Had a bout of Loki feels. This came spilling out at 5AM.

A hint of spoilers for The Avengers, and some Loki-centric angst, but aside from that, no warnings. Not quite sure where this came from, but I hope you enjoy!

As always, I own not.

They ventured away from the palace, shunning the designated training grounds in lieu of more…rustic surroundings. Thor pushed them like a shepherd herding a flock, deeper and deeper into the great city below their home, until they finally broke away from the royal districts and found themselves in a much quieter world.

Loki stood silent against a tree and observed his brother's fighting techniques, eyes darting about the field as Thor thrust a dulled training blade into the air and Sif continued to dodge it.

The elder prince growled in frustration but smiled despite it all, taking an example from his female counterpart and switching suddenly to an attempt at agility.

Loki smirked when Thor whipped around in an arc, coming down as he did so to try and sweep Sif off her feet.

Their lithe friend laughed as she jumped over the blade and brought a foot forward an instant later, kicking it away from its owner.

Nearby, Fandral and Volstagg laughed at the folly of their prince, and even Hogun, normally so silent and expressionless, chuckled when Thor proceeded to pout in his defeat.

Loki shook his head when Thor loudly boasted his ability to defeat all of them at once in mock-battle, his loss to Sif a powerful arrow piercing his armored ego. The Warrior's Three took on the challenge. And Sif, the previous victor, raised her own blade and beckoned the Thunderer to "bring his best".

To Loki, it only seemed to take the lot of them about an hour (or less, judging by the sun) to take what was supposed to be true, disciplined, rough, strict training, and turn it into a barbarian's brawl.

Took longer than I'd initially expected, actually….

He looked away from the sunlight cutting through the trees as Thor called to him to join the fray at his side.

Loki smiled at the fierce delight in his brother's eyes.

And shook his head again, with emphasis.

"Oh no, this is your challenge, to take the four them yourself. I will take the wise road and watch, brother. Perhaps I'll get a few laughs by the time you're done."

Thor straightened and the look of excitement faded, although his smile did not. He raised the sword in Loki's direction and called across the field:

"Will you simply watch when I am King? Can I not call on my own brother—my advisor—to be at my side in a skirmish?"

Thor's bellowing inquiry struck Loki like a wave of nausea. Indeed, the firstborn son of Odin would be ascending to the throne soon.

But what he would not be doing was-

"I would hope that your first decree as King will not be to declare war against anyone, brother. As your advisor, I'd strongly advise against it."

His response elicited a hearty laugh from the master of the lighting hammer, the deep chuckles like small bursts of thunder in the bright golden day.

Loki looked on in silence as Thor waved their conversation away, redirecting his attention to what he did best: battle.

The clashing of old metal swords and partially wooden shields echoed through the edges of the Elder Forest, carrying across the wind to the nearby Commons.

The younger prince fought a yawn as the noise escalated along with the violence.

Rustling through the trees behind him brought his spine straight as an arrow, his keen hearing picking up the sounds of quiet chatter. A light giggle followed the mumbles and Loki pulled himself from the tree to look into the forest.

Ducking and weaving around the large trunks were five children, three boys and two girls, pulling each other along, heading straight for the field where Thor and his friends trained.

He took quick note of the simple tunics that all- even the girls—wore. These were children from the lower houses, the Common districts, come to investigate the loud noises that wracked their forest and shook their homes.

Casting a glance at his brother, Loki considered alerting them to the little ones. Their skirmish was dangerous territory for such younglings.

Thor delightfully parried a sword thrust his way by Fandral, a laugh on his tongue as the others sought to overwhelm him together.

Loki sighed and stepped into the trees.

Better to intercept the small group of curious commoners instead.

He stopped before them in an open space between the thick trees, his boots crunching the fallen leaves and stopping the lot dead in their tracks. Loki observed their widening eyes and knew they recognized him instantly. The oldest of them only looked to be ten or eleven years, the youngest, a few years below.

It was one of the girls that first attempted a haphazard curtsy, her boy's tunic making the attempt even more awkward than her obvious lack of experience. The others followed suit quickly, the eldest boy stepping forward to bow (not quite low enough, but close) and greet him with a shaky attempt at formality:

"Prince Loki, it's…it's an honor."

