Thanks for all the reviews everyone!

Title: Mistletoe.

Warnings: Loki/Thor. Violence. One naughty word (but its not even really that naughty).

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Authors Note: A male Grizzly Bear is called a 'boar' (a female is a 'sow'). I didn't misspell 'bear.'

Son of Author's Note: This story makes even more sense if you know the story of Loki, Balder and the Mistletoe.

It is spring! All of Asgard is in the ecstatic throes of celebration as it reawakens from winter. Every mead hall in Asgard's capital is festooned with garlands and banners, every hearth burning constantly, roasting meats and warming mead for the spring revels.

In the hot, golden mead hall Thor sits across the wooden table, sweet-smelling and sticky from spilled wine. Beside him is his best friend, Balder, but at just this moment he is not paying much attention to him.

Instead, his eyes fall on Loki, sitting in the window, slender legs tucked up underneath him, hair loosely braided, long, pale fingers stroking the pages of his book. Thor's whole body stirs and ruffles with those pages.

Loki looks up when he senses his not-brother's gaze. Something about the way Thor is looking at him makes him flush, and look down at his book. But a moment later he looks furtively up, and a little smile flickers on his lips. He looks away again quickly, at the warm green meadows outside the window, blue in the nighttime.

Thor strikes Balder on the shoulder.

"Did you see him smile at me?" he asks, grinning. Balder laughs softly.

"Better be sure he was smiling at you before you start boasting," Balder rejoins.

"Of course he was smiling at me," Thor says. "Who else would he be smiling at?"

"Sometimes people just smile."

"Haven't you learned yet, Balder, that when the prettiest thing in the room smiles, it's always smiling at me?" Thor says, pushing his chair away from the table. He gets up and goes to Loki and snatches the book from his hand.

"What is this?" he says. "There're no pictures in here and what are all these squiggly lines?" He does an exaggerated impression of a big, dumb man. Loki's eyes sparkle in amusement.

Balder watches silently from across the room, alone.

Since their youth, Balder and Thor have been very dear friends. They are not friends in the same way that Loki and Thor are. They do not spend all their time together. Nevertheless, they are very alike and that likeness bonds them. They are the two strongest of the Aegir youth. They are prodigies of their culture. They hold combat and war in the highest esteem and they value above all else honor, loyalty, and duty to family, friends, and nation. Their similarities have led to a close, deep friendship. There is no one on Asgard Thor trusts as much as he trusts Balder.

Balder is the only one that Thor and Loki trust with their secret. And Balder's friendship has been infinitely valuable. When Thor went with his father to the Confluence on Alfheim, Balder willingly carried secret letters between the two. One night, when the palace was locked down and all magic blocked because of a Jotun scare, Balder distracted the guard in the hall as Loki slips from his room to Thor's. More importantly, Balder is the only friend around whom they can really, truly, be themselves. Around Balder, they do not have to hide.

Their likeness in manhood makes Balder the young man that Thor goes to talk to about Loki. Like Thor, Balder is strong, aggressive, physically powerful and he understands Thor's overwhelming attraction to Loki in a way that Thor doesn't think he could explain. Balder sees how beautiful Loki is and because he is strong and earthy, and he too feels the pull of Loki's airy magic. When Thor describes how Loki's cold skin warms under the furs, how his body moves, how his name sounds when Loki says it, Balder listens with attention. He slaps his friend on the back with a grin, and tells him he's 'a lucky damn dog.'

For two years, Thor has boasted to his best friend about his secret love for the most beautiful of the Aegir court. If Thor were more careful, he might have begun to realize that Balder listens with more and more attention to Thor's descriptions. He might notice that his slaps on the back have become fewer and more reluctant. He might have begun to realize that when Balder tells him what a damn lucky dog he is, the words are edged with longing and envy. But he does not notice these things. Thor is arrogant and confident but more than that, he is trusting and he is loyal and he assumes every heart is as loyal as his own.

It is his assumption that every heart is as loyal as his own that leads him to believe he has nothing to fear the night that Odin announces Loki's betrothal to Balder. He sits silently at the table with his father and best friend thinking that it is the most blessed fortune that smiles on him because Balder is his best friend and there is no way in the world that Balder will really go through with this marriage. Thor has only to take him aside and ask him to refuse the betrothal. And because Balder is his best friend and loves him, he knows that Balder will do what he asks.

Balder, sitting beside him at the table, fumbles shyly for words. He tells Odin, blushing furiously, that this is a great honor and that is humbled by Odin's willingness to welcome him into the family.

"I love Thor like a brother," he says. "And I swear that no one will love Loki more than me."

Thor goes to his room that night and lays beside Loki with an easy heart. His father, that old fool, has given Loki to Balder. Balder will refuse. As soon as Thor asks him too, Balder will refuse! And he will refuse because he is a true friend and knows that Thor loves Loki. He falls asleep happy and sleeps the easy sleep of those whose hearts are unfailingly loyal.

The next morning, Thor finds Balder outside, helping to train the new yearling horses on the lunge line.

