I’m here

-

“When do I put the salmon in?” Thor asked, glancing up from the pan he was stirring.

“After the eggs are finished but before you take them out of the pan,” Loki read the instructions from Thor’s phone, “Apparently, you need to stir it in and let it warm through.”

They were trying to cook for the first time, using a recipe Brunnhilde had sent them. She’d taught herself to cook after arriving on Earth, and at Thor’s request had sent them some of the easier recipes she began with.

Their first attempt was scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. They only had to cook the eggs and chop up some already prepared salmon to mix in, so it seemed straightforward, and it had plenty of protein, which Loki needed to help his wasted muscles start to build back up.

It was going well so far, Thor thought, but he wasn’t entirely certain. A bit might have burnt, but nothing too bad. Nothing was on fire and the eggs weren’t going to be undercooked.

Loki was sitting on the kitchen counter beside the stove, knees to his chest and tucked into the too-big hoodie he was wearing. He’d been reading the instructions from Thor’s phone, and occasionally stealing a piece of the chopped smoked salmon for himself or to feed to Thor.

It was a lot earlier than they usually got out of bed, barely dawn. But a nightmare had torn Loki from his rest a few hours before, and he’d been unable to go back to sleep. Afraid to go back to sleep.

Nightmares were frequent, but this seemed to have been particularly bad. Loki didn’t tell Thor what happened in it, and Thor didn’t press. He just turned on the main light in both their bedroom and the adjoining room to make things brighter, grabbed a soft blanket, and held Loki close until his tormented mind was able to find some peace.

What peace it did find wasn’t sufficient to gift him any more sleep, however.

Thor didn’t mind. He’d not have slept again anyway. He never did when Loki had a nightmare, too afraid the next might not wake him and Loki would have to suffer the aftermath alone.

So they got up, Loki bundled himself in a hoodie and sweatpants that belonged to Thor rather than any of his own new clothes, and then they left the bedroom to distract themselves from the haunting past.

They drank coffee, decided to make breakfast, and afterwards, Thor would find something engaging but lighthearted for them to put on the television, while he held Loki close and hoped for the lingering terror of the nightmare to finally fade.

It would, in time.

Daylight usually helped. Or sunlight, specifically.

Loki had told him there’d been no sun in either place Thanos had held him.

Both locations had been filled with darkness. Either vast and empty or confined and deeply shadowed. Sometimes stars or lights or the illumination of burning heat. But no sun to chase away the stifling darkness.

Thor had manipulated the weather each day it dared to cloud over since Loki arrived, always gifting him the brilliance of the sun once it had risen over the horizon.

“Do they look cooked to you?” Thor asked, tilting the pan for Loki to see. 

“I think so?” Loki frowned, “They look similar to Brunnhilde’s photo.”

“Let us hope!” Thor declared and turned the stove off, reaching across Loki to get the chopping board of salmon pieces, taking that opportunity to lightly squeeze his arm in reassurance that everything was fine and this, not his nightmare, was reality.

He mixed the salmon in and poured everything into a large bowl, slipped a couple of spoons into his pocket, and, with the bowl in one hand, helped Loki off the counter with the other, keeping an arm securely around his waist as they walked to the couch.

Loki was getting stronger, but slowly, and the distance from the kitchen to the couch was still too much for him to manage alone.

It didn’t help that sometimes he suffered sudden, sharp pains when he moved too much or in a certain way.

Bruce suspected nerve damage from the puncture wounds or prolonged nutritional deficiencies. He’d advised Thor to keep a close eye on it, and contact him immediately if it seemed to be getting worse.

So far it wasn’t, but it also wasn’t getting better.

Loki’s body, like Thor’s, naturally had a great capacity for healing itself without requiring extensive intervention. So he should be able to heal from these injuries too.

But he’d never had wounds like this before, nor suffered them being inflicted for so long a period.

Except he perhaps had, the first time Thanos took him.

How healed had he been when he arrived on Earth? How many injuries were hidden beneath his clothes and magic when he fought the Avengers and when Odin had him abandoned in the dungeons?

Thor had to force those dark thoughts from his mind as he settled them both on the couch.

That was the past.

Loki was here with Thor now. He would heal, and never suffer such pain again. Thor wouldn’t allow it.

Thor propped the bowl on his lap so they’d both be able to reach it easily, and offered Loki a spoon so he could take the first taste of their culinary endeavours.

