeing him. Her pace is brisk through the halls and servants shy away from her as her skirts fly behind her in a mirror of her fluttering heart. The Queen of the Nine Realms has little to fear. Her eyes don't bat at wars or threats of assassination. Her life could be in peril and she will simply call out the offender's stupidity until they leave her be. But when it comes to her sons, there is a fear so deep it nearly worries her. She would give her life to protect them. And now, there was little she can do but sit by her eldest's bedside.
She sweeps into the infirmary and the nurse steps aside and out of the room so she can get a view of her son. Or rather, sons. Loki is standing by his brother, trying to pretend that his eyes aren't swollen red and his cheeks lack tear tracks. He fails miserably, and it is then that any anger she felt for him putting Thor in this state vanishes. Her second son looks just as terrified as she is, if not more. Heartbreak is written in his watery green in eyes and before he can even register her presence, she is wrapping him up in an embrace. After a moment, she feels him turn his head into her chest and curl his arms around her waist. His grip is tight around her middle to the point where she feels she might suffocate, but that is not her concern.
"I didn't mean for this, Mother. I- I would never try to..." he trails off, his voice muffled by his mother's dress.
She shushes him, placing a gentle hand on inky hair. "I know, Loki. You need not feel guilt over this." He shakes his head adamantly.
"No, it is my fault. I shouldn't have used that spell. I haven't mastered it yet." There is a pause and a definite sniff before he is pulling back with a fresh smearing of salty tears on his cheeks. His hand raises weakly to wipe at them and Frigga finds it sad that he is trying to hide his emotions in this. "What if I've killed him? Oh gods. Mother, I've killed him. I can't... I didn't mean to." The words repeat until they taste funny on his tongue as he falls back into her arms. She tries to soothe him while watching for any sign of wakefulness in Thor.
*****
Four days later when Thor wakes is when she knows. When Loki is the first sight he opens to and her youngest practically flings himself into his brother's arms, whispering apologies until Thor manages to tell him to shut up rather bluntly. When Thor pays her no mind for a good twenty minutes, instead holding onto Loki in a state of confusion; she knows. What she sees in their eyes is the same light she knows are in hers when she looks at her husband and king. They are young yet and it makes her eyebrows knit together, but it is as apparent as the suns rising in the east that her sons are destined for each other.