Norwegian - English

Hver Dag Rutine - Everyday Routine

Everything was the same. The palace. The village. The skies, the forest, the streets, the people. It was all so familiar as it had been for years and years of his life. Everything in Asgard was the same, except for Loki.

While his surrounding remained the same, he was completely and utterly different. Everything thing he had been through in the past few years had changed him from the inside out. He wasn't the same quiet, second-to-Thor prince anymore. He wasn't his tag along brother. He wasn't the second in line for the throne. Loki wasn't even welcome here anymore. If anyone had known he was sneaking around Asgard, enjoying a taste a freedom for the first time in two years, he'd be thrown back into his cell within a heartbeat... and that was the best case scenario. He'd be lucky if he got enough mercy to even live.

But freedom had a high price nowadays, and he'd take what he could get, even if it had the risk of possible flogging or death. And what did he have to lose anyway? He lost his family, his friends, his title as prince, and most importantly, he lost his mother. The only person he truly cared about was gone. Well, Thor was another topic. He didn't know how he felt about Thor, or where he stood. Yes, he cared to a degree, and yes, he still called him his brother. The rage was still buried deep inside of Loki however, and he didn't see it completely diminishing anytime soon.

Not only was he confused about how he felt about his brother, he was confused about himself in general. Did he still desire the power he's been so strongly craving? Did he still want to go to extreme heights to get it? One thing was for sure though, everything felt different. His rage was contained enough so that it wasn't blinding him, and Loki could see the benefits of retiring from his power hungry days and just letting himself admit his defeat. Was he wrong in what he did? He knew not. He didn't know anything anymore.

And maybe that's why this was the optimal time for being pretend-dead, even if he did feel like a stranger in his homeland. Technically, he was. Loki had been getting by with using his powers and tricks to morph into discreet characters. Often, it was easiest to take form of a guard or just a generic Asgardian and keep his head down so not to be noticed. As of now, Loki was in the form of his go-to generic guard. His hair was a light brown, but it was hidden by the typical Asgardian helmet. He had stubble across his face and a deep and dense brow that always seemed to be pulled together in intense focus. Basically, he looked like every other of the hundreds of guards they had.

Loki pulled open the giant brass doors of the palace library and walked into one of his favorite places on Earth. Walls curved around him, stretching both upwards in immense height and outwards to give the room a spacious look. Every single inch was covered with books on multiple levels. There was a giant fireplace in the middle with two spiraling staircases leading to the upstairs loft on either side. Self after shelf was placed in rows all around, those brimmed with books and scrolls as well. The familiar scent of paper and ink filled the air and reminded Loki of the childhood days where he'd spend day after day reading, ignoring Thor's persistent whines for Loki to come play with him outside.

Whisking away the memory from his past, Loki skimmed the rows of books, looking for something that interested him and he hadn't read yet. Lately, he had been reading a lot. There wasn't much to do when everyone you knew thought you were dead and you were an escaped convict. Reading always gave him a solitude away from his world, more than anything else ever could. When buried deep in a book, he could forget his life and his strife. He could transport his mind to a whole different realm altogether; one only for him.

After about ten minutes, he had a good pile of books. Scouring the room for an empty table away from any sign of life, Loki stumbled with his hands full, letting the books fall onto the giant oak table that was completely empty. He thought about what he wanted to start on first. He had a collection of both History and Old Asgardian Classic Fiction tales. Those were both his favorite genres.

Deciding on a history novel about Vanaheim, Loki opened the dusted leather cover of his first book for the day and turned to the first Chapter, smiling to himself just at the thought of a new book for him waiting there, ready to be read. "Nerd", Thor used to joke with him while laughing at how excited he would get about books. Young Loki would just roll his eyes and tune his brother out, promising to play with him later.

Within half of an hour, Loki was already a third of the way through the book. Over the years, he'd gotten unusually fast at reading, making reading more even easier. What did the humans call it? A guilty pleasure?

A sound from his right interrupted Loki. He turned to see a small figure of a girl jump up on the seat right next to him, not even a foot away. Loki scowled at the young child and scooted his chair away as far as he could. The girl just looked at him with a disgustingly cute smile, her long brown curly hair pulled back in a bow and her dress a bright white. Loki continued to frown at her, wondering what this creature wanted.

"What are you reading?" she asked in a high sweet voice. Loki stared back, unamused.

"None of your business, child. Now run along." he said, making the shooing motion with his hand and returning the words in his book. He read about two sentences before he heard the sound of a chair scraping across the marble floors. He sighed in pure irritation before looking up to see the young Asgardian girl had scooted her chair closer, closing the gap that Loki had originally created. He rolled his eyes and looked at the girl who still looked purely happy and entertained.

"Where is your mother, girl?"

The little girl giggled like it was the funniest thing ever. Loki jumped from the unexpected shrill laugh of the tiny creature in front of him.

"You're funny." she said, showing him a small grin where she had a tiny tooth missing. He glared at her, repulsed. Kids... he never understood them. He was never the small naive helpless midget that most children were. Loki was always more insightful, more cunning, more to himself.

