Afi

I nervously followed the other boys after the final class of the day. It felt as if I was a prisoner taking my walk to the gallows, accepting what was about to happen, accepting my fate. I may not have been sentenced to death, but it surely felt as if I had. Knowing full well I would likely die on the battlefield.

I followed the group towards the courtyard, where training was held every day. The palace wrapped around the yard, extensive balconies surrounding it. This allowed Odin to keep a keen eye on the boys below, and I knew he would be watching today. Checking in on the most recent soul that had been sold to his army.

I had spoken only once to Odin, being brought to the throne room on the day of my 600^th birthday. He had requested to see me, and I was instructed to ask permission to attend the palace lessons. It was not my right to be taught alongside the upper classes, so it was up to me to prove I was worthy of such an honour. Of course, it was not me who persuaded Odin, his wife Frigga most certainly had something to do with it. Always looking out for me, giving me a cheeky smile and wink when I nervously entered the hall, shaking as I greeted the king. My nervous ramblings would have had me laughed out of any castle, but Frigga had a soft spot for me, and Odin had a soft spot for her. So here I am, I only wish it didn’t come with such high a price.

My daydreaming had distracted me, and as I snapped out of it I realised I was now stood in the locker room, surrounded by boys larger than me, all changing into their armour. My heart started to beat faster, my cluelessness was already obvious, with no armour and no idea where I was supposed to get it. I scanned the room, still stood in front of the door, hoping for some guidance of what to do. The room was divided into quarters by wooden benches, each the length of the room, and I was grateful to find a pile of neatly folded armour on the end of one bench, located on the right side of the room, pushed up against the wall. It was out of the way, giving me a sense of security as I wandered over to it, knowing I was now huddled in a corner hoping to stay out of everyone’s eyesight.

I looked to the boy next to me, one I recognised from my history lessons. I only glanced quickly, hoping for some help on how to dress my new armour correctly. It was a simple breast plate, with leather strings on either side to secure it into place. Underneath the plate, I found a thin cotton shirt, which I assumed was to wear underneath, with trousers made of the same material, only a chestnut brown rather than white. As I inspected the clothes that had been left for me, I realised the changing room was quickly emptying, and I scrambled to get dressed, not wanting to keep Brandt waiting. I did not want to know what he considered a reasonable punishment was.

Luckily, I wasn’t the last out in the courtyard, a few stragglers arrived moments after I did, earning a sneer from Brandt as they lined up with the rest of us. We had been placed in three rows, Thor of course taking his place at the front and if I could see his face, I had no doubt it would hold a smug look. I guessed we had been organised by skill, as I was instructed to join the end of the third line, and the boys next to me were almost as scrawny as I was.

We waited in silence, but I could hear my heartbeat, and as Brandt walked the lines, inspecting everyone individually, I was sure he could hear it. When he finally reached me, he stopped dead in front of me, looking down with a strong glare. I could not read his face, but I imagine whatever he was thinking, it was not positive.

‘Glad to see you join us on time, Afi,’ he said, his deep voice startling me and the boy to my left. I looked up at him, unsure if he wanted a response, but I could not bring myself to make eye contact.

‘I hope you will not cause me too much trouble, I don’t like stragglers. If you have a question, keep it to yourself, this isn’t a classroom, this is real life,’ he told me, a hard lump forming in my throat. And I’m sure I heard giggling from the front row, but no one acknowledged it and Brandt moved on. He strode back to the front of the yard, shouting orders as he did so.

By the end of the warmup, I was already exhausted. The endless running round the courtyard was not an experience I enjoyed; let alone the press-ups we were then ordered to do. I struggled to push myself off the ground, and every time I didn’t get low enough, Brandt ordered me to do an extra 10. I was the last to finish that round of drills, and was on catch up until Brandt finally decided we were warm enough.

My hair was now slick to my face, the sweat dripping down my face and back, and I could feel the dirt stuck to me. I looked a mess, and yet Thor had barely broken a sweat, his hair still flowing and his skin still smooth. I knew it was foolish to compare myself to him, and yet I couldn’t help it.

‘Oh, boy, you do look rough. If you think that was bad, just wait until I get to fight you. You’ll be in much worse shape, at least you’ll get a few days off in the hospital. Although, I would feel awful for the girls having to take care of you, to have to look at your face all day, ugh,’ Thor sneered, a grin growing on his face as he spoke. Sif and Fandrall burst into laughter, stood either side of Thor. I heard other snickers around me, but I was not bothered by those. Thor clearly hadn't taken Loki's threats to heart, and honestly I couldn't blame him. He would never believe that I would stand up to him, magic or otherwise.

