There was never a point in Thor's life when he'd decided a life protecting Asgard would be a life well spent. But he does remember the long awaited adrenaline that had built up over the years of waiting for his first real battle. Odin had taken him along countless times, and kept him hidden in the background, while he watched awe-struck as the Asgardian warriors defeated the enemy with the ease of centuries practice.

And then the mighty mjlonir his Father wielded, leaving the enemies defenseless and caused kings to fall to their knees in surrender. Thor was envious, and it was not his place but someday he knew his day would come. It came sooner than expected on the day of his twenty-second birthday. He was young by most standards, and looking back on this Thor has a hindering suspicion that Odin was hasty to show off what his eldest son, heir to the throne could do at so young an age. However, it was what he failed to do that shocked their people that day.

Thor's head falls back against the plush pillows, his mood is dry — an unpleasant contrast to his usual chipper and his battle armor lay in a discarded heap on the floor, where Loki scoops down to slowly pick them up, draping them neatly over the chair lonely in the corner of the elder brother's chambers.

"You can't keep doing this Th-"

Thor's head snapped up almost instantly, a scowl on his face that clearly read remember-who's-the-oldest-here, "I do what I want, Loki." these words cause the little trickster's body to move, slender and graceful - Thor notices something about this, unlike him his brother is not built as a son of Odin, more… the word isn't feminine, but it relates in a way that Thor describes it beautiful, a strictly feminine descriptive when one is talking about another being.

"Brother." it's a soft purr escaping Loki's mouth as he slides down onto the bed, head propped against the palm of his hand.

The heir to Asgard stiffened, "Simple nerves of battle. That's all." short and sweet, he made to turn away, but a cold hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.

"Yes, nerves of battle that sent you running for home-"

"Mind your tone."

"But it's true." Loki tilted his head slightly, and Thor could tell it was as if daring his elder brother to question this. "It didn't feel like you thought it would. It wasn't… what you were anticipating, what you were waiting for and expecting all this time, and don't lie to me, brother, for I know how you dreamt of the battlefield and of returning and concurring hero to Asgard and have the women worship at your feet, they would want you and you would be the envy of all, there was such ferocity in your eyes, such passion I doubted nothing could stop you."

Thor's eyes downcasted, and he could not protest. His brother's words were true to the letter, and he felt less like the warrior he was intended to be. He felt wrong, but justifiably so. He'd gone to battle, ready to show Odin that he was the true heir, that someday he would do good the name of Asgard, but the screams coming from the children of that world, seeking a Father who'd never return, or a mother who'd run off he found himself now in fear of the man he called Father himself, and the one he'd so adored and aspired to be. And he'd ran, become a blurr of red in the night sky and now a heap huddled in the covers.

"Brother," the younger's hand slid into his, and Thor felt their fingers intertwine, but did not fight it as he allowed his shimmering blue hues to slip close, and enjoy the simple comfort that Loki offered, and then, the softest kiss was placed upon his lips, barely registered and had it not been for the cool breath upon his skin Thor's sure he would have missed it, but the tingling lingered there even as he felt the weight of his brother's head lying against his chest; "I'm here."