“How are they?” he asked, watching as Loki ate half a spoonful.

“Good,” Loki smiled proudly, “I think we did well.”

Thor beamed and ate some himself, “We did! A successful first effort.”

He did think they needed more flavour. Perhaps extra seasoning or some spice. But he said nothing.

After no food for so long, anything had more flavour than Loki was used to, and too much might be overwhelming.

“Where did the eggs come from?” Loki asked after they’d been eating in silence for a while, “I didn’t see you pack any away with the grocery delivery.”

“Hm?” Thor finished his mouthful and smiled, “Heimdall’s chickens. He brought some eggs over yesterday while you were resting.”

Loki broke into an amused smile, “Heimdall has chickens?”

It had been strange to Thor too at first.

Heimdall had always been the watcher, standing aloof in his golden armour, observing everything, detached and removed from the rest of Asgard. As children, he had seemed unapproachable to them. The unwaveringly stern and diligent servant of their father.

He’d become more of a friend to Thor as they grew up, and even more so after Ragnarok, but he had never really been close with Loki. No one other than Thor and Frigga ever had.

“As there’s no bifrost here, at least not yet, he has more free time than he did before,” Thor explained, eating another spoonful of eggs before continuing, “He still watches all as always, and he would know were any intruders to approach New Asgard,” Thor clarified just to strengthen Loki’s belief that he was safe here, “But Heimdall is also a permanent member of the council, and he farms. He has chickens, and grows some vegetables.”

The smile lingered on Loki’s lips, “I can’t imagine him farming.”

“He’s taken well to it. Many people have livestock or small areas where they grow crops now.”

There had been very little to do at first as they set up New Asgard, and Thor had remembered the stories they were told as children of how Asgard began. A mead hall, wooden huts, and small areas or livestock farmed by individual families.

New Asgard would never be as small or simple as that. It wasn’t necessary, but Thor had felt it may offer people something to occupy their grieving and traumatised minds.

“It isn’t much, but I think people enjoy being able to have a bit more of our food obtained locally than if we only had our proper farms and fishing to rely on,” Thor observed as he ate, “And I think the eggs taste really good. The salmon is bought from somewhere in Norway, however.”

Thor had seen the good it did for their people, the farming and the rearing of animals, how giving them things to create helped their grief. He wondered if it might help his too, if he were to attempt to care for something like a garden or an animal.

But he couldn’t.

He could barely look after himself, let alone anything else.

He could be a soldier and a king, but nothing more. When he came home and no longer had to fulfil those roles, he could do nothing but grieve.

The resurfacing of his despair must have shown. It was always too close for him to keep at bay, and he knew Loki saw it, knew he understood what pain Thor felt, as he rested one hand over the tattoo of his name on Thor’s arm.

Thor raised his hand to lightly press over his.

Loki’s fingers were cold and thin. Thor’s were no longer as calloused as once they were. Both changed so much in the few years apart.

Thor squeezed his hand lightly, shutting his eyes and chasing away the memories of his grief. The emptiness he felt with Loki gone, which only grew more and more painful with each time he believed him dead.

“Losing you broke me,” he smiled sadly, “I couldn’t bear to do anything more than what was absolutely necessary. Sometimes not even that.”

He leaned over and kissed Loki lightly, pulling him into a gentle hug and speaking close beside his ear, drinking in the familiar sensation of Loki’s body against his.

“But you’re here now. I don’t have to grieve you anymore. Everything seems brighter and more possible, and I feel not only able to do things, but the desire to do so also.”

He grinned, a genuine smile as he pulled back and looked at Loki, those green eyes watching him with a combination of deep affection and concern.

Thor lightly touched a hand to his cheek, and nodded to the bowl before retrieving it and eating another spoonful, the eggs now almost finished, “Cook, for example. That stove had not once been used before today.”

He offered the last few bites of their breakfast to Loki, but he just stole a single piece of smoked salmon from the bowl and nodded for Thor to finish the rest.

“I wonder if we ought to attempt something different next or perfect this dish first,” Thor mused, “It came out well, but I’m certain we can make it better.”

He grinned as he set the bowl and spoons aside, “I didn’t expect to find the notion of experimenting with cooking so amusing.”

