Chapter Text
Loki had something to look forward to today, a date in which there was less talking and more target practice.
There was a table to the side of the two targets, various arrows and two strung bows lain atop of it. Loki’s dark curls were blown askew by the soft breeze accompanying the warmth of the sun. He decided a bath wasn’t as needed today as there was enough shade from the trees behind him and the maiden he was training with today.
“Archery is a noble art form.”
Loki could agree, to an extent. He did like archery. It was a braze example of posh elegance.
“I prefer daggers,” he commented.
The maiden notched an arrow and released, the arrow hit the center of the target and she smirked smugly at Loki. He took this as a sign of the start to a friendly competition.
“Well, hopefully your preference doesn’t hinder your archery skills, Prince Loki.” He chuckled before waltzing to the table and grabbing three arrows and his bow.
He notched an arrow and fired just as she had, both hitting the red centers of the targets with every arrow they had. Loki found comfort in this outing, just a wordless competition with small exchanges here and there. He didn’t feel any expectations or feelings of misery around her, he felt happy. He fired his last arrow, missing his mark by a hair meaning the maiden had claimed victory.
“Aha! I have won, but I did forget to introduce myself between all the excitement. I am Freya, a Valkyrie.”
“I can say I am not surprised given your skills, but I think I would like to spar if you would be interested?” Freya had the mischievous grin of a cat, and Loki mirrored it. He waved over the nearby staff, requesting two swords.
“It wouldn’t be fair if I were at my best with my sword and you didn’t have your daggers, please bring my prince his weapons of choice!” She called to the staff, and Mobius was the one to bring him two of his silver daggers.
Mobius smiled up at him during the exchange, examining Loki’s face for any signs of distress as he usually would. Yet, this time was different. Loki had looked exhilarated, was it from the rush he normally gets from exercise or was he truly infatuated with this maiden? Mobius felt like his heart was slowly breaking as he gave up any thoughts that the prince had returned his feelings, and turned away before his tears could start trailing down his cheeks.
Loki looked at the servant’s retreating back, was the sun so bright that his eyes had become moist or were those tears dulling Mobius’s green irises?
He turned back once again, sparring with Freya until the sun had set and she had invited him for a drink.
It wasn’t that type of “drink”, it had really become more of a contest to see who could hold their own for hours on end as they kept asking the bartender for more pints of ale. The Valkyrie clearly had him beat, to a point she sat there laughing as he had fallen off of his chair, also drunkenly laughing. His father would be upset if he saw how they were not maintaining regal decorum, which made Loki even happier.
Freya had first challenged him to an arm wrestle, in which it had been more obvious since the start who would win. Loki had taken a true victory when he played ludum coltro, using one of his daggers with startling accuracy in his drunken state.
“That is truly impressive, my prince!” Freya clapped along with the rest of the small audience he had garnered in the pub. Loki stood on the bar and bowed for the sake of theatrics and to satisfy his subjects.
Freya had pulled him down next to her before he fell flat on his face into the pub’s wood floors. They were both sitting at a booth, facing each other.
“Are you close with the servant from earlier? The way you two spoke gave the hint of something more than friendly companionship.”
“Mobius? He and I have been closest friends since he started working at the palace. We were sort of drawn together from the beginning, you could say.” Loki felt his face getting hot, which was odd for a frost giant to be feeling warm without being sick. He attested his red cheeks to the influence of the many pints of mead he had consumed previously, then stood once again.
“Another round my good-Mobius?” Loki had must have been dreaming, because there he was, his closest friend in the whole world, standing in front of him with a fond look. He didn’t notice that Mobius had small flecks of gold in between the greens of his eyes, not until he had grabbed his face and pulled him close to his own. The servant tried prying himself away from the prince, but to no avail.
“I could smell the alcohol on your breath just fine from where I was standing, my prince.”
“Did you know you have gold in like tiny spots of your eyes? It’s so beautiful, I could gaze at them for eons. Why haven’t I noticed this earlier?” Mobius had muttered something under his breath, turning away to avoid showing his flustered appearance.
“I think you’ve had quite enough, Loki. Please, let me escort you back to your quarters so you can rest before feeling like you went to Hel and back.” He looked at Freya with pleading eyes, she walked over to the prince and hauled him over her shoulder, motioning for Mobius to lead the way.
“What happened to being called my prince? I quite like it when you call me that. And put me down! Just because you’re a Valkyrie doesn’t mean I won’t stab you.”
“I took away your daggers after your third drink when you started showing off your skills and almost lost a finger. I needn’t be impressed, and neither did the entire pub for that matter.” Mobius immediately went to tend to Loki’s hands, turning them over to check for any injuries. Loki grabbed his hand and looked up at him from his uncomfortable angle while their hair fell into their eyes.
“Isn’t Freya so strong, I wonder who would win in an arm wrestle between her and Thor? Do you think she could fight Odin?” Loki had fallen asleep before Mobius could answer their many queries . They had still looked beautiful in their post-inebriation, slumbering state. Mobius held onto his hand as Freya lumbered on with him, turning in the hallway down to the prince's quarters.
“You and Loki are close?”
“Yes, we’ve been close friends since I started working at the palace a little while ago.” Mobius rubbed his neck and looked up at the ceiling, she wasn’t asking burning questions but he wasn’t exactly giving fully truthful answers. The truth was: he loved Loki more than anything in the world, and the pain of seeing him with someone as wonderful as Freya hurt his very soul.
“It’s nice to see he has friends here besides his siblings, I was worried I would be the only one.” Mobius nodded and opened Loki’s door, Freya lifted the prince once again and laid him on the bed, kissing him on the forehead before nodding at Mobius and taking her leave.
Mobius sat next to Loki while they slept, pushing the dark locks out of his face. His prince looked so lovely as he slept, he looked lovely all the time but it was nice to see him at peace. His love for him was so great, it took every ounce of his willpower to not yell it at any waking moment. Instead, he made him a gift and now left it on his nightstand, all his love imbued in a singular object with a small note. He looked at Loki’s sleeping form once again and left the room.
~
Loki awoke the next morning with a pounding headache, whether he had magic or not, he was never immune to a hangover. There was a fresh glass of water with medicine on his bedside table, and something wrapped in a brown cloth and tied with a green ribbon. Loki picked up the small package and read the note.
“You once said “Love is a dagger”. - Mobius”
Loki untied the ribbon and the cloth fell apart to reveal a silver-bladed dagger with an emerald hilt and golden flecks in between the seas of green. The prince twirled it around in his hands, going back and forth. It had almost felt weightless, but the blade was a wonderful weapon with sharp edges and it’s pointed tip. Loki felt warmth flood through his veins, his friend’s love matched his own in every perfect way.