Author's Note: Before we get going, I want to let you guys know this story is complete (6 Chapters total) and saved on my harddrive. The next chapters need editing, so there will still be gaps between updates... but the point is that you can trust me! This story will be finished, no matter what. An update will be posted every Thursday, no matter what (unless something tragic happens to me xD).

Second, people are not necessarily nice in this story. If you're wary of that, you might want to jump to the end of this story and read my continued author's note about the W4 and Thor where I defend myself. I don't view the W4 as jerks, but I don't think they're angels either. This applies to Thor and Loki, too. Just a heads up. :) Now, enjoy!

Summary: On the eve of his brother's test for the Einherjar, Loki aspires to be more like Thor. Unfortunately, the sorceress he seeks for aid has other ideas—that the Odinsons' happiness can only be obtained through understanding of each other.

This Chapter: Thor fails to notice his brother's concerns and Loki asks a sorceress for a favor.

. . . Fate cannot be tested. Each predetermined choice branches from the trunk of The Great Tree and creates a tapestry of lives woven together. The Norns care for the stiches of destiny as they also hydrate the roots of fate, while day by day, year by year, terrible choices rise in the ash of good ones. Not one of the caretakers, not even the Norn Queen herself, can deny the occasional ponderance of free will. It is true that fate cannot be tested—although it is not for want of trying . . .

Freaky Thorsday
Chapter 1: "Status Quo"

"And then, with a mighty swing of my axe, the tide swung in our favor!"

"Now now, good friend, do not diminish my sword's usefulness! Or worse, underestimate the significance of Hogun the Grim!"

"Oh, please. You all brag with the borish impudence of men—clearly, it was I who laid the final blow after all of you served as fitting distractions."

Hollers and cheers break all around to encourage the rapidly escalating tale of the Bilgeschnipe. The tides of the battle had never actually neared danger, but when it comes to matters of glory, exaggerating and even outright lying always find their place—at least for these five buffoons.

Thor raises his goblet in the air to signal another round. "Do not forget my role in the battle! My hammer Mjolnir . . ."

And that is when Loki truly abandons the conversation. It's not because Thor's lengthy monologue will prevent Loki from taking pride in his own accomplishments, nor is it because his brother and friends will fail to acknowledge such accomplishments whether Loki voices them or not.

Merely, he is bored.

Great tales of glory never appealed to him and never will. He much prefers a challenging riddle or an engaging story without a black-and-white ending. For some reason or another (likely everyone's dull, unimaginative brains), the people of Asgard consume these predictable tales of valor nearly as much as they consume their mead.

Taverns always welcome the promise of a good story, and Thor and his lot equally welcome the promise of good mead as a reward for a long journey. They all fit in nicely together. As usual, Loki himself sips his wine to avoid unwanted attention and tries not to murder anyone through the night.

He has better things to look forward to than some drunken idiocy.

During their quest, he finally caught the attention of one of the ladies of the Norns. Unnoticed by his would-be comrades, he managed to slip a message to the Queen of Nornheim herself, and if his message was well-received (which it would be, thanks to his political favor recently), then a powerful sorceress would meet him here tonight. He only has to watch closely, else she might slip past his sight.

". . . lucky for us, Brother?"

Thor's words call his attention from the dark corners of the tavern, and Loki swallows the rest of his drink. He returns the goblet to the table and soaks in the eyes of the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three all upon him.

"What was lucky for us?" Loki asks.

Immediately the atmosphere drops from its former merriment. Beside him, Fandral gives that irritating, little tsk, which is quickly accompanied by Volstagg's sigh. Sif mutters to Thor under her breath about how she knew the trickster wasn't listening. Hogun alone seems unaffected, but Loki doesn't count his blessings.

Their disapproval only amuses him these days. Loki contains a smile. "Forgive me," and there is no sincerity to his tone, "but it seems with all of this mad hollering, I must have missed your words. A pity we came here, instead of returning straight to Asgard—I might have had a better chance to hear you then."