"What are you reading?" she asked, proceeding in trying to make conversation with him. She reached forward to touch his book, but he pulled it away to the other side of the table in one swift movement. The girl thought this was hilarious, and jumped up to stand on the chair so she could better reach over. Loki groaned in frustration and yanked the book away further, but she just took this as an invitation to keep playing this game in which she thought they were playing.

"Small little creature of repulsiveness..." he muttered as the little girl continued to laugh. She got a grip of his book and held on tightly. Loki stood up and tried to pull it away, but she had a firm grip and followed wherever he tried to move the book to. Her hands were rapped around the binding tightly and she relentlessly giggled as he tried to pull the book up, out of her reach. This didn't even work as she just held on tighter and was lifted with the book, her feet leaving the ground. She thought that was just oh-so hilarious, but Loki sighed, not entertained while holding the small Asgardian up above the ground by the book.

She craned her neck to look at him, her eyes sparkling blue with amusement. Loki looked down at her grin with a missing tooth and her tiny nose and her tiny ears. The ridiculousness of the situation hit him, and he had to bite his lip from laughing.

No... he scolded himself inside his head. Laughing is a weakness. Children are a weakness.

Before Loki could try to quench his urge to laugh, there was a woman's voice from the entrance of the library.

"Helena! Where are you?" the woman called out. The little girl, Helena as Loki presumed, dropped to the ground and ran to the woman who was most likely her mother.

"Where in Valhalla have you been, you silly girl?" the woman asked lightly, lifting the girl into her arms and tickling her.

"With my friend." the girl said. The woman turned her gaze upwards to see the "friend" her daughter was speaking of, but by then, Loki had stealthily slipped behind a bookcase to observe them. The woman looked around before gazing down at the girl in confusion.

"Alright, vakker." she said to her daughter, using the Norwegian name for "beautiful". It sounded as if the woman didn't quite believe her, and for this Loki was glad. He could never be too careful these days. He watched them leave, watching the girls face turn to disappointment when she looked back one more time and didn't see Loki, or the form he had taken on anyway. Once they were gone, Loki sneaked out the back door, hurrying through the palace hallways before he could be caught by another small person. This is what he had to be careful for. He couldn't let his guard down, especially for something as petty as a curious child.

After the run in with the child at the library, Loki sunk deep into the forest behind a path at the back of the palace. It was a refreshing place that grew wild without maintenance like the rest of Asgard's main city. Everything was usually made of copper or metal or gold. The paths were perfectly paved and while there were trees, they were strategically placed for perfect symmetry. It was beautiful and orderly, but after a while, Loki yearned for something natural. The forest granted him this. He loved the dense area of trees and vines and the blurs of green and brown around him.

He and Thor had loved to come here as children. They'd spar with wooden makeshift swords and dream of the day when they got to use a real sword and fight real monsters. Now that those days had come and had torn them apart, it seemed much less glamorous. Not to get Loki wrong, he loved a good battle, but it could get ugly at times. Sometimes ugly was the price for order, however.

The forest was rarely used now, Loki being the exception. He loved practicing his magic here nowadays. He'd create clones of himself and scatter them about or he'd work on created green fire or his defensive spells. All of which were tricks he learned from his mother. It was the one piece of her that he had left within himself.

After playing around with his magic, Loki ducked low and tip toed into the royal stables. They'd kept his horse in the same stable, so he'd visit her. If it was to be found that a horse was missing however, it was better that it was one of the extra ones instead of his own. So after visiting her, he'd take another and go for a ride through the beat down paths with overgrowth. He almost enjoyed having to use less kept trails and areas better. They were wild and themselves. They weren't controlled. In that way, he had something similar within himself after going off the grid. While it was a lonely life, it was an uncontrolled one, and Loki enjoyed that.

This was his life now. Read, horse back ride, magic, reflect, repeat. It was a life of solitude, and sometimes could be a jail cell of its own, but not bad at all. He was content enough that he was okay with staying this way for a while. Surely he couldn't do this forever, but for now, a break was nice.

No matter what he did each day, Loki always ended in the same place as the sun set: his mother's memorial monument. It was in the yard with all of the other king and queen's memorials. Her's was an intricate statue of her with flowers and vines coming up the statue on all sides. It was both beautiful and strong, a blade in one hand and gathering of flowers in the other. It had only taken the kingdom a week to complete it to its perfection, and now, it was one of Loki's new favorite places. He'd talk to her here, hoping she was listening. There was no use in lying to the dead. What else could they do? If she was listening, she was a nice person to talk to. She wouldn't judge him or tell him what to do. She wouldn't have even done those things if she were alive, but Loki felt safe talking out loud to her now. He'd admit the things he never wanted to. He'd admit he missed how things were and sometimes, just sometimes, he wished he could go back and undo it all. He'd admit that he did in fact care if his brother lived or died. He loved his family. He was just... lost.

