This story consists of three chapters, possibly plus an epilogue. For how it came to be, please see the Moving to Alfheim section of my profile. It's the same conception of the characters as in Beneath and Magic & Mead and I consider it back story for those two, but it can be read 100% independent of them.

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Moving to Alfheim

Chapter 1: It All Started with a Whistle (Not Really)

Thor woke to a terrible whistling noise. Well, that wasn't exactly true. That's what he would tell Loki, but really he woke to a full bladder, and after he went back to bed, then came the terrible whistling noise. It wouldn't let him go back to sleep, which was close enough to waking him up. He got out of bed again and crossed to the other side of the room where Loki slept in the bed they used to share, and still sometimes did, because, well, why not? They were used to it. They'd slept at each other's side since Loki was born, some nine and a half years ago.

Thor had his own room now, a suite of rooms, his own entire chambers on the floor below. He'd been incredibly excited about it, as he had about everything connected to his Announcing ceremony, when he'd turned ten and been officially given the title of "Prince of Asgard" amidst an all-day celebration attended by everyone who was anyone across the Nine Realms. (Six of them, anyway. No one invited anyone from Helheim, Jotunheim, or Midgard. But it was still customary to refer to them as nine.) Thor had helped choose the furniture design and selected his own sheets and blankets and furs. Loki had been with him and their mother on all of their outings, and while Mother had tried to involve Loki, asking him to keep an eye out for things he liked because his tenth birthday was only ten months away, Loki had clung to Thor's hand and remained almost completely silent, as he had when he was very young.

Thor had slept in his new bed with its new sheets and blankets and furs for precisely four nights before waking up in the morning to find Loki asleep in the bed beside him. He'd laid there waiting for Loki to wake up – and the fact that he had to do this told him that Loki hadn't been sleeping well – and once he did, he'd taken him by the hand, gone upstairs, and announced he liked his old room better. His toys and books and games and puzzles – and his old bed – were back in place by nightfall. Thor didn't mind. If Loki wanted him to stay, he'd stay. He knew he was ten, a youth and not a child. All the Nine Realms knew it. (Six of them, anyway. Maybe eight of them in this case; Helheim and Jotunheim might have heard about it.)

And though he would never admit it – except to Loki, because his little brother was embarrassed that he couldn't sleep by himself, and they told each other everything – he'd had a hard time falling asleep in those chambers by himself, too, all alone on the entire floor except for an Einherjar skulking in the shadows in the corridor. More than once an unidentifiable noise had caused him to bolt straight up, clutching a pillow to his chest. (He left out the part about the pillow when he told Loki about that.)

Loki was happy, Thor was happy, and Thor was a Prince of Asgard, so everyone else was happy. No one complained, anyway, and that was good enough for Thor.

Thor wasn't happy right now. Loki was making that whistling noise again. He still wasn't sure exactly how he did it. He'd tried to figure it out while he was trying to sleep in his now-abandoned bedchamber, maybe twice. Maybe three times. Or four.

He got onto the bed and bent over Loki, who was on his side facing the wall. Sure enough, Loki's right thumbnail was inside his mouth, between his teeth, where he was alternately biting it and sucking on it, and somehow, something in the position of the rest of his fingers produced a whistling sound as he breathed. Loki didn't always chew on his thumbnails in his sleep, and he didn't always make a whistle when he did. Thor thought he didn't do it much at all anymore, actually, but he wasn't sure, because, well, if it happened, it happened at night, when Thor was asleep. Loki's whistle wasn't loud enough to wake Thor up – little was – but it was annoying enough to keep him awake once woken.

It was the one thing he hadn't missed when he'd moved to his own private chambers. His attempts to produce the whistle there, maybe five times, maybe six, were driven solely by boredom and curiosity. (That was what he'd tell anyone who asked, anyway. Maybe even Loki.)