With a low nod Loki gave the child his own acknowledgment, appreciative of the boy's manners despite his common upbringing. He ignored the continued ring of metal in through the trees behind him, and determined to capture the young group's attention and hold it, praying that Thor would end his festivities earlier than usual.

"Your name, little one."

The boy blinked and appeared suddenly nervous.

"Nari, sir. I, we…we're from the Commons. We were playing nearby and heard the sounds of battle—"

Loki raised a silencing hand.

"Nari, is it? There is no battle. However, it is in your best interest to resume your play back in the Commons."

Even as he made the suggestion the younger of the children were wandering forward, intent on the ruckus and obviously ignoring him. Only Nari and the elder of the girls gave him their attention, and only Nari dared look him in the eye and nod at his words.

He turned when he heard the children talk amongst themselves, continuing towards the trees and the field beyond. Loki sighed, unused to the chore of distracting such young minds.

Without warning, he lifted his palm and turned it over, a blue flame igniting in its center. Nari's quiet gasp was echoed by the girl's sharp startle, and as the other three hurried back to witness the fuss, Loki realized his instinct was well-followed.

These children had never before seen magic.

Loki felt a sudden stab of pity for them.

In an instant he was surrounded, questions spilling from every mouth and Loki could not help but smile at the unexpected excitement. The younger girl called louder than the others,

"Does it hurt, Prince Loki?"

And he found himself lowering to a crouch before her, a knee hitting the leafy forest floor and a strange tight warmth filling his chest.

"Well, you see, this fire—"

A wind swept the words into the air around them, the loud thrum of power itself coursing through the ground beneath their feet. Thunder seemed to crash from the cloudless sky, a steady, low hum its companion and its echo.

Loki knew the source of the sound. He felt it in his veins and the hairs on his neck reacted accordingly.

The group that had encased him with their small bodies and stared up at him with curious, enchanted eyes disappeared with the hum of the wind, voices calling to each other behind him as they raced through the trees.

Loki fisted his palm and stood, taking just a few strides to meet the edge of the tree line, and the warmth in his chest went cold as he saw just what he expected:

The little ones stood at Thor's feet, chubby fingers pointing into the air where Mjolnir was gripped and held high. Volstagg was just scrambling up from his place upon the field's grass, his shield ruptured by the surprise blow.

Loki shook his head and sneered to no one.

Fair practice did not call for such power as Mjolnir's. But it seemed- since the day Thor had first lifted the mighty weapon- that he could function without its handle in his hand, its power flowing into his being like a thousand strikes of lightning.

He looked on as Thor smiled down at the enthralled children, lowering Mjolnir for the two boys to reach out and touch-

Loki furrowed his brow and blinked, counting the four bodies that surrounded his brother. The moment he realized one was missing was the same moment a hand came darting from behind him, tugging slightly on the elbow of his sleeve.

As he turned Nari immediately stepped back and bowed, a seeming apology for daring to touch without permission.

Loki quickly dismissed the act and focused instead on the whirling combination of curiosity, hope and determination in the boy's gaze.

"Sir….could you…show me that again? The blue fire?"

The boy's spine straightened when Loki angled his head to look down at him, and Nari held his eyes still. He suspected that in the Commons, such a gesture was a sign of respect. In the palace, the child would have been scolded for having the audacity to hold his head high to the son of Odin.

Nari's inquiry lingered in the air between them and he finally conceded, lowering himself back to the ground and raising his palm before the child's face.

With a blink the flame flickered to life, the color of ice swirling with that of the clearest Asgaardian sky . The life of the fire reflected in the eyes of the boy that smiled in awe and studied it closely.

"So…does it hurt?"

Loki chuckled then, amused. He watched as Nari lifted a hand towards the flame, a look of confusion etching across his face as the boy realized he felt no heat.

"Not at all. As I was trying to say, this fire does not burn. That is not its intent or its purpose. "

Nari dared to come closer then, fingers dancing at the edge of the fire and moving with the flickering energy. He tore his eyes from the spectacle and met Loki's once again:

"What is its purpose?"

A little scholar tucked away in the Commons…

Smiling even as Thor's hearty laughter rumbled behind them, Loki reached forward to pull the boy's hands together, palms up.

