Loyalty and Mischief (WIP)

Chapter 1 - This is not my idea

Asgard — approx. 150 years ago, Midgard year 1880

The day had finally arrived. That brainless oaf would meet his bride today. All of Asgard was abuzz with rumours of her beauty. If one was to believe them, she was a lady worthy of the Crown Prince and firstborn son of Odin. Everyone had been preparing for this day for weeks, ever since Frigga had met the girl who would become the second lady of the realm. Though Loki had to admit, his mother's blessing had come suspiciously swiftly.
Others had sought this match for their daughters, and Frigga usually took months until she made her decision, which was why her accord after only one meeting was a surprise to all. Even more so when she requested for the lady to be brought to Asgard. Not at the wedding, as was tradition, but a year before so the couple could 'fall in love and learn from each other'.

Loki was in his brother's private rooms, lying on the bed with his hands supporting his head, not paying any attention to Thor as he tried to find an appropriate outfit to meet his betrothed. He simply stared at the canopy over the bed, contemplating what to do next. If he should do anything at all, even.
A beautiful wife at his side might just be what Thor needed to make him less... Thor. The blond brute was always fighting and gallivanting around, so Loki was curious to let matters run their course and see who would truly wield the sword and shield in that relationship. On the other hand... if he allowed the happy couple to be just that — happy — well, then he wouldn't be the God of Mischief now, would he?

"What of my armour? With my helmet and Mjölnir?" asked Thor, already pulling out his signature red cape.

"How about nothing?" quipped Loki.

"Stop your jests, Loki, and help me find something to wear!"

"You have enough to wear." Loki lazily leaned on his elbows, not hiding the obvious boredom in his voice. "In fact, your entire wardrobe could probably dress the whole of the Nine Realms. You're the firstborn golden son of Asgard; your hair alone makes you look good in anything. So just pick something and get it over with."

"You're no help at all!"

"Oh, for mercy's sake."

Loki swung his legs off the bed and pushed himself up. He strode to his brother's side, took one look in the wardrobe, and then grabbed the dark blue ceremonial tunic with rubies Thor had made especially for their parents' last anniversary.

"Wear this." Loki threw the garment over his brother's head. "Mother loved it on you, as did every other woman at court. If this doesn't impress your wife-to-be, nothing will. Can I please go now?"

"Yes, yes, change too, of course," said Thor, distracted as he looked the outfit over and nodded approvingly.

"I did."

"Really?" Thor glanced at Loki. "Looks the same as you always wear."

"Well, I'm not the one who has to make an impression now, am I? Now hurry. Father will have your head if you're not there on time to meet the wench."

"Take care of how you speak of your future Queen!"

Loki rolled his eyes and left his brother to his growing anxiety. He did care for Thor in his own way, but he enjoyed playing tricks on his sibling far more than he enjoyed helping him pick out his clothes. Speaking of which, he still had to come up with something new to prank Thor with. It has been some time, and the Crown Prince was getting too comfortable to Loki's liking. Far better to have Thor on edge. Perhaps this famed beauty he was to wed would provide an opportunity.
But Loki had to tread carefully. If Odin noticed his scheming, the Allfather would immediately put a stop to it. Frigga, though, might allow him a bit of fun if it wasn't too harmful to others. His mother was, after all, the one who taught him how to wield magic, whereas Thor never bothered to learn — the discussion on whether this was because of lack of interest or lack of intellect was still ongoing — and preferred to stomp, kick, punch, and strike at his enemies and furniture with his hammer.