"Loki," Thor whispered. Loki was a much lighter sleeper than him. But Loki didn't stir, although his breathing became uneven. The whistle disappeared, then returned. "Loki, wake up. Stop whistling," he said a little louder. Loki still showed no signs of waking, but he started muttering in his sleep. Thor caught a couple of sounds that might have been a muffled "no" and a "don't." Thor sat down beside Loki and gave his shoulder a good push – if he was deep in some bad dream, that usually did the trick. And it did. Thor had known it would, because Loki often kicked when he had bad dreams, and that did wake Thor up.

Loki jerked as he woke, his hand falling from his mouth. He twisted around at the waist and neck. "What?" he asked, his voice scratchy with sleep.

"You were chewing on your thumbnail and making that whistling noise. You woke me up all the way over there," Thor said, angling a thumb over to the right, toward his bed.

"Oh," Loki said, still waking up. He'd never heard himself whistle, and sometimes thought Thor was imagining it. Thor tended to get mad when he said so, though. "I'm sorry," he said, contrite even if he hadn't been whistling, because he hadn't meant to wake Thor up, however he'd done it. He twisted back around toward the wall then, and pulled the covers up more tightly around his chin, but now that he was awake and bits of his dream were coming back to him he was worried, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to fall asleep.

Thor watched his brother dig his fists into the covers, listened to his deep sigh. He felt bad for sounding so mean. It wasn't like Loki was doing it on purpose. "Loki…I'm sorry. I know you can't help it."

Loki didn't say anything. He just stared at the wall and tried to stay still, hoping Thor would fall asleep, maybe even right there beside him like he always used to.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

Loki bit his bottom lip, hesitating. "Yes," he finally admitted.

"What was it about?" Loki didn't answer, so Thor lifted the covers and slid down underneath them, then rolled over onto his side and came to rest on his left elbow, facing Loki's back. He gave Loki's shoulder a gentler push. "Hey, you got me out of bed with your thumbnail-sucking. You might as well make it up to me by turning over here and telling me about your dream." No answer. "It won't seem as bad if you tell me about it."

Loki hesitated a moment longer, then rolled over onto his opposite side to face his brother. He pulled the covers tightly to his chin again, and tucked in his knees and arms close to his body. He stared down at the narrow empty space between him and Thor. "Do you remember Muli?"

"Sure." They used to play with him and a few other boys and girls after their lessons sometimes, before Thor – and Loki with him even though he wasn't technically old enough – had started their training as future warriors when Thor turned ten. Thor hadn't seen the boy since.

Loki's eyes flickered up to Thor's a few times before finally settling there. "Today after Mother took me to see Eir we went to the park, and Muli was there. He told me he has an older brother, and he moved to Alfheim."

Thor started to say something, but now that Loki had worked up the courage to tell the story, it started tumbling out in a rush and he cut Thor off. "His brother moved to Alfheim to be some kind of a spice trader, and then he fell in love with some girl there and now he's going to marry her. Muli's never even met her. They're going to go to Alfheim for the wedding, and then they're going to come back to Asgard and his brother's going to stay on Alfheim."

"Is Muli excited?"

Loki scrunched up his face in confusion. "Why would he be excited?"

"He gets to go on a trip to Alfheim. I would be excited."

Loki sighed. He didn't know if Muli was excited. He didn't seem excited. Well, maybe a little. Loki hadn't been paying much attention to what Muli thought about it. Loki thought it was awful. And it had settled in the back of his mind and bothered him all day, enough so that Mother had asked him twice what was wrong, but Loki wasn't sure what was wrong. He just hadn't liked that story.

And then he'd dreamed about it. But not about Muli and whatever his brother's name was – Loki couldn't remember. "In my dream, you moved to Alfheim."

"Me? I'm pretty sure I'll never move away to Alfheim. It's nice there, but it's not Asgard. And besides, I'm going to be king of Asgard." Thor did like it there; it was perhaps even his second favorite realm. But it was a far distant second to Asgard. (No one called Alfheim "the Realm Eternal" or "the jewel of Yggdrasil's crown." They just called it Alfheim. Except on Svartalfheim, where they called it Ljosalfheim. And that was no big improvement.)

