Archive of Our Own

“I could use that drink now.”

Tony makes a sound, a breath that’s almost a laugh, but no one else responds. Loki seems to droop back down again. The Avengers retreat back a bit, save for Thor and Clint, who keeps his bow leveled on Loki. A SHIELD operative brings forth chains.

“Can you stand?” Thor asks. He cannot keep the bitter disappointment from his voice. Loki glares at him for a moment but does not respond. A no, then. At his nod, the shield agent cuffs Loki’s arms behind his back. Then Thor steps forward, and heaves Loki’s body over his shoulder.

Loki lets out a single cry of surprise, or perhaps pain, before his jaw snaps shut. Thor can hear his teeth grinding together.

“Do you require medical assistance?”

“I require nothing from you,” Loki spits.

“Fine, then.”

“We’ll show you to cell we’ve devised.” The SHIELD agent - Thor can’t quite recall her name, something beginning with an M - gestures for him to follow her, and the squadron of black garbed soldiers that surround her.

“I’ll come with you,” Clint growls, keeping the arrow notched in his bow.

“And then, don’t forget, we’ve got a dinner date!” Tony says from behind him. “Shwarma, on 18th! Come find us! Victory feasting, right?”

They are lead down a few floors, to what looks like a storage area. SHIELD is busying themselves with the final fortifications on a temporary cell being constructed in the center.

The cell is white and sterile, like the one on the helicarrier, but far smaller. It is plexiglass all around, staked down with steel cables. Lights are being set up and plugged in, all pointing towards the little cot in the cell. Fury surveys the progress.

“We’ll be watching round the clock, armed guards 24/7 this time.” He turns his single eye to Thor, with Loki draped over his shoulder. “No escape.”

“I doubt I’d get very far.” Loki attempts something scathing, but it comes out wavering and exhausted. Fury lets Thor into the cell, to deposit Loki on the cot. Loki winces as Thor drops him to the mattress and rolls onto his side. Under the harsh lights, Thor can see the wrongness of his shoulder, the layering purple and black bruises rising up over his skin.

“Are you sure you do not need-”

Loki snarls something very rude in a Vanir dialect at his brother and Thor’s expression slams closed. “Fine,” he says in return. “I will be back later.”

The plexiglass door shuts and seals behind him.

“Let’s go,” Clint says. “We don’t want to let Stark down.”

Thor spares one last glance behind him at Loki, limp on his side. Now that he believes he is not being watched, there is agony on his face and a tremor to his limbs. He looks thoroughly miserable but before Thor can feel pity, he remembers the fury on Loki’s face and the feeling of a thin blade in his side.

He turns and follows Clint out.

It’s the middle of the night when Thor returns to the makeshift cell. The guards watch him warily, but do not move towards him.

“Did you enjoy your dinner?” Loki spits at him. “Back to make sure they hadn’t lost me?”

“I came to check on you, yes. We’ll be leaving for Asgard tomorrow.” Loki stills, the expression freezing on his face. “I’ve finally convinced Director Fury to let me bring you back.”

“Convinced them, have you? So I shan’t meet Earthly justice after all?”

“No. You shall meet ours.”

“Oh, so much better. I wish you hadn’t wasted your breath arguing with them, I would rather die on this forsaken realm than face the humiliation of - ah!” The sound of bone crunching, brutally, back into place. Loki’s tirade is cut off by his cry of pain. He can do little more than pant for a moment as his bone stitches back together.

“You’re healing slowly,” Thor remarks.

“You would be too, if you’d been beaten by that great beast your friends keep as a pet!” Loki snarls. He shifts a bit, taking pressure off of his cuffed hands. Thor settles on the other side of the glass, watching him.

“Your magic is depleted.”

“Perhaps it is.”

“That wasn’t a question, brother. I’ve seen the signs in you many times.” Loki looks away. “You keep swallowing, I’m assuming the nausea’s started?”

“Shut up.”

“It’s funny though, I don’t really remember seeing you do much magic. A few cantrips when you emerged from the portal, some illusions. The healing. Nothing more. And yet, never have I seen you so drained.”

“What is your point?”

