"That overbearing blonde bastard," Loki grumbled quietly to himself lest he be heard as he passed the on going stream of nobility and montage of servants, "always so damn irritating." Though as he said this, his lips turned up just a bit and he shook his head slightly. 'You know he can't help being so utterly annoying, it's how he's always been... that and dumb as a chopped log.' He thought to himself as he continued the short walk to his room, with the usual strut that which often defined his gait. Despite his harsh words and threats, Loki always would love his older brother, even though he was often the reason why there were so many a gray hair upon their father's head- not that Loki hadn't caused any of them himself, because that he most certainly did- and did so very often (Perhaps yet another reasoning behind his given title).
Down the corridor he continued to walk attempting to pay little to no attention to the excitement that surrounded him and seemed to fill the enormous palace to the point where it might just overflow or even burst with all the energy all its residents emitted. There was the hushed whispers uttered in secret by circles of ladies, who giggled quietly amongst themselves or gasped suddenly as one mentioned something rather scandalous involving one of the many lords and warriors who were walking past and there were simple servants who gave one another broad looks of excitement as they struggled not to loose their footing as children (escaping their chores and nurse maids no doubt) ran across their path and through the castle, their laughter filling its shining halls. The entire castle was in an uproar.
Their zeal was to be understood though.
After all, the coming night's feast was to be the largest there had been at the palace in several years and it would rival the feasts promised in Valhalla.
After all, it was a special occasion. It was the night that the All-Father was to announce the name one of his two sons as his heir to the throne- the king of Asgard, the ruler of the Aesir, the Vanir and all the nine realms. Understandably an event that Loki was not looking forward to in the slightest. He was not favored and he knew it. Though despite this he felt in his heart he was born to be a king and often had he gazed upon his father's throne with sad longing in his eyes. He wasn't the brave charismatic warrior his brother was famously known to be, nor was he particularly well liked and there were many whispers that the prince's affinity towards the magical arts was too womanly a trait to be found in a king and all the other realms would regard this as weakness. No matter how cunning, or how magically skilled he was, the name upon everyone's lips remained.
Thor.
Every tavern within the nine realms all had songs praising the thunder god. Midgardians donned pendants of his mighty hammer around their necks and even named a day in their week after him. All his adventures, his battles with giants, withi serpents, the dwarves, too were recorded in sagas. By the goddess Hel, if the oaf took so much as a shit, damn, one could bet their ass a saga existed out there praising its very stench. If there was anyone to take the war-God's place upon the throne, it was and would always be Thor.
Ultimately, the only reason he felt like going to this feast tonight was because he knew that Sigyn would be there beside him to support him if he needed. The thought of her made the corners of his mouth inch upwards into a small smile.
At least one person in all the realms believes in me
The prince thought to himself as he waved a hand across the magical lock upon his door. It swung open to reveal his quarters.
• • • • •
A/N:
PSYCH I ain't dead
Y'all just been Loki'd!
I'm back and I'm rusty at writing but I'm finishing what I started
YOU ARE READING
A tale of Fidelity and Mischief
FanfictionSet before and during the events of the first Thor movie, Sigyn and Loki have been friends since they were children, but lately their friendship has seemed to be something more.