"Balder," he pulls his friend into the shade of the stable. "I'm sorry, I had no idea he was going to spring a trap like that. Your looked like you were going to faint! I thought I was going to laugh at the old fool. He betrothed Loki to you, my best friend, and one of the few people on Asgard who is in a position to refuse it."

"Refuse it," Balder smiles, falteringly.

"Loki can only marry one of us," Thor laughs, a brash, boasting laugh. "And, no offense Balder, but if it's a choice between you and me, I win." Balder's smile hardens.

"How can I refuse a betrothal?" he asks. "I would if I could, I know how much you care about him—"

"Don't be stupid, of course you can," Thor says. "Your parents were killed by the Frost Giants years ago. You've lived in the palace, but my father isn't your father. He can't compel you to marry! He can compel Loki, but not you. You are your own man, all you have to do is refuse." Thor is grinning with delight. It is such an easy, elegant solution and he knows, he truly believes, he can depend on his best friend to preserve his happiness.

"But Thor, you're asking me to turn against the will of Asgard's king—"

"So have the heart I know you have and do it! All you have to do is say no, its one of the shortest words in the language."

"Refuse the king, to what penalty? Incurring the disfavor of the All-Father is—"

"I am your friend," Thor says. "I consider us very close, and so it is in the spirit of friendship that I am telling you that only timid women and little boys worry this much about what an old man with one eye is going to do if they make a very reasonable, polite refusal, so stop whining already," Thor says. Somewhere under his confidence, he begins to feel the stirrings of unease.

"Thor I don't—"

"Balder," Thor says impatiently. "Stop mumbling and shuffling, man up, and tell my father you don't consent."

Balder's lips tremble. He says softly,

"I won't."

For a second, Thor thinks he has not heard right. Then suddenly a torrent of angry, frustrated words comes spilling out of his friend's mouth.

"You are not good for him, Thor!" Balder whispers with savage, desperate love. "I've seen you together, you're not right for him. You smother him, you demand his attentions from him like a petulant child, you get angry when he so much as looks at anyone else, and yet you refuse to acknowledge him in public. You keep him like some secret concubine! And the worst thing, Thor, the worst thing of all is what you were willing to do just to gratify your lust. How could you?" he cries. "How could you lure your own brother out into the woods in the middle of winter, all the while planning, planning to do what you did—"

Thor cuts Balder off by grabbing the collar of his shirt and slamming him into the wall hard enough to send out a web of little cracks. His anger explodes; it pounds on the inside of his head, sending shockwaves through his veins and bones. He didn't see it before but now it is as clear as morning light and it refines his rage to a gleaming point. An age old tragedy was being played out before his eyes: his best friend fell in love with his lover. Balder is in love with Loki. In anger, Thor presses his fist down onto Balder's neck.

"How noble," he growls (his voice is deep and rumbling, like thunder), "to be so worried for him when you have my father's will behind you. Where were all your noble sentiments about Loki's wellbeing before, when you were slapping me on the back and congratulating me?" Balder shoves Thor back.

"I won't do it!" he shouts. "You do not deserve him. If you loved him, you would never—"

"You know I love him!" Thor roars, and hurls Balder outside the stable, into the sandy ring. The horses whinny in fright. "You've been our friend and our confidant. How can you betray us like this?"

"You're selfish and arrogant—"

"And you're a coward, Balder!" Thor bellows.

In the next instant they fly at one another. Thor throws Balder against the wooden fence. His expression is enraged, tinged with a deeper betrayal.

"If you marry him, you'll never really have him," Thor says. "He'll always love me and we'll never, ever stop. I'll flaunt it, Balder, I'll make the whole Aegir court laugh at you as a cuckold and you'll never have him." He knows it is an awful threat, the threat of never-ending humiliation, but he doesn't care anymore: Balder's betrayal is worse than any other Thor can imagine.

Balder's eyes quiver in rage and panic.

"You're a spoiled braggart."

"And you're a coward and a traitor," Thor says. Blood is pounding in his temples; his body feels like a furnace.

And then, the two of them know they are at an impasse. Balder knows that Thor and Loki will continue their affair and make a fool out of him his entire life; and Thor knows Balder is too desperate to be with Loki to refuse this marriage.

For a minute they stand, staring at one another, shoulders heaving. Then Thor unlatches the hammer from his belt and places it on the sand.

"Fight me for him," Thor says.

"What?"

"We will do this in the old way," he says. "That's the only way." Balder straightens up.

This love of the old ways of honor and combat is something they share, something they both take with utmost seriousness.

"Fight me for him," Thor says again. "We'll fight, and if I win you'll refuse the betrothal, and if you win I swear I will cease my affair with Loki and—and give my blessing to your marriage."

There is a second of tense silence.

"Do you swear?" Balder asks.

"We'll both swear," Thor says.

Both boys lay their hands on the sacred hammer's hilt. In the horse ring they swear the most sacred of the Aegir oaths that the winner of their fight will relinquish their claim to the thing they have both fallen in love with. For a moment they are like they were: two young friends, united by a common love of battle.

