"I can't stop it, it's ... it's in my blood. Our blood, brother." [Thor x Loki]

A/N: First, I want it to be noted; I tried bummer hard to be accurate with the norse (northern) mythology, but graciously failed. So yeah, I'll try to keep the nonsenses at bay, but please ignore all those little mistakes like who has married to who and whose daughter is that. Second, I'll make an attached page with look-alikes for all the characters, in order to skip all the useless describing. I'd apreciate if you'd look, because it'd help you picture the action much more better. For the start, that's all I know, and all you -if you want to proceed and read this- need to know. Seriously, read that.
There's this northern land of Gods called Asgard, whose ruller is Odin, the Great God, God of battle and dead. Odin has -among many which I'm not sure if I'd mention- two sons: one is Thor, God of Sky and Thunder, a great feared warrior and a just and might heir of Asgard. Thor was conceived with Fiorgyn, lover of Odin but not his woman. The other is Loki, Thor's half older brother, conceived with Lofn, the goddess of ilicit unions and both unatural creatures and practices. Loki is known as the Shape Changer, the Sly One and the Sky Traveller, and he's the God of spellcraft,mischief and binding. He's told to be increasingly evil and shrewd. Others worth to be mentioned would be Sif, Goddess of training and practice, known to be promised to Thor. There are the gods Aegir, God of the sea and wind, Hel, ruler of Helheim, land of the death and unspoken and Forseti God of justice. There's left to say Eir, Goddess of healing, and Vor the Goddess of knowledge. I don't think I'll add some more characters, because in my opinion that's plenty either way, but who knows? Hope I'll work it enough that I'll get bored.
W/A: Incest, Violence, Swearing, Lust, Gay content. [<-- Shit, that sounds good!]

~Enjoy!~

Loki ☾ ☸ ☽

"Gah." Loki mumbeld, rolling his eyes and letting a fake yawn escaping his lips. He half-listened to all those cheerings and screamings that were passing through the stone cellings and walls to his chambers. "Hail Thor, the fearless warrior and the leader of us all!" mocked the raven-hair God, rolling his dark eyes again. His brother has returned home - he couldn't ignore the fact even if he wanted to. He was curious - boredom did strange things to his mind - what did his brother slayed this time? Another giant? A fearsome beast? Some overpowered ancient God that threaten to take over his father's throne, Odin, while the Death God was whoreing and drinking?
Loki shook his head, and his long, straight, characoal-black hair shaken with it. A strange smile appeared on the trickster's lips as he got up from bed and opened the door to his chambers. The ovations were even more clear now: "Slayer of the Evil and Undead, with the power of the Skies and Graces upon him, Thor, God of Thunder! Hail Thor!" He couldn't help rolling his eyes and smiling with mockery as he walked the stone hallway down to the room where the feast was coming to pass. "I shall go congratulate him, then, shouldn't I? I found myself, after all, his big brother." he though, sensing the irony in his own mind.
The steel doors were all open and people entered and exited the current party in exaltation. The smell of mead, ale and wine flew to him up to the door step, and the fire burning in the pits in the middle of the room made Loki wanted to threw up. He shivered shortly - there's nothing he hated more than fire and rubbish noise - noise which has gotten louder than ever as the trickster was making path among the drunk and merry men and women. "Warrios. Eugh." he thought, nodding his head with contempt, when he suddenly felt a mighty arm on his shoulder.
He startled and turned in half a moment, which made the old man laugh. He was one of his brother's captain of army - or whatever that was called. Loki couldn't remember his name, if he ever knew it at all.
"Yes?" the trickster asked, a glaced tone as his dark eyebrows frowned in anticipation.
"Bitter as always, my Prince." laughed the old man, making the lesser title to sound like an insult.
"Your ... Prince?" Loki frowned even higher, and his lips thighten in mute anger, making him look like one of those specters that guarded Helheim. "I am a damn God, you ... ."
"Brother." Loki heard a voice from behind. He stopped, the words drowning in his mouth, and he straighten his back. His skin was feeling those kind of chills he felt in childhood, whenever he climber too high mountains. He smiled brazenly and turned to the voice's direction, the heat of the fire making his insides tremble and shiver even more. He pushed aside a cheering group, and there he was, standing on their father's throne.
"Undefeated, Mighty Thor." Loki said, his voice a dagger of ice pointed towards his step brother.
Thor smiled brightly, appartently either not seeing the irony, either chosing to ignore it.
