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yami_no_kaibaTitle: A Side To You That I Never Knew
Author: Yami no Kaiba
Fandom: Thor
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Thor/Loki
Length: 1,482 words
Summary: Five times Thor wished Loki wasn't his brother and one he did.
Disclaimers: I do not own the characters or the concepts of Thor in any of its forms.
Note: Prompt from norsekink on Livejournal. And I like mixing comic, movie, and myth together. You are forewarned.
*---5---*
When Father and Mother brought him to see his new baby brother, Thor loved Low-key at first sight, he really did. From his tiny flailing fists, to his unique name that reminded Thor of music, Thor loved everything about the baby.
But as time went on, things changed about the palace, and Thor slowly started to resent Low-key. Mother doted on the baby day and night, always rushing off in a swirl of skirts to the crib at every little cry.
For weeks this continued, until one night he finally snapped as Mother's head swiveled away from the bedtime story she'd been reading him to the doorway that connected his room to the nursery.
Crossing his arms as Mother stood up from her seat beside his bed, he screwed up his face in the fiercest look he knew. "I wish he'd never been born. All he does is cry!"
Mother's head swiveled just as fast to catch him in a look that immediately had him ducking his head and blushing. "Thor! That is no way to speak about your little brother!"
Chastised, Thor nodded meekly, and Mother left the room to the now quite room next door.
That Low-key never cried out again, only made the shame worse.
*---4---*
The first day Loki was finally allowed to join Thor and the rest of the noble children in arms practice was a failure beyond words, and the accompanying jeers Thor heard his friends make burned his ears.
Loki's skinny arms visibly trembled, too weak to keep the tip of the dull-edged practice sword from wavering in the air. The instructor, an old scarred man who put more importance into his muscles than his appearance, growled and swiped hard and fast at the boy with the flat of the blade.
That Loki dropped his sword in order to duck the harsh blow instead of meeting steel to steel, brought shouts of weakling from the small audience that had gathered. That Loki then scrambled ungracefully away, ducking and dodging and running about the ring instead of retrieving his weapon and fighting back raised the insults from weakling to the level of coward. Similar ill curses were shouted to the winds, when Loki dropped and slid between the wide planted legs of an elder warrior, and started running between the spectators.
Embarrassed to the extreme at his brother's poor showing, Thor turned about and returned to his rooms.
Closing the door firmly behind him, safe and knowing he was alone, Thor growled deep and let curses of his own rend the air. Tossing his scabbard covered sword to the floor, he threw himself onto his bed and punched his pillows repeatedly.
Surely such a weak, cowardly person like Loki couldn't be his brother.
*---3---*
"You should have been a girl," Thor blurted, and flinched at how fast the joy on Loki's face was replaced with a blankness only Father's ire could instill upon it. The small, self-feeding fire in Loki's hand flared and went out. "Loki, I didn't mean -"
"You did," Loki interrupted, oh-so flat compared to the wonder it had been infused with but moments ago as the smaller boy had run up to him. "That it's something you'd rather not have said aloud does not negate that you mean it, Thor."
Silence grew between them, as Thor could not refute that truth with anything but a lie.
Because to Thor's thinking, things would have been so much easier if Loki had just been his little sister. Mage-craft was a gift for girls. You never heard any stories of good, heroic male mages and wizards when the adults were in their cups.
Loki's cold green eyes stared deep, bringing heat as hot as the extinguished fire to Thor's ear and cheeks before the other boy turned on his heel and walked away.
*---2---*
The first time Thor and his friends saw the lithe, pale-skinned beauty with hair as black and lustrous as obsidian and eyes the color of fresh spring leaves after a morning shower, Thor knew what the word lust meant.
When green eyes looked up shyly to return their gaze to sandaled, petite feet, and a soft, musical voice answered his question with, "It's Rika, sire," he knew what wonder was.
When further meetings and coaxing talks during strolls about the kingdom's various monuments and gardens revealed a quick tongue and knowledgeable mind, Thor knew what it meant to be in love.
A few star filled nights in a field of grass beyond the city's walls led to things Thor would never speak of in detail to anyone on pain of death, and he learned what it was to long for every minute with another.
All of it fell apart in heated words and an angry slap to a pale cheek in the aftermath of a dark elf ambush, Thor and Loki standing in the midst of smoking corpses.
For nights to come in a lonely bed, Thor could only toss and turn, mind tumbling with Loki's only words that night;
"I wished to give you what you wanted."
*---1---*
Flaxen hair sheered away. Sif's soulful tears. Anger and righteous fury shoving his brother - no, this spiteful, jealous creature - against the wall and threatening to break all his bones if he does not fix this now.
Turbulent green eyes shifting to pained brightness, sneering mouth softening for a gasp as curved bone caves and snaps. A silver tongue spins promises and plans in a desperate fright that dampens the sea of red. Strong, wiry arms give way and the creature slides to the ground.
A skinny, lanky form once well known slips out of the chambers, battered and injured, to make a dangerous journey alone in restitution for a childish crime.
