Chapter Text
Chapter 1- Spring
Loki sits in a tree, hidden from view by the dense branches. He's supposed to be training with his brother and the other boys but he's avoiding it. It's not as though the others do anything to him. He's Thor's brother and that makes him off limits, nobody touches him because they know they'll feel the full force of Thor's fury if they do. Loki supposes he should be grateful to his brother for that.
It's not as though he's not good at fighting either, he is. He's good at hand to hand combat and he can wield knives like nobody else. It's the fact they don't let him use magic, and he hates it. His uncle Tyr tells him that magic is a woman's craft and he'd do better trying to improve his skills with a sword instead of doing all those 'parlour tricks'.
Loki hates fighting without his magic, using spells comes to him as naturally as breathing these days. Trying to fight without it feels like he's got one hand tied behind his back, makes him feel off balance, like he's battling with himself as well as his opponent. And it makes him sloppy, he can't win without magic and he's sure Tyr knows that. So Loki spends a lot of time hiding up trees or in alcoves or behind statues, he's got pretty good at not being noticed, it's like his special talent.
He peers through the trees into the courtyard below at the other boys training, he can spot Thor easily, sparring with his friends and laughing easily with their uncle.
Loki feels a pang of jealousy as he watches how naturally Thor interacts with people, how his brother puts people at ease.
He isn't like his brother, he isn't like any of the other Asgardians really, he's always been different. The other boys are tall and well built, blue eyed with open easy expressions and wide laughing mouths.
Loki's tall too, he had a growth spurt last summer and he's nearly as tall as Thor now but he's built differently, all long limbs and lean muscle. And his colouring is different too, his hair is dark and curls awkwardly around his collar and his eyes are green, not blue like his brother's. It's difficult to believe they're actually related sometimes.
Thor is loud too, full of life and confidence. Loki couldn't be more different in that regard either, he's not naturally drawn to other people, he doesn't trust them. Prefers books to brawls, and he's pretty sure Thor's never picked up a book willingly in his life.
That being said, Loki loves his brother more than anything in the world, apart from maybe their mother. Thor may be an arrogant oaf who punches first, asks questions later, but he's protective of Loki and is probably the reason Loki hasn't been beaten to a pulp by the other boys already.
Loki's pretty sure they're looking for him now, it's the second time this week he's not turned up to training, he'll get a hiding for it later, if they can catch him that is.
His eyes fall on Fandral, one of Thor's friends, who's stood quite close to the foot of the tree. He's blonde and handsome and Loki likes him. He's nicer than his brother's other friends, which isn't a particularly high bar. Most of Thor's friends think Loki's a freak, which he can't really disagree with. There's all sorts of colourful rumours floating around the young warriors about Loki's proclivities, some of them are true, most of them aren't. He's never bothered to dispel any of them though, let people think whatever bullshit they choose to.
He resigns himself to the fact that he'll have to get down at some point, might as well get it over with. Loki sighs and drops noislessly from the tree, bending his knees to absorb the impact and lands next to Fandral.
The boy starts and then looks at Loki nervously. Everyone seems nervous around Loki. Partly because they worry he'll turn them into a frog and partly because they don't want to find out what Thor would do if he thought they'd looked at Loki wrong.
The late morning sun glints off Fandral's wavy hair and not for the first time, Loki wishes he wasn't so different. The other boy has filled out over the last year too, nothing on Thor but Loki can see the muscle under his training gear and tries very hard not to stare. Not that his brother's friend would be interested anyway, it's well known around the palace that Fandral likes girls. A lot. Loki doesn't blame him, he likes girls too, and boys. Doesn't make a huge amount of difference to him, if someone's attractive, they're attractive.
So Loki just smiles at him, as genuinely as he can manage but he's sure it comes off as a grimace.
'Where have you been hiding then?' Fandral asks, giving him a small crooked smile in return. 'Tyr's looking for you.'
This close up, Loki can see a small scar on Fandral's cheek, probably from not getting out of Thor's way fast enough.
