crowns and princes, part 2/?
Despite having been told that Loki was moving to the upper palace, Thor still managed to startle himself when he and Loki crashed into each other on the stairs two nights later.
“Loki?” he said, steadying himself against the banister. “What are you doing here?”
This earned him a raised eyebrow. “Going down to my room?”
“Oh. Right.” Now Thor felt a bit foolish for having forgotten; his rooms were upstairs, and Loki’s were doubtless downstairs, in the section not strictly reserved for the royal family. “Are you enjoying your new quarters?”
Loki considered this. “They are quite palatial,” he answered at last.
“Excellent!” Actually, Loki was good with numbers, wasn’t he? He was clever, anyway-too clever for his own good, Thor thought sometimes, but observant and discreet and- “Speaking of which-I’ve been looking for a good man to be my lieutenant-”
“No,” Loki said, quite firmly.
Thor frowned. “You haven’t even heard my offer yet.”
“But I could guess what was coming,” Loki said drily. “Fandral mentioned that you were trying to foist paperwork onto other people. Why don’t you just get a secretary?”
“I need someone I can trust,” Thor said.
“To sign paychecks and requisition forms?”
“You wouldn’t be so flippant about it if your father had lectured you for three hours on the importance of bureaucracy on your fourteenth birthday,” Thor grumbled, and then instantly felt guilty, because Loki had grown up without a father at all. He could have kicked himself. “Forgive me. That was thoughtless.”
Loki shrugged and laid his hand against the banister. “Think nothing of it, then,” he said. “It’s late. We should both be getting to bed.”
His sleeve rode up as he moved; Thor caught a flash of pale skin and slender wrist and-
“What is that?” he demanded.
Loki blinked at him, owlishly, and Thor grabbed his hand before he could move away. Loki’s arm was mottled with bruises, nearly all the way to the elbow, when Thor pushed up the sleeve; some were old and fading, and some were very, very fresh. Thor could feel himself shaking with fury.
“Who did this?” he demanded.
The thing about Loki that he had always understood least was how the other man never got angry-properly angry-about things that were worth getting angry over. Cheating at tournaments or forcing an unwilling woman or abusing servants-that was the sort of thing that made Thor’s blood boil, that went against everything he had ever learned about chivalry or virtue, and Loki only ever shrugged and said, philosophically, that such was the way of the world; it was even worse now, because it was Loki with bruises all up his arm, and he was still just standing there, instead of telling Thor who had done this so that he could go beat the bastard’s face in.
Thor said as much, and Loki tilted his head to regard him, and wondered: “Beat his face in? Really?”
“Yes,” Thor growled. He wanted to shake him. How could Loki be so calm about this? “Who was it? Tell me!”
Loki turned his arm. Thor didn’t let go, but he could feel the bones of his wrist twisting beneath his hand-Loki had always been thin, even as a boy. He had stolen food from Thor’s plate at the grand festivals when they were both younger; Thor had always let him. Being crown prince, back then, had been about as dull as being his father’s cupbearer.
“Tell me,” he said again.
“But Thor,” Loki said, chiding, as though they were boys again, at lessons. “You cannot go about picking fights with just anyone, you know.”
“I’m the crown prince and the mightiest of Odin’s warriors,” Thor snapped, his patience fraying at Loki’s games when this was so important. “I think I can go about picking fights with whomever I want, especially when there is such good reason.”
“Good reason?”
He did shake him, this time. “They hurt you!”
“Mm,” Loki said. “A trick of the light, I’m sure.”
Thor glanced down.
The bruises were gone.
“Very funny,” he said.
“Ha, ha,” Loki said politely, and pulled away. He shook his sleeves down again, bowed, smoothed down his hair. “Good night, Your Highness. I look forward to seeing you drill tomorrow.”
Thor stared. Loki brushed past him and went on his way down the stairs, as though nothing was wrong at all.
