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The pair danced around each other as though they were rehearsing a melancholy duet. Somehow blind to one another’s performance, Thor found himself the only audience member to the most agonizing display he had ever seen. Despite the trickery and mischief, Loki’s base emotions were incredibly easy for Thor to decipher after a childhood of brotherly adventures. Though now grown, oft hiding behind a reserved appearance, Thor had long since learned Loki’s subtle tells that gave away his true feelings. The lingering touches, the ease with which he smiled or laughed, the quiet and almost hesitant glances. Thor knew that Loki’s heart had found its other half…if only he would act upon it.
Oh, Thor had tried to aid his brother, but his efforts seemed to be always in vain.
He could no longer remember exactly when or under what circumstances the renowned weaponsmith Anthony Howardson had first accompanied he and his friends on a quest, but he did remember when he began to note a distinct change in Loki’s demeanor whenever the man joined them. His brother’s prickly exterior would be subtly softened. He would smile more and was more apt to join in on the group’s fun. It had taken the thunderer an embarrassingly long time to notice the pattern of his little brother’s actions, but once Thor first saw the specific care and comradery Loki offered to Anthony, he could not help but notice forever after.
For a short while, Thor hadn’t been sure what to make of things. Often, when he came across a puzzle he could not solve, he would consult Loki on the matter. Clearly, he had no such option here. Thor could admit to himself that Loki was the smarter between them: the scholar, the strategist, the man with the sharpest tongue in all of Asgard. Still, the crown prince liked to think that he was, at least, not nearly so simple-minded as his sibling believed him to be. Thor kept his observations to himself, his instincts insisting that the mysterious motivation for Loki’s selective changes in behavior was not a subject he should discuss with his friends. Though he didn’t quite understand why.
He kept quiet for years. Loki continued to be his usual, bristly self around Lady Sif and the Warriors Three and ever-temperamental with Thor. In Anthony’s presence, however, Loki continued to be a man transformed. More agreeable, more patient, more…at ease. It wasn’t until the great feast for Freysblot that Thor finally understood the change that had come over his brother.
Thor had been enjoying himself when he overheard what sounded like a skirmish from within in the celebratory crowd. He had quickly gone to investigate the matter, assuming that too much alcohol had driven tempers a little too high for the festivities or to behold a friendly brawl among shield brothers. What he had not expected to find was Loki pinning a man to the ground with a dagger to his throat.
“Swallow your words, insolent worm,” Loki hissed at the man beneath him.
“Prince Loki,” a bystander called. “Stand down.”
The trickster paid his audience no mind. “How dare you spit your venomous fire here,” he all but growled at his prey.
“Brother, what is this?”
Lady Sif seemed to appear by Thor’s side to answer, drink in hand as she observed the scene alongside him. “Aldrich meant no harm, Thor. Loki is acting like a petulant child, overreacting as he is!”
Before he could ask for further clarification, the man on the floor let out a forced chuckle, clearly hindered by the weight of an angry mage on top of him.
“What I say is true!” Aldrich spat. “While the Realms may call genius, I call it what it is—theft!”
“Swallow your words or I will make you swallow your tongue!”
“No dwarf would take on such a low-cast child as an apprentice! His so-called study on Nidvellir was a farce!”
Loki’s knife pressed so tightly against the Æsir’s throat that a bright red bead was beginning to form above the blade. Thor took a step forward to stop his sibling, but was beaten to it by a calm voice from the surrounding crowd.
“Leave him, Loki.”
Anthony stepped out from the crowd and Thor could not help but notice that Loki’s shoulders looked somehow lighter once the weaponsmith’s words reached his ears.
“You heard what he said,” Loki said through gritted teeth.
“I did,” Anthony acknowledged.
“He insulted you and your craft!” Loki snapped, eyes still locked on Aldrich. “Accused you of theft and lies! I cannot let that stand!”