Loki doesn't answer his question though. He might like Fandral better than the other boys but that doesn't mean he trusts him. He's still one of Thor's buddies and they don't have a history of being particularly kind to Loki. They might not touch him but that doesn't mean they can't hurt him.
'Spar with me.' Fandral says suddenly, that crooked smile still on his lips.
Loki frowns at him, trying to figure out the catch. No one asks to be his sparring partner, no one offers to practise with him, they just get lumbered with him if they're the last one to arrive at training. The others say he fights dirty and he does in a way, but he doesn't really have a choice. They're all stronger and bigger than Loki, and even though Loki's fast and quiet, he still can't always hold his own without magic.
He shakes his head at Fandral and decides he's just not going to train today, Tyr's not spotted him yet so as long as Fandral doesn't squeal on him, he can make a quick getaway. He doesn't think the other boy will, so Loki slips away from the courtyard as silent as a ghost, without turning to look over his shoulder.
He finishes up in the library, which is where he ends up most days. Loki is honestly astounded no one finds him hiding out here, but then again he doesn't think he's ever known Thor and his friends to set foot inside the library, in fact he isn't convinced some of them know where it is.
The cavernous room is practically empty of people apart from a couple of doddery old librarians. If they notice Loki sneaking around, they don't let on, just continue poring over dusty tomes, spectacles perched on the ends of their noses.
Loki treads the usual path to the back of the room where the magic books are kept. He supposes if he's going to skip out on training, he better do something useful with his time. He runs his fingers along the shelves, looking for the volume on runes he'd been studying, enjoying the feeling of the worn leather bound books under his fingers.
He eventually finds the book he's looking for and pulls it out before sinking into a low velvet armchair in a corner and sitting cross legged on it. He thumbs through the pages until he gets to the chapter he needs and begins to read.
Loki tries really hard to concentrate on the runes in front of him, but the image of Fandral's hesitant crooked little smile keeps popping back into his brain. He pushes it away in irritation and chides himself for his naivety, just because one of Thor's friends is showing him a crumb of human compassion, doesn't mean he should go getting attached.
He's known Fandral for almost as long as he can remember, he's a thoroughly decent person, and he's the only one of Thor's friends who actually bothers to give Loki the time of day, who smiles at him occasionally if they pass in the corridor and who always squeezes up the bench at mealtimes so Loki can sit at their table.
His father is some big shot general who worked his way up the ranks of Odin's army, so he and his family live in the palace and it's rumoured Fandral's going to become Thor's sworn sword when the prince comes of age. Loki doesn't feel too bitter about it, he might be Thor's brother but he's about as useful with a sword as Thor is with rune translation (not very) so he's quite content to let someone else take that responsibility.
Loki shoves the thought of the pretty blonde boy out of his mind and goes back to the rune translations. He needs them to cast some of the more complex and impressive spells that he wants to learn. It's just so incredibly tedious, he'd rather be reading history or actually practising incantations but needs must.
When Loki finally glances up from his book, it's dusk outside the window. Blast. He's late for dinner. He's definitely going to get in trouble now, skiving off training and turning up late for dinner.
He stands, wobbling slightly because his left leg has gone to sleep from sitting cross legged for so long. He shakes it out and puts the rune book back onto the shelf before grabbing a spell book at random, stuffing it into his satchel to read later and hurrying from the library towards the dining hall.
It's a couple of weeks later when Fandral talks to him again and it's when Loki least expects it. He's not training today so he's sneaked away from the palace to the apple orchard, climbed a tree and is sitting in it with his legs dangling, leaning against the trunk and reading a book on illusion casting. It's the one element of magic he really wants to master, he's been shapeshifting since he realised he could but projecting illusions is something he's not quite got the hang of yet.
He's so engrossed in the book he doesn't notice the approaching figure until a voice from below him says,
'What is it with you and trees?'
The sudden noise startles Loki and he has to fumble with the book in his hands to avoid dropping it on the newcomer's head. He looks down and to his utter shock, Fandral is standing staring up at him.
He's not wearing his training gear, just a loosely laced white tunic tucked into leather breeches and black boots. Huh, he must be on an off day too, but what in the name of the Norns is he doing here.
