Asgardians

Asgard is a beautiful place. It is full of turrets and towers of smooth gold, silver and stone. There a courtyards and squares where people jostle and gather, drawn from their villas to walk the gilded streets. They wave to the ravens that swoop by above and fly swiftly back to their master, ready to report the doing of every living thing they see, and many none living things too.

Midgardians may think of it as futuristic for the smooth architecture or historic for the fashion of the people and customs. It is timeless though. It has not changed for a very long time, and does not intend to start now. It does not like change.

That was the only rule here: no change.

Unfortunately, change seemed to be the only thing Loki was good at. They liked to cause trouble, create some kind of interuption to the tedious routine of it all.

They changed too. They had begun to notice it more now, but it had always been there, they had just never known they to express it. Maybe it was discovering their shapeshifting powers that had shown them.

Sometimes they found it was a female appaerance that was most comfortable. Sometimes it was a male appearance. Sometimes it was neither, or a mix.

Today...

They weren't sure yet - they weren't nearly awake enough to be sure yet.

"Wake up, brother," shouted someone, Thor.

A blazing light suddenly engulfed them and they pulled the sheets up over their head as their brother pulled the curtains wide.

"Why?" They groaned.

They ignored the word 'brother'. They had not tried to explain themselves to Thor yet. In fact, the only person who knew was their mother, Freya. For now, they wanted it to stay that way. Asgard had some... strict ideas about gender roles. Sif had had to fight tooth and nail to get even the modicum of respect she had now, and being the prince's friend was probably a major point in her success. Loki respected her for it, but they did not yet feel ready to start their own battle.

"Because it's a beautiful day and father says we must train," replied Thor.

He threw the window wide and let the cool breeze waft through. It always smelt like a mixture of the sea and the soldiers that trained in the courtyard directly below Loki's window.

Loki just pulled the covers tighter arround him and muttered something unflattering about his father.

"Come on," insisted Thor, "The others are already waiting, you can't just lie here all day."

There was a hard tug on the covers and Loki held on tightly as they were pulled of the bed.
They landed in an undignified heap on the hard, wooden flaws of their room.

"Fine, fine," they grumbled, "let me get dressed, I'll join you in a minute."

Thor smiled brightly and left the room.

Loki remained on the floor with their sheets wrapped arround them, but they sat up and glared after Thor.

When he was gone, they ran their fingers through their hair and looked at themselves in the mirror on their wall. The person who stared back was not quite them. Looking thoughtfully at their reflection for a moment, they allowed an illusion to manifest arround them.

Altering herself too much would raise questions, but she allowed enough magic to creep up that she felt moderately comfortable with her appearance.

Wondering over to her wardrobe, she chose out the most feminine fighting clothes had. Really it was just the same as the masculine clothes, but her mother had helped her change them slightly so they pinched in a little more at the waist. Together they had also stitched in some embroidery in the fashion of little animals and plants arround the seams. It was not much, but it helped a bit. Someday, her mother always said, Loki would be able to wear whatever she wanted to and not have to worry about others opinions, but for now she just had to make do.

Combing her hair and tieing it in a pony tail, she glanced once more at herself in the mirror before grabbing her spear and darting out the door.

"That was more than a minute," commented her brother.

"Yes, some people actually care about how they look," she sniped back.

Thor just laughed and began to walk down the stairs. Loki slid herself up on to the banister and glided down.

Sif and the warriors three, as they liked to call themselves, were waiting at the bottom, all in armour and holding their weapons.

"What took you so long, Loki," sneered Fandral, "Were you covers to heavy, or did you stop to put on make up?"

Before Loki could answer, Thor stepped between them.

"Are we going to stand here stand here all day, or are we going to fight?" He asked.

They all laughed and followed him out into the courtyard where the song of metal on metal was already echoing.

Loki followed with a little more distance. She had never been one for physical fights, and the others were all stronger than her.

Thor and Fandral were alreading sparring by the time she got out, as were Hogun and Volstagg. Sif was looking at her expectantly, sword in hand.

Loki sighed and lifted her spear. If only magic was allowed in physical fights. She could win with words and illusions any day, but that was considered cheating in a fight like this. It was also considered a very girlish move for some reason, following whatever stigma it was that all witches were female, presumably.

They exchanged a quick flurry of blows. Sif fought feircely and fast so it was all Loki could do to attempt to deffend herself while Sif forced her slowly back.

Eventually Sif stuck her foot out, catching Loki off guard and sending her tripping to the floor.

She placed her sword on her chest, but she looked displeased.

"You weren't even trying," she said, irritably, offering her hand to help Loki up.

Loki just shrugged and wondered how long she had to stay before she was allowed to see her mother for magic lessons. Her father would be annoyed if she didn't spend any time practising with them, but then, her father was almost always annoyed at her for something, so it couldn't do much harm.