"That's empty talk, brother." said the Thunder God, seeming to restrain himself from saying or doing something. Loki felt a sting of guilt at his brother's modesty, which intensified when he layed eyes on his brother's blonde hair, his warm blue eyes and his slightly parted lips. The trickster couldn't help but smile too.
"Either way, it's a nice title you got there, little brother." replied Loki as Thor got up from the white throne and embraced him unexpectedly.
"How's father?" asked the Thunder God, surprising Loki once again. "I thought he saw him already, pulled him off one of his whores and given him the good news of victory."
"He's inside, that's a certain thing." concised the trickster with a vicious grin. Thor gazed in wonder, without understanding, then he blushed all of sudden and looked down. Loki almost bit his lip when he saw his little brother's red cheeks. "I'll be damned by the Graces, he's the fucking warrior of us all and yet he can't seem to talk about mating or cunt." he thought, ignoring the part in which the innocent image suited him so well.
"Don't be so shy, little brother." demanded Loki with a mischevious smile. "You'll soon do that on you own, from what I heard."
Thor raised up his head and thighten his jaw in a sort of helpless anger. The trickster chuckled.
"Of course, asuming you didn't do it already ... or did you?" continued Loki tortuously, feeling a wicked, almost physic pleasure from torturing him like this.
"There is nor the proper place nor the proper time for such speaking, brother." said Thor with a voice suposedly noble and controled, trying to look in any other place than the mischief's God raven eyes.
"My starts!" exclaimed Loki, making a few people turning to them in curiosity. "Proper. What an ugly word."
The trickster chuckled again, looking at his brother's red face with a sort of hungry look. "Well, dear, I was simply trying posibilities. How will you satisfy you future wife if you know no matter of cunt or tits?"
Thor's eyes opened wide, and he got a step closer to his older brother.
"Loki, please." he begged, in a whispered pleading voice that made the trickster's legs gone soft.
"Alright, alright!" he admited among laughters, avoiding his brother's unsure and embarassed look. "With no vicious meaning I ask this time, brother, but what do you think of her?"
"Sif?" Thor's voice was lacking any sentiment, as Loki rarely heard. The blue eyes neither searched for the Goddess in the crowded room, nor lighten up at the hearing of her name. "She seems ... nice."
Loki swallowed his amusement and hidden it under a pityful smile.
"And niceness you seek from a wife, brother? You could have any maiden at you door in a blink of an eye. You could have ancient goddesses with unspeakable powers, mortals from Midgrad of unseen beauty. You could have everyone."
Thor smiled with which seemed sadness, and blinked repeteadly. He sat down at one of the little tables near the throne.
"Everyone?" he said softly, trying to escape from his brother's eyes.
The trickster smiled approvingly and sat next to his brother on the pelted chairs.
"Why is that, have you layed eyes on someone in this fearsome quest of yours?" Loki smirked, questioning the sudden pain in his chest and the knot in his throat.
The God of Thunder looked as his brother in wonder, then smiled simply and shaken his head.
"No, it's not that, I'm afraid. I may know few in love and woman, but not so few that I'd carry affections to the spirits and the undeads."
"Ha!" tittered Loki, claping his hands. "Was that humour, brother? All the Graces, you must leave Asgrad more often! I'll certainly value this trait you begin to develop."
Thor sniffed with amusement and tapped his brother's shoulder.
"Don't worry, you're the trickster on this land. I'd never attempt to take your place as evil jester."
"Jester?!" Loki arched his head back and laughed loud. "War have started for less!"
Thor provoked him with a large smile, and emptied up his tankard of wine. "He drinks wine. He drinks wine? On Bagvar's cock, when did that happen?!"
"Speaking about what were we speaking, how're you magic and illusions?" asked Thor with a sweet smirk, but the trickster could tell his brother knew the friendly insults of his words.
"They're called spells, you damn idiot!" exclaimed Loki raising his hands in despair, and started laughing when he heard his brother pleased chuckles.
"Then could you show me, perhaps?"
Loki got up and did a lovely reverence. "As the Mighty Warrior commands. I am nothing but his humble servant." claimed the trickster with a seductive smile. Thor hit his shoulder playfully and grabbed the bottle of mead. With a surprised smile, he followed his brother out of the feast chambers, and down the cellar stairs untill the noise were barely to be heard.
The front part of the cellar was rarely occupied, so Thor sat on an empty chiar and sipped from the bottle, as his eyes were tracing Loki's moves.
"Are you sure ready for reversing everything you know? It's ... -
" ... it's sure reversing, brother." finished Thor with the slighty mocking smile that the trickster usually had.