'I was trying to get some peace and quiet' Loki says irritably and snaps the book closed. 'What are you doing out here?'
'Fancied a walk.' Fandral says, shrugging and leaning against the tree. 'Couldn't throw me an apple down could you?'
Loki is still utterly baffled as to why he's there talking to him, this just doesn't happen. Thor's friends only talk to him out of politeness, and they certainly don't go out of their way to do it.
'Idun will kill you for taking them,' he replies. 'But if you really want one, it's your funeral.'
He leans around, grabs an apple from a nearby branch and drops it down to Fandral who catches it in one hand and grins.
'Thanks.' he says. 'You coming down or what? I want to talk to you and I'm getting a crick in my neck looking up at you like this.'
Loki frowns, waiting for a punchline but it doesn't come. So he sighs and drops down from the tree so he's standing directly in front of Fandral, the illusion book still in his hand.
'That's better.' Fandral said, giving Loki that crooked smile that makes Loki's chest contract a little.
He notices one of Fandral's front teeth is chipped, probably from one of his and Thor's ridiculous night-time escapades. The imperfection makes him look even more handsome somehow and Loki hates himself for thinking it.
'What do you want?' Loki says nervously, finding it difficult to look the other boy in the eye.
'Why wouldn't you spar with me?' Fandral asks simply, and Loki's taken aback. That was weeks ago. He assumed Fandral would have forgotten all about it
He doesn't quite know how to answer that, mainly because no answer he can give doesn't make him sound like an utter idiot.
'You'll have to spar sometime.' Fandral goes on. 'And you keep missing training sessions, if you won't fight me then Tyr will just put you with someone else. And they might not go so easy on you.'
Loki snorts derisively, go easy on him? Who does Fandral think he is?
'I don't need babying' he snaps, surprised at how angry he suddenly is. 'I can handle myself fine, thanks though.'
'I know Tyr won't let you use magic.' Fandral says quietly. 'But you need to prove you can manage without it. I can help you if you want.'
'You, help me?' Loki says with a harsh laugh. 'I don't think so.'
He grabs his pack from the foot of the tree and heads back up to the palace, tucking the book into it as he goes.
Loki is so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice Einarr until he walks headlong into him in a deserted corridor on the way back to his room.
Einarr is one of the older boys, further through his warrior training than Loki is. He's built like a mountain troll and in Loki's opinion has the brains of one too. He's always trying to muscle in on Thor's inner circle, but never quite makes it, and that makes him bitter. And for reasons Loki doesn't fully understand, takes that frustration out on him instead.
'Alright little princess.' he says, leering at Loki, his breath making Loki take a step backwards, it smells like he's eaten an onion whole. But Einarr catches hold of the front of Loki's shirt, he's bigger and stronger than Loki and right now he's definitely in control of the situation.
Loki tries unsuccessfully to wriggle out of his grip, as one of Einarr's hands drifts dangerously close to Loki's belt. He thrashes even more desperately, cursing himself for not bringing his knives with him.
'Aw don't fight it princess' Einarr says, tightening his grip on Loki's shirt, everyone knows you're desperate for it.'
And suddenly Loki isn't frightened anymore, he's angry. He can feel his magic coursing under his skin like it's fighting to get out. So he just lets go, not entirely sure what will happen. Then Einarr screams and pulls his hands away like he's been burned, and Loki realises that's exactly what's happened. Heat is radiating over his skin, he can feel it prickling uncomfortably.
'You little shit!' Einarr yells, lunging towards Loki again as though he's going to punch him in the face. But before Loki can think to do anything, something comes streaking past him, pinning the other boy to the wall.
Loki stumbles slightly and backs away from the pair, his hands shaking as the heat in his skin slowly subsides.
'What the fuck are you doing Einarr?' Fandral hisses, his arm pressing into the larger boy's throat.
Einarr lets out a strangled little cry, his face turning slowly purple due to the pressure on his windpipe.
Fandral releases him and Einarr doubles over wheezing and coughing.
'You don't touch him again, you understand me?' he says, his voice still low but saturated with rage.