“My point is, you had to be using it before. Who sent you? Where were you-”    

“So this is an interrogation? I see.” Loki coughs. “I wondered when that would start. I was surprised it hadn’t already. I was expecting some of that…Earthly charm. Surely they’ve evolved from the rack, but I’m sure they’ve come up with some creative means to make me talk.”

Thor doesn’t respond. He doesn’t want to confess that that had, indeed, been on the table. It had taken some firm conversations to make clear to SHIELD that he would not see his brother tortured, no matter what he had done. Loki reads it off his face anyway.

He smiles, a feral grin. “So that’s it then? You’re here to guard me from the Midgardians, for what point, if I’m just going to be dragged back to Odin for execution-” He cuts off, breathing heavily for a moment, before leaning over the side of the cot and retching. He only brings up yellow bile. Thor waits for the heaves to slow before turning to one of the guards.

“If you could fetch water and a cloth, and let me into the cell.”

The guard hesitates, but a voice comes over the loudspeaker. Maria, Thor finally remembers. “Fury says it’s fine.” The guard nods tersely and sends someone for water. A large bottle is brought for him, along with a towel. Then the guard opens the cell door for Thor.

“Don’t-” Loki flinches away from him. “Don’t touch me.” Loki is warm under Thor’s hand, feverish. Thor just wipes the sick from his chin and holds the bottle to his lips to let him drink. Loki lets him for a moment, before jerking away. “Enough.” Thor caps the bottle wordlessly and sets it aside. “Why are you still here, Thor? Why can’t you just leave me be?”

“I’m going to stay.”

“To guard me, how responsible-” Loki has to stop again, gritting his teeth. His shoulder resets with a terrible pop and he cries out.

“You may continue to curse me in the morning, brother.” Loki doesn’t flinch away this time when Thor lays a calming hand on his back.

Neither of them sleep, surrounded by glaring and faceless guards and shining lights. Thor has not felt this small, or this alien to the world, since the brief days he was made mortal by his father’s judgment.

At dawn, or what Thor supposes to be dawn, they bring food, which Loki does not touch, along with fresh chains. And a muzzle.

Thor almost expects Loki to protest but he sets his jaw, stares up at Thor with something like accusation in his eyes, and allows Thor to clasp it over his mouth, tighten it snug against his jaw.

Loki is improved, but not entirely better. He still appears weak, and feels too warm. He does not fight his extradition, just blinks tiredly up at the sun when he is brought to the windowless van that transports them to the park.

“You know the higher ups aren’t going to be happy about this,” Fury says. “They’ve been dying to get their hands on some alien tech, including the Tesseract. And they’ll not be pleased the prisoner’s being yanked out from under them.”

Thor tightens his grip on his brother’s arm. “Fury, I believe we agreed-”

“We did. And I think the Tesseract is going to be safer on Asgard. And him.” Fury glances at Loki, who only glares back. “I don’t want to think what kind of trouble he could get up to if he was left down here. Or,” He drops his voice. “What certain of our people might do.”

Thor nods. The van grinds to a halt and Thor helps Loki out of the back. Fury passes him the host for the Tesseract, the golden cylinder that will allow them to harness the Tesseract’s energy to go home.

“’Til next time, God of Thunder.”

“I will be back as soon as I can be spared,” Thor smiles. “You could use the help, I think.”

Fury laughs. “I think I’ve got more help than I can manage already.”

The Avengers are gathered, around a circle in the pavement. Clint keeps Loki solidly in his sight, Natasha lingering nearby. The other three are talking - well, Tony Stark is talking. He turns as Thor drags Loki forward.

“Alright, Point Break, this is it. Are you sure I can’t just-”

“The Tesseract is the only thing that will bring Loki and I home. And it will be far safer on Asgard than here on Earth. Your people have made great strides recently, but you’ve still got a long way to go.”

“But we could go farther, if I could just-”

“Tony,” Steve warns.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Take the glowy cube, and spikey-angry over there with you.” Tony waves him off. Steve and Bruce shake his hand.

Thor looks across the cylinder to his brother, bound and demurred. “Farewell, friends,” he says. “Hopefully we will meet again soon, when the bifrost is complete. This will help some.”