Loki closed his eyes and heard only his brother's tongue touching and drinking the wine, the rubbings of the stones and the rusting of the metal bars. He knew the main lesson, the only rule too well: everyone's soul, body and mind are just threads. Cut everything you don't want to use, and wove again with the needle of elements on what you shall use. "Fire." Loki thought boldly, already feeling the warmth of it lighting his face, raising the hair up his arms, drying his tongue. He woven fire dripping from his skin, sewing it on the threads of the old stones. He knew the fire would be there before he opened his eyes.
Thor gasped, removing Loki from the sweetness of the control that spells gave him. His younger brother jumped up, throwing the chair on the floor and stepped far from the fair. Loki laughed softly. "Still scared of the unknown arts, eh, brother? Just like in childhood."
"Don't worry. The fire won't harm our Undefeated God." spoke the trickster with causticity, grinning in a mix of amusement and malice.
"Loki are you ... are you ok?" asked Thor with that soft worried low-voice that destroyed once again all of the trickster's walls.
"It's a simple thing, brother." lied the God. "Just as you and that Millojnir of yours -Loki pointed to the hammer Thor was carring at his hip-, these are my weapons. Who I am, and why both men and Gods shall fear me."
"Well, if that is so ... ." began his brother quietly, then smilled with the enthusiasm of a child. "I'd love to see some more."
Loki giggled and shook his head. "Perhaps another time, brother. Another one of my 'illusions' shall make you faint, and we don't want that, do we?"
Thor seemed tempted to stick out his tongue to the trickster, but he approved with a half-heart smile.
The fire extended untill Loki could feel its burden, so he extinguished it with a flip of the arm. Undoing a spell of elements was far more easy than doing it.
The mischief God climbed up the stairs and walked silently, his breathing a slow pace, to his chambers. When he got in he closed the door and leaned himself on it, covering his eyes. He was amazed. He never tried fire before. "Once you master the game of light, you are done with the elements. You must move to the true mischieving now: the spirit." Loki remembered the words clear as the moonlight, just like someone was speaking them in that very moment. He sighed, a bit confused. The spirit. But on whom? Who had that strong bound that was needed at the first steps of this art? Who?
Downstairs, the yells were still easy to hear. "Thor!Thor!Thor!" Loki smiled all of a sudden, a gorgeous, cold grin that hold in it the entire meaning of evil that was spoken by its name.

Thor ☸☽☸☾☸

The Thunder God just remained silently in the cellar for a couple more minutes. He wasn't ready to go yet, to face the crowds. They were his people, he knew that, and yet he couldn't think at but one person he'd like to be his.
He gazed at the fresh ashes among the floor, and felt a shiver at the bottom of his stomach, a mix of both envy and admiration. Slight envy, but still the feeling was there, not letting him let go. He remembered too well that part of his childhood, in which he was suposed to learn the unseen arts. The first lesson.
It was a black early morning as the rain was pouring unforgivingly from the torn up skies, and he entered the back courtyard with Loki by his side. His brother, seeing the obvious fear on the younger's face, gathered Thor's palm into his, and smiled graciously, warm and full of joy.
"By Graces, what changed him?" thought he, trying to ignore the traces of pain that the memories brought. He nearly fell that day, twisting into a whirpool of never again and shivering nightmares, horrified by the taste of witchery and dreaded by trying again. Loki did diffrent; Thor remembered the amazement on their teacher's face, the way his older brother was laughing and clapping ... .
The God shook his head, returning in the present days. He drank untill the bottom of the bottle, grimacing at the large amount of mead. His purpose was settled; he was to see his father, for however he delayed the meeting, is was unevitable. In few hours time, there will be new dawns.
"New dawns, new dangers." reminded Thor to himself, as he knocked at the God's door. The knots in his throat seemed just as dangerous as the dizziness from his head, but he stood high and tried to smile as he heard steps aproaching. As soon as the golden door opened, Thor just saw a glimpse of skin before he jumped aside and covered his eyes.
"My starts, father, it could've been anyone! Put a robe on, will it please you?" mumbled the Thunder God as his looks were searching the floor wiht both anger and embarassment.
"Indeed anyone." replied Odin with a smile Thor could not see, then sighed burdened. "I'd ask you in, my son, but I'm yet not sure if the ladies that take place in my bed at the very moment will cherish another company."
Thor crooked and flipped his hand. "Spare me the detail, I beg. I just intended to deliver the news." The words made the Great God laugh loudly, shaking his head in disbelief. "I know the news, my son. They're always the same: you, a winner. A winner in all."