Einarr nods wordlessly, he's taller than Fandral but right now he's cowering away from him and Loki feels slightly gratified.
'Get out of here.' Fandral says dismissively. 'My horse needs mucking out, and unless you want me to tell Thor about this, I suggest you go and deal with that.'
Einarr nods again and scarpers away down the corridor, throwing terrified looks over his shoulder at Loki and Fandral.
Fandral walks slowly towards Loki, his palms up like he's calming his horse and stops so he's far enough away to give Loki space. He appreciates it, he's not sure he wants anyone to touch him right now.
'You alright?' Fandral asks him, his brow furrowing in concern.
Loki tries to nod but to his embarrassment, he feels a sob rip from his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut to stop himself crying. When he opens his eyes again, Fandral's still watching him.
'Did he hurt you?' Fandral asks urgently. 'If he did…'
Loki shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak without breaking down completely.
'Come with me.' Fandral says kindly. 'You need a drink.'
Loki stares at him dumbfounded, he doesn't know what Fandral's playing at but he's not going to turn down a drink. He nods once and Fandral leads the way down the corridor.
Fandral takes them to his chambers, which are situated in the east wing. The rooms here are smaller than in the west of the palace where Loki and the rest of the royal family have their quarters. Loki realises he's never really been to this part of the palace before.
Fandral stops in front of a door about halfway down the corridor, rummages around in his bag and pulls out a key. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, gesturing for Loki to go in first.
'It's probably not as grand as you're used to.' he says with an apologetic note in his voice.
Loki steps inside and looks around, the main room is smaller than his and more sparsely decorated, with a small sofa, a low wooden table and a couple of mismatched chairs. It's messy though and looks lived in. There are a few books scattered here and there, and a double bed is pushed up against a wall opposite a stone fireplace.
Another door leads off the main room, but it's closed so Loki can't see what's beyond it. He assumes it's the bath chamber though.
Fandral closes the door behind him with a click and follows Loki over.
'Sit down.' he says, waving vaguely at the sofa and chairs. 'Mead alright?'
'Yes, thank you' Loki says, suddenly feeling extremely awkward at being in Fandral's private room but takes a seat on the sofa anyway.
Fandral opens an ornately carved wooden chest in the corner of the room and retrieves a half full bottle of mead and two mugs. He pours a generous measure into each of them and carries them over. To Loki's surprise he sits down on the sofa too but keeps enough of a distance between them so it doesn't make Loki feel uncomfortable.
He passes one of the mugs over to Loki who takes a sip of the sweet honey-wine, grateful to have something to do with his hands.
'You going to tell me what that was all about?' Fandral asks. 'I know Einarr's a bastard but that looked nasty.'
'It's nothing.' Loki says, unable to meet Fandral's eyes. 'He doesn't like me much, that's all.'
He actually knows perfectly well what it was about. Ever since people somehow found out that Loki was interested in girls and boys, they seemed to have decided that he's an easy lay despite the fact he hasn't actually done anything more scandalous than kiss one of the kitchen boys last summer.
But he's hardly going to tell Fandral that, it makes him burn with shame to think about it.
Fandral raises his eyebrows and takes a sip of mead, he clearly doesn't believe him but Loki's not giving him any more. He still doesn't understand why he's even here and drinking mead with his brother's quite frankly beautiful best friend.
'Why'd you help me? Loki blurts out without meaning to. 'Were you following me?'
Fandral gives a low throaty chuckle that makes the hairs on the back of Loki's neck stand on end. He doesn't really know why but he really wants to make Fandral laugh like that again.
'No princeling, I wasn't following you.' he says. 'I was on my way back here to get changed then go out for a ride. But then I saw you and Einarr and I didn't think Thor would forgive me if I let his little brother get beaten up.'
'I was doing fine.' Loki mutters. 'Didn't need your help.'
'He was going to smash your face in.' Fandral points out. You're welcome by the way. You don't need to be so prickly about it.'