“I’m counting on it, big guy,” Tony answers. “See you ‘round the galaxy.” Natasha and Clint are still preoccupied staring down Loki.

Thor grasps one handle of the device, Loki the other. It locks into place and in another moment the blue light is sweeping over their forms, dragging them from the plane of Midgard and into the space between worlds.

Thor’s hand is glued to cylinder and it seems the only thing that keeps him from dissolving as they’re ripped through the cosmos.

As quickly as their journey began, it ends and they collapse onto the rainbow bridge in Asgard. Loki is drenched in sweat, laying in a heap on the bridge. He’s shaking.

“Loki?”

With his bound hands, Loki gestures at his face, at the gag that binds his tongue and his magic. Thor sighs, getting to his feet and ignoring his brother. It is likely only a trick to get him to lower his guard. But Loki still does not rise, gesturing more desperately at the gag and making a low, distressed noise in his throat.

Thor huffs. “No. I will not fall for such a trick.” Loki makes a low whine. His chest strains. He looks pale, a sheen of sweat covering his skin. Thor’s resolve falters. “Fine. Just for a moment, Loki,” Thor says. “And you will try nothing. A single word of a spell and I will-” Loki nods frantically. Thor bends and unclasps the metal muzzle, setting it aside.

Loki gasps for air like a man drowned. His chest heaves and his throat strains with the force of drawing in air. It is clearly no trick. Thor sits beside him as his horrible gasping breaths slow and finally he is still.

“Are you alright?” Thor asks quietly.

“I’m fine,” Loki snaps, turning his face away. “Fine.” His voice is ragged.

“Come, brother,” Thor moves to pull him up. “Father will be expecting us.” Thor drags Loki to his feet. As soon as he lets him go, Loki sways and his knees buckle. He seems nearly in a swoon. Thor catches him before he can fall. “Your magic still plagues you?”

“Why should you care?” he snarls. Despite his words, Loki does not protest his support as they slowly make their way towards the palace. Thor watches the way that Loki turns his pale face towards the sun, the way his eyes dart rapidly about, soaking in the sights of Asgard. Something in his chest tightens.

“It has been a long time since you’ve been home.” Loki’s eyes snap to his face. Thor gets a brief glimpse of the open, longing look on his face - the same one he saw twice in the battle - before the mask settles back into place.

“I did not expect I would ever lay eyes on this place again.” He tightens his jaw as they move closer to the palace. Loki’s affect is cold, guarded, but beneath it all, Thor can sense his nerves. They are pressed so close together, Thor holding him up, that he can feel the rapid fluttering of Loki’s heartbeat. He wants to open his mouth to say something reassuring, but he too feels a sort of sick apprehension at the thought of facing their father.

A contingent of Einherjar wait for them at the entrance.

“The throne room is clear,” the captain says. “And the Allfather is expecting you.” One of the soldiers approaches with more chains.

“These are not necessary,” Thor tries to wave them off. “I will take him before the king. I can contain him.”

“The Allfather insists, your highness. He told us you would say something to this effect, and bade us to insist that we bind the prisoner appropriately.”

“But my brother-”

Loki’s elbow strikes him just below the ribs. Thor releases his grip and Loki stumbles forward into the arms of the Einherjar.

“I am not your brother, remember?” The bitterness drips from his voice, silencing Thor’s protest. The guards replace the Midgardian manacles with tighter, stronger Asgardian cuffs, with attachments to bind his wrists to a chain that wraps around his waist. His ankles are bound together so he can only walk in short steps. Further chains tether him to the Einherjar, and they pull him into the hall.

Thor can see him trembling, beads of sweat forming at his temples. He looks faintly green.

“This is hardly necessary,” Thor hisses at the captain, walking beside him. “Can’t you see he’s ill?”

“The Allfather insisted, my prince. He said you might protest, but that we must not fall for any tricks.”

“I do not think it is a trick.”

“The Allfather will be able to tell,” the captain says with calm confidence in his king.

Odin sits on the throne in the hall, positively seething with muted fury. Even Thor feels cowed by the withering look on his father’s face.

“Leave us, Thor," Odin commands.

Thor steps closer to Loki, who gaze doesn’t waver as he looks upon Odin. “Father-”

“Go!”