Thor left his father's proud smile pass around him, and thought of yellow fire turning the stones into ashes. Of a silver tongue that could slip the deepest secrets or desires from a man. Of a dark soft hair and coal velvet eyes. "Not in all.", the God thought, leaving his father with a polite reverence.
The feast noises made way to his ears. "Only for short time, then I'll leave."
In short time indeed he was searching return to his chamber, haunting the cold hallways like a spectre. It was but short time, though much wine can be drunk in short time.
His steps seemed carved into stone, each one getting even more easy to take, like he was flying over the Throat of the World. The walls, the floor, and the celling seemed all the sv ame to him as he layed on his knees, his head pressed against something he believed to be a wall.
"Oh, good Graces." he gasped, stretching his eyes shut in order to stop the permanently movements, and held his iron-heavy head in his hands.
"I'll never lay lips on wine again." he said to himself, but simply the tought of wine made his stomach clench and sicken. He tried to breath in, trying to catch fresh air, but he could only feel like he was falling continuously, stirring around.
Not knowing how, his hands digging in stone, he tripped to his brother's door and knocked, while his other hand was trying to catch the wall.
Loki opened with a surprised look, and he supported Thor inside. "Damn, brother." muttered the elder in a raw, full of anger voice, that made him both want to laugh and cry. "You were supposed to be the sane one!"
Thor fell on the floor with a mumble, and he could hear Loki hissing with disdain as his brother locked the door. "It is yet so cold and warm in your chambers, brother." said the Thunder God almost intelligible, crouched on all fours while investigating the green carpet.
The trickster knelt next to his brother and helped him sit, leaned by the wardrobe. Thor blinked heavily, barely baring to not throw up all over his brother's lovely carpet. "Where did you learn drinking?" asked Loki with the same protective anger that surpirsed both of them.
Thor pressed his hands on his eyes, smiling weakly. "What, - he said with a hoarse voice- are you somehow worried for me, borther?" He coughed a few times, and he saw how Loki already reacted by touching his hand.
"Was it like that all the time for you?" asked the younger God after moments of silence in which he tried to convince himself he won't throw his guts up. The trickster looked back at him perplexly, raising an eyebrow.
"Like it was for me in that day at the Pass. Knowing I was unable to do something ... father's disapointment ... the fear. Was it like that all the time for you, brother?"
His brother's face after the question was impossible to understand even for a sober man. Thor heard his voice, a soft far away whisper, unable to reach at him. He closed his eyes and leaned his head in his brother's lap, trying not to respond at the feeling of Loki's fingers running protectively through his hair.

Loki ☾ ☸ ☽

He couldn't close his eyes and fell to sleep, knowing where his brother was. He surprised himself looking at the thunderer's slightly parted lips, at his clenched fists... . He then nodded his head. "Why, by all the starts, would he drink?" the trickster thought with sincere wonder.
Loki remembered his brother's question and thighten his jaw. Thor shouldn't have asked that, for he knew the answer far too well. The younger God has always chosen to ignore how their father behaved, putting him on some sort of mortal pedestal that was far away from reality. He chose to ignore how the Great God only cared of battle and cunt, how he never said sweet words of neither Thor's nor Loki's mothers, how he ... how he disgraced his older son.
"Enough about that, fool." he said to himself, his own thoughts covered into a thick layer of ice. Unwilingly, he gazed at his brother and nodded slowly, trying to shut his mind from whatever may follow after. He couldn't even move a muscle, because ... well, it was found to say that another muscle would move. And he certainly didn't want that. No.
The trickster sighed easily, pressing his hands on his eyelids, forbiding every slice of imagination. His eyes were set on the purple and green nightskies of Asgard, watching still as they were litten by the new day's dawns. He felt a slight pain in his chest, like reaching for something that had never been there. A missing limb. A past-life memory. A dark wish.
"Fuck." he thought he mumbled, but he sudden realised that the words weren't his. Thor blinked in surprise and wonder, looking around like a conjured animal.
"Graces, my ... my head. What even ... ?" His words got lost and he got up back upright, rubbing his eyes.
The trickster let a quick sound of laughter escape his lips.
"Yeah, about that. You see, brother, when a man drinks ... -
"I know that, by fucking Helheim!" Thor muttered with tired anger, as he bought his knees to his chest. "I'm not a child!" he continued with the same iritated voice, at which sound Loki had to bit his lip to stop his laughing. The thunderer couldn't look more like a child even if he tried: fuzzy eyes, torn up hair, that angry helpless look on his face. "Damn."
