Regularly you were made to train with Loki, Thor, Sif, Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun. Your father had been one of the best warriors that Asgard had ever seen, and it was assumed you'd be equally as talented. You weren't. In fact you could barely even raised the sword from the ground, let alone cause any damage to anyone else. If anything you were more of a danger to yourself than the person you were against.

The only manageable part of the whole ordeal, was that Loki was there. However today he had escaped early. You weren't sure where he went, but after participating for a short while in the hellish training session, you decided to find him.

It took a while but you realised looking in the library last was probably not very smart. You had to search deep into the library and found him in one of the small back rooms.

He stood in front of a lavish easel, blocking off whatever was on it. Around him art was hung up and on the floor, canvases were piled up, all with detailed and beautiful art covering them.

"Did you paint all of these?" You asked breaking the silence.

The dark haired man jumped slightly at your voice, not hearing you enter the room. Loki turned around, seeming rather taken back by you being there, but slowly came at ease with the fact as he went to speak.

"Yes."

"You're quite an artist," you smiled moving a couple of canvases to look at ones piled behind them.

"I guess so," he responded, not allowing emotion to come through in his voice.

You smiled at him, not particularly wanting to pry, but you thought that you were friends, so you wanted to know why he hadn't told you about being so talented at art.

"Why didn't you tell me? This is all so beautiful," you stated continuing to admire what surrounded you.

"I didn't think you'd appreciate it. Father and Thor believe that art is feminine and not a necessity for a male to partake in. I much rather expressing myself on a canvas than through beheading my enemies," he explained.

You took a step away from the art, not being able to help the pitiful look that appeared on your face.

"I'm sorry about them," you said softly. "But art is neither masculine nor feminine. It is simply art. It is a way to express your emotions and experiences in a visual manner."

He looked confused by your words, not understanding why you were being so nice to him.

"To be completely honest I don't enjoy training with your brother either. Barbaric really. I understand why though, we need warriors, but I'm not one. I definitely value brains over brawn."

For the first time that day he smiled.

"Would you like to see what I am working on?" He asked hesitantly.

You nodded, to allow him to show you the painting that was being worked on, on the easel.

~*~

Written by Charlotte.