“It’s a new challenge. You’ve never disliked a genuine challenge. And I’d wager this is a challenge that feels just a touch tantalisingly clandestine?” Loki proposed with a playful smirk, “After all, cooking was something that would have been deemed more than slightly inappropriate for us.”

“I recall you and I doing no shortage of things deemed inappropriate for us,” Thor smiled fondly, “Would you like a coffee?”

“Always, brother.”

“I knew you would love it as much as I do.”

“I’m not sure I love it as much as you,” Loki remarked as Thor went to start making another pot, “You make some truly salacious sounds with your first cup in the morning.”

Thor laughed, “Is that so?”

“It’s quite frankly indecent,” Loki continued with a smirk as Thor set the coffee going through the filter and walked back over to him, “I hope you don’t do the same around the council. Or worse yet, those Avengers.”

“I reserve the indecency for you,” Thor grinned and leaned down to kiss him indulgently, kneeling and letting his hands linger against Loki’s jaw as he heard the coffee slowly drip through the filter behind him, “Honestly, I don’t feel I can express myself openly with anyone else. Even those I consider friends. I must wear a mask for them that I can remove for you, and you alone.”

“It’s how we were taught,” Loki leaned into his touch, “Always wear a mask. Always appear unaffected by any emotion. It’s the proper way for a king or a prince or a soldier to behave.”

“I’m not a king or a prince or a soldier with you.”

“What are you then?”

“Nothing other than myself.”

Loki smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, “Good. I happen to rather like your true self.”

“And my other selves?”

“Amusing facades.”

Thor smirked and stood to go pour the coffee, “I was never as good at maintaining them as you.”

In those formal situations on Asgard that a loss of proper demeanour wouldn’t matter so much, Loki and Thor had often amused themselves by attempting to make the other drop their ‘princely’ mask of detachment.

Odin had been furious when he caught them, but Frigga seemed to have found it as entertaining as they had.

“I was thinking about purchasing some new mugs,” Thor said as he returned to the couch with the coffee and one of Bruce’s rehydration drinks, setting the latter down beside Loki and handing him one mug of the former, “These are boring. Functional, but…”

“Lacking in anything resembling character?”

“Exactly. There’s no design, no carving. Just generic pastel coloured ceramic.”

He and Loki had owned beautifully carved cups and mugs on Asgard, usually carved from horn or carefully crafted from some fine metal. They wouldn’t likely be able to obtain the same again, but something more interesting than this should be possible.

Something more interesting for most items in his house.

Thor wanted to make this place more of a home. He hadn’t cared about any of it before, but he did now. Now it was more than just somewhere to hide and experience his grief away from any who might see him.

Now it was a home for him and Loki. A place where Loki could feel safe and comfortable after all that he’d suffered, and a haven for them and them alone. It should feel like it really was theirs.

“Perhaps after I next receive my Avengers salary, we ought to shop for some things with more character,” Thor remarked, sipping his coffee, “Mugs, chairs, more cushions and blankets…”

His mind had wandered from ‘making it a home’ to ‘making it more comfortable for Loki’, but those things were really not separate in Thor’s mind at all.

“When I’ve recovered my power, I can help. Assuming gold is still valuable in this realm,” Loki mused, “I have a few gold and other valuable items hidden away.”

“I see no need for you to sell any of your treasures, brother,” Thor smiled fondly at him, “I know how precious they are to you.”

Loki had always had a habit of collecting pretty things in pocket dimensions like the one he must have used to hide the tesseract from Thanos. Some were weapons or items of armour, but most were simply beautiful objects. Jewels and gold and fine fabrics that he’d occasionally bring out to show off.

“Some of the items themselves could be used to adorn our home.”

“If you’d like them to. I’d be very happy with that, especially if they’re from Asgard,” Thor replied with a broad smile as he hugged him closer, “But there will never be any need for you to sell anything you hold dear. New Asgard may not be as prosperous as Asgard was. Not yet, at least, but we are not lacking in wealth.”

“Just as well,” Loki murmured, “I’d only go and steal whatever it is I sold back at a later date, and I’m told theft is sometimes frowned upon.”

Thor laughed, “Sometimes.”

They fell into a gentle, easy conversation about laws of this realm and this country and those of Asgard, both old and new. The sort of natural, relaxed conversation Thor could have with no one else.

It seemed there was no need to seek distraction from Loki’s nightmare with the television. Conversation alone sufficed to brighten his features and his voice, as the sun illuminated the room around them.

