Asgard
975 A.D.
Loki did not hold his frown back.
For some reason, he was required to spar with Thor. Initially, he refused, too engrossed in his books, but it turned out to be a command from their father.
Odin wished to see how his sons were progressing in arms training.
He was also prohibited from using seidr for another incomprehensible reason. Odin wielded seidr in battle; the stories of his exploits attested to that. Yet, for this training session, he was limited to a blunt training blade.
It was stupid, but he did not voice his thoughts.
"Begin," their father started the bout.
Thor was stronger and faster than him and more talented with swords than Loki was.
The outcome was clear.
Still, he would give his best, if only so there would be no complaints that he wasn't taking this seriously.
He ducked beneath the first swing, but Thor was quick to turn around to stab at him, forcing Loki to roll forward. Raising his sword in a defensive position, Loki waited for his brother to attack.
Thor circled him, smirking, and bolted forward with a bellow. He raised the sword, blocking the downward slash and the one from the left. A step back saved his feet, but he stumbled to dodge the upward slash.
His brother took the opportunity, and he barely stopped the sword in his hand from flying away. Flipping back, he gained enough distance to dodge the thrust to his head and bring his sword up, forcing his brother back.
"Not bad, brother," Thor complimented, twirling his sword.
"You as well, brother."
Thor rushed again, and Loki was ready to block, though the swing was too strong. His sword flew up, falling on the stone ground, clanging uselessly.
Loki raised his hands, giving up.
"Good match, brother," he said. He believed the display was good enough.
"You could stand to be on the offensive more," Thor advised, patting him on the arm.
"Maybe."
Their father walked up to them, smiling, pleased with the spar. "My sons, both of you fought well," he praised, ruffling Thor's and then Loki's hair.
"Thank you, Father," he said. Thor was already off to the side of Sif, Fandral, and Volstagg to spar with them.
He was about to place the sword in its place and return to his room, but his father had a different idea: "You don't appear to be sad at your loss, Loki."
"Should I be, Father?" Was that an appropriate question to ask?
"No, but anyone your age would be," his father said. Loki knew his father didn't ask that question with bad intentions, but anyone else in his place would.
"Thor is better with arms, and I with seidr," he replied. "No use crying over it."
Why bother swinging around a sword if you can become strong enough to destroy your enemy from great distances with seidr?
"Indeed?" Odin asked, taking a step back, left hand behind his back, "Show me what you can do."
His words draw a crowd around them, as people wish to see the younger prince with
Loki took a position across from his father and brought his palms together. The seidr stuck between his hands was compressed and mutated, and once he thrust both palms to Odin, arcs of lightning followed.
Odin raised his spear, blocking the lightning and letting the weapon absorb it, even as Loki continued to feed into the magic, feeling his fingers tingle.
"Raw power alone will not be enough, my son," he said as the stream of lightning ended.
The lightning alone was fascinating, however.
"I know," he said. Loki snapped his fingers, and Gungnir wavered. Odin watched, wondering what his son had in mind.
The training arena had hundreds of weapons, all blunt, but still perfect for his plan.
One of the training swords was pulled out of its place in the rack, flying at Gungir, before more followed. Axes, maces, arrows, spears—every single weapon felt the pull of seidr and obeyed.
Weapons were not the only ones, however. Armor, tools, training posts—every metallic object took flight.
Odin raised an eyebrow as projectiles were coming at him from all around. Now that he realized it, his son had turned Gungir into a magnet, and a deadly storm of metal was upon him.
Deadly to an ordinary fighter, that is.
Loki knew the plan was ingenious, but against someone like his father, it was useless.
He was proven correct when the Allfather tapped his spear on the ground, dispelling Loki's spell. It wasn't over, as seidr turned to brute force at the point of contact, sending the objects back.
The Allfather's lips curved upwards, impressed.
"Ingenious. Inscribing a spell in Gungir by letting me absorb the lightning," his father said. The Allfather seemed to be in deep thoughts before he returned his attention to Loki once again.
"Anything else you would like to display today, my son?" he asked. Prodigies like Loki were rare, and Odin was sure his son would go a long way in his studies.
Loki considered whether to reveal more but decided against it. "No, that was all."