He cannot help but comply, stepping out of the hall.

“Thor.” His mother rushes down the hall towards him and embraces him. Thor braces her back and buries his face in her long hair.

“Mother.”

She pulls back. “How is he?”

“Injured…angry, bitter. But alive.” For how long? Thor is suddenly afraid of his father’s wrath. “Do you know what he’s going to do? Father, he seemed-”

Frigga looks away. The expression on her face is worried, but calculated. “Locked away. He refuses to let me see him, but I managed to convince him that execution was too extreme a measure.”

Thor's shoulders slump in relief. He has not spared his brother from Earthly justice only to have him meet the axe on Asgard.

“Has he spoken of what happened?”

Thor shakes his head. “No, he is…Mother, he is not the Loki we knew.” His voice very near breaks.

Frigga purses her lips. “Perhaps not. But as long as he is alive, there is a chance.”

Thor waits, hovering outside of the throne room, until the captain of the guard drags Loki back out.

“Eternity in the cells, I wish I had died upon that rock, I wish I had died and I would not have ever had the displeasure to look upon your face, you miserable-” The throne room door slams in Loki’s face. He lets out a rage-filled, mournful cry before going limp in his chains, panting.

“I will take him,” Thor says. “I will-”

“I want nothing from you,” Loki snarls, beginning to fight against the chains. Thor ignores him, wrapping his arms around Loki’s middle and practically dragging him towards the dungeons, following the guard captain. “Let me go, you brute, you oaf, I will destroy you once I am free, I will burn this realm to the ground and slay all you care for before your eyes-”

Loki continues spitting insults and threats, squirming in his arms like a wild, frenzied animal. But there are also unshed tears shining in his eyes and purple bruises still visible on his skin so Thor says nothing as they drag him down to a bright cell deep in the dungeons. By the time they arrive, Loki has stopped struggling. He mutely allows them to undo his chains, face twisted in miserable anger.

His shoulder looks out of joint again, bent from the fury of his struggles.

“Loki, your shoulder-”

“Leave me!” he snarls. “Leave me alone, you’re no brother of mine, just my conqueror, will you not leave me alone!”

Thor takes a steadying breath and grits his teeth against his own frustration. “Let me help you remove your armor.”

Loki’s expression twists and he thinks he’s going to snarl again. But instead, he lets Thor and the guard captain strip off his damaged and filthy armor. They have to reset his shoulder, a pain he takes with barely a grimace.

Loki wavers on his feet. “Go. I wish to sleep.”

“Alright, brother. I will be back to check on you.”

Loki's expression is blank as he lies on his side. “It is not like I can stop you.”    

Once Thor leaves Loki in the dungeons, he goes to clean himself up. He avoids his mother and instead finds his friends, regaling them with tales of the heroism of the Avengers.

“I hope you may meet them one day,” he says. “You will thoroughly enjoy them.”

“They do sound amusing,” Fandral remarks.

“Were you able to see Jane while you were on Midgard?” Sif asks. The smile drops from his face.

“Indeed not. Things were…things were too busy for us to meet. I spoke with her briefly on the phone.”

The Warriors Three do not mention Loki at all. Whenever the subject begins to come up, they gracefully dance away from it, much as they had in the early days after Loki’s fall. Thor believes they simply do not know how to speak of their former friend, who had been dead and was now apparently their enemy. Or perhaps they did not want to hurt Thor with the truth of their feelings. Behind his back, he knows they speak of how grave Thor has become, how reserved. They worry, but he has nothing to say to comfort them.

Days pass before he once again braves the descent into the prisons, to confront the snarling, furious thing that his brother has become.

He finds Loki laying on his back, in a casual repose.

“Loki.”

“What do you want?” His voice is oddly slurred.

“I came to see how you were feeling.”

“Wretched. Are you happy?” Thor steps up to the barrier. Loki finally opens his eyes and turns his head. “Don’t.”

“Why do you still feel ill? Were your wounds truly that bad, brother?” Loki gives a halfhearted shrug and turns away. Thor starts to ask, “Do you need-”

“I need nothing, not from you. Now go away, and do not bother returning.”

But Thor does return. Multiples times. His visits don’t always go well, but each time Loki curses him a little less, and his brother’s pallor and fever grow.