Midday came and went without them realising, and it was only Thor suddenly finding himself incredibly hungry that forced him to take note of the time.

“Would you like yoghurt and fruit?” Thor asked as their conversation reached a natural pause, “We have some blueberries and strawberries left still. And perhaps some grapes? Although I forget whether or not we finished those.”

Loki nodded, keeping a light hold of Thor’s hand as he stood, “Let me join you. My legs need the work.”

“Your legs need rest as well,” Thor replied softly, but helped him to his feet regardless, holding him steady and waiting for the inevitable wave of dizziness and flaring pain to pass, “Bruce cautioned against pushing yourself too hard.”

“Too hard is a very subjective expression,” Loki rejoined in a strained voice that betrayed how difficult this was for him.

He took a few steps with both his hands in Thor’s, as Thor walked slowly backwards.

His breaths became more erratic with the effort of walking with minimal support, and as they reached the kitchen area, Thor saw the sign of it being too much, immediately pressing closer to catch Loki about his waist.

He easily lifted Loki into his arms to set him on the counter - preferable to a kitchen chair because he could have his back to a wall. Within days of his arrival, and without a word from Loki, it had become obvious that having his back exposed made him uneasy.

Thor gently cupped his jaw, watching as he slowly recovered from the exertion,.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly as finally Loki opened his eyes again.

“I’m not about to pass out,” Loki replied with a small, tired smile.

Thor smirked, “Well that addresses a small fraction of what the word ‘alright’ encompasses.”

Loki laughed slightly, “And thus is a valid response to the question.”

Thor grinned, reassured by the banter, and leaned up to kiss Loki, just because he could, before setting about preparing their meal.

A single bowl to share, as with the eggs, because that made it easier for Loki to only eat as much as he felt able to without feeling ashamed.

While he was spooning the thick yoghurt into the bowl, Thor heard his phone buzz as it vibrated on the counter where Loki had left it earlier.

He didn’t fail to see Loki’s flinch at the sudden sound, and immediately abandoned his task to gently take one of his hands, offering a tangible reminder of where they were. That it was safe here.

A single, terrified look from Loki that told Thor he was struggling to drag his mind back from the torture that sudden noise had forced to resurface. So Thor calmly stepped closer to the counter and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Loki immediately returned the embrace, hugging his arms tightly around Thor’s shoulders and hiding his face against his neck, seeking comfort and safety until his tortured mind could be brought gently back from past trauma to the present reality.

Thor had learned to recognise when Loki needed words to soothe his mind, and when he simply needed Thor’s touch. The safety it promised and the close, comforting physical contact.

Now, it was the latter that would help him the most. These moments of sudden descent back into his traumatised mind usually didn’t last too long, and Thor just needed to wait for Loki to feel safe again.

So he held him close and felt his body gradually relax and his shaky breaths start to even out.

“Why did your phone go off?” Loki asked at last, allowing them to just bypass this moment of panic without speaking of it. Save himself a shame he had no reason to feel.

Thor kept one arm wrapped around Loki’s body as he reached for his phone, taking a quick look at the screen.

“Brunnhilde sent a message.”

“What does it say?” Loki asked, not moving, not releasing his hold on Thor nor raising his head.

Thor briefly placed a kiss against Loki’s neck before opening the message and reading it in full.

“She wishes to bring over some documents for me to read and sign later today or early tomorrow,” Thor paraphrased, “The new fishing and railroad agreements. And she has apparently sent me an email detailing a dispute between two families that requires resolution.”

He put the phone down to reply later, once Loki was feeling less uneasy, and fully embraced him once more.

“I regret not having given her formal permission to do such acts on my behalf,” Thor leaned his head against Loki’s, “I felt I could not, as she already had great responsibility early on in training new soldiers and guards. But I did consider it.”

He laughed bitterly and hugged Loki tighter, “I considered handing the throne itself to her. Stepping away from ruling entirely. Hiding away from everything and allowing my mind to succumb to madness.”

Loki pulled back slightly, frowning as he looked at Thor, “Why? Madness has very little to recommend it, brother. I can assure you.”

“My madness had you to recommend it,” Thor smiled sadly and reached up to rake a hand through Loki’s hair, “At times my mind could trick me and make me believe you were still with me. I thought that perhaps if I let my mind fall apart entirely and removed myself from reality, I’d come to truly believe you lived.”