The flicker of a thought to follow and protect is extinguished as hairless Sif seeks reassurance in his embrace.
*---0---*
Rune carved chips of bone rise and dance, glowing each with an inner light unlike the other. Familiar green eyes are narrowed, hard with focus and determination as ancient, blood chilling words slip past smiling lips and white teeth. Lithe fingered hands draw lines of magic into the very air leaving behind a steadily heavier weight of power with every finished design.
Thor, knees shattered, Mjolnir dropped out of reach and therefore irretrievable by its own governing magics, can only watch and cry out among his fallen mortal comrades as his once-brother, the weakest and most cowardly of all the Aesir of Asgard, stands the ground Thor himself could not keep.
The demon hordes of Hell clamber and screech and pound on the wavering shields his brother has erected about them all, shimmering like a blown soap bubble in the sooty air. Mephisto's cloaked figure hovers in the air above, glowing eyes narrowed as he attempts to use promises of rewards and reminders of lost battles to fatally distract Loki from his incantations.
But the Liesmith would not be fooled by the Prince of Lies, and with a final clap of his hands, a shouted unknowable word that froze every body of water within a ten mile radius, rune carved bone shattered and the invisible weight of magic power contracted and exploded like a newly born star, radiating power and light as it raced away from its epicenter.
Every demon that the wave made contact with shrieked and turned to ash. Mephisto alone was spared, but not uninjured as he shouted threats and curses at Loki while using the tattered strips of his power to open a portal back to Hell.
Hard green eyes softened as the last edge of the blood red cloak slipped away. Hands that had been so steady trembled as knees gave way.
"Why?" Thor whispered, attracting those green eyes and sneering lips.
"I'd be a fool to pass up the chance to outshine the Might Thor." Green eyes looked away, poisonous words turning soft and thoughtful enough that Thor had to strain to hear. "Such a stupid thing to do. Mephisto may love a bargain, but he never forgets a slight. Even of the smallest kind."
"Brother -" Warmly spoken, and stopped short as the other's muscles shuddered and tensed, hard eyes turning upon him.
"I am NOT your brother! We were never brothers!" shouted with all the might an immortal's lungs could give uttered words. "I am Loki, son of no one, brother of no one! And one day soon, I will end you and that filthy thief of babes you call a father!" An angry wave of his pale hand and with a puff of smoke he was as gone from the field of battle as Mephisto.
And Thor, knees broken, could do naught but mangle broken steel and concrete in his frustrated fists as tears of loss slipped down his cheeks.
Author: Yami no Kaiba
Fandom: Thor
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Thor/Loki
Length: 1,482 words
Summary: Five times Thor wished Loki wasn't his brother and one he did.
Disclaimers: I do not own the characters or the concepts of Thor in any of its forms.
Note: Prompt from norsekink on Livejournal. And I like mixing comic, movie, and myth together. You are forewarned.
*---5---*
When Father and Mother brought him to see his new baby brother, Thor loved Low-key at first sight, he really did. From his tiny flailing fists, to his unique name that reminded Thor of music, Thor loved everything about the baby.
But as time went on, things changed about the palace, and Thor slowly started to resent Low-key. Mother doted on the baby day and night, always rushing off in a swirl of skirts to the crib at every little cry.
For weeks this continued, until one night he finally snapped as Mother's head swiveled away from the bedtime story she'd been reading him to the doorway that connected his room to the nursery.
Crossing his arms as Mother stood up from her seat beside his bed, he screwed up his face in the fiercest look he knew. "I wish he'd never been born. All he does is cry!"
Mother's head swiveled just as fast to catch him in a look that immediately had him ducking his head and blushing. "Thor! That is no way to speak about your little brother!"
Chastised, Thor nodded meekly, and Mother left the room to the now quite room next door.
That Low-key never cried out again, only made the shame worse.
*---4---*
The first day Loki was finally allowed to join Thor and the rest of the noble children in arms practice was a failure beyond words, and the accompanying jeers Thor heard his friends make burned his ears.
Loki's skinny arms visibly trembled, too weak to keep the tip of the dull-edged practice sword from wavering in the air. The instructor, an old scarred man who put more importance into his muscles than his appearance, growled and swiped hard and fast at the boy with the flat of the blade.
That Loki dropped his sword in order to duck the harsh blow instead of meeting steel to steel, brought shouts of weakling from the small audience that had gathered. That Loki then scrambled ungracefully away, ducking and dodging and running about the ring instead of retrieving his weapon and fighting back raised the insults from weakling to the level of coward. Similar ill curses were shouted to the winds, when Loki dropped and slid between the wide planted legs of an elder warrior, and started running between the spectators.
Embarrassed to the extreme at his brother's poor showing, Thor turned about and returned to his rooms.
Closing the door firmly behind him, safe and knowing he was alone, Thor growled deep and let curses of his own rend the air. Tossing his scabbard covered sword to the floor, he threw himself onto his bed and punched his pillows repeatedly.
