Chapter 7
-
Thor woke abruptly from a glorious dream of warm sun, an opulent garden, and a fully healed Loki, to the sounds of desperate, rapid breaths close beside him. The sounds of the real Loki, far from healed, waking from a nightmare.
His every inward breath hitched, painful and terrified, his entire body trembling as he struggled to breathe.
Hyperventilating, tears streaming down his cheeks, and his fingers clawing at his own wrists. He had already reopened some of the gashes on the left side, tearing at restraints that were no longer there. Blood had seeped into the once white bandages and was spilling over his skin.
Thor quickly but gently took Loki’s hands in his, pulling them away before he could do himself too much damage, and held him close, encircling him in a safe and strong embrace as he spoke soothing words, willing his voice, deep and rumbling like thunder, to comfort Loki’s mind even if he didn’t hear or comprehend the words.
Thor needed to surround Loki with every promise of safety and protection he could offer. He needed to gently guide his mind back to the present, away from the dark memories of cruel torture and never ending pain and fear.
Every nightmare Loki suffered broke Thor’s heart, even more so as they became less frequent. Each one now hit them both harder than before. But this morning it hurt Thor even more than usual.
In just a few hours, he had to leave Loki. He hoped it would not be for long, but he had to go to the meeting hall to speak with the council. They’d expressed concern over Loki’s return to Brunnhilde and insisted they speak with the king about the matter.
Thor couldn’t refuse, but he now wished he had. Leaving Loki alone at any time would have worried him. After a nightmare it felt impossible.
But it was his duty.
This was not a matter Brunnhilde could handle on his behalf. The council needed reassurance from Thor himself, or they’d never be convinced. If Thor didn’t address this promptly, mistrust and fear and discontent could fester and grow, and Thor couldn’t afford that. It would do no good. Not for Loki or for New Asgard.
And Thor wouldn’t be far away, he reassured himself as he continued to hold Loki and whisper softly to him as the tremors kept racking his body. The meeting hall was not far from their house, and no harm would come to Loki while he remained in New Asgard, no matter how far Thor might have had to go.
Thor knew Heimdall, Brunnhilde and Bruce would protect him if ever Thor could not.
Loki would be safe, but he would also be afraid. His mind would wander to his torture, and he might believe he was back there, that this had all been a dream and a lie and Thanos would come for him.
“I must clean and rebandage your wrists,” Thor said softly as Loki’s panic slowly subsided, “Do you think you can stand?”
“I didn’t realise...” Loki’s voice was hoarse, distant, confused, as he raised his hands to look at the torn and bloody bandages, “I still feel it. All of it. The heat and the blades and chains a-and his hands in my mind, tearing it apart and putting back what he wanted.”
Thor shut his eye, hugging Loki more tightly, “It’s over. None of that will ever happen to you again. Not ever. And in time the feelings of it will fade.”
“I want to kill him again,” Loki growled, his fingers damp with blood where he pressed them tightly against Thor’s back, “I want to kill him again, and I want it to be slow and agonising. I want to use the mind stone on him, break his mind, and force him to slowly saw off his own head.”
“He’s dead, Loki, and he will remain dead. As much as I would like him to suffer, he is gone and will not return,” Thor murmured, “He can never harm you again.”
Loki shuddered and pressed his forehead against Thor’s shoulder, “I think I got blood on you.”
“We’ve bled on each other more than enough that I hardly think it matters,” Thor smirked slightly, “Consider it my due for that time I was injured from fooling around at a feast and bled all over your favourite silk tunic.”
“I liked that tunic,” Loki muttered as he allowed Thor to help him to his feet and guide them to the bathroom, switching each light on as they went.
“The tailor who made it is in New Asgard. Perhaps she can make another.”
“She’d need to make a whole outfit,” Loki winced as he let his legs buckle and sat on the tiled floor of the bathroom, frowning at his wrists, “I have nothing that matches. Not even in hidden dimensions.”
“I’m certain she would rather make the complete thing than only part,” Thor set about getting the saline wash, wet wipes and sterile gauze, “Should I ask her to do so?”
The small, hesitant smile on Loki’s lips was as clear an answer as if he’d simply said yes.
Thor smiled softly back, kissing him lightly on the forehead before setting to the task of washing his wounds.
Loki was still dazed, confused, his mind caught between the present and the past, and Thor knew it would take some time for him to come back to himself. He could only hope that would happen before Thor had to leave later that morning.