He swallowed back the tears that welled both at the memory and the lingering fear that madness may be true, his breath trembling as he touched his head to Loki’s.

“Surround yourself in enough illusions and you risk forgetting what is real,” Loki said softly, his fingers curling lightly in Thor’s hair, “Lies have their appeal.”

Thor took a slow breath, shutting his eye and focusing his mind on the sensation of Loki’s skin beneath his hands.

“I want the real you, Loki,” he breathed, “Not a lie. Not an illusion or a figment of my desperate imagination.”

“I’m no illusion, Thor,” Loki whispered, touching his fingertips just beneath Thor’s eyepatch, “I’m not in your imagination.”

A soft laugh fell from Thor’s lips, “I’m the one who’s supposed to be caring for you.”

“You are,” Loki nudged Thor’s forehead lightly with his own, prompting him to open his eye, “That doesn’t preclude me caring for you too.”

Thor smiled fondly at him, lightly tracing his fingers over Loki’s temple and down the sharp contours of his face, to brush along his neck, slipping down to the hollow between his collarbones then back up to clasp the side of his neck with the slightest, most gentle, pressure. 

Loki’s breath shuddered at Thor’s touch, his eyes falling shut and lips parting.

Thor leaned in, softly pressed his lips to Loki’s.

Then again, Loki tugging him closer, seeking more, urging something deeper and more passionate that Thor couldn’t deny either of them.

Thor pressed forward, both hands clasping Loki’s face as he desperately chased ever more indulgent kisses, longing to dispel all memories of his sorrow and grief with the real presence of Loki here, with him.

Loki’s thin fingers brushed over his cheek, wiping away tears Thor didn’t know had slipped from his eye. He hooked one leg around Thor’s back as if he could pull him closer although Thor was already pressed against the counter, unable to be closer against Loki than he already was.

His hands slipped from his face to his shoulders, gripping as tightly as Loki’s strength would allow as he deepened the kiss with a need Thor understood.

The same need he felt all the time. He had to feel Loki as much as possible. He had to feel his presence. Every part of his being. Thor needed to know he was here and never going away.

He was here, but he was also badly injured and broken, and Thor couldn’t forget that. He pulled back as he felt Loki’s grip on his shoulders weaken. It was only slight, but enough that Thor felt the change, and knew if they continued it might push his body too far.

“I ought to finish preparing our food,” Thor whispered, tenderly brushing back a lock of Loki’s long hair and seeking another, brief and gentle, kiss before he spoke again, “The yoghurt will get warm.”

“Put it in the refrigerator,” Loki murmured, wrapping his arms back around Thor’s shoulders and pressing his face against the side of his neck, his shallow, rapid breaths cool against Thor’s flushed skin.

“I’ll only have to take it back out again.”

“Such hardship,” Loki smirked against him, his voice tired and slightly breathless as he spoke, “How would you cope?”

Thor laughed softly, “What did I ever do without your wit, brother?”

“Get intolerably bored?” Loki murmured sleepily, even though they both knew what Thor did.

He grieved and attempted, with an ever weakening resolve, to cling to enough of his sanity to rule New Asgard.

He hadn’t just considered handing over rule to Brunnhilde, he’d planned out how he would do it. How to transition the power, how to announce it to the Asgardian people. And where he would go to hide from reality as soon as he was no longer forced to endure it.

It was only the Loki in his imagination who stopped him, reminding him of who he was, that he was the son of Odin and Frigga and the rightful king of Asgard. His duty was a privilege and he must not refuse it.

Thor pulled back and smoothed a hand over Loki’s jaw, kissed him softly once more, before returning to preparing their food.

Loki needed to eat. A little bit regularly as he tried to recover his strength.

Getting their food ready didn’t take long, requiring nothing more than mixing fruit and yoghurt together, and as soon as he was finished, Thor hopped up into the counter beside Loki, handing him a spoon and resting the bowl on his lap so they could both reach it easily.

As they ate, Thor replied to Brunnhilde, making sure Loki could see what he typed.

T: Please bring the documents over whenever you are able but I ask that you do not knock on the door

T: Have you and Heimdall both read the documents and agree with their contents

“You don’t intend to read the documents yourself before you sign them?” Loki asked as he stole a blueberry from Thor’s spoon.