“Let him spout all the lies he wants, Loki. What does an ant matter to a mountain?”
The mage did not answer.
“Leave him be, Loki. You have already bested him on my behalf. This is a celebration; we should be enjoying ourselves.” After a moment, Anthony quietly added “Please, Lo.”
The prince gave his prey a cruel smile, whispering what was no doubt a threat of future harm in Aldrich’s ear before pulling back his blade. Loki stood and, as if nothing at all had transpired, turned his back on the fallen man and rejoined his companion to disappear into the crowd.
Thor stood in stunned silence as he watched Aldrich get to his feet and leave in a huff. The festivities around him slowly resumed as though nothing amazingly monumental had just occurred. In all their lives, Thor had never known his brother to jump to defend anyone’s honor like that. Nor had he ever seen him acquiesce to such soft, simple words beyond those of their mother. That was when he realized that his younger brother was undoubtedly in love.
From that day forward, Thor made it a point to invite Anthony to every feast and adventure he could. Anything to allow Loki an excuse to spend more time with the man who has so obvious caught his eye. Without fail, any time Anthony was in attendance, so was his brother. Thor’s friends, though they adored Anthony as much as any in their band of shield brothers, seemed surprised by the crown prince’s sudden insistence on always securing an invitation for the smith. If Loki noticed the change, he did not make it known.
Though the pair said nothing, Thor allowed himself a private, self-congratulatory smile when seeing Loki and Anthony together. Little by little, watching their interactions with one another as well as the rest of their party, Thor began to realize—at least it seemed to be—that Anthony might, in fact, return Loki’s feelings. The weaponsmith often sided with the price in arguments, took kinder jabs at the trickster when teasing members of the group, and regularly shared small tactile touches at seemingly every opportunity. Thor wanted to be happy for them. He was happy for them. Yet…their lack of any outward acknowledgement of a relationship made him worry. As much as he wanted to celebrate the union of his little brother and good friend, Thor continued to hold his tongue.
One night, having returned from a bountiful hunt, Thor was surprised to overhear a conversation among some servants gathered in the hallway. The younger prince and the weaponsmith were not to be disturbed, they had said, for the men wished to relax and converse in the privacy of the royal bathing quarters after their exhausting journey. Thor tried not to smile lest he give away their secret.
“Congratulations, Loki,” he had said after seeing his brother outside of the bathing quarters, spying Anthony disappearing at the end of the corridor as the smith headed for home.
The dark-haired trickster gave his brother a strange look. “Excuse me?”
“I said congratulations,” Thor said with a smile. “I am happy for you.”
His brother narrowed his eyes. “I heard you the first time, Thor, but I have no idea what you’re babbling about. What is it this time?”
The thunderer’s smile faltered. “Y-you know,” he muttered awkward, gesturing vaguely down the hall. “About you two. You two…being together.”
Though he covered it quickly, Thor couldn’t help but take note of the brief flash of horror that flashed across his face before transforming itself into a scowl.
“I don’t know what in the Nine you’re talking about, Thor. I am not courting anyone, unless you believe that in the mere hours since our return I have suddenly caught the eye of some maiden who wasn’t busy fawning over you and your trio of bloodthirsty simpletons. I don’t know what you thought I was doing, nor with whom, but I can assure you that you are wrong.”
The remnants of the crown prince’s smile fell into a frown. He glanced down the now-empty hall, then back to his brother.
“But I…” Thor stumbled, unsure how to proceed. “But I thought…”
“That would certainly be a change,” Loki huffed. “Good night, Thor.”