The other warriors may have exchanged uneasy looks, but Sif braves his cutting tone. "No one ever forced you to drink with us, Loki. If you wished to return to Asgard, you have only yourself to blame for staying."

Coming to this tavern was his goal to begin with, but he keeps the pretense to avoid suspicion. "Ah, and leave my dear friends to face whatever dangers lie on the way back home?" He chuckles at Thor's cautionary glance, and continues, unashamed. "Why, without my assistance, I fear there would be none of you left to boast of your fabricated victories."

"Loki," Thor warns. All around them, the mood of the table has soured.

"Oh?" Loki says. "Am I mistaken? Was I really just baggage brought along for the journey? I suppose it is of no matter that my magic saved your lungs from your broken ribs, beloved brother, but then again, you surely would have found the courage to still breathe. And you, Fandral? When the Bilgeschnipe charged, you certainly wouldn't have been trampled. Hogun's daggers would have blinded the beast a second after mine, even though he stood several paces—"

"If you wish to glorify yourself," Sif says, "I would recommend doing so outside of the expense of your friends."

The inconsistency between her advice and her actions forces a small smile to Loki's lips as he sips the new drink a servant sets down before him. Yes, he thinks, I agree far more than you realize.

The smile must have appeared mocking, for Thor's fist slams down upon the table which wobbles under his weight a second later. Loki waits patiently before setting his drink back down.

"Loki, what has come over you?" Thor demands. "Why do you feel your skills to be so underappreciated? We have jested with each other all night about whose hand truly gained us this glorious victory. You had only to join in!"

Loki stares at Thor, deliberately without an answer. Silence to his brother's demands always erupts Thor's temper, and frequently coaxes something out of Thor that he normally wouldn't say.

This time is no different. "Do not tell me it is because you were outvoted today!" he exclaims with a disapproving scowl. "If you truly wished to skip the tavern, why did you not argue your point further? I would have listened!"

Inwardly, Loki doubts that. In fact, he had counted on Thor's easy dismissal when Loki voted to skip the tavern. He knew the group would be suspicious of his sudden interest in drinking. So instead, he says, "Do you really think my motivation to be so petty? Has it not occurred to anyone that I am joining the bragging as you tell me to? Why are you so quick to say I harbor some malicious intention?"

"Because you always do," Sif responds.

Loki smiles away his utter hatred of this woman.

"Calm yourselves!" Volstagg suddenly breaks in. "We have brought ourselves a great victory this day! Let us take pleasure in the celebrations, there is no need to fight amongst ourselves."

For his part, Loki would love to continue the bickering, to execute his wit and force more of these heartfelt reactions. But Loki understands that his enjoyment of trickery does not take well with Asgardian society, nor those who pretend to be his friends. So he sucks up his unspoken resentment and turns his attention to Thor. "What were you saying, Brother?" he asks.

"Oh, yes!" Thor says, at once abated. "I was telling them how lucky it was that this was not our first encounter with a Bilgeschnipe!"

A sense of unease gnaws at his bones. "Ah, yes. But how is that lucky?"

"Because we knew its weak spot! Despite our failure to defeat one in the past, we still learned that its scales are weakest at the base of its neck, under its chin. Without our childhood adventure, Loki, I would have never known to strike there!"

Loki refrains from mentioning that anyone who wanted to know the weakness of a Bilgeschnipe simply needed to open a book. Regardless of their tragic adventure as children, Loki had known very well where to strike and would have told Thor before entering the fight if Thor had not mentioned it himself.

"Yes," Loki agrees just to humor his brother, "lucky indeed."

Thor nods his agreement. The negative effects of drinking begin to linger in Thor's bloodshot eyes, and Loki knows that when Thor gets drunk, Thor starts to brag even more—usually about saving his little brother. And their current conversation draws a bit too close to an opportunity.

"Of course, I'm sure one of us would have figured it out eventually," Loki adds in order to turn the discussion to the current tale, rather than one of the past.

Unfortunately, the warriors and Sif are too interested at this point. "Of what do you speak, Thor? When else have you gone to slay a Bilgeschnipe?" Fandral and Volstagg hum in encouragement.