"Why did I ... why did I sleep on -Thor's voice broke down a little bit- on you?"
The trickster kept his face as emotionless as always, his voice steady with calm.
"We fought last night. You seemed to be quite exalted to see Sif, therefore I tried my best to stop you from embarasing yourself." Loki replied peacefully, as a short fake smile appeared on his face.
Thor, on the other side, seemed quite the opposite. He wided his eyes and his lips, facing his brother's afirmation in wonder.
"S-sif?" He stopped and noded, with half of conviction. "No, that can't be true. You're laughing on my cost, brother. No mistery they call you the trickster. Graces, my head ... ."
"Oh, but you did." Loki continued, getting up and smiling brightly, just like he slept all night and a new perfect day was about to begin in his perfect life. "You did wanted to see her, insistently really. I had to fight you to stop the madness of your loving heart."
Thor sighed heavily and cursed several times, as the trickster continued flashing his eyelashes with innocence.
"But I do not hold love for her, she's just ... . She's a little girl! We've both know her since we were kids, fighting with mud and wook sticks on the battle field."
Loki hissed with amusement and clapped his hands ironically.
"A little girl?! By Graces, brother, you certainly haven't seen her recently!" The trickster stopped thoughtfully. "Oh, right. I remember. You were busy slaying beasts and hunting Giants."
Thor growled softly, a sound unheard until then, which made Loki startle and take a deep breath.
"I am most surely not in the right state to face your little jokes, brother." replied the thunderer hissing, the true danger in his voice being barely covered.
Loki swallowed dry, trying to seem unafected by that diffrent side of his brother, even though his insides were tenth time lighter. "I should give him wine more often. The effect is surely ..."
Thor tried to get up, bending in one knee in order to prevent the falling, and the trickster grinned mockingly. Even when the thunderer was so angry and slightky dangerous, Loki felt a unmeasureable pleasure to taunt him.
The younger God tripped two steps, leaned on a statue pillar, then fell down with it. Loki covered his face in amusation, slowly nodding.
"Funny." Thor growled again, spitting the dust from the broken relic.
The trickster reached out his hand to his brother, with a "oh, I told you" smile, but his entire being froze when Thor got up holding his hand, the thunderer's face almost touching his.
"Do you, umm, do you find the way to you chambers?" Loki asked, looking down for one of the first times in his life. "Alone? Without overthrowing people or destroying ancient fucking statues?!"
Thor raised his shoulders distracted, and the trickster could see that the wine effect was not gone yet. The younger God was standing in the doorstep, on his halfway out, when Loki said calmly, the sarcasm barely showing : "Father will be proud."
"You mewling quim." muttered the thunderer quietly, then walked out with heavy steps.
The raven prince just stood there in the room, gazing at the door in utterly surprise. Did his borther just call him a ... . Loki shook his head with amazement, as he started laughing uncontrolably.

Thor ☸☽☸☾☸

He was far from sure of what he had said or done. The thought gave him ice chills, simply frightening enough to vanish the sleep and the headache that was gaining hold of him. "Loki would have told me if I had made a fool of myself ... or worse. He would've. I'm sure ... I think."
Why did he storm out like that, the damn fool? He should've stayed to ask his brother questions, instead of asuming and guessing. The thunderer nodded his head, simply amazed by his own stupidity - each moment of it, begining with the one in which he so idiotly decided to drink along with his weapon men.
The young God washed up and changed his clothes with simple movements, blinking slowly and tired of even keeping his eyes open. His hands got tangled up in his blonde hair, and he stared longly at the image in the hanging mirror. He was more than a mess that he'd ever seen, and he couldn't help but remember his older's brother drinking times. The trickster used to get up only a bit wrinkled from that well known image of perfection: his black smooth hair only a bit ravashed, his skin only a bit more pale and sickly, his lips only a bit more white. Thor remembered that too well, as he gazed at the mirror again. "Well, damn." he muttered to himself, wondering what changed his brother's vicious behaviours. "Is there a woman?" The tought made Thor to purse his lips in a sort of protective anger, and his breathings quickened. That couldn't be it, that just couldn't be it. Loki would have never missed the ocasion to shove her into his brother's face, grinning gorgeously with that light dark smile of his.
The thunderer looked pitiful and full of desire at the tempting bed, but he turned and got out the door. It was his first morning home after almost three months, and his father would probably seek him. "Most likely not." a voice in him whispered, and even though Thor knew it was right, he had to play along his good kid part, just like he'd always done.