"Well done," the Allfather praised. "You are dismissed. I am confident you are eager to return to your lessons."
The crowd was watching him with open mouths and wide eyes, but thankfully, none approached to bother him.
—
Loki entered his room, stretching.
"How did it go?" the original asked, a cupcake in his hand as he read on the bed.
"See for yourself," the shade replied, touching the arm of the original, merging back.
His jaw stopped mid-motion as Loki analyzed the memories flowing into his mind. Not only the memories, but also the physical strain of the spar flowed to him.
And he continued chewing, his attention once more on the pages. Except for the sudden interest Allfather had shown in his seidr, the spar was a waste of time.
Good thing he sent his shade in his stead.
Finished with the cake, he waved his hands, sending the crumbs flying out of the window to the birds.
"My prince, it is time for lunch."
"Very well, thank you."
—
His parents and brother were already seated, waiting for him to arrive. He appreciated that they would wait for every member to arrive before starting.
"How was your spar today?" Frigga started the conversation, breaking the silence.
"It was great; I defeated everyone," Thor exclaimed, sending half-chewed food flying out.
"Good work, my son," Frigga praised, though her gaze was stern, "but what did we say about speaking while your mouth is full?"
His brother stopped, swallowing the food in his mouth before answering, "Not to."
"And you, Loki?" his mother asked. He loved her attention, but Thor answered in his stead.
Loki's lips thinned.
"You should have seen it, Mother," Thor raised his voice, rising from his seat in excitement. "Loki did something to Gungnir, and everything on the training field flew at Father."
"Is that so, husband?" Frigga turned to her husband for clarification.
"Indeed," Odin confirmed his son's tale, "He used lightning to inscribe a spell in Gungnir. Quite impressive and creative."
"I am proud of you both," she beamed, and Loki stood straighter.
Their parents then had a hushed conversation, sneaking glances at both siblings, before Odin cleared his throat.
"In one month's time, a delegation from Alfheim will visit. I expect both of you to represent Asgard in a manner befitting your stations," his father explained.
The orders were clear.
"Thor, no running around for adventure," Frigga warned Thor, though he was not spared either, "and Loki, you will not try to slip away to practice seidr."
"Yes, Mother," they replied at the same time.
—
"I can't believe we have to sit and listen while Father and the Ljosalfar talk," Thor grumbled, not even acting like he was reading the assigned history book.
Loki turned a page. "Duties of a prince, brother."
"But you don't like it either," his brother added.
He rolled his shoulders. "I don't."
The meetings were the same as always, with smiles, laughter, tea parties, good wishes, and gifts. Sometimes, his father would throw a hunting party or something equally lavish.
And each time, both brothers found it boring, being there for appearances with nothing to do.
Thor closed the book. "Then why won't you say anything?" he asked.
How to explain this to his brother so he would stop bothering him?
"Thor, we are princes of Asgard, and just like everyone else, we have our duties too. If we don't carry out our duties, do we deserve to stay as princes?" Loki asked.
His brother's lips parted to answer, but he closed them. Loki finished two more pages before the internal struggle his brother was having ended. "No."
"No, we don't," he affirmed. "The food we eat, the clothes we wear, and the servants we command—it is all possible because Allfather is a good king. If he was not, then we would not have any of this."
The book assigned to them was about the subject he mentioned, a history of rebellions through the Nine Realms.
"Oh," Thor said, realization dawning on him.
"Just like him, we have to be good princes." Loki knew how much Thor adored their father.
"I suppose you are right," his brother agreed with a frown. Ugh, why was he, as a child, explaining these things to Thor? Couldn't their father do his duty so Loki could read in peace?
"And think about it, whenever you try to escape, Mother always catches you and you get punished." She actually had a tracking spell put on Thor, though he did not spoil it. "Just doing as you are told is less time-consuming," he advised.
Which was hypocritical of him, because Loki wouldn't be there either.
"But it's not fun," his brother said.
It appeared his complaints weren't over yet.
"If everything in life was fun, then it wouldn't have a meaning," Loki said. He took a deep breath, reading the passage again.
He had to focus.
"What do you mean?" Thor asked, waiting for an explanation.