I had nothing to say to him. No witty reply came to me, and I knew it was useless to argue back, or ask him to leave me be. I shook my head and turned away from him, walking to the edge of the yard. Brandt had gifted us a small break before we started sword practise, I only hoped we didn’t have to partner up.

‘What’s the matter, pig? Cat got your tongue?’ Thor shouted after me, following quick behind me. I sighed as I leant against a pillar, it was foolish to think he would leave me be, my presence in training was a gift for a bully like Thor, and he was certainly enjoying it.

‘Or maybe you’re just too stupid to understand me, huh?’ he grinned, causing an unstoppable laughter to escape my lips. I shouldn’t have laughed, but I was not the only one to do so.

I heard a laugh that I recognised. The same beautiful laugh I had heard this morning, that once again put me at ease. I hadn’t noticed Loki leaning against the next pillar, his arms folded, stood in the most relaxed pose one could muster. He made everything look so easy. If I thought Thor still looked good after the hellish workout we’d just endured, Loki looked perfect.

‘Oh, please, Thor. You and I both know that’s not the case. I’ve never seen Afi sweat as much as you do during a maths test,’ Loki shot back as he pushed himself away from the wall, walking over to his brother. His hand swept through his hair, pushing it away from his face as he glanced over to me. He smiled slightly, letting me know he was enjoying making his brother look foolish, for the second time today.

‘Didn’t you listen to father, you shouldn't lie like that Loki,’ Thor frowned at him, less confident than he was a moment ago. I had to stop myself from smiling, as it would only anger Thor more. Loki, however, smiled wider, a small chuckle leaving his mouth.

‘I don’t lie, Thor. I’m sure your test scores would prove that,’ Loki grinned, stopping in front of Thor. They stared at each other, standing toe to toe, eye to eye, Thor’s brows furrowing deep into his forehead.

‘Well, I won’t need test scores when I’m king. If you are as smart as you think, you’ll make a worthy advisor, Loki,’ Thor relaxed his face, knowing exactly how to get to him. The issue of Odin’s heir was the only real cause of tension between the brothers. Of course, they argued, occasionally throwing insults at each other, but neither truly serious. They loved each other, as brother’s do. This. The throne, it’s the only thing that could break them apart.

‘Watch what you say to me, Thor. You’re not the only one skilled in weaponry,’ Loki warned, his tone much more serious that before. After a moment of tension, they were broken apart by the sound of Brandt’s booming voice.

Brandt’s second in command, Geir, handed out weapons to each boy. Including me. He handed the sword to me, and I was surprised by the weight of it. It was made of solid steel, the sharp blade and leather-bound handle alike. I almost dropped it to the floor, my left hand being required to hold it up. I had no idea how I would be able to swing this at someone, I could barely hold it high enough, let alone muster the strength to aim it at someone.

Then, when it didn’t seem like this day could get much worse, we were told to pair up. I watched as everyone found their friends, easily finding a colleague they would be happy to train with. But I stood alone, no friends to ask, and not confident enough to ask the few left single. That lump came back, making it hard to swallow and for a brief moment I was worried I might cry.

That was until, once again, Loki put me at ease. He was making a habit of that. Made eye contact with me, jumping closer to me with a small, gentle smile on his face.

‘Fancy being my partner today?’ he asked, his tone genuine and reassuring. Part of me was worried it was some sort of cruel trick, but, perhaps because I wanted to believe it wasn’t, I ignored the cautious voice in my head.

‘Sure,’ I smiled back at him, nodding slightly. I was grateful for his kindness, and started to relax until I heard the unmistakable sound of Sif’s laughter.

‘Loki, what on earth are you doing, partnering up with someone as useless as Afi?’ she questioned, her friends turning to face us as well. They stared with the same quired look, folding their arms while they waited for an answer. I looked to Loki, not caring what the answer was as long as it satisfied them. I wanted their eyes off me, their judgmental glances, and cruel snickers to be aimed at someone else.

‘I already know how to beat you, Sif. It won’t hurt for others to know how, might help reduce the swelling in your head. Think your ego might be getting to you,’ Loki smiled at them, quickly turning away from them. He winked at me as he did so, which only made the nerves worse.

‘That’s enough. We didn’t come here to chat, let’s get on with it. I want to see everyone practicing their form and footwork, I don’t want to see any swords swinging out of place,’ Brandt instructed, forcing everyone quiet.

I already knew Loki was a wonderful teacher from our magic lessons, but I was never more grateful for his patience as he helped me wield a sword I could barely hold. He showed me the correct way to stand, one foot in front of the other, turning my body sideways to make a smaller target. He demonstrated how to hold the sword correctly, and I could hold it in the right starting position, but not for long. Every time we began sparring, my arm got heavy, and the sword dropped to the ground.