"But what if you go and move away somewhere else, even somewhere else on Asgard?"

Thor let his gaze drift away, mulling that one over. "I guess I never really thought about it. But I suppose I'll keep living in the palace, since that's where the king lives."

"But what if you fall in love with some girl, and you want to marry her, and I don't even know her?"

"Loki…what's this all about? This is getting weird. I don't want to think about all that stuff. Are you…is there some girl you like?"

Loki barely heard the question, and didn't process the words at all. The weight on his chest became unbearable and the question he'd been trying to ask the whole time burst forth. "What if you go away and leave me alone?" His chest felt a little better but now he was close to tears.

Thor got it then. Neither brother liked being alone, but it was different for Loki. Thor would get grumpy and bored and go find someone to talk to, but Loki would get worried and scared and withdrawn if left on his own for too long. Loki worried about a lot of things he really didn't need to. Like this. "I won't ever leave you alone, Loki. We're brothers."

Loki shook his head and only worried more. "But so are Muli and…and his brother."

"I didn't even know Muli had a brother. He must be a lot older."

"He's eighty-seven." Loki didn't know why he remembered that and not the brother's name. Something also with "M"…

"Eighty-seven! Loki, he probably moved to Alfheim before Muli was even born. You and I, we're real brothers. We're almost the same age! Attached by invisible strings. If I ever move away to Alfheim, I'll take you with me," Thor said almost defiantly, as though he might make such a move tomorrow, and woe to anyone who tried to stop him from bringing his brother with him. (Ten-year-old princes didn't actually have that much freedom, though, despite what Thor often thought.)

"You promise?" Loki asked, half-afraid Thor might be only teasing. He'd done more of that lately. But Loki could also imagine Thor taking the lead, grabbing his hand, marching straight to the bifrost and ordering Heimdall to send the two of them to Alfheim, and now that Thor was officially a Prince of Asgard, Heimdall would probably have to do what Thor told him. (Heimdall would have a different opinion on that, though.)

Thor smiled at his brother. "I promise." Of course he promised. If Thor did it, Loki wanted to do it with him, and Thor liked that. He wanted Loki there, too. Loki looked up to Thor for guidance, protection, and advice, and it made Thor feel proud to be those things for Loki, even though the ten months Thor had on him didn't exactly qualify him for such a role. It didn't matter. When asked his advice, Thor would imitate his father's I'm thinking deep and serious and kingly thoughts look and provide it. When asked for a promise, he'd provide that, too.

Loki sighed and relaxed a little. If Thor moved to Alfheim and took him with him, that wouldn't be so bad, although Alfheim wouldn't be Loki's favorite place to go. And Mother wouldn't be there, or Father, either. Loki decided that if Thor wanted to move to Alfheim, he would try very hard to convince him to stay on Asgard instead. "Thor?"

"What?"

"Will you stay here tonight?"

Thor smiled again and reached out to tousle Loki's dark hair. He hated it when people did it to him, but he liked doing it to Loki. "You just try to make me leave. The floor's cold, and my bed's gone cold, and my old spot is already warmed up here. I'm not going anywhere."

Loki smiled and snuggled further into his pillow, settling in for sleep again, facing Thor instead of the wall this time.

"But no more thumbnail chewing. You'll wake up with mittens on your hands," Thor warned.

"Don't!" Loki said with a giggle, crossing his arms over his chest and shoving his hands under his armpits.

Thor laughed and reached out to give his brother a hug, and Loki unwrapped his arms to return it.

"Put your hands back," Thor ordered with mock authority.

Loki rushed to mock compliance, his face comical with seriousness and fright before he dissolved into laughter again.

Thor kept one arm slung over his brother, and they fell asleep like that not long after.

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Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing. Your questions and comments are most welcome!

This story is quite short and completely written in "short-hand" already. I'll have the other chapters up...perhaps within a week? Hard to say for sure but it won't be terribly long in any event.