Thinking about Thor helping Loki put the whole dress together:

Brain, finally sorting out subconscious: “Ah, yes, it’s a metaphor for his willingness to be sexually vulnerable.”

At the exact same moment: “The first time he wears the dress out, it is violently torn off him.” https://twitter.com/fivestillalive1/status/1260848975969746944

Why, brain?

We had perfectly good fluff going here.

But probably it was one of Odin’s powerful older generals, powerful enough to have no hesitation over showing his outrage at the behavior of a prince, even in the middle of the grand hall, with half the court watching...

Odin, watching from his throne, says nothing, and perhaps can’t hide his smile of satisfaction as his troublemaking offspring runs from the hall in humiliation.

Thor has never felt so helpless. For all his strength, even he can’t stand against the general, one of his father’s favorites, and he knows it.

Loki goes back to wearing armor and layers, all the time. The backs of his hands are covered, as is the back of his neck. He won’t talk about it, and gets vicious if Thor tries to push the issue. Thor pushes anyway, and things come to blows, but Loki still won’t talk.

In Asgard’s court, any warrior must answer the challenge of any other, or risk loss of status. Thor begins studying the general’s fighting style.

He doesn’t come to sparring matches very often - a warrior of his status doesn’t have to. But Thor makes no secret of his attention, and soon the general is coming often, in open mockery of Thor’s unspoken challenge. And it isn’t long before Thor makes his challenge a spoken one.

He doesn’t say why. He doesn’t have to. The gossip of what he did to Loki spread quickly, and was still fresh in everyone’s minds. The general even leers at Loki, in all his layered armor, when he accepts Thor’s challenge.

On the day of the challenge, Thor gets a surprise. Word of the fight spread, and a crowd has gathered to watch Thor fight for his strange, controversial brother. Thor, warming up in the arena, hears the excited murmurs, and looks up to see.

Loki has come in a dress.

It’s not the light, comfortable thing he wore before. No. This dress is a threat. A challenge. Tight lacing shows his pretty but unfeminine waist, and a low neckline shows the cleavage he doesn’t have.

He strides, purposeful and direct, skirts lifted, to the general.

The general laughs. “Well well. Aren’t you bold, when your big brother is going to do your fighting for you!”

Loki looks unimpressed. “You’re going to die.”

The general gufaws again, and in a moment his hand shoots out to Loki’s neckline, as if to tear it off him again.

“Do not touch me!” Loki doesn’t shout, but his words snap out so absolute, so imperious, that the general’s hand freezes.

They glare at each other a moment, the general’s eyes furious that he obeyed such a command. Then his hand shot out again.

Loki didn’t flinch, as the general’s hand tugged but couldn’t rip, apparently finding fabric tougher than he’d expected.

The general snarled. “I’ll tear it off you if I have to-“ Then, suddenly, he seemed to lose his breath.

He seemed to try to cough, soundless. The crowd started to back away, volume of confusion and fear rising. Thor watched as the general spasmed, trying to cough again and again, and slowly went to his knees. His hands clawed at Loki, dragged against his undamaged dress.

Until they didn’t.

Until his body was still and unmistakably dead on the ground.

A quiet fell, everyone shocked. Thor stood in the arena, useless and stunned.

Loki looked down at the body.

“As I said.” he said, calmly. He turned, and strode away.

Right at the entrance, right before leaving, he paused, and turned his head. Thor couldn’t tell if he looked at Father. But he certainly turned his head in the direction of him, in his royal box.

“I’ll wear what I want.”

END

Okay, I wrote this, but really I’m still marinating in the zen of Thor delicately shifting the position of fabric against Loki’s spine. Unf.