"Well, it was long ago!" Thor begins. "Before I had met the lot of you. My brother and I sought to claim victory for ourselves a few years after I started my training for the Einherjar. I requested Father to send me on a quest to slay a Bilgeschnipe, and he would not allow it."

Loki rolls his eyes at Thor's wistful tone. "As was right. You were hardly more than a toddler."

"Yes, yes." His hand waves Loki's remarks away.

Hogun leans the slightest bit forward. "So what happened next?"

And if Hogun is interested, then Loki stands no chance in redirecting the conversation. Loki leans back in his chair and prepares himself for the worst. He promises himself to not interrupt again—no matter what is said—and he fixes his eyes on the business of the tavern.

"Well, it took some coaxing, but eventually I convinced Loki to sneak out of the palace with me. Naturally, I wanted to share my quest with him and give him, young as he was, a chance at proving his courage."

Loki will not say that Thor only brought him along because his illusory magic helped smuggle them from the palace in the dead of night. It does not matter, and Thor will only argue anyway.

"Go on," Sif encourages.

"A Bilgeschnipe turned out to be quite the formidable opponent!" Thor continues without seeing Loki's vehement expression. "You can imagine it: the two of us in the dead of night, not much more than toddlers as Loki says."

"Did you actually kill a Bilgeschnipe?" Sif asks.

"No, no," Thor chuckles. "No, we did not. At least, not until tonight. But, we fought it, certainly, and barely escaped with our lives! It charged my brother, and he—well . . . I remember my brother's crumpled form on the ground."

Thor pauses in his telling of the story. Loki can tell Thor still feels guilt for dragging his little brother along for that crazy quest, but Thor will not admit it so Loki glares.

"I discovered, by chance, the weak spot beneath the Bilgeschnipe's chin! I did not carry Mjolnir at the time, but my sword pierced the softer scales and drove it back long enough to save my brother. If not for that discovery, I am almost certain that neither of us would be sitting here today!"

He finishes with this wide grin on his face, as if his cleverness rivaled that of the universe. The wine leaves a sour taste in Loki's mouth, and his hands grip the edge of the table in a kind of rage. Thor has skipped an entire gap in the story in order to paint himself in a more honorable light.

It is true that Loki nearly perished and that Thor saved him, but before any of that, Thor failed to mention that it was Loki's magic that had distracted the Bilgeschnipe from Thor moments earlier, that it was Loki's comment on weaknesses that led Thor to even look for one in the first place. If Loki hadn't been there, Thor would have been the one trampled and likely dead. Thor has left out Loki's role completely and made his "cherished" little brother out to be some damsel in distress.

Loki checks their comrade's expressions and only finds pride and delight shining in their eyes—and all of it is for Thor. He cannot understand why they accept Thor's boasting at the expense of Loki while they so thoroughly reject any attempt of his own.

In that moment, he wishes with every fiber that he is sitting where Thor sits right now and can bask in those gazes of pure admiration.

Instead, Loki's sits across from his brother while his presence remains hugely unnoticed. He stands, and it takes a full five seconds for even the first glance to turn his way.

"Retiring so early, Loki?" Fandral pipes up.

With a weariness not entirely faked, Loki nods. "Someone needs to have a good head on their shoulders tomorrow morning."

Fandral scoffs good-heartedly, but Loki can feel the weight of the others' disapproval bearing on his shoulders. "Will you not stay and drink, Brother?" Thor asks. "It was a fine victory today! We all should be proud!"

Loki glances down at his half-drained drink. The idea of getting drunk rarely appeals to him. That enjoyment is reserved for those who show great honor and courage in the face of great strife, and there is not one person at the table who would insist on Loki's mettle in any given situation. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sif smirk, and he believes they share the same thoughts.

"No," Loki says, "though don't hold back for my sake."

As he departs from the table, he hears Thor's laughter follow him the few steps away. All at once, the vengeful feeling rising within him snaps like a twig, and his hand twists an illusion of spiders onto all of their mugs. They won't notice immediately, and he doesn't intend to be there when they do.