On one such visit, Thor frowns at his brother. “Are you sure I should not call-”

“What? A healer? For a wretched prisoner like me? Ridiculous.” Loki is bundled in his blankets today, shivering uncontrollably. Thor steps through the barrier and he does not even protest. When Thor touches his forehead to feel the heat, he leans towards him minutely.

“It’s a passing illness,” Loki says, looking away.

“It’s been weeks. And you’re worse.”

“I’m the same.”

“Then stop shaking.”

Loki does for a moment, looking up at him with defiance before a violent shudder rips through him and the quivering returns. Thor gathers up the thick bedspread and dumps it on Loki, ignoring the glare he receives in return.

“Why must you continue this torment?”

“Is my presence that bad, brother?”

“I’m positive it is urging my illness on.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do.” Loki gathers the thick bedspread around him. “I do not know what you expect of me. Or do you just want to watch me slowly rot down here?”

“I want to check on you, since you’re so insistent on ignoring-”

“This isn’t going to fix anything,” Loki spits bitterly. “This isn’t going to change the fact that I am a monster, and you the hero, and it would have been better for us both if you had slain me on Midgard.”

Thor sets his mouth into a firm line. This visit was turning out to be the worst since the second, where Loki only spit curses and insults, heaped threats upon Thor’s friends, both mortal and Asgardian alike. Things had gotten quite…graphic and Thor had had to remove himself.

Loki starts shivering again, looking away. It dawns on Thor - he becomes particularly obstinate and snarling only after receiving some sort of care. That second time, Thor had helped him eat a little soup and bread and smoothed a salve over the ugly scrapes and bruises on his back before his tirade had began. Now, the acceptance of the blanket seemed to require equal verbal rejection.

It makes him unbearably sad.

“I’m going to go, Loki.”

“Good.”

Thor sighs. “Get some rest, brother. We’ll talk later.”

He leaves Loki and when he returns the next time, he does not cross the shimmering barrier. Instead, he sits on the step and speaks to Loki through the divide. He carefully maintains a distance, giving his brother his space.

Loki looks better today, not as pale, but he still moves slowly, gingerly, as though his joints pain him.

“Your magic still plagues you?”

“Of course it does. This cell feels wretched, my magic positively aches.”

“You have still not explained why it was so drained when you appeared on Earth.”

“Is this a visit or an interrogation?” Loki snaps. He wets his lips, eyes darting around. “Have you considered the fact that is difficult to travel by Tesseract?”

The question is phrased perfectly - noncommittal, placing the onus on Thor to assume the Tesseract is what drained Loki’s power. But he hesitated a hair too long answering. This sickness has him off his game.

“I understand it takes a great deal of power to work the Tesseract. I have considered it. But that still does not explain where you were for a year,” Thor presses.

Loki freezes. “Perhaps I wasn’t anywhere.”

“You’re trying to annoy me into ceasing my questions with riddles.”

Loki’s face breaks into a mischievous smile, breathtakingly familiar. “Maybe I am.” Thor lets it drop.

The next time Loki’s fever is obviously higher. There are high spots of color in his cheeks and sweat beading at his temples. He sits, listless, in the chair, watching Thor with glassy eyes.

Thor risks entering the cell. “You’re too warm. Have you had anything to eat?”

“Nngg, no food.” Loki wraps an arm around his stomach. “I’m rather tired of vomiting, I’ll admit.”

“I was reading a book in the library about mage-sickness-”

“You were in the library? Did the staff faint from shock?”

“Very amusing.” They had, actually, looked quite surprised, and a little faint at his appearance in the library. And exchanged glances when he’d asked about magical illnesses. “I found in one book a description of the spells on these prisons. I didn’t understand most of it, of course.”

“Of course.”

Thor ignores him. “But they did suggest that they should not cause illness. Merely suppress power. Your seidr should have returned to you. They’re supposed to just prevent you from doing magic, not from replenishing your stores-”

“Precisely,” Loki says, with a condescending air like a teacher with a particularly dull pupil.

“Then why-”

“Are you taking advantage of the muddled state of my mind due from the fever to continue questioning me?”

“I’m just trying to help, brother.”