Thor smirked as he watched Loki eat the fruit, licking yoghurt from his fingers. Of course he had understood the reason for Thor asking Brunnhilde that.

“I trust Heimdall and Brunnhilde’s judgement. If they believe the contracts are for the benefit of New Asgard, and are as we have already discussed in previous meetings, then I am willing to sign, confident in their judgement,” Thor replied.

He ate a spoonful of yoghurt before continuing.

“I know father would not approve, but I do not believe it necessary, nor wise, to rule alone.”

Loki’s smile became fond, “You’re a very different king to Odin.”

“I rule a very different Asgard,” Thor idly untucked one of Loki’s braids from the hood of his sweater, his gaze lingering on the gold bead adorning it and his mind wandering to the idea of having some beads crafted just for Loki, “I have tried to follow the wisdom of you and mother as much as I have that of father.”

“I’ve never been wise, Thor,” Loki smirked, “Intelligent, but never wise. You’d be a fool to follow any supposed wisdom garnered from my lips.”

“You think too little of yourself. You always have.”

“There are few who’d agree with that assessment, brother.”

“There are few who know you as I do,” Thor countered easily, drawing the smile back over Loki’s lips.

“None,” he replied as he stole the last grape from the nearly empty bowl, “Not few.”

Thor smirked, watching him fondly for a moment before holding up the bowl, “Would you like the last few spoonfuls?”

“You should finish it,” Loki tilted his head, “I don’t think you’re eating enough by only having what I am.”

“But I am eating better than I have for the past three years without you,” Thor replied between mouthfuls as he finished their meal, “I forgot how pleasing fruit is.”

He shrugged and set the bowl aside, “In any case, I am not training as often as I once did.”

“Do you usually still train daily?”

“Not daily. Usually once a week with Brunnhilde, and every few days on my own, when I could muster the willingness for it.”

“Could you muster the willingness again?” Loki tugged his arm lightly, “I don’t mind sitting idly by and watching you strip down to exercise.”

Thor laughed, jumping off the counter and turning to lean up and kiss him, “Is that so?”

Loki hummed against his lips.

“And if I chose to train in sweatpants and a hoodie?”

“I’d exhaust my meagre strength conjuring them off you.”

Thor chuckled and pulled Loki into his arms, lifting him from the counter, “I recall you doing something very similar during more than one feast.”

“That was the alcohol, Thor.”

“Hm, no,” Thor smirked, setting Loki down on the couch and leaning his arms on the cushioned back either side of Loki’s head, “I don’t think the alcohol strategically removed my clothing over the course of the night.”

“You have no proof it was me,” Loki grinned, “I was preoccupied creating mischief elsewhere.”

“I know you’re perfectly adept at multitasking,” Thor kissed him once then sat down on the couch in his usual spot beside Loki, opening his arm out for him to curl against his side.

“We have far fewer such feasts in New Asgard,” he said more seriously, thinking back to the realm Loki had known, “Three a year, held outdoors as we haven’t a hall large enough to accommodate everyone, to commemorate the midwinter and midsummer, and the date of our safe arrival on Earth.”

“How long did it take to come here after Ragnarok?”

“Many months,” Thor’s hand softly brushed up and down over Loki’s arm, “It felt far longer.”

But no doubt every passing month where Loki was had been even more drawn out. Pain and fear turned minutes into hours, and Loki had been there for almost four years.

The phone he’d slipped into his pocket vibrated with a message, but Thor ignored it.

“I think we ought to have more public celebrations, now people have settled into their lives here,” Thor mused, “I sometimes fear our people are not as unified as they once were.”

“I’d expect the opposite. After enduring Hela’s attack together,” Loki replied, “Travelling to a new realm. Is that not the sort of thing that unites people?”

“But grief and trauma can also drive them apart,” Thor tilted his head to rest on Loki’s, “They may have been united at first, but the time on The Statesman in such close proximity with limited supplies led to some rifts between the more outspoken of people, and those fractures are yet to heal.”

“They will, in time,” Loki reassured, “It’s only been a few years. Even the humans can hold grudges for longer than that.”

“They certainly can,” Thor rolled his eyes as he thought of Tony and Steve’s dispute, “And over the most petty of matters.”

Admittedly their argument didn’t sound like it had been about an entirely petty matter. It was only the ongoing squabbling that was, and that truly irritated Thor.