Loki knows he's got a point, but he can't seem to help but be cautious. He doesn't trust people or their intentions easily. He wants to let people in, desperately but he's too afraid of getting hurt. He's got to try though or he'll always be alone.
'It's because I'm um...different.' he tries, not sure how to word it. 'I like…'
'Boys and girls?' Fandral says, and shrugs. 'No big deal, so do I. You'd be amazed how many people actually do.'
Loki gapes at him, did Fandral just really tell him that.
The older boy laughs at Loki's expression and drains the remainder of his drink.
'I'm getting a top up.' he says, standing up. 'You want another?'
Loki shakes his head, he's not even halfway through his first mug yet.
'We're having a little party tomorrow night.' Fandral says, finishing pouring his drink and turning back to Loki. 'It's Hogun's name day so a few of us are going to have a couple of drinks. You should come.'
'I mean, thanks for asking me.' Loki replies. 'But people probably don't want me there.'
'If you weren't so damn moody all the time, people might ask you to go to these things.' Fandral says with a smirk, tucking his feet up underneath him on the sofa as he sits back down. 'You will come right?'
'Sure. Why not?' Loki says, excitement and nerves fizzing in his stomach.
They sit for a while, talking about nothing in particular until it's time to go for dinner, and for the first time in a long time, Loki feels like he belongs.
Loki hadn't been sure what to expect from the name day party but to his surprise, he's actually enjoying himself. He's sat cross legged on the end of Thor's bed, a goblet of wine in hand.
They've gathered in Thor's chamber because it's the largest and he has the most impressive collection of alcohol. It's a small gathering, just Thor, Hogun, Volstagg, Fandral and Lady Sif. Thor's inner circle of friends, Loki's pleased to have even been invited.
The others are sprawled out on the floor, reclining on piles of cushions and furs, passing a bottle of mistletoe wine between them and laughing as Volstagg regales them with stories of epic battles which Loki doesn't think are entirely accurate.
He's studying the group, watching how they interact with each other. Loki is very aware these are Thor's friends, not his, and he does still feel like something of an outsider.
Sif sits with her head resting on Fandral's shoulder, an easy companionship between them, and Loki only feels a touch of jealousy at how physically close they are and wonders idly how it would feel to rest his head on Fandral's shoulder instead.
Thor has one arm slung around Hogun's shoulders, the two of them laughing as Volstagg finishes recounting a particularly dramatic tale of taking down a legion of dark elves.
'I fear you may be exaggerating how many elves you slaughtered, my friend.' Thor calls out and aims a cushion at Volstagg who ducks, and the cushion smacks into the wall behind him.
'Well, let someone else provide the entertainment, if you disbelieve my stories.' Volstagg says indignantly, sitting back on the cushions.
'How about you trickster?' Fandral says, patting the cushion next to him. ''Come sit with us, and show us some of those tricks of yours.'
Loki looks up from his drink and hesitates. He wants to join the group on the floor but he's still unsure. Part of him thinks this is some huge cosmic joke that he's not in on. But he does have a couple of party tricks he could show them.
Grabbing his drink, he unfolds himself from the bed as elegantly as he can manage with that much alcohol in his system,wanders nonchalantly over to Fandral and sits down next to him.
'Looks like your little brother has overindulged a little' Volstagg says, nudging Thor in the ribs. 'Hopefully he won't set the place on fire with his magic.'
'Oh ye of little faith.' Loki says, and grins. He's not quite so far gone he can't control his chaos for a couple of tricks.
He opens his hand to demonstrate and small fireworks explode out of his palm, illuminating his face. The rest of the group watch in awe, smiles lighting up their faces, even Sif who seems to wear a near permanent scowl.
Loki closes his hand and the fireworks extinguish.
'Nice job' Fandral says from next to him. He's sitting so close to Loki that their shoulders bump together and Loki jumps as though he's had an electric shock.
The rest of the group murmurs their approval too and they settle back into an easy stream of conversation. Sif has moved and is now lying on her stomach, resting her chin on her folded arms, a wolf pelt thrown over her back, listening to whatever it is Thor has to say.
Fandral turns back to Loki and passes him the wine bottle.