“Well, stop,” Loki snaps, before he evidently thinks better of it and sighs. “Fine. You are right. That was also my understanding of the way these cells worked. I have several theories. I realized we didn’t do much catching up with mages we locked down here - perhaps they did all suffer like this, and our understanding of the cells was just a pretty lie to disguise an ugly truth. Or perhaps I was particularly badly-” He swallows. “Perhaps Odin changed the spells as a additional measure against me. For fear I’d attempt to escape.”

“Brother, you don’t really believe-”

“I don’t believe in anything anymore, Thor.” He looks at him and his eyes are shining. Thor can’t tell if it’s the fever or unshed tears. “And I’m not your brother.”

The following day, Thor is summoned before his father.

“There is a rebellion, in a small cluster of villages on Vanaheim,” Odin says. “I’m sending you and Lady Sif to dispatch it.”

“Of course, Father.”

“I’m sure you will be happy to get out of Asgard for a few days.”

Thor smiles. “As always. I do enjoy visiting Vanaheim, and the promise of battle is an additional intrigue.”

“You’ve been spending far too much time in the dark and dusty and forgotten places of this palace as it is. You should get some sun, fresh air.”

Thor’s smile falters. “Of course, though I would not insult the library so.” There is a pause; both of them know the library was not what Odin was referring to. Then Odin shakes his head with a small smile.

“Have a good voyage, my son.”

The rebellion ends up taking a week to put down, and nearly an additional week restoring order. Then several days of feasting with his cousins in Vanaheim’s capital, the invitation impossible to refuse.

When Thor finally returns to Asgard, his first stop is the armory, to return his weapons and his armor to be cleaned and repaired. Sif begs him to come to the tavern with her, but he just smiles and says, “Later.” Then he descends to the dungeons.

The prisoners call and jeer from the common cells at him, and, as usual, he ignores them entirely, proceeding to the lowest level, to Loki’s bright and lonely cell.

“Loki, I’ve returned. I apologize for leaving you for so long, I hope the guards passed along my message. Loki?” There is no answer from the cell, not even a snarky remark. He’s not lounging in the chaise either, but still curled up in bed, under the covers. “Loki?” No response. Thor’s heartbeat quickens. He enters the code to allow him into the cell. “Brother?” Thor rushes through the barrier to Loki’s side.

Loki doesn’t yet wake at his touch as Thor rolls him to his back. He is ghost white, with dark bruises under his eyes. His lips are tinged blue and he shakes, eyes twitching beneath the lids. Thor lays a hand on his cheek and is shocked by the heat he feels.

“Loki!” Loki moans at his touch. “Wake up, come on, brother.”

Slowly, Loki blinks his eyes open. “Thor?”

“It’s me, I’m back.” He rubs his thumb over Loki’s cheekbone where it juts out from his face. He’s lost weight, in the scant few weeks Thor had been gone. He deeply regrets going at all. “Loki, what happened?”

“Happened?” Loki croaks. His breath rattles in his chest.

“You’re…you’re…”

“That bad, huh?” Loki coughs and doesn’t stop for a long minute. Thor has to help him sit up, supporting him with an arm around his shoulders. “It’s getting worse.”

“What? Is this your magic? The mage-sickness, it’s this bad? How?”

Loki coughs again. “Lay me back, I’m dizzy.” Thor settles him back against the cushions. He draws the blankets up around his shivering form. “It must be. My magic, it’s…it’s…agony. I can find no relief.”

“You’re dying.”

“Of course I’m dying,” Loki says, tears brimming in his eyes. “You thought differently?”

“You’ve known? You said - this whole time, you’ve known that this sickness was progressing.” Loki doesn’t respond. “Why didn’t you call for help?”

“Didn’t want to seem weak. Of course I’ve known. It was funny, watching you run around, looking in books to reassure yourself, while I knew there would be no recovery from this. The library,” he chuckles grimly and it turns into another weak cough.

“You fool.” Thor suddenly has a flash of memory, of that blank look, fingers loosening on the staff. Loki’s been on the edge of the abyss, chasing suicide, since that horrible moment. “Guards!” The Einherjar guarding Loki’s cell enters quickly.

“My prince?”