“Who are you trying to protect?” he shouted after him.
But the stairwell was already empty.
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part 3 here
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“Loki?” he said, steadying himself against the banister. “What are you doing here?”
This earned him a raised eyebrow. “Going down to my room?”
“Oh. Right.” Now Thor felt a bit foolish for having forgotten; his rooms were upstairs, and Loki’s were doubtless downstairs, in the section not strictly reserved for the royal family. “Are you enjoying your new quarters?”
Loki considered this. “They are quite palatial,” he answered at last.
“Excellent!” Actually, Loki was good with numbers, wasn’t he? He was clever, anyway-too clever for his own good, Thor thought sometimes, but observant and discreet and- “Speaking of which-I’ve been looking for a good man to be my lieutenant-”
“No,” Loki said, quite firmly.
Thor frowned. “You haven’t even heard my offer yet.”
“But I could guess what was coming,” Loki said drily. “Fandral mentioned that you were trying to foist paperwork onto other people. Why don’t you just get a secretary?”
“I need someone I can trust,” Thor said.
“To sign paychecks and requisition forms?”
“You wouldn’t be so flippant about it if your father had lectured you for three hours on the importance of bureaucracy on your fourteenth birthday,” Thor grumbled, and then instantly felt guilty, because Loki had grown up without a father at all. He could have kicked himself. “Forgive me. That was thoughtless.”
Loki shrugged and laid his hand against the banister. “Think nothing of it, then,” he said. “It’s late. We should both be getting to bed.”
His sleeve rode up as he moved; Thor caught a flash of pale skin and slender wrist and-
“What is that?” he demanded.
Loki blinked at him, owlishly, and Thor grabbed his hand before he could move away. Loki’s arm was mottled with bruises, nearly all the way to the elbow, when Thor pushed up the sleeve; some were old and fading, and some were very, very fresh. Thor could feel himself shaking with fury.
“Who did this?” he demanded.
The thing about Loki that he had always understood least was how the other man never got angry-properly angry-about things that were worth getting angry over. Cheating at tournaments or forcing an unwilling woman or abusing servants-that was the sort of thing that made Thor’s blood boil, that went against everything he had ever learned about chivalry or virtue, and Loki only ever shrugged and said, philosophically, that such was the way of the world; it was even worse now, because it was Loki with bruises all up his arm, and he was still just standing there, instead of telling Thor who had done this so that he could go beat the bastard’s face in.
Thor said as much, and Loki tilted his head to regard him, and wondered: “Beat his face in? Really?”
“Yes,” Thor growled. He wanted to shake him. How could Loki be so calm about this? “Who was it? Tell me!”
Loki turned his arm. Thor didn’t let go, but he could feel the bones of his wrist twisting beneath his hand-Loki had always been thin, even as a boy. He had stolen food from Thor’s plate at the grand festivals when they were both younger; Thor had always let him. Being crown prince, back then, had been about as dull as being his father’s cupbearer.
“Tell me,” he said again.
“But Thor,” Loki said, chiding, as though they were boys again, at lessons. “You cannot go about picking fights with just anyone, you know.”
“I’m the crown prince and the mightiest of Odin’s warriors,” Thor snapped, his patience fraying at Loki’s games when this was so important. “I think I can go about picking fights with whomever I want, especially when there is such good reason.”
“Good reason?”
He did shake him, this time. “They hurt you!”
“Mm,” Loki said. “A trick of the light, I’m sure.”
Thor glanced down.
The bruises were gone.
“Very funny,” he said.
“Ha, ha,” Loki said politely, and pulled away. He shook his sleeves down again, bowed, smoothed down his hair. “Good night, Your Highness. I look forward to seeing you drill tomorrow.”
Thor stared. Loki brushed past him and went on his way down the stairs, as though nothing was wrong at all.
“Who are you trying to protect?” he shouted after him.
But the stairwell was already empty.
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part 3 here
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