"Think of it like this. Gold is valuable because it is rare. If every person on Asgard had a mountain of gold, would it still be valuable?" Loki asked, explaining as simply as possible.
"I understand now," Thor replied. "Thank you, brother." Finally he fell silent, and Loki could give his full attention to the book.
—
Loki, having realized he had been in his room for too long, decided to take a stroll in the garden. The sunlight, the fresh air, and the scenery cleared his mind, but there was a problem.
There were intruders.
Covering himself in a reflective layer as he split his body into two, Loki watched.
"We can't find the anomaly. This is as close to it as we can get; even then, the radius of the area is two miles."
They were humans, speaking English, dressed in black form-fitting suits with helmets, and three orange letters on them.
TVA.
Loki did not know what it meant, but they were either some sort of police or soldiers.
"Could it be Loki?" The brown-skinned one with the tablet in his hand asked, and Loki's eyes widened. How did they know him?
"Maybe," the tall man, the most likely leader of the group, said, "He always causes trouble no matter the timeline. Can we locate him?"
Damn it, could they somehow track him now?
"No, the interference is messing with our systems," the blonde woman said, and Loki breathed out.
"What about the others?" The leader asked, "Thor, Odin? Can we locate them?"
"Yes," the man with the tablet said. "Actually, it seems the only one we can't find is Loki."
"It must be him then," the leader declared. "Spread out and apprehend the variant."
His eyes widened, and Loki almost turned around to call for help.
"Intruders! Halt in the name of the Allfather." Two guards passing through had seen the humans and drew their swords, ready to attack.
The TVA guys pulled out sticks with purple glowing tips and clashed with the swords of the guards.
His eyes widened more as the guards just slowed down, as if they were trying to move through a dense substance, and two more hits knocked them out.
Those sticks were dangerous.
Loki could choose to fight them or escape to call for help.
"Should we prune them?" the short, blonde female asked, pointing her stick at the guards.
"Do it," the leader said. "Best to have no witnesses before we finish. The whole branch will be pruned anyway," he added, touching the cylindrical object strapped to his belt.
The purple glow of the sticks turned to orange, and the TVA agents touched the guards, who promptly disintegrated into nothing.
Hiding behind the tree again, Loki was ready to run to find his father, but what the humans said stopped him.
Were they some sort of police? Here to arrest him for something he did? What could it be? What did the leader mean by pruning the branch? Could they be meaning to use that cylinder to destroy Asgard? If they were able to travel between timelines, did that mean they could do worse?
His mind raced with questions, but one thing was clear.
By the time he calls for help, it could be too late.
Commanding his shade to draw their attention, he started watching again.
"Looking for me?" his shade asked, standing out in the open with a smirk.
"There you are." The leader pointed his stick at the shade. "Surrender now and make this easy on yourself. We know all your tricks."
Loki prepared to attack since they were all kind enough to turn their backs but still wanted to learn more.
"My tricks?" The shade asked, arms crossed as the seidr began to flow.
"Your illusions can't fool us. Give up," the leader demanded as his subordinates spread out to surround the shade.
"Illusions? That's all?" the shade asked, and Loki raised an eyebrow. Did they think all he could do was illusions? Or rather, was that all his counterparts were capable of?
"Yeah," the blonde female said, bringing her stick higher, "what else?"
"Oh, I don't know," the shade said, bringing his palms together as his teeth flashed, one shared by the original, "something like this?"
The shade pushed the lightning through his fingers, and the time police did not have the time to react before the energy burned through their bodies.
All three fell down like puppets with their strings cut.
Loki commanded the shade to approach, watching for any sign to see if any survived the onslaught.
The leader twitched, somehow still alive, and muttered something.
"Go to hell."
An orange field began to spread beneath the man, and both Lokis stepped back as everything touched by the field disappeared.
He turned to run, but the line sped up, and the last thing he saw was the unknown energy consuming his body.
—
Loki gasped, springing out of his bed, ready to attack.
His eyes flickered around, searching for any sign of danger, but he was in the safety of his room.
What had just happened?
"My prince, the Allfather summons you for the spar," the servant called from outside the door, just as she had done that morning.
He didn't think it was just a nightmare.
—
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