Work Text:
Hurricane
The brush faltered, and Sleipnir wondered what he had said wrong.
He fidgeted nervously, glancing over his shoulder at his mother/father. Loki sat on a stool beside him, grooming brush mid-stroke. His face was frozen in a look Sleipnir couldn't begin to decipher.
Sleipnir felt panic blooming in his chest, and his legs began to tremble. He had done something wrong, and he was scared it would make his mother/father go away again. It was so new, his mother/father being with him so often. For so long, Mother/Father had been an absent and then distant presence, who came to him sometimes, but mostly stayed on the edge of Sleipnir's world. It was his grandfather who was the main presence in his life, though recently his mother/father had been coming to see him more. Sleipnir was still a foal in body and child in mind, and was too young to understand why, but also too young to be too hurt by the absence. It had taken decades to even see him, so any bit was welcome. Now he was scared that he wouldn't come back again, and that was horrible.
"I'm sorry!" the words rushed out, and it seemed to shake Loki out of it, "Don't leave!"
Loki looked back at him, his face going through a mix of emotions -surprise, anger, happiness, despair- before it settled on guilt, "What? I...no," Loki couldn't look at Sleipnir anymore, which only made Sleipnir feel worse, "You merely surprised me. I'm not angry and...and I won't leave you. I promise you this," it calmed Sleipnir, and when Loki saw it, he continued, "tell me more."
Forgetting all the anxiety from a moment before, Sleipnir excitedly launched back into his declaration, "They are amazing Mother/Father," another thing Sleipnir didn't understand was what the call his parent....he was never corrected either way, so he used both to be sure, "they are...they are wonderful!"
When his grandfather or mother/father weren't with him, Sleipnir didn't have much to do. So he explored what he could, and had discovered them one day. They had been training, in full armour and with riders, and Sleipnir had never seen anything so magnificent. The war horses of Asgard were spectacular, and from that moment, Sleipnir knew what he wanted to do when he was grown. He spent much of his day just following them around, staring at them with wide, awe-filled eyes. They were so strong, so graceful...everything that Sleipnir, small and with too many legs, wasn't.
"I suppose they are," Loki finally replied, taking up his brush again, "though, it is not easy, the training war horses have to go through, and it is very dangerous."
Sleipnir snorted, and tossed his mane, "I am special," it was one of the first things Sleipnir had become consciously aware of, that he could talk (even if it was mentally, not verbally), and the other horses couldn't, "I can do it. I will be the best war horse in the nine realms. The All-Father himself will be proud to call me his mount. I will be brave, and I will make you and Grandfather proud."
Loki's breath caught in his throat, and it took a moment for him to answer, "You do not need to be a great war horse for that," his mother/father's voice was soft, and Sleipnir felt loved, even if he couldn't name the emotion, "you'll always have my pride, but if it is still your wish when you're a little older, we'll speak to your grandfather about it. He'll be happy to help."
Sleipnir neighed in contentment.
l.l.l.l.
Sleipnir's first true battle was nothing more than a skirmish. A group of Dark Elves, led by one of the princes out to make a name for himself, had been making war on Asgard, attacking villages and farms on the far outskirts. It could have been settled without the involvement of the king, but Odin deemed it a necessary show of force, a warning to anyone else who wanted to use Asgard to further their own succession plans.
It was, Sleipnir thought, a way for him to test his mantle without having to be involved in a full scale war. Not only was there a lack of wars for Odin to be involved in, but the chance of injury was lessened here. Sleipnir was grateful for the opportunity to prove himself, but he was terrified. He hid it well, walked proudly with the All-Father on his back, but the King of Horses was scared. He had no other place he'd rather be than here, fighting beside his family for the honour of Asgard...but he still felt fear. It was natural, or so he thought, but Sleipnir would die of shame if anyone were to find out. He had worked, he had trained, for years to become this, to be the All-Father's war horse, and he'd have no one claim that he didn't deserve his place.
Odin's presence on his back was comforting as they rode the battle line. Odin was inspecting the troops and giving a speech to rouse them to battle. Sleipnir caught his father's eyes, and Loki nodded at him.
When Sleipnir had first come to him before they left Asgard, in his gleaming battle armour, Loki hadn't tried to persuade him not to go, to stay at home, safe with Jorgamund. Loki's face was the same as it had been the day Sleipnir first announced he wished to be a war horse. Grim and worried, Loki had only rested his forehead against his son’s and told him not to do anything stupid.
He took his eyes away from his father as Odin guided them to the front of the column. In front of them, the Dark Elf camp was just waking up. The sentries, who should have seen them preparing for war, had been blinded by spells, and did not know that the armies of Asgard would attack them at dawn.
A hand ran down his neck, soothing and comforting, "Are you ready?" His grandfather's voice was low, only for his ears.
"Yes," and he was, despite his fear. Since he was a child, Sleipnir had lived for this moment.
Odin straightened, and Sleipnir felt the shift from Grandfather to King, "For Asgard!"
Sleipnir took off them, moving faster than any other being. He was the first to reach the camp, the first sign to the Dark Elves that there was an attack. He carried the King of the Gods on his back, who used both spear and sword to cut down his enemies. Lightning sparked through the air, telling him that his uncle had unleashed Mjolnir, and he tasted his father's magic on the wind. Around him, battle cries from Asgardians and Dark Elves alike, broke the morning air. Sleipnir ripped through the camp, using his many legs to destroy and kill. It was chaos, and darkness, and a terrible, retched beauty, and Sleipnir lost himself in the fury of it all.
Much later, when the battle was over and the remaining Dark Elves suing for peace, Sleipnir was still shaking with adrenaline and battle lust. His grandfather stood beside him now, having dismounted in case Sleipnir grew weary. As he treated with the Dark Elves, he kept Sleipnir by his side, continuing to teach him even now that Sleipnir had proven himself. Terms were made and hostages taken to be ransomed back to the crown, and only then did Odin turn to Sleipnir.
"You did well," Odin told him, and Sleipnir glowed from the praise, "I am proud to have you as my steed."
They were words Sleipnir had longed to hear since he was a child, and the pride he felt because of them nearly made his heart burst. He stood up straighter, felt any exhaustion fade away, "Thank you Grandfather," he tried to sound humble, but didn't quite master it.
Odin noticed, and just chuckled silently, "Now go, find your father and show him you're well. It's not an easy thing, when your child goes into battle for the first time. Go reassure him and have him send a message back to your grandmother and brother that we are all well."
"Yes Grandfather," with that, Sleipnir went off to find his father and uncle.
He walked proudly, and if it had been possible, would have smirked at the words that followed him. More praise and admiration, and acknowledgement that the title given to him not long after his birth, King of Horses, was true this day. He was a fine war horse, the best even....and Sleipnir knew that this was where he was meant to be.