“You said nothing about this? My brother is gravely ill, fetch the healers, and send word to the king.”

“I did inform the king, my prince. Several days ago.”

Thor goes still. “What?”

“He stopped eating. He was nearly too weak to get out of bed. When we came to check in on him, his skin burned with fever and it took several tries to wake him.” The guard swallows and glances down at Loki. “I reported my findings to the Allfather and he said that it was a ploy to get us to lower our guard. That we should be extra vigilant, and harden ourselves.”

Thor grits his teeth, breathing hard. He turns back to Loki, who’s blinking up at him with glassy eyes.

“Don’t you see?” Loki whispers. “This is what Odin wanted all along. An execution. Just a slower one than most.”

“No,” Thor roars. “No!”

“Thor, don’t. Don’t make this more dramatic that it has to be.”

“You’re wrong. I’ll see to it myself.”

“Just stay with me,” Loki says. “Just stay. See? You’ve got what you wanted too.” Loki’s bony hand closes around Thor’s forearm. “It’s what you wanted, all those visits, all those desperate pleas to me. I’ve given up. Here at the edge of death, I cannot bear for you to leave me.”

“No, I will not just sit here and watch you die, you will not force me to bear witness to this again!” he shouts.

“Thor.”

“I will save you.” This time, Thor thinks. He tears his arm from Loki’s grip. “Stay with him. If he gets worse ignore my father’s orders and send for the healers. And the queen. No,” Thor turns. “On second thought, send for the queen now.”

“My prince, the king was quite clear-”

“I care not. Fetch my mother at once.”

“Thor, don’t, just stay-”

Thor sweeps out of the cell, the fury lighting a fire under his feet. He storms his way through the palace, to his father’s study where he is meeting with several of his council.

“Leave us!” Thor roars. Lightning flashes outside the window, thunder following a second later.

“I did not realize you had returned, my son,” Odin says calmly. “Did the journey go ill?”

“You know exactly what has gone ill,” Thor growls.

Odin gives him a stern, level look. “Leave us,” he says to his advisors. The council members gather their things and leave, giving Thor a wary look as they file out. When they are alone and the door has clicked shut, Thor’s anger explodes once again.

“How could you do this to your own son?”

“So this is indeed about Loki. You have been to see him?”

“He is dying, why do you not care? You said you loved him, why are you just letting him die?”

“He is not dying,” Odin scoffs. “It is impossible. You should know as well as I, the blocks on sorcerer’s power in the cells do not harm them. Loki is an exceptionally strong and well-trained mage - have you considered that this is just another one of his lies? His manipulations? To trick you into pitying him, have you lower your guard?”

“Father, I do not believe this is a lie. Ask his guards, he doesn’t eat, can’t be easily woken, even before I returned. And now he burns with fever, he’s in pain, he’s dying. See him yourself, I’m begging you.”

“Thor-”

“If you ever cared for him, you will go see him. You will see how he is fading and you will do what you can to heal him. If this is not some cruel punishment, to let the one you called your son suffer a slow and painful death, you will go to see him.” Thor can hear the blood pumping in his ears. “And if it was all lies, then I must question who is the monster here.”

He storms away from his father in the throne room. His feet take him to the highest balcony in the tower before he even really decides where he’s going. He stands, looking out over the city and willing himself to calm, for a long time.

When they were growing up, he and Loki were barred from this balcony. It was too high, they were told, they could get themselves in trouble. When they were finally old enough to wander the palace on their own, they came here often, to be by themselves. It was peaceful, high above the teeming masses of the city. The wind was the only sound, the only thing between the balcony and the stars. Thor feels the breeze on his face, turns his face to the wind, and offers a prayer to the Norns.

Odin finds him there, perhaps half an hour after their fight. He draws even with Thor, looking out on the landscape. For a tense minute, he says nothing.

“You were right, my son,” Odin says finally. “You were right to come to me. I was wrong to doubt you. I did not believe…” He sighs. “I have never seen a sorcerer of Loki’s age and caliber so taken by illness, simply from the spell-bonds on the cells. He is already mending, I swear to you, under your mother’s eye in the infirmary. We will see the cause of this illness before returning him to the cells, to make sure he will not be further sickened.”