The Æsir stood there, watching his younger brother leave for his chambers in silence. Thor turned the encounter over and over in his mind as he took to the baths himself that evening. He could not understand why Loki would deny his relationship, why he would keep it a secret. It could not be in fear of tarnishing the smith’s reputation; despite Loki’s reputation for mischief, he was still a highly desirable prince of Asgard. True, unions between two of one’s own sex were rare, but so were male mages, so it most certainly couldn’t be the fear of being an oddity among their peers. The realization eventually hit Thor like a stampeding bilgesnipe. Neither Loki nor Anthony had confessed their feelings to the other. It was the only conclusion that made sense to him, and it twisted the prince’s heart to know his brother and friend still felt the need to be silent even when close to their beloved. He just wasn’t certain what he could do about it.
The pair continued to share fleeting touches, looks of longing, and it took all of Thor’s willpower to hold his tongue in the company of their friends. Too many adventures, too many feasts, too many tournaments he watched his beloved brother and good friend tip-toe around one another while so clearly desperate to be with one another. It was agonizing to witness, yet Thor couldn’t help but see every instance after having so thoroughly trained himself to recognize the would-be-lovers’ silent pleas.
One not-so-particular night, after again hearing a passing whisper from one servant to another that the younger prince wished for private conversation with his acquaintance, Thor found that he had at last reached his fill of paying witness to Loki and Anthony’s forlorn dance. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, fists clenched at his sides as he fought within himself: to respect his brother and shield-brother’s privacy, or to put an end to their relentless torture of one another. And himself.
“Thor?” Lady Sif asked, having turned around to see why the prince was no longer at her side.
There was a moment of silence before Thor answered.
“Go to the hall without me. There is something I must do.”
His friend narrowed her eyes, studying him.
“Go, Sif.”
“Is all well?” she asked slowly.
Thor nodded. “Aye. Go. I will catch up.”
Reluctantly, the Lady Sif nodded and left him. Thor took a deep breath, held it a moment to center himself, and turned to the royal bathing quarters. He grew more anxious with each step down the corridor. Loki would be furious with him, no doubt, but this was for his own good…as well as Anthony’s. They had both suffered long enough, and Thor right along with them.
Thor thrust the doors open with both hands, stomping into the room with a determined stare and a steady jaw. The two figures in the bathing pool startled at his entrance and pulled quickly apart from where they had been sitting. One of them stood, meeting the crown prince with a scowl.
“Thor! What is the meaning of this?” Loki demanded loudly. “I dare to find a moment of peace from your relentless bellowing and yet here you are to interrupt even that!”
“This ends now, brother.”
“Indeed! Norns forbid you knock before barreling in on those civilized enough to wash away the dirt and blood of your foolish battles!”
Thor didn’t move. “Tell him.”
Loki made a face, nose wrinkling slightly as the command caught him off-guard. “What are you getting at?”
Anthony had stood as well at some point and was glancing worriedly between the two princes. “If this is about my use of the royal—”
Thor barely paid his friend’s words any mind. He pointed at the weaponsmith as he locked eyes with his younger brother. “Loki. Tell him.”
He was met by further confusion. The younger of the two brothers shook his head in puzzled disdain. “You’ve gone mad, Thor. I don’t know what you are carrying on about, but if it is quite alright with you, I would much rather return to my bath.”
Thor let out a frustrated huff at his brother’s response. He rolled his eyes before again addressing the issue at hand. “Tell him, Loki, or I swear by Odin’s beard that I will.”
Silence.
The mage had had his chance, Thor decided. He was done playing these childish games. Changing tactics, Thor instead turned to the other man. He would try only once more.
“Friend Anthony. You tell him,” Thor demanded, nodding toward the trickster.
The weaponsmith looked between them in nervous confusion. “Ahh…what exactly am I telling him?” Anthony dared to ask.
Thor growled to himself in frustration. He pinched the brow of his nose for a moment, gathering himself before continuing.
“You—the both of you! I have watched you for years and I am sick of it!” He turned to his brother. “Loki, I see how you look at Anthony. I see the change in you in his presence.”
Loki’s eyes were wide with horror as the words spilled out of Thor’s mouth. He had no doubt that, were he not currently standing naked in a pool of water barely high enough for modesty, Loki would already be at his throat with a blade.