Aproaching the private dinner rooms, he heard a woman's voice mixing with his father. Too daring to be one of his concubines, too young to be one of Odin's aquitances or relatives. Even through his still fuzzy mind, Thor found the answer shiverly. "Sif. By all the Graces, Sif."
He swallowed a few times and took deep breaths - it wasn't the fact that he was nervous, but he was well aware that the state of him should be hidden to its best.
The thunderer entered the room with a restrained, polite smile, his steps cutting the conversations and his imposing stature catching all of the diners' looks. He was wearing a silk light blue robe garnished with grey fur, and black tight trousers stuffed in white, northern boots. His natural tanned face was now slight pale, which made him look even more of a norse warrior, and his blue deep eyes had barely visible dark circles just like he'd slept all night after a tireing, fearsome quest. Judging by his father's impressed look or by the girl's almost open mouth, his wine story was far from suspected.
"Good morning, father." said the thunderer politely, barely looking at Sif. He wasn't at all after being rude, he simply never knew how to handle girls. They were either too caring, either not caring enough. Either strangely brave, either sobbing beings that made him lose focus. He just couldn't get the trick of them. Of course, there were women among his warriors, tall and braced northern women that could bite the axe's steel with their teeth. The thunderer never looked at those ones the same as he looked at the fair haired maidens that were giggling and dancing circles at the feasts.
His brother, though - . That was a completely diffrent story. The trickster was having every Goddess's or mortal's heart at his feet, and he was well aware of that. When the Raven Prince appeared with his darkened almond-shaped eyes and his glowing hair, all other men faded from the girls' attention. And what even more -thing which even Thor could notice- the trickster appeared even more desireable because he didn't seem to seek girls attention. If, by any meanings, either one of his admissions was taken to his chambers -the thunderer involuntary tighten his jaw at that tought- no one ever knew.
"'Morning, Thor." the light voice of Sif answered simply, but obvious irritated, awakening the God from his day dreaming.
He turned to her with a smile, waiting for that chills that beautiful girls were said to give to men. He felt no such thing, but yet he couldn't deny that Loki was right and even more. Sif changed in an umeasurable way - she grew taller, but it wasn't only that. She grew like a woman grows from a girl. "By Graces, I'm starting to notice what my brother usually notices." He quickly smiled and looked at her ever bright, huge eyes, at her thin lips and at the white, clear skin in which the true changing laid. Thor couldn't remember seeing the girl without mud all over her cheeks and leaves in her hair - even at the feasts they were rarely allowed to attend, she never wore a dress or a girly jewel. Of course, she wasn't wearing a dress now, nor earings or thin diadems, but the diffrence was overwhelming.
"Sif, it's pleasant to see you. I didn't notice you in Asgard in the last year, and I often thought what happened." the thunderer answered, keeping that easy smile.
"You wondered, you say, and yet you never aksed of me."
The girl's voice was nor rude, nor angry, and yet Thor sensed the danger in her voice. Odin smirked and hissed slowly, shaking his head with familiarity. His father - the Great God, and yet he seemed far from ready to join Thor's side against the woman. Even more, with a casual, mumbled excuse, he stood up and left the dinning room.
"I thought you were busy with your studies, as my brother was." the young God splatted, lowering his eyes.
At that words, Sif sniffed with contempt and smiled ironical.
"The whole Asgard knows of you brother's studies."
"You cary much love to him, I see." replied Thor in sarcasm with an unexpected but not unwelcomed hint of bravery, and gained the courage to look in the woman's eyes steadily. "But beyond your personal matters, you should carry him respect. He's son of Odin, your King, and my brother."
Sif looked back at him with the same boldness in her looks, but she was the one that surrendered, swallowing dry and nodding her head.
"Yes, I ... I do apologise." she muttered softly, pursing her lips. The girl sipped from the golden chalice on her left and took a few more bites from the food that Thor could not stand to see.
"What did you mean with that, anyway?" asked Thor with merely curiosity. Sif's fork felt on the table with a cracked sound, and she looked at him in both anger and something else he couldn't reckon.
"I meant what I meant." she replied with rush, and sudden paused. "And that is the fact that your older brother was even more worthy of his name."
"He was the trickster?" asked Thor randomly, rasising his eyebrows.
Sif shook her head and looked down at her plate. She seemed rather sad, regretful. Was Loki hurt?
"No, more like the Sly-Prince-and-God-of-fucking-mischief." the girl muttered in a deep tone.
The word made Thor restraining a smile - he never knew girls talked like that too. Well, not girls like Sif, at least. He stood in silence, searching for another polite question that wasn't related to his brother, but he couldn't resist the urge to know.