'You enjoying yourself?' he asks. 'Glad I made you stop being a recluse.'
Loki takes a drink from the bottle, the tangy sweet drink burning his throat as it goes down. He hiccups and covers his mouth, trying not to giggle.
'Think I might possibly have had a bit too much to drink' he says. 'I'm not looking forward to trying to get back to my room.'
'Then don't.' Fandral says simply. 'Plenty of cushions, we normally just all pass out in here after we've been drinking.'
Loki smiles to himself and takes another huge gulp of the wine, and settles back against the cushions, pulling a pelt over his knees for warmth.
Loki doesn't remember falling asleep, but he wakes the next morning to blinding sunlight streaming in through the ceiling high windows of Thor's chamber. He's lying in a heap of pillows and furs, and he realises with a jolt he can feel the warm weight of another person pressing up against his back.
He turns his head slightly to see Fandral asleep behind him, his chest pressing into Loki's back. He grumbles slightly in his sleep at the movement so Loki turns his head back around and Fandral settles back against him. Loki has to admit, this feels nice and if he didn't have a splitting headache then he'd be content to stay here all day.
He can hear the soft snuffling sounds of the others breathing and snoring. Seems like they all just fell asleep after drinking last night, there are various wine bottles scattered around, and screwing up his eyes against the glaring sunlight, Loki can see Thor sprawled out on his bed, Hogun next to him with Sif under a blanket at the end, curled up like a cat.
Across the room he can see Volstagg's head, the rest of him buried under a pile of cushions and furs. Loki knows he should move before Fandral wakes up, save him the embarrassment of realising he'd fallen asleep essentially spooning Loki. But he's comfortable here, and he can't deny he's enjoying the feel of Fandral's body against his.
And practically speaking, if he tries to move, he may wake Fandral up and that would be even more mortifying. But the decision is made for him when he feels a slight shifting behind him and a sleep-rough voice says slightly groggily
'Loki?'
Loki curses internally, and rolls away from the other boy before turning over and propping himself up on his elbow so they can talk.
Fandral looks at him through heavy lidded half closed eyes, his hair sticking out in all directions like he's been hit by lightning.
'Norns' he says, throwing an arm dramatically over his eyes. 'I think I might be dying.'
He lifts his arm slightly and looks at Loki, and screws up his face as though he's thinking.
'Sorry about falling asleep like that.' he says, yawning. 'I'm a bit of a cuddler apparently, ask Hogun.'
'Don't worry about it.' Loki says, trying to keep his tone light. 'Least you don't snore.'
'Gods, it smells like a brewery in here.' Fandral continues, draping his arm back over his face. 'How much did we drink?'
Loki looks around at the various empty bottles and considers how bad his hangover is.
'Far too much.' he concludes before shutting his eyes again to block out the sunlight.
Eventually, the others wake up too, groaning and complaining about their hangovers.
'By Ymir' Sif says, sitting up and pulling the blanket around her shoulders, her normally perfectly styled hair in disarray. 'I hate you Thor, that mistletoe wine is lethal.'
'You drank it.' Thor says, rubbing at his temples. 'And we had fun right?'
'I think we missed breakfast.' Volstagg says, still half obscured by pillows.
'Always thinking of your stomach my dear' Fandral shoots back.
He sits up next to Loki and stretches luxuriously, putting Loki in mind of a cat. His already loose shirt has fallen open during the night, showing off an impressively sculpted chest. Loki averts his eyes, not wanting to look like he's staring.
Thor looks round at his slightly morose companions and grins smugly.
'Luckily for you.' he says with a note of triumph. 'I am already prepared for just such an eventuality.'
There's a soft knock at the door, and Thor calls out, 'Come in!'
The door creaks open and a serving girl enters, carrying a heavily laden tray containing what looks like half the palace pantry. Sweetbreads, jams, cured meats, bacon and eggs, and jugs of what Loki hopes is water.
She sets it down on a side table, curtsies and backs out of the room.
'Tuck in.' Thor says, chuckling. 'Don't ever say that Thor Odinson isn't blessed with foresight.'