While the celebration for their families got louder and more raucous, the two newly promised princes met each other for the first time in a quiet, snowy courtyard as their fathers looked on.
"This is Prince Thor of Asgard, Loki," Laufey told his son. "Your betrothed." Loki toddled closer to the fur-swaddled Aesir, his cheeks reddened and his little nose running in the cold.
"Mine," the Jotun prince declared. His hands, deceptively strong and quick for his size, lunged for Thor and clamped into determined little fists in his lush furs.
"He will indeed be yours, my treasure," Laufey told him fondly. "If he ever proves worthy." The Jotun king did not sound like he thought that likely.
"Mine." Loki agreed, tugging on Thor’s cloak so hard he nearly toppled them both.
"No!" Thor pulled back.
"No!" Loki squared his jaw, reared back, and butted Thor with the blunt buds of his unsprouted horns. Thor fell over with a surprised yell.
“Mine.” Loki told him. He crawled into the bundle of furs with his fiancee and pinned him to the ground, heedless of Thor’s squalling protest. ”Mine now," he murmured as he settled in.
An hour later, Frigga and Laufey disentangled the pile of sleeping infant princes so they could be put to bed.