"And why would be that?"
He received from her an annoyed look, which -as far as he could tell- was trying to sugest something more than obvious. Something more than obvious that Thor was definately not catching.
"Oh." he said suddenly, nodding his head. "Yeah, I ... I see. You really did carry him love."
The thunderer made an effort to erase the amazed look on his face, and nodded again in silence. Sif avoided his eyes and slightly sighed, skaking her head like trying to get rid of the Raven Prince's memory.
"Name me one girl who didn't, and I shall give you her weight in gold."
Thor bit his lip, fully accepting the challenge. He ran a hand through is hair and sat more comfortably, trying to think about it thorugh.
"Well, there has to ... . I mean, there has to be one in Asgard that simple didn't enjoyed my brother's look or his behaviour."
Sif hissed ironically and laughed with both joy and something that seemed close to pity.
"You, men, you all know nothing."
Thor finally caught a glimpse of the little girl that used to splash him with mud, and smiled gently.
"You used to say that in childhood too. Whenever me or my brother outpowered you with our strength, you turned to us, red at face, tears flowing on your cheeks, and spat: 'Boys are stupid anyway. They know nothing.' And I remember I never believed you back then."
Sif nodded with the same lost smile, which meant she surely recalled that.
"So that means you believe me now?" the girl asked, her tone both curious and amused.
Thor thought about his father's loss of sence when it was about women, at his brother's imprudence and rebelion, even at his warrior's rush to kill everything in sight before thinking. He eventually thought at him, going exactly to Loki's room last night, not to Sif's. At his brother's now discovered lie, that Thor had no way nor clue about how to find its meaning.
The thunderer smiled and nodded aprovingly.
"Yes. Yes, now, I mostly do reckon it so."

Loki ☾ ☸ ☽

The trickster felt the thin presence behind him from where was he standing: outside the walls of Asgard, on the top of the world, and with the presence came the slight smell of fear. "Do heights scare you, father? Or is it my fault that you tremble like a little girl?"
Loki turned to Odin with a evilish grinn, raising his head in anticipation.
"So, what now? I truly hope you do not intend to throw me off this cliff, father. My hair is far too bad looking to die today."
The Greater God muttered in anger and stupidity, tighten his outlined jaw.
"Obvious. More worried by how your hair looks like, than about your life. This is not a soldier's mind, but a ... -
"What, dear father? Can't you finish the sentence? Speak the words."
Loki jumped off the cliff in rush, slightly knowing the danger, and landed right in Odin's face.
"Speak the words, coward. I dare you." whispered the trickster with that soft, insane smile, which grew stronger when he saw his father's both surprised and furious look.
"Oh, but you can't, can you? You and all your puppy warriors can slay both beasts, Gods or men without blinking, but you can't even spell a word about what you do not understand."
The trickster paused, getting only his face closer to his father's, his body remaining still.
"Just like a mortal." he completed with a conceited smirk.
Odin's hit arrived suddenly, and yet not unexpected. Loki found himself leaning on his hands on the ground, spitting blood. "Fuck." he thought, trying to drown that river of anger that was threatening to take over him. He knew what anger could do to him; his both mind and soul would have lost control, and Odin would have been no more than a sack of meat and bones and maybe some ancient God's dust in a few seconds.
Loki clenched his fists, tapping his blooded lip to wipe it out. "Calm.Down." he yelled to himself, closing his eyes tight to supress the pain from restraining.
"Does it hurt now, boy?" Odin asked with contempt, the pride in his voice unbareable to hear.
The young God could literally feel his veins boiling, his heart scratching his chest. He was burning.
"Leave." he mumbled, almost unable to say the word, his voice trembling with fear for what he could do.
"I leave when I will please so. You must apologize f...-
"Fucking Graces and Spirits, father, leave now!" Loki yelled from the depth of his lungs, keeping his face hidden from Odin's sight.
He knew how his eyes grew red like blood itself, how the veins in his face turned black. His hands were shaking uncontrolably, and his breathing quickened. He couldn't possibly keep it under anymore; the forces of the words were running through him, slicing his conscience in ireparable pieces. He knew what that was, he was warned, but at a time when risks didn't matter. Risks never mattered for him. That ancient power that he unleashed, that force that people were thinking he was using for playing tricks and lifting things without moving, it was meeting with his mind, his control center. His soul. It was trying to gain power over him. Anger did that sometimes, he knew, but never ... never this.
"You should ... leave." he whispered, his words barely to be heard, as he felt water running down his face.