He has already caught sight of the one he waited for, and he makes his way over to the secluded table in the dark corner, ignoring the chaos and shouts and hollers all around him.

Thor and his friends won't notice that Loki doesn't go upstairs to their rooms. They will have torn their gazes away from him the second he moved out of earshot, and Loki can imagine the poisonous words they will spit under his breath about his distasteful company. Once upon a time, Thor defended him. Now, Loki has eavesdropped enough to know it isn't the case anymore.

With a bitter edge to his smile, Loki takes a seat at the table in the corner. A hooded woman in the chair across from him stares back. He cannot place her face or see many of her features, but he sees the depth in her eyes that all Norns share. She knows the power of fate—and commands it to some degree.

As a child, he often felt vulnerable and tiny in the presence of a Norn, but now with years of experience with magic and knowledge, he values them only as anyone else—in how he can benefit from them.

His capability with magic has improved exponentially over the years, yet he still has not found a way to make himself wanted, like his brother. Shape-shifting and illusions, even spells of battle, do not touch upon a person's essence, and a good essence is what he needs. On the other hand, Norns deal with the magic of fate. He thinks they may be able to help him.

"Lady of the Norns," Loki greets as he sits, "it is a pleasure. I trust my request has not caused you too much trouble."

"No," the woman agrees. "Coming here was but a small trifle in comparison to the favor you granted the Norns." Her voice falls like soft starlight glinting on a glass surface. It soothes, calms, and feels as soft as the velvet of a noble's robes. "It must not have been easy to testify against a regulation on our people, considering the general mood towards us."

Frankly, Odin would have sided with the Norns in the end. Loki had merely interrupted a power play of the High Counsel. But Loki sees the benefit of keeping this information to himself, and he wants a return favor strongly enough to lie by omission. "It was of no concern for the second Prince of Asgard," he replies pleasantly—and it's true. It seems that no matter what he does, his reputation cannot fall any lower with the people of Asgard, who value everything his older brother is and despise anything else.

The woman inclines her head, and Loki catches a glimpse of sharp but elegant eyebrows drawn together. "Yes," she says slowly, "it is the way of the majority. People fear what they do not understand, and understanding takes courage, and determination. I am glad to hear we have such determined allies in Asgard, Prince Loki."

For a moment, Loki's heart stutters in his chest. She, a total stranger, paid him a great compliment, and she called him Loki. Then he remembers she did not actually call him courageous (only determined), and so he hides the raw emotion heading directly toward his expression. "Of course," he says while keeping his face stiff and clean as a board. "It is my pleasure."

A brief pause in the conversation may have implied her regret if he hadn't already known nothing surprises the Norns. "So, Prince of Asgard," she says, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your invitation?"

"I am constructing a spell, and I seek advice."

He draws in a deep breath because this will be the hard part. A chance glanced around confirms that no one is watching and that Thor and his friends still make fools of themselves at the table. The shadows obscure their conversation from unwanted attention. Even the waiters don't intrude.

Loki releases his breath, and focuses all his attention upon the woman of Nornheim. "It is as you say: people are distrusting of oddities. I wish for a spell that will ease people's minds, stretch their flexibility to change. Perhaps then, the prejudices against the Norns and other magic users will go away."

The woman stares at him for a long time. "You are a wielder of magic yourself, yes?" she asks.

"Yes," he relinquishes. He did not want to involve himself in the matter, for it reveals a vulnerability about himself that even those closest to him do not know. But the neglected, lonely part of him longs so much for this spell that will fix everything that he is willing to risk his fragile heart. "But," he adds, "it will change many things if I can accomplish this. I would use it for the benefit of the Norns as well."

Pale lips spread tightly into a smile, and her voice darkens to match that of a new moon. "This is dark magic you speak of, Loki Odinson," she whispers. "Are you sure you are qualified to handle it? Are you certain you will not cause more harm than good?"