"It is not meant to burn, but to enlighten. That is what the knowledge of the magical arts is intended to bring. That is what this flame represents."

Steadying the boy's hands he held the small flame above the open palms.

"Breathe deep, clear you thoughts, and trust me."

Nari exhaled and Loki let the flame fall from his hand, coming to float and flicker in the small inexperienced grasp beneath his own. The fire receded but did not die, the blue dulled but did not disappear. Loki watched as the child stared wide-eyed at his own control of the magical flame, a grin ripping across his face and a proud delight in his hazel orbs.

"This is the first lesson a master of magic must learn. Magic is knowledge, and not violence. It can be used in battle, but that is not why it should be learned. The calm control necessary to wield magic is something most of the great warriors of Asgaard will never have."

The hum from the field lingered in his ears and Loki willed it away to stand before Nari and nod down at him.

"The blue fire does not burn. Remember that, and you could become more than what is expected of you."

Lowering his hands, Nari let the fire die out in the breeze, his wide grin easing into an appreciative and understanding smile. The young boy bowed (lower this time), and spoke with far less hesitation that before.

"I'll remember, Prince Loki. Thank you."

Loki watched as the child backed away and nodded to him once before turning to rejoin his friends.

As laughter filled the training field he resumed his place against the tree, content to observe Thor and their friends entertain the lot of young commoners and consider the oldest of them.

Though the boy was probably born to a farmer or merchant, he seemed fearless and intelligent. Loki was not too proud to acknowledge the unique strengths and skills of those that lived in the Common district, but he had not expected to find such a rare and raw talent among them.

As Nari stood witness to the crackling energy of Mjolnir, Loki considered the idea of taking the boy under his wing after the coronation.

He would need something to occupy his time when he was not keeping Thor out of trouble.

They smothered him as he walked, hot breaths filling the air and meeting his nose as they shouted and grumbled and growled. Guards lined the path to the palace steps, holding the people at bay, but he could still feel them.

He could still smell the stench of their anger.

Loki pulled against the restraints on his wrists for the first time since Stark placed him in them, and the action was met with a hand on his shoulder. Thor's strong fingers silently discouraged his struggle and pushed him slightly ahead, where the shining gold of his former home stood to witness his punishment and shame.

Shame.

He wanted to spit at the ground, at the boots of those guards that stood erect and motionless and so very condescending. The metal latched over his mouth served only to enhance this urge tenfold. He growled against it, eyes darting as he walked, ears picking up the sneers and taunts and cries of disbelief.

They called him traitor. They called him enemy.

Their prince no more.

He did not care.

He wanted only to escape the stink of their bodies, to find silent solace in whatever isolation Odin was likely to place him in. The noise was insufferable.

Loki looked back at Thor with an icy glare, receiving another gesture to continue moving. He swept the crowd that surrounded the city street one more time.

And saw it.

The flicker of something bright and blue.

As he passed Loki saw the boy step forward, just a bit older now, but the maturity in his eyes seemingly tripled. Nari stood with the small flame highlighting his face, and Loki knew it was so that he would more easily recognize him.

And those eyes, those mature, knowledgeable eyes, held nothing but disappointment.

Loki glared then, seeing red, holding those disillusioned eyes in his own as he passed him by.

Trust me.

With a blink he looked away, stared at the golden street and ignored the existence of all those around him.

Even as he approached the steps where Odin stood waiting, the woman he once called 'Mother' at his side, he could not bring himself to look up from the gleaming reflection below him.

Thor came to rest a hand against the back of his head, and Loki wished for the energy to fight the unwanted touch.

Odin's booming voice resonated over the crowd.

Loki did not hear the words spoken.

Even when he finally gave in, tore his gaze from the floor to stare defiantly up at his judge and not-Father, even when he met the saddened gaze of Frigga and the cold, solemn eye of Odin himself, Loki could only see the sky-blue of the flame in Nari's hand, the sharp disappointment flickering in his young eyes.

And even as Odin spoke, and all the world went silent around him, Loki could only hear his own words, an echo from a past existence, from a time that he both resented and missed.

The blue fire does not burn.

He felt the pain regardless.

A/N: In Norse myth, Nari is the name of Loki's son by his wife Sigyn. It is believed that he has another named Narfi, but it is also a possiblity that they are simply two names for the same son.