"Those can't be tears" he thought, or at least the still present part of him did. The rest was sunk in the melting under rivers of his other self, of his poisoned self.
"We shall talk again, you ungrateful brat." Odin muttered with coruage, but Loki knew from the crack in his father's voice that the God suspected something wrong.
The steps distanted, and Loki stared with blurry eyes at the ground beneath him, his hearth pouding heavy and his head even heavier. He kept on breathing slowly untill it all went away, and even full moments after he could barely move. He was frozen from fear; paralyzed.
"It's all gone now. I'm ... I'm fine. Father's fine ... everything's just fine." he said to himself.
Loki covered his head in his hands and took a few more deep breaths before he started sobbing.

Sif ☽☸☾

She couldn't simply believe it -him-. Thor, God of Thunder, Future King of Asgard, and also the boy she undressed when she was no more than five. He was there, the same person and yet a completely another one. His blonde golden hair didn't change, nor did his gathering eyes, but the similarities stopped there. He was ... other. His way of speaking, the way his looks neither insisted nor ignored her ... what changed him? Could it be just the time? The days and nights passed for her too, but she remained the same perseverent girl, clumsy in dance and dresses, always ready to take a sword or a book in her arms. "Did he see that? And if he did, did he like it?" She shook her head, looking down at her hands and then in the empty dinner room. He excused himself no less than half an hour ago, but she stayed there in full silence and recaping their conversation. "Like a foolish maiden waiting for her prince." Sif hissed and bit her lip. "I'm not that girl. I won't - can't - be." She got off the table and went out as she continued to shake her head in disdain. "No, I won't let myself be another fooled giggling maiden that falls in the Asgard's brothers tricks. He's not much different from Loki, his elder sibbling."
Sif remembered the Raven Prince as she saw him the first time when she returned home -couple of months ago- and how hard she fell for him. She would've followed him everywhere. And she won't let that happen again - the next man she'll ever look up to would be one that'd kiss the ground she steps on. And the thunderer, with his sweet smile and his name moaned in both Asgard and Midgard, was surely not that man.
She couldn't, for sure, deny his appearence or his apparently good manners. Her mind was a tangled web of interdictions and what ifs as she was crossing the castle's yards. There was nothing around her - everything was silent and dormant after the last night's feast, and her steps sounded much more heavier and important. All of a sudden, Sif saw a dark silhouette which the girl knew too well. "Graces, he's everywhere. I can't escape his ghost, the flutter of his coal-like hair or his devilish chuckle."
But when Loki turned to face her, he was surely neither fluttering his hair nor laughing, and Sif almost stopped and felt tempted to turn around and pretend nothing was seen.
"Come on now, dear, I don't plan on hurting you." the trickster replied with the same mocking voice, but she could sense the tiredness behind it.
Sif tighten her jaw and aproached him as her hands were nervously tapping her leg.
"What happened to you, some readhead demi-goddess decided to tire the two kind of thirst you often have?" the girl asked with contempt in her apparently calm voice. Loki Odinson rolled his eyes and made a subtile attempt to get up - which he failed. Sif looked down, trying to seem like she didn't notice.
"If you are to think that one of the Asgard's brothers drank too much, you clearly got the wrong one."
The girl slightly opened her lips and raised one eyebrow, straightening her head.
"And what do you mean by that?"
The trickster smirked and winked at her - and even in that litteraly low position, he seemed ready to take it over, making Sif unsure about either taking one step back either forward. He seemed so ... helpless. Like he needed someone. "Fuck, no. No. Two bloody Gods is way too much even for you. Stop it."
She was about to leave, deciding that whatever happened to the Raven Prince was sure brought upon him by himself and himself only, when she saw it.
"Loki..." she started mumbling, leaning closer to the trickster as she held her breath. "Loki, your eyes are bleeding."
He muttered a curse and winced in something close related to pain as he got up and whiped the blood.
"Yeah, that usually happens." Loki whispered in both irony and sincerity, as he cleared his velvet trousers of sand and ran a hand through his smooth hair. "And I'll most likely apreciate if you'd keep it to yourself and your bedroom fantasies - how the poor, gorgeous, Loki was hurt and needed help."
The girl pursed her lips but somehow remained silent. With a casual nod, he distanced, and the trickster was probably couple of steps away when Sif found the courage to speak out.
"What on the Graces' corpses have you gotten yourself into?"
The Raven Prince only half turned to her, and his black eyes seemed even wider and deeper with traces of fresh blood under them.
"A game." he whispered, his hands and lips both trembling and shaking. "It's always a game."