“Stop this madness and tell one another how you feel!” Thor shouted, gesturing to each of them. “It is obvious you two love one another. Just tell him and end this torment—for all of us!”
“Thor,” Loki hissed as he shook with either rage or fear, for Thor could not tell which. “Thor, you…you…how dare—!”
“Lo…?”
The mage froze, unable to complete his thought. Slowly, with a wide-eyed look of terror upon his face, Loki turned to face his bathing companion. The smith studied his face with wide eyes and a nervous twitch in his jaw.
“Is…what Thor says true?” Anthony asked in a voice that was surprisingly small for the usually boisterous man. He swallowed.
The trickster stayed frozen in place, hardly able to suppress the quaking of his hands as he stared at Anthony as a wounded rabbit may look into the jaws of a great wolf.
“Loki?” the weaponsmith asked again, barely above a whisper.
“I-If it were true,” the prince slowly answered, “If I were to say that I….”
“I would say the same,” Anthony replied almost too quickly. He swallowed, daring to take a step closer to the man who had enraptured him so long.
Loki suddenly mirror Anthony’s look of sheer disbelief. He blinked, his shoulders going slack and his spine straightening. The trickster shook his head slightly as if to be sure he was not under some spell. Thor stood by with an ever-growing smile.
“You…? Anthony, do you truly…?”
“You are my dearest friend, Loki. You are….precious to me, and for y-years I have…” Anthony sighed, eyes flickering away for only a moment as weakness dared to overtake him. “I have loved you from afar. I’m…I’m just a smith, Loki. I could never tarnish your—”
“I tarnish my family’s reputation on a daily basis,” Loki interrupted, daring to smile ever so slightly as hope gripped his heart. “You could never do anything to me but illicit a brighter shine.”
Anthony stood stock still. Thor, evidently forgotten where he stood just beyond the edge of the bathing pool, was nearly shaking with excitement to see the pair finally speaking.
“Loki?” the weaponsmith asked with a knitted brow.
“I have adored you for so long, Anthony,” Loki breathed softly. “I have wanted you. And loved you, but I never dared dream that you might feel the same.”
Anthony closed the distance between them before the prince had even finished speaking. Loki opened his arms immediately, as if the limbs were acting on their own accord, and pulled the shorter man against him in a tight embrace while tears threatened his eyes.
Loki’s voice cracked lightly as he spoke. “I never thought that you could feel…that you would want to be with…”
“Lo,” Anthony said with a hint of his usual laughter slipping back into his voice. He pulled away just far enough so they could more easily look at one another. “Of course I wish to be with you. I’ve wanted it more than anything. All you ever had to do was ask.”
Loki let out a choked laugh before pressing his lips to Anthony’s. They leaned into one another’s touch, desperately clinging to and exploring one another as if afraid that the magical moment might be stolen away from them as if it were all a mere dream. Their kiss, in the end, was only interrupted by Thor’s cries of elated triumph only steps away.
“At last!” the thunderer boomed in relief.
“Thor,” Loki snapped, his venomous glare quickly returning. “You—how dare—argh! Leave us!”
The crown prince gave a hearty laugh as he bowed and backed toward the door. “Of course,” he said with a grin as bright as the sun itself. “I shall leave you two to…converse further on the matter.”
“Thor!”
Anthony was laughing.
The blond man ducked back into the corridor before Loki could conjure something to throw at him. He paused only a moment to smile at the pair. “I am truly happy for you. Both of you, and you have long since had my blessing,” he bade before closing the door.
Thor gave a satisfied sigh, fists on his hips as he basked in the glory of success. At last, the terrible dance was over. Perhaps now a new song could be played. A brighter, heartier tune. Satisfied, relieved, Thor turned to meet his friends in the hall for dinner. Along the way he would tell the kitchen that Loki would most likely be taking his meal in his quarters tonight.