After the sun set completely, Loki would stand from the soft green grass beneath his mother's memorial and would walk into the night and towards the forest once more. He'd keep his head down, focusing on staying in whatever form he chose so not to be recognized. He would pass tree after tree, but keep walking, deeper and deeper. Loki easily dodged roots and walks around underbrush. The routine was embedded in his mind now. He'd walked this path many times now, to the place he went back to every night.

It wasn't until he reached a grouping of rocks on the ground when Loki stopped. This was his marker for when he was close. Turning left and looking up into the trees, he was able to make out the shape of the tree house. It was his tree house now, seeing as him and Thor had completely forgotten where they'd built it when they were kids. He found it out of pure luck three days after his presumed death. Before that, Loki had been staying in an abandoned storage shack, but even that was too close to the city since he couldn't sleep in disguise.

Now was about the time where Loki would allow his disguise to fall away and he'd resume to be himself. His jet black hair was getting long and annoying him. He could slick it back with magic, but it still brushed against his shoulders every time he turned. He was able to steal some clothes from his old room, so he wasn't short on those. Right now, he was wearing a tight dark green long sleeved shirt and leather vest that was laced up in the front with plain black pants. It felt good to be himself at the end of every day.

Climbing the ladder to the top, Loki returned to the small wooden house in the tree. Anyone who glanced on the inside could tell that Loki had been living there. There were stolen books scattered about, a mound of blankets spread out on the floor for him to sleep, food taken in secret from the palace's kitchen sitting on the table Thor and him had made for the tree house when they were young, and sheathes of daggers lying up against the walls.

With a flick of his wrist, Loki illuminated the candles sitting on the window sill of the big window with a green flame. The tree house glowed a green that would seem eerie to most, but it comforted him. With the dull light flickering and sending strange shadows of trees across the wood of the floors and walls, Loki collapsed on his bed of blankets and pulled one over his body, making a folded up blanket his pillow. Loki watched the light flicker, feeling fatigue set in. His life wasn't too bad. Better than a cell. Not as good as a prince, but once again, not too bad.

Trying to make himself believe that, Loki's eyes slowly closed and he drifted off to sleep.

~X~

Thor lunged forward, nearly catching Fandral's shoulder with his sparring blade. He dodged last second however, and spun out of the way. Fandral darted to the other side of Thor before he could turn and tapped his own sparring sword on his shoulder.

"Aha! Not so mighty without your hammer, are you?" he gloated. Thor rolled his eyes and sent deep tremors of chuckles through his body. He turned to smile at Fandral who looked mighty pleased with himself.

"Well, I am sparring against one of Asgard's most prestigious swordsmen." he said, making Fandral raise his eyebrows rise cockily.

"Right you are, my friend. And not to bad with the ladies too, if we are going on a tangent here." he added, winking over at Sif who sat on the bench by the sparring yard with an annoyed but amused look on her face.

"Oh get over yourself." she joked. Thor looked around at his friend who were all teasing Fandral now, Volstagg even reaching forward to mess his "perfect" hair as he claimed.

"Oh enough all of you!" Fandral said, laughing. "If you all think you're so funny, try to take me on in a match? Never defeated." he bragged, puffing out his chest.

"Well don't say that. There was one person who always beat you." Sif said, raising her eyebrows at him. Thor felt his chest clench. Loki. He was the only one who could stand there and watch Fandral defeat all of his friends, staying back quietly before taking him on and dominating in a match, a master of any sort of blade. The fact that he was dead was still hard for Thor to accept, even after a couple of months. He had held his dying brother in his arms and had listened to him apologize to Thor, and admit that he had done it for him. He died for Thor. To be fair, it was after multiple attempts to kill him himself. Loki was unpredictable and not able to be understood though. Thor still didn't know why he ever did the things he did. He did know that he missed him though. Nothing could change that Loki had been his best friend and brother his entire life.

"Well okay. If we are counting Loki, then yes. He always seemed to have a better hand on swords than, I. But only him!" Fandral added, sheathing his sword once more and walking forward to take a drink from his water pouch. Thor watched his friends converse, but ever since the mention of Loki, his mind was far off elsewhere. Why? Why had he died for him? Why was he trying to kill him one second and dying for him the next? The aspect had been on Thor's mind for a while now.

"Thor?" he heard Sif's voice. His friends turned to him with concerned gazes, realizing something was wrong. Maybe it was the way he was quiet or the way his smile faded from his face, but they could definitely sense it.

"Sorry, sorry. Just thinking. I have to go, my friends. I am sorry. I will catch up with you tomorrow then?" Thor said in his deep rumbling voice. He tried to make it seem light and casual, but it still sounded distressed. He just needed to be alone for now.

"Um... Sure." Vostagg said. His friends continued to follow him out with their gazes as Thor exited the arena and started on the path to the bifrost. Whenever he felt off, he'd go and talk to Heimdall. Something about speaking with a man who could see everything opened up Thor's mind to knew thoughts and cleared his mind for new ideas. It also comforted him to know what Jane was doing as well. Eventually the feeling would pass, and Thor would be fine again. Nothing would change the empty pain that he constantly felt from the knowledge that he could've potentially had his brother back, but death had gotten to him first.