Then the moment passes and both of them know that no matter who wins, they will never be friends again.

The next morning dawns bright and clear and warm. By an unspoken concordance of two like minds, they meet in the horse training ring. No one is there but the robins and a stable boy, grumbling as he waters the horses.

Their friendship has always bound them to fight together. As they stare at one another across the ring, neither one is able to see the other as a friend. Thor sees only a betrayal; and Balder sees a bully and the end of all his hope for happiness. The tension between them is palpable. Balder has his lightblade drawn; Thor holds the hammer at his side. They acknowledge one another stiffly; neither one smiles.

When they clash, it is as if the sky has turned against the sunlight. There is a thunderous roar and its shockwave explodes through the ground. They strike and block with their weapons so fast and with such power, the vibrations leave waves of upturned earth and the sound reverberates through the mountains.

It is the sound of the battle that draws Odin, Frigg, and the other nobles outside.

Thor feels only anger and betrayal and, beneath it, the profound love that is driving him to batter his closest friend. He hears old men shouting oaths of praise. He hears others crying out, asking what could have come between them to make them fight?

Thor is the first to draw blood. Balder is not far behind. After that, Thor loses touch with all the voices clamoring outside him. There is only anger and the battle coursing through his veins.

The fight lasts from morning until night. At night, Balder has the advantage. His light blade lets him see his enemy. But Thor is stronger. Bleeding, ribs broken, he is still stronger. He throws his hammer against the lightblade harder than he has before, summoning up every reserve of strength. It cracks the lightblade down the middle. Balder falters and Thor runs at him.

Then they are grappling like two Grizzly boars, their boots plowing up the new spring earth.

And Thor is stronger. Balder is wild and desperate, but Thor is stronger.

They fall into the deep valley, between two great hills. With only the strength of his body, Thor forces Balder to the ground. He feels his friend's body shaking, but he will not let him up. He holds his face on the ground, grunting, teeth grinding in inarticulate anger. Somewhere outside the fight, he can hear his father shouting at him from the hilltop high above them to let Balder go, that he's won, that everyone can see he's won and that the fight is over, but Thor cannot make his anger or his body obey.

Then two cold little hands touch his shoulders and all his strength seems to drain away.

"Stop," Loki is hissing. "Just stop. Stop Thor, why are you fighting? Thor, stop now and tell me why you're fighting?"

He is in pain, bleeding, with broken bones, and he feels like his face might be mangled where Balder smashed it with the lightblade's hilt. He looks up at Loki in the moonlight, vision black and stinging because of the blood in his eyes.

Balder raises his head up. His face is stained with blood and tears. There are broken blades of grass in his blond hair. He spits out dirt and looks at Loki with anguish.

"You're perfect," he whispers to Loki. "And I would love you to my death. You could have a real marriage with me Loki, but I can see that's not what you want. You'd rather by his whore your whole life. Fine. Be that. I don't want you like this, because that's what you are: his whore."

That last word explodes in Thor's brain, mangling it beyond the possibility of thought. He drags himself up; he thinks he is going to beat Balder so badly he will never speak again.

The wood goes quiet. The birds stop singing. The crickets go silent. Even the warm spring wind stops blowing. Thor feels something cool on his burning skin. He looks down at his hands, and finds them dusted with white flakes of snow. His stomach drops out. He turns around to look at Loki.

Loki is white. His whole body is shaking with rage. His green, ancient eyes are seething liquidly with insult and anger. He says nothing, only laughs; a cold, mirthless laugh.

"Loki," Thor says in a husky whisper. "He's just angry. He's in love with you. He doesn't mean that."

Even when he is betrayed, Thor is a loyal friend. He tries to explain Balder's actions to Loki, to calm his anger, because he knows Loki can wreak havoc when he is so openly insulted. Loki looks at Balder with pitiless wrath. The young man is clawing his way up from the grass, beaten and exhausted.

Without a word to either of them Loki turns and walks back to the palace. The snow is falling thickly now, driving away the warmth. By morning, the winter has returned and the earth is blanketed with white.

That morning from his window, Thor watches Loki walking on the snow. He is brushing aside the drifts, searching for something. After a while, he drops to his knees and plucks something up from the earth. He wraps it in his green cloak and returns to the palace.

That evening Thor goes into Loki's room. He wants to see him, to be around him while he recovers. He thinks that just being around such a magical being will knit his bones and darn his flesh. Loki is sitting in the window, looking out at the snow.

Under the bed, Thor catches sight of Loki's green cloak. He leans down and picks it up, and unwraps it.

Inside is a sprig of mistletoe on which some blood has fallen.

"Loki?" Thor asks. "What is this?"

"Nothing, Thor," Loki says softly. He takes his brother's hand and leads him to the bed. Thor lays there and just having Loki sit beside him and read aloud, he feels instantly better. Things will be alright again. He has lost a friend, but he retains what he loves.

There will be no spring that year.