Chapter Text
Torov cursed as his skin pinched under the long bandage. He thought he had gotten the right instructions, but he couldn’t seem to make his chest as flat as he wanted it to be. That, and the bandages hurt. He turned to either side, examining his reflection in the mirror. He had become stronger in the past couple of years, the muscles in his arms and stomach more defined. He was still a bit skinny, and he had always been short, but he had changed a lot.
He had been lucky in that he already had a sort of stick figure body, so becoming fit did not serve to make him look more feminine. His hair, he could not cut short like he might have hoped, only because he could not make it obvious that he wanted to transition. Just as well, many men in Asgard had somewhat long hair, so he soon learned to accept that his hair would have to be long. He managed to get away with cutting it to his shoulders, and preferred to have it straightened just so that he could get rid of the ridiculously long curly mess that had been on his head.
He had also been experimenting with makeup, looking up several contouring tutorials (who would have guessed his phone could reach a signal from Asgard) to try and make his face look more masculine. Sharpening his jaw line and cheekbones, adding subtle shadows over his eyes, he even found one photo that showed him how to define collarbones. Of course, he could never wear the makeup outside of his room, and when he did wear any makeup, it was terribly colorful and feminine and made him avoid all mirrors at any event he had to wear it to, because he knew he would cringe if he saw his reflection.
He was broken from his thoughts by looking back in the mirror, all too aware of the slight bump that remained on his chest, even with the bandages. He pulled it off with an exasperated sigh and threw the thing onto his bed.
He jumped at the knock on his door, getting out a quick ‘one second!’ and frantically searching for a shirt. The door swung open just as he pulled a shirt down over his chest and began to stuff the bandage under his pillow.
“Torov?” Thor’s voice called, turning the corner to see him lying on the bed in a strange position, as if attempting to hide something underneath himself.
“Nothing.” Torov said, completely unprompted.
Thor eyed him curiously. Torov had never been a very good liar. “Torov, what are you doing?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all, you?” he asked, trying to keep his face straight, his blinking normal, anything he had read about telling a convincing lie. He really should have learned by now that the advice was useless if he could not remember it.
“I came to inform you of the events of the council meeting.” He said, taking a seat at the edge of Torov’s bed. Torov shifted slightly, still not managing to move to a less suspicious position.
“Yes?” Torov asked, shifting to lie on the opposite side of the bed, one arm still propped up over one pillow and supporting the side of his head.
Thor watched Torov shift around until he was still, knowing he was up to something strange. “Well, the leaders and their advisors seem uncertain about your eligibility as a prince of Asgard.” He said, making it obvious to both of them that he was understating something much more serious.
Torov grumbled and huffed out a response. “Why?” he asked, though he knew very well the reason for their doubts.
Thor merely sighed. “They believe your mixed genetics make you less intelligent.” He said, pausing for a response. When he received nothing but an irritated expression from Torov, he continued, “This belief is not held against you alone, either. They hold this to be true even against Mick and Kevin, even Kaija.”
“What, so anyone of human descent is automatically inferior?” Torov asked, his disdain for the council quickly becoming obvious. “And what about Kaija? She’s not even of human descent! She’s half Vanir!” he began to shout, and Thor tried his best to shush the boy.
“Apparently, anyone of mixed racial decent is inferior according to them, yes. But, Torov, this is a belief that they have held for a very long time, it is only now becoming relevant.”
At this point, Torov jumped out of the bed, hidden bandages forgotten, and started to pace at the front of the room, ranting about the unfairness of the situation. “So what? Kevin is like our best blacksmith, Kaija is being trained by Heimdall!”
“I know, Torov—“
“Haven’t I been taught about monarchies and all the details of being a prince and spent the last few years studying typical Asgardian subjects? What makes me any less qualified for being a prince or King than you or Loki? I mean—“
As Torov was distracted by his own ranting, Thor looked over at the pillow that Torov had been leaning over prior to standing up. He reached over slowly, glancing briefly at Torov to see that he was still paying no attention to him.
“It makes no sense, like—“ Torov paused when he looked at his father and saw that he now held the sloppily rolled bandages in hand, his expression a cross of concern and anger.
“Torov…” Thor started, sighing as he placed the bandages on the nightstand.
Torov quickly grew quiet, keeping his eyes down.
“I told you not to do these things, Torov. You know that it is dangerous.” He said, “I told you, we will figure this all out.” After getting no response again, he sighed and took the bandages, rolling them up and standing from the bed. “Where are you keeping this?” he asked.
Torov wordlessly turned and pointed to one of the drawers on his dresser, still unable to meet his father’s eyes. Thor moved past him to open the drawer and took the bandages away. He stood in front of Torov and waited until he looked up at him. “Listen to me. I do not want to find you doing this again.”
“Yes, father.” Torov said, averting his eyes immediately after he finished speaking.
“I need your word.” He said, and Torov rolled his eyes, grumbling a bit. “Your word.” Thor repeated, his voice becoming more of a growl.
“Fine, on my word.” Torov groaned.
Thor simply sighed and took the promise for what he could get, before turning and leaving the room.
Immediately after he was gone, Torov moved to his wardrobe and pulled out an even longer roll of bandages before standing in front of his mirror once more.