Chapter 2

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Loki’s P.O.V (Thirs person)

“Loki.” Thor’s voice boomed through the private library, echoing. Loki had hidden himself there for hours, attempting to master a new spell. The master of magic had surpassed his original teachers, his mother and private tutors, and needed to be learning at least a dozen spells a day.

“Yes brother?” Thor rarely came looking for him when he was immersed in his studies. Loki hated being disturbed, and thought he seemed to be the embodiment of calm, he was wondering what his brother was thinking disturbing him.

“Father wishes to see us. It appears…we have a strange visitor in Asgard.” Thor ran a hand through his hair. Loki put his book down, and got up from the desk he was sitting at. “A visitor? Is that a polite way of referring to a criminal?” If he kept following the sound of Thor’s replies, he would find him.

“I do not know what status this visitor is. Father will not give any detail yet.” Loki had found Thor at the entrance of the library. He smoothed his trousers and his long leather vest. Had he known his father was going to summon him he would have not started his studies.

“Well I’m sure father will inform us.” They started down the hall, their boots echoing. “The halls are emptier than usual.” Loki thought aloud. The servants weren’t hurrying around like usual. It was getting later into the evening, and the servants should be preparing for their work tomorrow.

“They are most likely spreading the news of the visitor. You know how servants spread news.”

“Remind me to have a little fun with their grape-vine method.”

“Fun? Brother, if you wish for fun come join us in the training grounds. It would do you some good, and we can see who is the strongest of us.”

“You know as well as I do brother, the only one who would enjoy such a battle would be you.” Loki’s voice was cold. Thor was a being who loved war and celebration. He would love nothing more than to prove to Loki why he was truly the rightful king.

“Well brother, maybe it would do you will to master more weaponry. The axe maybe?” Thor laughed. Oaf Loki thought darkly. When I hex Mjölnir to disappear each time you choose to wield it, then we’ll see who laughs.

“The axe is messier and harder to aim. Throwing knives are simple to use, easy to carry and conceal. You can predict an axe being thrown. It is no wonder Volstag uses his fists in battle.”

“Brother, I jest with you. Do not take me for a fool. You are a fine fighter. I have not once needed to come to your rescue in battle.” Loki laughed, his light mood returning. He may be jealous of Thor sometimes, but in the end, Thor was his brother. “Well brother, I might just challenge you to impress the Lady Sif.” Loki scoffed.

“Again with Sif?” Thor had always had a soft spot for Sif. Loki had also harboured secret emotions for her, but had refrained when he had met Sigyn. He would have to talk to Thor about women and marriage. It was not all joy and blessings. Women are difficult and stubborn beings. He had read once in a Midgardian text, called the Bible, of women having hearts of nets and snares. How true. Sigyn, Sif and any other women are the same. Except mother, of course.

They had arrived in front of the throne room doors, where their father was requesting their presence. The doors opened and the brothers walked in side by side, like always. They were equal in their father’s eyes, though Loki knew his father preferred Thor, the warrior. Odin sat on in throne in all his glory, with Frigga on the steps. They were in deep conversation, and did not hear their sons enter the room.

“But Odin, she is a child! We cannot send her back!” Frigga was indignant. She was thinking more like a mother than a queen.

“I cannot make a decision just yet Frigga. I must know of her origins. I think I know them, it seems quite obvious. No Midgardian child could have called to Heimdall-”

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