Mother Dearest

Running of the Chickens

Loki got loose of Thor's hold again and disappeared. Thor was afraid that he had lost his little brother for good in the labyrinth of corridors, but he finally found him after thirty minutes of endless wandering. He caught sight of the little black-haired prince making his way to the palace kitchen, where the cooks and servants were busy preparing dinner. More than likely it was the meal Odin planned to serve to his guests later that evening, whoever they might be. Delicious aromas wafted through the hall and made Thor's mouth water. No wonder Loki was making his way toward this area of the palace. He probably followed the scent. Oftentimes Thor enjoyed going into the kitchen to watch meals being prepared. Most of the cooks and maids didn't like it, saying that the kitchen was no place for a young child. However, since Thor was the prince, they tolerated it. One cook named Bjorn had no problem with Thor being there and had grown quite fond of the boy, sneaking him tasty treats when the others weren't looking.

But it wasn't the smell that drew Loki to this part, as Thor quickly discovered.

"Meep!" Loki squeaked, pointing a finger toward a large crate on the other side of the hallway, near the entrance to the kitchen. It was filled with live chickens that clucked and poked their heads through the crate bars, pecking at any stray crumbs lying on the floor around them. Loki ambled over to it and clapped his hands excitedly. He immediately recognized them from the picture book Frigga made for him. How exciting! He'd never seen one close up before. They were such funny looking creatures, he thought. He giggled as he watched the chickens' heads continue to poke in and out and look at him with beady black eyes.

"Chickuns," Thor explained, walking up beside his brother. Loki squealed in glee again as he placed his hands through the crate bars to feel of the birds. "Careful, they peck." Thor remembered his first encounter with chickens quite vividly and didn't want Loki to have to go through the same experience. He reached and pulled Loki's hands out of the crate. "They will hurt you. Don' do that."

Loki jerked his hand out of Thor's and backed away, regarding Thor with eyes that were filling up with fresh tears. What was wrong with his brother? Everything he did or tried to do was wrong. All he wanted to do was feel of these things. Why was that so wrong? Loki slowly walked up to the cage again, attempting to put his hand through the bars. He stopped and looked up at Thor.

"No," Thor said, shaking his head. "You can look, but don' touch. They bite."

Loki hesitated, staring at Thor. Was his brother trying to keep him from having fun? Finally, he turned and stuck his hand through the cage again and felt of the soft feathers of the bird nearest him.

"Loki, I said don'." Thor grabbed Loki and pulled him away. Loki screamed and kicked and tried pushing his way out of Thor's arms. His brother lost his grip in the struggle and Loki plopped down on his rear on the floor. He let out a long wail of irritation and pushed on Thor's legs, partly grabbing onto Thor's trousers to help pull himself up to standing.

"I wish you stop doin' that," Thor said irritably, grabbing for his britches.

"Hey, Thor! Hey, Loki!" said Bjorn, catching sight of the two boys.

"Hai, 'Jorn!" Thor waved. Loki, on the other hand, didn't acknowledge the greeting and continued to throw a fit.

"Why is he so unhappy?" Bjorn asked.

"He wants ta pet tha chickuns. I tol' him no 'cause they peck," Thor answered, keeping his hand on Loki's arm.

"Loki," Bjorn called.

Loki finally stopped crying long enough to look toward the old cook. Bjorn smiled down at him and finger waved. He was a rather plump guy, having rusty red hair and beard with a hint of gray. When he smiled he revealed a mouth that was half full of teeth.