Loki sighed after the third try, and I was starting to suspect he was regretting his decision to pair up with me. He walked over to me, taking the sword out of my hand, and placing it gently on the floor. He was stood in front of me now, little space in between us, and for the first time I noticed how much taller he was than me. As he towered over me, my head was forced to look up at him, he had never felt more intimidating than now.

‘Here, take this,’ he offered, pulling a dagger from a holster I hadn’t even noticed he was wearing. The dagger was similar to the one he had conjured an image of in my first magic lesson. But this one was real, and very sharp. ‘It’s far lighter and less flashy, most people won’t even see it coming. These idiots might think bigger is better, but I think they’re over compensating for something,’ Loki said as I took the dagger into my hand, as I looked back to him after inspecting the knife, he winked at me.

‘And you have nothing to compensate for?’ I asked, the blood rushing to my face as the last word left my lips. Where the bravery to say something like that came from, I do not know, but the silence growing between us told me it was a mistake.

That was until he laughed. A short chuckle ending in a smirk that made me feel nervous. A different kind of nervous than I had ever felt.

‘I guess you’re right. I don’t need to show off,’ he chuckled, taking a few steps back. ‘I prefer daggers for my weapon choice either way, and until you get some strength it’ll be the only weapon you can use,’ Loki continued. He didn’t mean anything by what he said, and yet I felt some shame in it all. Embarrassed in front of him, embarrassed I couldn’t do something so simple.

‘Right. Yes. Strength,’ I nodded, clearing my throat, trying to steer my focus back to the task at hand. ‘Looks like I’ll be needing that,’ I agreed, my eyes darting to the flexing muscles decorating Thor’s arms. His armour leaving his soft, tanned skin bare, and on display. I couldn’t stop myself from looking, scolding myself for doing so.

When my eyes returned to Loki’s face, I noticed a look. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, lips pursed, glancing back to Thor. He knew what I was staring at, and he said nothing, his eyes falling to the floor.  We took out positions, as we did so, Loki inspected his own arms, squeezing the muscles. He was comparing himself to Thor. I imagined he did so as much as I did, if not more.

I can’t imagine Thor as a brother. The perfect prince. The perfect warrior. The perfect son. I can only imagine how it made Loki feel, and I only wish I had the confidence to tell him how perfect I thought he was. But there was no time for that, even if I could muster the words, as Brandt strode over to us we were forced to resume training.

I liked the way the dagger felt in my hand, much more secure and less daunting than the large weapon I’d had previously. Once Loki was satisfied with my footwork and how I held the dagger, he told me to step closer. He taught me some basic hand-to-hand combat, as there is only so much you can do with a weapon as small as the only one I could use. After what felt like hours, it was finally over.

My first training session was over, and I didn’t die. I was teased, laughed at, embarrassed. But I didn’t die. Loki had given me some handy tips and after a while I even got the hang of violence. I sighed deeply when Brandt excused us, excited to be able to return to my bed.

‘Thanks for your help,’ I said to Loki, offering him the dagger back, but he pushed it away from himself.

‘No, you keep that,’ he smiled at me before running off to the locker room. I smiled to myself, my fingers tightening around the handle. A small gesture, but one that meant so much.

I followed Loki into the changing room, happy to finally take off my armour that was now soaked in my sweat. As I walked in, I noticed him. I noticed Loki in a way I never had before. I knew he wasn’t as skinny as I was, but I never expected to see such a strong back on someone so thin. As he pulled his shirt over his head, every muscle was defined, stretching his arms above his head, I saw more muscles on his arms than I think I had on my entire body.

My face went red when I realised what I was doing. What I was staring at. I shuffled over to the bench, forcing my eyes to the floor. I don’t think I have ever got changed as fast as I did in that moment, the fear of someone, let alone Loki, knowing what I stared at, so mesmerised. I ran back to my apartment, running into the bathroom as soon as I was home, immediately washing the shame off me, scolding my behaviour as I did so. It was wrong. And I knew it was.

The next few months flew by. All my time spent either practising magic or my fighting ability. One going far better than the other. I could hold a sword now at least, could even swing it around a little, but certainly not with any grace. Loki continued to tutor me, always offering to be my partner. And whilst I was happy he did so, it also made it a lot harder for me to not notice him. Notice him the way I had my first training session. And while we were certainly closer, our friendship forcing Thor to back off slightly, we were not that close. I doubt we ever would be, after all, why would a prince want anything to do with a scruffy orphan like me.