Although perhaps it would irritate him less without the burden of grief shadowing his every thought and emotion.

They talked for some time about the more petty arguments they’d known.

The decade and a half long grudge Sif and Fandral held against each other over a single foolish word spoken over a mug of ale. The wars started by humans because of trifling differences of opinion. Their own foolish arguments, which had rarely lasted more than a few heated hours.

The nightmare of the past few years didn’t count, as far as Thor was concerned - Thanos and Odin’s lies had been to blame for that.

And their own inability to communicate openly, Thor had to admit to himself, although suffering unbearable grief and unimaginable torture seemed to have knocked them to their senses in that respect.

Thor had no desire to leave any truth unsaid for the sake of some foolish pride or spite.

As he talked, he became aware of Loki slowly starting to doze, succumbing to his exhaustion at last, now the sun had long since risen to bathe the room in warm light, and he felt safe from his nightmare again.

“Loki?” Thor nudged him gently, breaking off part way through a sentence, “Should we go back to bed?”

“No,” Loki shifted, with a slight lingering stiffness to his movements, to lie down with his head on Thor’s lap, tucking his knees to his chest, “There’s more sun in this room.”

“There is indeed,” Thor smiled warmly and began brushing his fingers through Loki’s hair, his fingertips lightly raking over his scalp, drawing a soft and contented sound from his lips.

Thor watched as Loki drifted off to sleep, noticing the slight change in his breathing pattern and the way the hand on Thor’s thigh relaxed.

He hoped Loki might be spared a nightmare this time. Might wake easily and calmly after at least a few hours of rest, rather than being torn brutally from it by horrific memories of torture.

After several minutes had passed with no sign of Loki being in any sort of discomfort or fear, Thor continued to brush Loki’s hair softly as he reached for his phone.

Brunnhilde’s reply to his question was as he expected.

V: Heimdall and I’ve looked through them and agree with the contents. Same as we discussed a few weeks ago

She summarised the contracts, which were as Thor vaguely remembered, although the details were so faded with all that had happened recently. That meeting had been mere days before Loki returned, and the past now felt like a strangely foggy dream, from which Thor finally woke the moment his skin met Loki’s once more.

Thor typed his reply with one hand, which was slow, but he was unwilling to lose even one additional point of contact with Loki if he didn’t have to.

T: I will gladly sign the documents today so they may be returned promptly if you and Heimdall agree on the contents

Brunnhilde replied immediately.

V: Cool. I’ll be over in a few minutes, Your Majesty, if that’s alright. Drop you a message when I arrive.

T: Thank you

Thor set the phone down and absently began to weave a lock of Loki’s long hair into a braid, unable to keep himself from smiling as he watched him sleep. Barely over a week before a moment such as this would have been a dream that left Thor in tears as it ended.

Now it was reality.

Brunnhilde messaged after several minutes, but Thor let his hand just linger against Loki’s head for a moment longer, the braid unfinished, before looking at his phone to see her message that she had arrived.

Thor carefully shifted from under Loki, grabbing a cushion to support his head, and kneeling to kiss him lightly on the temple before going to the door.

He opened it quietly, pulling the door to but not fully shutting it as he stepped outside to join Brunnhilde.

She had clearly been training her soldiers today, dressed in her lightweight armour with her braided hair tied up fully out of her face.

At her feet was a small wooden box, with a couple of leather-covered folders resting on top of it.

“Your Majesty,” she smiled up at him, “How are things going?”

“Infinitely better than a mere two weeks ago,” Thor beamed back at her, “Loki will take time to heal, but he is alive and safe.”

A small, knowing smirk crossed her lips, “I’ll not keep you from him long.”

She nudged the box with her foot, “This is a gift from Tony Stark. Pretty sure it’s alcohol, which Bruce isn’t thrilled about by the way, and said not to have more than one small glass a day while Loki’s still recovering. But if it’s human alcohol...”

She shrugged. The alcohol on Earth was much weaker than on Sakaar or Asgard, and their own distillery hadn’t managed to figure out how to match the sort of strengths they were used to from their lost realm.

“These are the documents,” she continued, crouching to pick the leather folders up and taking a pen from her hair, holding both out to him, “Thanks for trusting us with this.”