Loki reads her posture for his next words. She sits properly in the chair without any immediate change and for the most part, appears relaxed and at ease as any stranger would. His request has not offended her—she is just asking. Loki answers. "I am able to conceal magic from any noteworthy being. The Gatekeeper Heimdall currently believes me to be upstairs sleeping in my room, and my father will prove no more troublesome. As for my qualifications, I do know what I ask and I have some semblance of care." Unlike my brother, he thinks with another glance at the table.

This time, the woman follows his gaze and lingers on Thor. Over the course of several moments, Loki begins to feel agitated that she won't return her attention to him. This spell has nothing to do with Thor. Thor will not know of it; he will only be affected by it like everyone else.

Eventually he realeases his tongue from his teeth. "Lady of the Norns, I understand your hesitance, but every good decision comes with some measure of risk. Surely you must know that more than most."

Finally she turns her gaze upon him, but her smile has relaxed into one of pity. Loki bristles.

"You are jealous of your brother," she says, and though it sounds like a question, Loki doubts she wants an answer. He bites back every insult his mind conjures and takes a deep breath.

"I only want to open Asgard's mind from prejudice. Nothing more." The conversation seems lost, so Loki prepares his gracious goodbyes. Perhaps she will not aid him now, but if he has need of a spell in the future, he does not want to burn the bridge he spent so long building. "I appreciate your answer," he says, "and will not press you further in hopes that our future interactions remain pleasant."

The Norn woman lifts a hand, and Loki moves to stand and help her to her feet. Then he catches the glint of moonlight through the window sparkle across a peculiar stone. On closer inspection, he recognizes a Norn Stone.

All words vanish from his throat.

"This is enchanted," the woman says, "to grant you what you need."

"You will fulfill my request?" Loki says, somewhat surprised.

The woman smiles and just holds the necklace closer to him. After a moment, Loki takes it carefully into his hands and holds it closer for inspection. The tavern's lights diminish its impact, but under the streaks of light from the window, the stone glitters an array of colors not unlike the Rainbow Bridge.

It is beautiful.

"Wear the necklace ere you sleep tonight. Tomorrow," the woman continues, "your brother will receive his final quest on his road to become an Einherjar. Accompany him, and its magic will serve you well."

For a moment, Loki is at a loss. "I thank you, Lady of the Norns."

"Do not thank me yet," she says. "Remember what I told you, young one. Understanding requires determination and courage, from all parties involved, as well as a great deal of trust. To trust one with what you would have them understand is no simple feat. And yet, upon acceptance, the blossoming love triumphs over any bitter patch of grass."

Loki suppresses the urge to raise an eyebrow at the simplicity behind her words. He, of course, knows the Norns to be infinitely wise, but surely they don't see him as a mere child in need of a bedtime story. He forces a smile and gently bunches up the strand of the necklace. To show his reverence of her pristine gift, he takes care in placing it in a pocket and ensuring its safety.

When he looks up, the Norn woman is gone, leaving only a solitary warmth in her place.

An hour later, Loki still does not wear the necklace.

He sits near the window and contemplates what the sorceress said. The Norn stone twinkles in the moonlight, but without the torches and lamps downstairs, he can admire its glass sphere filling with a spectrum of colors.

Loki wants to believe that the necklace will solve things. He wants to believe that people dislike him because as a child, he often pulled pranks and relished in chaos and mischief and now they refuse to give him a chance. One time, he went too far, out of petty jealousy, and cut Sif's hair to the scalp. He wants to believe she judges him so harshly because she hasn't forgiven him.

Loki's greatest fear is that the necklace will solve nothing.

Suspicions nag at his heart that people dislike him because he is Loki. That his very basis of character holds no redeeming value. That the necklace will broaden people's minds but not make Loki likable. He fears that at his own heart, he is unworthy of acceptance.

When he hears the door rustle as Thor approaches, Loki swallows down his deepest fears, and pulls the necklace around his neck.

By the time the door opens, Loki shoves the necklace under his tunic and leans back in his chair as if to admire the ever-changing view of Asgard's constellations. No night ever matches that of the last, as Asgard floats around through space without orbit. It is less strange for him to be watching the sky than holding a necklace.

