Purple
Thor had a purple nose. Not just the tip of it, but the flare above each nostril and all the way to the space between his eyes was bright, royal purple.
“How was your day?” Loki said, trying to look at Thor’s eyebrows and not the purple blotch beneath them.
“It was good. We walked a ways north, and Fandral found a flower I’d never seen before. Perhaps you could have identified it, Loki. But still…do you think this means summer is coming?”
“Not likely, if the flower was in the north.”
“You are right,” said Thor. “I would expect summer to come from the southern direction.”
“Or from the west,” Loki pointed out. “Away from Jotunheim.”
“Fandral said the flower had a pleasant smell. He sniffed deep and got a faceful of pollen! Then he tried to get me to sniff it.”
“Well?” Please don’t ask me to inspect your nose.
“I sneezed. Do you think I might be allergic?” Rubbing his nose, Thor’s fingers left white trails across the purple surface, which slowly faded back to purple.
Loki crossed his eyes, but said nothing.
The next day was all right; Loki grew used to seeing purple-nosed Thor and could ignore it. On the third day, however, Thor’s purple nose broke out in green spots; the spots bulged on day four, and on the fifth day erupted in pink flowers. On day six, a baby snake rose from each bloom; they waved in front of Thor’s face, and he complained of cloudy vision.
“Loki, can you check my eyes? I must have something in them. Everything is a blur.”
“Lie down on the couch.” Loki came close. The little snakes curled into striking position and hissed at him, showing their tiny fangs. Loki carefully lifted open Thor’s eyelids, and looked in each eye. Nothing. “Follow my hand with your eyes. Is your vision blurry everywhere?”
Loki waved, Thor looked. “Maybe it’s worse on the bottom. Can you wave closer?”
This was going to hurt. Loki ran a fingertip in from the edge of Thor’s face toward one eye, along the lower lash-line. “There! It’s cloudy there!” A snake reached out and grabbed onto Loki’s finger; Loki pulled back. “What is it? Did you see something?”
“No,” said Loki. “I was afraid of getting too close and hurting your eye. Let me try again.” Again a finger along the lash-line (closer this time), and all the way to Thor’s nose. Loki didn’t dare breathe. Half a dozen little snakes latched onto Loki’s finger and held on, pulled out of their flowery home.
“You’re making it better,” Thor said. “Now do the other eye.”
Deep breath. “Of course.” Another pass, this time with the other hand, and Loki had two fingers covered in wiggling, biting snakelets. He sighed.
“Brother! Whatever you did, you cured me!” And jumped up.
Loki stilled from trying to wipe the little snakes onto his pants. “Don’t tell Father.”
“Why not?”
He won’t let me learn magic. “That you caught an allergy from Fandral’s flower? He may not let you travel north again.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.”
The next day, Thor’s nose was covered in tiny mewing kittens. Tiny purple mewing kittens. Loki just sighed when he saw him (kittens have teeth and claws, after all), and tried to avoid Thor for the rest of the day. The was no escaping dinner, however; Odin at the head of the table, Frigga on his left, and his two sons, Thor and then Loki, on his right.
“Loki?” Odin asked.
Thor turned his head, and the kittens loudly wailed in Loki’s ear. Odin was still talking.
“LOKI?” Odin roared. The kittens shut up. “I said, how was your day?”
“Oh. Your pardon, Father; I was lost in thought. Today was uneventful.” A kitten took a swipe at Loki’s own nose, and he didn’t even blink.
“Thor.” Who turned to face his interrogator. Good, no more kitten attacks.
“Father?”
“You must have been very active today. You’ve inhaled your dinner. There’s even some on your nose.”
“There is?” Thor rubbed his nose, wiping away illusory kittens that he gave no sign of noticing. When he turned back to Loki, his nose was back to normal.
“I think you missed a spot,” Loki said. And grinned.
“I did?”
Frigga said, “Loki. Come see me after dinner.”
“Yes, Mother.”