Surely such a weak, cowardly person like Loki couldn't be his brother.
*---3---*
"You should have been a girl," Thor blurted, and flinched at how fast the joy on Loki's face was replaced with a blankness only Father's ire could instill upon it. The small, self-feeding fire in Loki's hand flared and went out. "Loki, I didn't mean -"
"You did," Loki interrupted, oh-so flat compared to the wonder it had been infused with but moments ago as the smaller boy had run up to him. "That it's something you'd rather not have said aloud does not negate that you mean it, Thor."
Silence grew between them, as Thor could not refute that truth with anything but a lie.
Because to Thor's thinking, things would have been so much easier if Loki had just been his little sister. Mage-craft was a gift for girls. You never heard any stories of good, heroic male mages and wizards when the adults were in their cups.
Loki's cold green eyes stared deep, bringing heat as hot as the extinguished fire to Thor's ear and cheeks before the other boy turned on his heel and walked away.
*---2---*
The first time Thor and his friends saw the lithe, pale-skinned beauty with hair as black and lustrous as obsidian and eyes the color of fresh spring leaves after a morning shower, Thor knew what the word lust meant.
When green eyes looked up shyly to return their gaze to sandaled, petite feet, and a soft, musical voice answered his question with, "It's Rika, sire," he knew what wonder was.
When further meetings and coaxing talks during strolls about the kingdom's various monuments and gardens revealed a quick tongue and knowledgeable mind, Thor knew what it meant to be in love.
A few star filled nights in a field of grass beyond the city's walls led to things Thor would never speak of in detail to anyone on pain of death, and he learned what it was to long for every minute with another.
All of it fell apart in heated words and an angry slap to a pale cheek in the aftermath of a dark elf ambush, Thor and Loki standing in the midst of smoking corpses.
For nights to come in a lonely bed, Thor could only toss and turn, mind tumbling with Loki's only words that night;
"I wished to give you what you wanted."
*---1---*
Flaxen hair sheered away. Sif's soulful tears. Anger and righteous fury shoving his brother - no, this spiteful, jealous creature - against the wall and threatening to break all his bones if he does not fix this now.
Turbulent green eyes shifting to pained brightness, sneering mouth softening for a gasp as curved bone caves and snaps. A silver tongue spins promises and plans in a desperate fright that dampens the sea of red. Strong, wiry arms give way and the creature slides to the ground.
A skinny, lanky form once well known slips out of the chambers, battered and injured, to make a dangerous journey alone in restitution for a childish crime.
The flicker of a thought to follow and protect is extinguished as hairless Sif seeks reassurance in his embrace.
*---0---*
Rune carved chips of bone rise and dance, glowing each with an inner light unlike the other. Familiar green eyes are narrowed, hard with focus and determination as ancient, blood chilling words slip past smiling lips and white teeth. Lithe fingered hands draw lines of magic into the very air leaving behind a steadily heavier weight of power with every finished design.
Thor, knees shattered, Mjolnir dropped out of reach and therefore irretrievable by its own governing magics, can only watch and cry out among his fallen mortal comrades as his once-brother, the weakest and most cowardly of all the Aesir of Asgard, stands the ground Thor himself could not keep.
The demon hordes of Hell clamber and screech and pound on the wavering shields his brother has erected about them all, shimmering like a blown soap bubble in the sooty air. Mephisto's cloaked figure hovers in the air above, glowing eyes narrowed as he attempts to use promises of rewards and reminders of lost battles to fatally distract Loki from his incantations.
But the Liesmith would not be fooled by the Prince of Lies, and with a final clap of his hands, a shouted unknowable word that froze every body of water within a ten mile radius, rune carved bone shattered and the invisible weight of magic power contracted and exploded like a newly born star, radiating power and light as it raced away from its epicenter.
Every demon that the wave made contact with shrieked and turned to ash. Mephisto alone was spared, but not uninjured as he shouted threats and curses at Loki while using the tattered strips of his power to open a portal back to Hell.
Hard green eyes softened as the last edge of the blood red cloak slipped away. Hands that had been so steady trembled as knees gave way.
"Why?" Thor whispered, attracting those green eyes and sneering lips.
"I'd be a fool to pass up the chance to outshine the Might Thor." Green eyes looked away, poisonous words turning soft and thoughtful enough that Thor had to strain to hear. "Such a stupid thing to do. Mephisto may love a bargain, but he never forgets a slight. Even of the smallest kind."
"Brother -" Warmly spoken, and stopped short as the other's muscles shuddered and tensed, hard eyes turning upon him.
"I am NOT your brother! We were never brothers!" shouted with all the might an immortal's lungs could give uttered words. "I am Loki, son of no one, brother of no one! And one day soon, I will end you and that filthy thief of babes you call a father!" An angry wave of his pale hand and with a puff of smoke he was as gone from the field of battle as Mephisto.
And Thor, knees broken, could do naught but mangle broken steel and concrete in his frustrated fists as tears of loss slipped down his cheeks.