"You're still awake?"

Thor's words slur with the mead in his body. At least he can stumble to his bed. Loki would not enjoy becoming Thor's crutch for the night. Thor should be ashamed when it happens, but Loki always ends up more embarrassed than Thor.

"Either I'm awake, or you are really drunk," Loki replies, and stands from the chair.

The teasing lacks the usual glint in his eye, and unfortunately, Thor notices. "Brother, I am sorry about earlier. I should not have chastised you so." He manages to pull off his tunic and sit on the bed. "Sometimes it's just hard to know whether you mean things or not."

The apology surprises Loki, but not much, because Thor is drunk. He moves to close the door that Thor left open. "Whether I mean things or not?" he asks.

"When you tease us, sometimes you sound so serious."

Loki's hands tremble as he twists the handle of the door. He thanks the stars that Thor is too drunk to notice, and then makes his way to the adjacent bed to prepare for sleep. The unfamiliar necklace bounces on his chest as he walks, and he wonders if its magic already works on Thor now.

"Thor, when you receive your Einherjar quest, will you choose me to accompany you?"

Elbow cast over his forehead, Thor glances at him. "Why?"

Loki avoids telling him about what the Norn woman told him. "I would rather you choose me to keep watch on your back than one of your typical warrior friends. They won't see things that I will notice."

"Oh?" Thor chuckles, but the grin spreading on his face is real. "You know, traditionally an Einherjar candidate complete his quest alone."

"You have the choice of one companion," Loki reminds him. He doesn't bother to remove his tunic because when they reach Asgard in the morning, a fresh change of clothes will await him in the palace. Besides, he never understands Thor's comfort in removing his clothes so easily. Well-built or not, Loki could never relinquish his sense of privacy. "Will you choose me, Brother?" he asks again because Thor's breathing starts to resemble snoring.

"Yes," Thor murmurs. "I can think of no other person I would rather have at my back."

Thor hasn't even taken his boots off, and Loki withholds a sigh. Silence befalls them for several minutes. The light of the moon slowly travels across the wooden floor of the inn room, and breaths fill the room with a lethargic air.

The bed adjacent to his creaks as Thor shifts. "Did something trouble you tonight, Loki? The spiders you left on our drinks—"

"Go to sleep, Thor."

And he does.

Author's Note on my W4 Headcannon:I know that a lot of people are not fond of the W4 and Thor bullying. To be honest, I'm not either, and that's not what's happening here. In the beginning, they're all thinking for themselves, and expecting Loki to do the same. That's neglecting, yes, but not bullying.

Then, Loki was trying to piss them off. It was never stated, never even implied to the group, but Sif sensed his motive and she retaliated. Neither of them were right, but both of them had their reasons. [More on Sif: My headcannon is that Sif and Loki butt heads more than the others (especially where Thor is concerned) because they share many traits and see the negative aspects of themselves mirrored within each other.]

To me, the W4 are Thor's friends exclusively. Loki is their friend by default. Perhaps a long time ago, they would have given him a chance, but several pranks and misunderstandings later, they don't like Loki. They won't go out of their way to bother him, but they won't try to include him either. Thor forces them together, and fails to take responsibility for the group's dynamics. Mostly because he's oblivious (not an excuse), all he sees is Loki suddenly attacking all of his friends, so naturally he defends them. His failure to recognize Loki's needs adds fuel to the fire in a never-ending cycle.

In short, Loki needs to learn that acceptance goes both ways, and Thor needs to learn to look outside himself. After much thought, I decided (not to make the W4 bullies) to add more discontent to the group than I normally would. I'm sorry if that pisses people off, but just know I don't think the W4 are bullies! In a happier world, they would see beyond Loki's mask to the sensitivity underneath (Loki wouldn't even be wearing a mask actually) and give him a HUGE group hug!

Okay, ramble over! I feel sufficiently defended. XD Chapter this coming Thursday, then it will go to once a week.