Snake
The princes were trained rigorously in combat. They were expected to be proficient in every weapon from axes to arrows. Loki found himself drawn to daggers and throwing knives. They fit nicely in his hands and were suited to his preferred strategy of quick and close. They didn’t require the long, slow strokes of a sword. They weren’t heavy. He could change his attack mid strike if he so chose. They were the perfect opponent for his brother who did favor the heavier weapons. Thor was strong, able to confidently swing his sword. Loki got good at dodging through their duels. Thor’s one weakness was his inability or unwillingness to choose a strategy. There was no plan behind his strikes, no goal but to make contact. Loki’s only possible avenue of winning was to use the brain his brother supposedly lacked. He learned to predict his brother’s next move before it was made and figure out the most advantageous counter. At least in combat, they were equals.
The brothers were messing around one day after lessons. At eight years old they weren’t supposed to spar without supervision, but Loki had managed to convince Thor that it would be fine. And it was fun, clashing blades and running around the sparring ring. They had come up with a game. Loki was a monster for his brother to vanquish. Thor begged him to be a frost giant because taking one of them down was impressive. Loki refused and was instead pretending to be a dark elf from the stories their mother told.
“I banish you from Asgard!” Thor roared delightedly, waving his sword.
Loki giggled as he blocked Thor’s swing. “You can’t defeat me!” he shouted. He skipped backwards, eyes on his brother instead of the ground. He lost his footing and clumsily stumbled to the side, nearly falling. Thor’s next strike sliced through his bicep.
Loki cried out. For a moment he was aware of nothing but stinging pain. Blood soaked his sleeve. And then the world came crashing back.
Thor was frozen, eyes fixed on the red staining Loki’s arm. “I’ll get Father,” he managed and raced off to find help. He left his sword on the sandy ground.
Sand to soak up blood. Loki hadn’t put two and two together before. He waited for his big brother to come back, staring at the rusty patch of dirt. What if he bled out? His eyes burned from the strain of holding back his tears. He did not want his father.
When Thor reappeared, the blood had traveled farther down Loki’s sleeve. Thor dragged their mother by her hand. Their father followed behind with a stern scowl that made Loki want to disappear. He shrank into himself, trying to minimize his presence. He silently prayed that his father's disgrace did not fall on him. Thor’s face was scrunched up in his own attempt to keep from crying, but his efforts were unsuccessful and tear tracks glistened on his cheeks.
Upon sighting Loki, Frigga pulled her hand from Thor’s and ran the rest of the way across the ring. “Loki,” she gasped when she reached him, turning him to the side to inspect his arm. “You’ll be alright,” she promised. She pressed her hand to the wound and Loki felt the soothing cold of his mother’s golden magic begin to heal him.
“It didn’t hurt,” he lied.
His mother smiled. “How strong and tough you are.”
Loki puffed out his chest at the praise. He glanced quickly at his father to see if he heard. If he had he wasn’t impressed, and Loki deflated.
“I’m sorry, Loki,” Thor sniffled. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”
Loki was about to tell him that it was alright and that he forgave him, but Odin’s harsh voice cut through, “You have been told not to play with weapons, Thor. Not without an adult present.” His eyes held disappointment. His was the kind of gaze even the toughest warriors cracked under.
Thor was by no means a seasoned warrior. “Loki made me!” he cried, new tears flooding his eyes, “It was his idea! I didn’t want to!”
Loki gaped at his brother in cold shock. He hadn’t made Thor do anything. He had suggested they continue sparring. If Thor knew how to handle a sword, none of this would have happened. “I did not!” he protested, but it was too late. Odin had already decided Loki was to blame, and he much preferred that narrative over his heir being in the wrong.
“Loki, you know the rules. You may not talk others into breaking them. Princes act better.” The weight of Odin’s gaze had Loki bowing his head, studying the floor rather than meeting his father’s eyes. “I expect better.”
“Yes, Father." Outrage festered in his stomach. So much for sibling loyalty. Of course he would be made the villain. Of course Thor had to make himself look better in front of their father. He fixed his glare on his brother who had the decency to look ashamed. It wasn’t fair.
Odin banned Loki from training for the next month as an extra punishment. Loki was frozen with his frustration. Now he would fall behind and Thor would surpass him in everything. He already had to work harder to keep up with his brother. Thor was so much bigger than him and magic was looked down upon in an honorable duel. The one thing that would let him win every time was stripped away in the ring.
As if that and a sliced bicep wasn’t enough, Loki was sent to his room for the rest of the night. Thor got away with a simple promise not to do it again. It wasn’t fair. His mother smiled apologetically, but she did nothing to stop it.
Alone in his room and choking on bitter anger that turned his insides to ice, Loki planned his revenge.