Thor smiled and shook his head, “Thank you for all your hard work, and for taking on greater responsibility so that I may spend more time with Loki.”

He knelt and opened both documents, looking for the place for him to sign and writing his name then touching a finger to the parchment, sending a burst of electricity to mark each document with a blackened burn from his power.

Keeping them open to allow the burn to cool, he stood back up, returning the pen and open folders to Brunnhilde.

“Your Majesty, you worked tirelessly to create New Asgard and make sure everyone had a home and a future, even though you were grieving too. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve earned a break,” she replied with an arched eyebrow, and then smiled more solemnly, speaking quietly, “I may not know Loki well, but I do know you, and I know how much you love him. Take as long as you both need to just be with him. And I seriously mean that, Your Majesty. New Asgard’s not going anywhere, nor are we.”

Thor smiled warmly, “Thank you.”

She bowed her head with a slight smirk and tucked the folders under one arm, before lifting the box up and handing it to him, “No problem. Now, with all due respect, Your Majesty, go back inside and be with Loki.”

Thor beamed and nodded, needing no encouragement to do just that.

He nudged the door back open and slipped inside, setting the box down in the entrance so he could shut the door as quietly as possible.

The box was made of a light wood with a hinged lid, and two ribbons around it - one green and one red. There was a small card looped around one of them, but Thor took the box to the coffee, returning to Loki and sitting on the floor against the couch before reading it.

One side of the card described the contents of the box. Six different, single cask whiskeys from Scotland.

The other side had a message, typed out although the name was signed apparently by hand, but Thor knew Tony and presumed it was also printed.

‘I still owe you that drink, Loki. Sorry for the other day.

Tony Stark’

“Thor?” Loki’s voice, coming from the couch just behind him, was hoarse and quiet. Nervous.

Thor turned to face him, taking one hand gently, “I’m here. It’s alright, brother.”

The anxiety and lingering sleep slowly began to clear from Loki’s eyes, “What’s that?”

“An apology from Tony.”

“Stark knows what an apology is?”

Loki began to attempt to push himself up to a sitting position, but his arms almost gave way. He would have collapsed back down, but Thor smoothly caught him, expecting this, and gently helped him to sit up.

He kept a soft hold of his arms while Loki breathed through whatever pain had been sparked by the movement, and only held the card out for him to read once he saw Loki’s frame relax.

“Asking for that drink was the first thing I said after his control was fully broken,” Loki murmured as he finished reading, and slid himself off the couch to sit beside Thor on the rug.

Thor took his hand and squeezed gently, “He’s gone. Your mind will never be taken from you again.”

Loki leaned against Thor, his head resting on his shoulder, “Can we open a bottle?”

“It’s your gift. We can do as you wish,” Thor turned to kiss his hair, “There’s 15, 20, 30, and 40 year old ones. Two 20 and two 30. Which do you want to try?”

“A twenty. Whichever one is closer to the right hand lower corner of the box.”

The obscure and idiosyncratic way to choose the bottle made Thor smile.

“I’ll get a couple of glasses,” he said, kneeling up and kissing Loki on the temple before he stood, “Bruce said not to have more than one small glass of alcohol per day until you’ve recovered.”

“I can’t imagine such advice goes down particularly well with an Asgardian patient population.”

“It doesn’t,” Thor smirked, finding a couple of rarely used glasses in a cupboard and returning to him, “Although after it became generally accepted that ale and mead don’t count as alcohol, people became more amenable to it.”

Loki’s lips turned up in a slight smile, amused and fond, that familiar behaviour no doubt as nostalgic to him as it was to Thor.

He watched as Thor poured out two small portions into the glasses.

His hand shook slightly as he lifted one up, but he held it steady enough to take a small sip.

“It’s not bad,” Loki observed, tilting his head to observe the amber liquid before taking another drink, “For Midgardian alcohol.”

“Let me taste,” Thor said, but as Loki held the glass out for him, he lightly caught both the glass and Loki’s fingers in his hand, holding the drink steady as he instead pressed a kiss to Loki’s lips.

He hummed thoughtfully as he pulled back, “Not bad indeed.”

Loki broke into a beautifully rich laugh, so deeply amused that Thor found himself immediately laughing too.

The thing itself had been playful, silly, unnecessarily flirtatious, but not that hilarious. Yet it had them laughing for far longer than it should have, until neither could remember what they had been laughing about at all.

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