“Good.”

Odin scrutinizes him for a moment, his single eye sharp.

“You were wrong though, to imply that I lied about loving him. About him being my son.” Thor looks away, cowed. “I have never lied about caring for that child. I have never wished to see him suffer. I am just as hurt by his actions as you and your mother, for all that you believe otherwise. But you will learn someday, what it means to be king. It means that I cannot appear to be weak. I must met out justice in equal measure, for people within this family as without it, as you have experienced yourself. No matter what came before, Loki still attempted to invade a realm under our protection. He attempted to kill you, if you recall. You cannot blame me for holding him at arm’s length, for holding back pity or sentiment-”

“I understand, Father, I do,” Thor says. “But I only question if a lack of sentiment lies at the heart of this whole matter.”

“I was only trying to protect you and the realm, my son.”

“And who was there to protect him?” There’s a tense moment of silence.

“I expect you, now,” Odin finally says. “He was raving when I arrived, but he was asking for you. Your mother is with him now, and has barred me from the room, but I think she will be glad of your help.” Thor leaves his father on the balcony. The king does not move, and when Thor looks back, he sees his father leaning on the rail, his head in his hands.

Loki is in a deep sleep when Thor arrives in the healing halls. His arm is still chained to the frame of the bed, a visual reminder of his status as a prisoner, but his head is resting in their mother’s lap, and Frigga gently strokes his hair back from his forehead. Healing magic glows around them.

“He is sedated,” Frigga says. “He will not wake anytime soon.”

“But he’ll recover?”

Frigga nods. “It will take some time, for the frayed threads of his seidr to weave themselves back together.” Her lips press together in clear displeasure. “If your father had allowed me to see him before locking him away and withholding my presence as a punishment, I might have prevented things from worsening like this.” They sit in quiet, in the soft orange glow of the healing rooms.

“Mother…he said that it wasn’t possible for the normal bonds in the prisons to cause this, he implied there was some underlying sickness, some wound. But there is no way that this could have happened on Midgard. The people of Earth…they are more technologically advanced that we were aware, but they have no true knowledge of magic that I could see. Loki was felled in the end by brute force. I do not understand what could have caused this.”

“Nor do I, not yet. But yes, these wounds on his seidr were not done on Midgard. They are not recent. They are deep, and worn in over time.”

“Perhaps the fall?”

Frigga holds her expression very still. “Perhaps. He was gone from us a long time, my dear. I think there are things he has yet to tell us.” Loki stirs a little, turning his face into Frigga’s skirts before he settles.

Thor sits on the edge of the bed. Loki’s hand is a mere six inches from his. Thor cannot take his eyes off his wrist, how pale and thin it looks, wrapped in the metal manacle. Thor takes his brother’s hand and it is cold.

Loki wakes, briefly, some hours later. Thor is alone. He and Frigga had been changing shifts sitting with him throughout the day, it is pure coincidence that Loki wakes during his watch.

“How are you feeling?” Thor asks when he blinks his eyes open.

“I asked you to stay.”

Thor rests his head on his hand, on the edge of the bed. “I was not going to watch you kill yourself again.” Loki’s face starts to crumple. He looks away. Thor rests his other hand on Loki’s chest. “I’m here now. I’m not going to let you go again.”

Loki inches closer to him, bringing him well within range for Thor to wrap his arm around his brother’s torso and rest his chin on Loki’s shoulder.

Several days later, Loki is steadily improving. There are Einherjar outside the door around the clock now, since they cannot fully bind his magic without impeding his progress. Thor had fetched the magical tomes he’d borrowed from the library from his quarters. He’s reading a particularly gruesome tale of a sorcerer who had bound his life force to a spell, feeling vaguely nauseated, when Loki stirs.

“Thor?” Loki says, startling Thor out of his reading.

“Yes?” Loki blinks slowly at him for a moment, mouth quivering like he’s on the edge of saying something. “Loki, what is it? Do you need-“

“No, no,” Loki takes a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.”

“…alright. Go on.” Loki still does not elaborate. “Brother, what is it?”

Loki takes another, deeper breath, looking at the ceiling. His eyes are glassy. “I have to tell you where I went when I fell.”