Cleave | Loki x Reader

• V •

▪︎ of trust and tricks ▪︎

1665, Asgard

Y/n

Upon reaching that special age of transition, where the voice of a boy hardens into that of a man, hairs begin to bedeck most parts of that youthful, smooth skin—it is then that every aspiring warrior of Asgard's elite is required to venture on their first adventurous battle overrealms.

Or something along those lines – I can't say really. My voice will most likely never turn into much more than it already is; nor will any more hairs sprout on my smooth woman's skin. At least I hope, they won't.

Anyhow, in almost every corner across the Nine Realms, there are wars to win; uprisings to quell; ambushes to impede. The Æsir then send their younglings to these sites of distress, so that they may prove not only their might but also their undying fidelity to the mightiest of realms.
When that time arrived, the final initiation trial of the princes on the horizon, they didn't have to wait long for an opportunity to present itself.

In the 3954th Year of the Nine, and around the Midgardian year of 1665, a small uprising rose steadily in the south of Nidavellir.

The home of the dwarves.
Following the creation of the mighty hammer Mjölnir for Thor, the golden ring Draupnir for Odin, as well as the great boar Gullinbursti to be gifted the Vanir hunter-god Frey by the dvergr brothers Brokkr and Eitri, envy gradually but surely seeped into some Nidavellir folk. Greed took over.

Holding tight to their belief the smiths had squandered their realm's resources and unique magic merely for them alone to be in favour with the gods, the Dvergar hatched a sly plan.

Yet Eitri, ever so loyal to Odin – and having taken a special liking to young and ambitious Thor – came rushing to the All-Father's side to inform him of the traitorous plans his fellow kinsmen had been drafting for a while now. Their intention was to steal back the gifted creations from the royal palace – by making use of the advantage their height served, Eitri admitted rather timidly.

Therefore, all but a mere day later, in an attempt to ambush their campsite at the river Aeliel, Thor and Loki with the help of a dozen fellow warriors-in-training departed for Nidavellir.
Of course, I had to stay behind.

'Are you not nervous?' I asked Thor just before their departure, whilst we waited for the remaining lads to arrive.

'In the face of a great battle? Never.'
He took in a breath. 'In the face of my first great battle...? I wish they equalled the same but they certainly do not,' he admitted quite sheepishly, running his hands through those glorious golden locks in obvious unease.

'Don't think it great, Thor. It's Dvergar you're battling, not Jötnar,' I reassured him, giving him a pat on the shoulder and accompanying it with a playful wink.

In his usual boisterous manner, he threw a short laugh back at me.
'You're very wise for your age, Y/n!'

At that, I put my hands on my hips, mock-chiding him with that same voice Revna never quite managed to pull off.

'For my age? The gift of my person might have been given to the worlds centuries after you took your first royal venture out of your mother's womb, but do not forget, Odinson, that I age faster than you.'