The next day Thor had already forgotten the previous night’s incident. Of course it had been of no consequence to him so why should he remember? He and his friends ran through the palace and into the royal gardens, playing whatever game they had come up with without the second prince. Loki watched, jealousy chilling his stomach. He forced himself to smile. Soon his brother wouldn’t be so happy. Their father would never punish perfect Thor. It was up to Loki to make things fair. He gripped his blade, the instrument of his justice, tightly in both hands.
Loki’s plan was simple and brilliant. He began to shift, letting his form melt and take another. He became a snake. Thor loved snakes. He always picked them up once he determined they weren’t venomous. Loki made sure to keep his head round. His scales were an unpatterned black. Nothing about him screamed danger. Not in the snake world. If snakes could laugh Loki would have been. This would be a good trick.
He slithered from his hiding space and into the garden. It was hard to get around without legs, he discovered. It took quite a bit of focus to make sure his movements remained fluid and snake-like. Loki managed to glide roughly in the direction of his brother.
“Oh, Thor!” Sif squealed. She was the first to notice Loki in the grass.
The others turned to look. Volstagg’s panicked stumble backwards was almost enough to cause Loki to break character. Hogun steadied his friend before he fell over.
“It’s just a snake,” Sif shamed him, though she didn’t look particularly comfortable herself.
“My dog got bit by one once. It was bad,” Volstagg defended himself, “I’m not risking it.”
“It’s okay!” Thor told them, “It’s not venomous. It’s just a garden snake, practically harmless.” He approached excitedly, just as Loki had hoped.
“Oh don’t-” Sif groaned, despite her earlier bravado, as Thor stooped to grab the harmless snake.
Loki waited until Thor had lifted him from the ground to shift back and spring out of his brother’s hands. He shouted nonsense at the top of his lungs, blade flashing. The gathered kids screamed, scrambling away and falling over themselves. Thor grunted as cold metal met flesh. Loki stepped away calmly, satisfied with his work. The scales were balanced again, as far as he was concerned. He wiped blood from his knife into the grass.
“Loki!” Sif shrieked, “You absolute meanie!”
Loki laughed but maybe the words hurt a little bit. “Maybe you shouldn’t give up looking for me during hide and seek.”
“We’re sorry, you just hide so well. We can’t find you,” Volstagg begged for forgiveness.
Loki was about to give it to him when Hogun interrupted.
“I don’t think Thor’s okay,” he said, worry in his voice.
Loki glanced down at his suspiciously silent brother. Thor hadn’t moved from the ground, folded over himself and breathing like it hurt. “Thor,” he said, dropping into a crouch beside him. He reached out and tried to pull Thor into a sitting position. His brother whimpered at the movement. Loki glimpsed a dark stain across his stomach, hidden by crossed arms.
Fear was a bucket of ice over Loki’s head. He had gone too far. Thor was hurt. Badly. He sprang to his feet, the voices of the other kids a muffled roar in the back of his mind. Loki ran from the garden. His magic crackled in response to his panic, shattering nearby vases and mirrors.
“Mother!” He shouted mentally, reaching out with his magic as far as he could. He searched for Frigga’s soothing presence.
He slammed into another body. A hand steadied him. He looked up and found his mother’s face. Loki almost sobbed in relief, but he held it in. “Thor!” he cried, “Hurt! In the garden! We were playing.”
Frigga ran, leaving him to chase after her.
Loki reached the garden in time to see his brother carried out in their mother’s arms. Frigga’s brows were drawn in concentration and worry. Thor was white as a sheet and still bleeding. Loki was numb to the world as his brother was taken away.
The rest of the day might as well have never happened. Loki couldn’t remember a single detail but waiting in crippling anxiety for Thor to return. He didn’t until late that night.
Odin returned Thor to his bed across from Loki’s, laying his son down gently and tucking him in. Loki feigned sleep but he saw the look his father shot him from across the dark room. Cold and hateful. It chilled Loki to see it and he was glad his father thought him asleep. Odin left, but the chill lingered.
“Loki?” Thor whispered groggily in the dark.
“Thor,” Loki whispered back.
“Why did you stab me?”
Guilt and shame were heavy weights on Loki's chest. “You cut me,” he reminded him, but the excuse sounded weak, even to his ears.
“I didn’t mean to,” Thor whimpered, “I was sorry.”
Loki swallowed the tears that threatened to spill. His throat was thick with them and sore from locking them up. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” He confessed. His voice was small and carried the fear he wished to express but couldn’t. Maybe brothers weren't forever. Maybe they were just as easily lost as anyone else. How could his trick have gone so wrong?
Thor was silent and Loki stared up at the ceiling, suffocating in regret. “I forgive you,” Thor murmured finally.
Loki’s eyes burned. He rolled over so that Thor wouldn’t see if he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He whispered again. The words wobbled and shook. Why was sincerity so unstable? Loki stood suddenly and crawled from his bed. He crossed the room to slide under the blankets with his brother.
“I’m okay,” Thor promised quietly.
Loki hugged him, careful to avoid putting pressure on the wound. He was scared to let go.
Thor may have forgiven him, but to the rest of the world Loki would always be a snake.