THORKI Fan Fictions

Title: Quarrel

A/N: Just a cute Thor & Loki childhood story. I’ve deliberately mixed some Norse mythology and Viking tradition in with stuff from the movie ..because why not?

“And did you see how the beast bore down on me right before I slayed it, Father?”

“Yes, Thor,” Odin said, smiling down upon his son. Thor puffed out his tiny chest as though he were a lion. “It is a fine boar for a first kill.”

Loki looked from Odin to Thor and didn’t say a word.

The skies were darkening as dusk set in, but the campsite was filled with the warmth and light of torchlight as they walked across it to the celebratory feast for the last night of the hunt. Loki crossed his arms over his chest for warmth and longed for the crackling fires of home. Judging by the singing, the men had already broken out the mead and begun another of their dreadful drunken parties, full of too-loud singing and bawdy jokes that were nothing like the humor Loki preferred.

“It thought it could get away from me, but I was faster,” Thor boasted.

“We’ll have to be faster if we want to get there before Volstagg eats everything,” Loki interjected, meeting Thor’s eye with a glint in his own.

“Excuse me,” Volstagg said, appearing at Loki’s side like a giant ball of baby fat and red hair, Hogun and Fandral not far from his (very round) side. “I am a growing boy, as my mother often says.”

“And you’ll never stop growing,” Loki smirked.

“At least I’m not as skinny as a snake,” Volstagg spat back at him, “and twice as slippery.” He trotted away from them in a huff, his friends following him closely. Loki looked down at his feet.

“Boys, take your seats,” Odin said over the others’ laughter, walking around them to take his place at the head of the table. Thor sat to his immediate right; Loki took the seat next to his older brother. Thor looked around anxiously for his boar (which was rather small if you asked Loki, not that anyone did). Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun sat farther down from Loki and edged away, leaving space between them. Loki stared resolutely down at his plate.

“There it is,” Thor whispered to Loki, his eyes lit up with excitement as his roasted boar was carried to its place of honor at the head of the table. Odin looked from it to Thor and smiled softly.

“My firstborn’s first kill,” he announced proudly. Thor grinned at everyone around the table, basking in this father’s pride.  As the meal began, Loki barely looked from his hunk of meat and stewed vegetables to listen to Thor’s recounting of his adventure with the boar — the fifth, if his count was correct.

“When I was your age, I’d already slain three,” Sif said as she appeared, hair whipping around in its ponytail. The corner of Loki’s mouth turned up in a slight smile.

“You are my age,” Thor pointed out, abandoning his story to look pointedly at Sif. She took a seat in the empty space next to Loki and began to fill her plate.

“Exactly,” she replied through a mouthful of food, “and my aim with a longbow is better than any of yours.” She swept a hand over the boys on the bench beside her.

“It’s not much of a competition when you’re including Loki,” Fandral said.

Loki stood up, pushing his plate back and glaring at Fandral.

“At least I didn’t make Freya laugh herself silly when I smiled at her,” he spat.

“No, she merely ran away in fright,” Fandral retorted.

Loki jumped over the bench. “I don’t have to stand for this,” he said, turning and stalking away from the table, his father’s voice calling after him as he escaped into the night.

The darkness outside of the camp was calming. Loki liked the darkness and the solitude that nightfall brought with it. The sound of the crickets were fading, signaling the onset of winter. It was Loki’s favorite season. He liked the ice just as much as the darkness, the snowballs he threw at passerby and the icy snow he could shove down the neck of his brother’s tunics.

Loki grinned to himself and sat at the edge of the river. The water was cool, but not cold as he dipped his fingers into the water and watched how it flowed through his fingers. Loki stared at the wavering reflection of the moon, thinking. Perhaps they were right. He would never be strong or powerful. Not like Thor.

“Loki?”

Loki turned. As if summoned by his thoughts, Thor had followed him, led by moonlight and concern. Loki turned away. He considered diving into the river and swimming to the other side. Anything to escape Thor.

“You aren’t a fish, Loki, and it’s too late for a swim,” Thor said, reading his thoughts.

“I could become one,” Loki said petulantly. “If I tried hard enough.” He paused. “Perhaps in a few years.”

“And yet you let it bother you when Volstagg calls you a snake?” Thor crossed his arms over his chest. When Loki didn’t answer, he sighed. “May I join you, brother?”

Loki shrugged and allowed Thor to sit beside him on the river bank. Thor nudged him with his shoulder gently.

“I am bound to be a warrior one day,” Thor began. Loki tittered, but Thor held up a hand to silence him. Loki sighed in resignation and looked out over the rushing water at the blinking stars reflected across its surface. “You are not.”

“I think that’s the problem, Thor; you were born to be a hero,” Loki said. “You are…everything I am not,” he finished, his voice small and broken sounding.

Thor picked a rock from the river bank and threw it across the water. It skipped twice before splashing into the river with a loud plop!

“And how is that a problem?” he boomed. “We are brothers, are we not? We may be different, but we have the same heart. I am a bold warrior,” Thor says with a triumphant spread of his arms, “and you, you are a — a great sage! Name another that knows the spells that you do,” Thor challenged him with confidence Loki wished he had.

“Mother,” he replied simply, tilting his head to the side with a smirk. Thor pushed Loki playfully, nearly knocking him into the river with his strength.

“You say that now,” Thor said, “imagine what you will be able to accomplish at Mother’s age — at Father’s! Volstagg, Fandral — they won’t be laughing when they see how great you become.” Thor wrapped an arm around Loki and gripped his shoulders tightly until he squeezed a smile out of Loki. “See?” he grinned.

“Fine, Thor,” Loki rolled his eyes, but he grinned right back at Thor. Picking up a round, flat stone, he held it between his forefinger and thumb and tossed it across the water with a sharp and careful flick of his wrist. The stone jumped across the surface of the river, stopping only when it hit the high bank at the other side.

“And if all else fails, we’ll challenge them to a throwing game,” Thor joked.

Loki cast his eyes down to look for another smooth, flat stone, and used it as an excuse to look away from Thor.

“You can go back to the feast now, if you want,” he said, fingers brushing over sandy dirt and picking out a reddish-tinted stone. “Your boar is waiting.”

“I’d rather stay here with you,” Thor said. Loki’s chest swelled with affection, but he swallowed it down underneath a skeptical look. “Come, now,” Thor said, commandeering his perfect throwing stone, “show me how you threw like that.”

End.