“Would you like to go back to bed?” Thor asked as he finished taping the last bandage, “Do you think you can sleep again?”
Loki frowned slightly, confusion and fear in his eyes, but instead of answering the question, he grabbed one of the wet wipes from the packet Thor had been using to clean blood from around the wounds, and raised it to wipe Thor’s shoulder.
Cleaning away the blood he’d transferred when he hugged himself against Thor earlier.
Thor watched the motion, shuddering slightly at the cold dampness on his skin at first, but soon relaxed and allowed this to continue.
But then Loki’s breath began to grow unsteady, his fingers weakening their hold and letting the cloth fall as he dropped his head to Thor’s shoulder, his whole body trembling as he began to silently cry.
Thor swallowed back his own tears and wrapped both arms tightly around him, holding him close against his terror and despair.
“Loki…”
A shiver ran through Loki’s thin frame and he quickly shook his head, “Let’s go back to bed. I-it’s not yet dawn.”
Thor nodded, bowing his head to touch it to Loki’s, before easily lifting him into his arms and carrying him back to bed.
He lay them both back down on the mattress without needing to break contact between them, without Loki ever having to raise his head from Thor’s shoulders, where it remained as Thor pulled the blankets over their joined bodies.
He felt Loki’s tears, still falling silent, dampen his skin.
The nightmare had cut Loki very deep this time. Either that or some memory or emotion that had stirred within him since. Thor didn’t know and wouldn’t press for answers Loki wasn’t ready to give. He would only do what little he could to reassure and comfort him until he could find himself again.
“You’re safe, Loki,” he smoothed one hand up and down Loki’s back, “I will allow no harm to come to you. I will protect you with every ounce of strength I have.”
He nudged Loki gently with his chin, “And I have a lot, in case you didn’t notice.”
The playful words drew a small surprised laugh from Loki’s lips, and his voice strained to sound light, “It’s easily missed.”
“I suppose I’ll need to train more.”
Loki hummed and pulled himself closer against Thor, his tears still falling, and not stopping until after he had succumbed to an exhausted sleep.
-
“How do I look?” Thor asked with a broad smile, opening out his arms and turning slowly to show Loki his formal clothing. The Asgardian garb he wore for council meetings and any official matters.
A rich, deep blue hue to his armour, gold designs and shapes adorning it, a cloak of a rich red with fur around the shoulders and a gold chain fastening it, all of it seeming to glow in the warm morning sunlight that now filled the room.
Loki was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching with a fond smile, although the marks of exhaustion and despair from his disturbed night still showed in the dark shadows around his eyes and the nervous motions of his fingers at the edge of one of his bandages.
This was the first time he had seen Thor’s formal attire, and the shine of pride he saw in Loki’s eyes, despite the echoes of his nightmare, filled him with so much joy that it very nearly drove out his concerns about leaving Loki alone and facing the council.
“You look almost like a king,” Loki tilted his head, smiling playfully.
“Almost?” Thor smirked in feigned offence, sweeping his cloak out of the way to stalk the few paces towards the bed, “Almost? And what kingly aspect, pray tell, am I lacking?”
“A stern expression,” Loki offered a pretence of something severe and harsh before breaking into a smile again, brushing his hands over the fur of the cloak, his eyes following his fingertips.
Loki loved fine and soft fabrics. Thor made a mental note to have a cloak like this made for him. Green with black fur. A beautifully soft, thick fur.
“It is difficult to wear a stern expression when I am so filled with joy at having you back,” Thor smiled fondly and leaned down to kiss him, “But, rest assured, I can wear a suitably stern expression when necessary.”
“Let me see.”
Thor attempted to do so, to demonstrate his severe glare, but it was so incongruous to the happiness he felt just looking at Loki sitting up in their bed that he immediately broke into a laugh, prompting an echoing laugh from Loki’s lips.
“Incredibly stern. It is a wonder all of Midgard does not quake in fear of you.”
“Stop it,” Thor laughed again, “I’m supposed to be serious when I attend the council.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
Still smiling in amusement, Thor suddenly felt a whisper of magic brush over his hair, tugging slightly, moving it. Raising a hand, he felt three intricate braids holding it back on that side, a metallic bead woven into one of them.
“There,” Loki smirked and shook his head, “Now your hair looks less like a bird’s made a nest in it. You might even pass for a king.”
Thor laughed, “Even without the stern expression?”
“Even without that.”
Thor let his smile linger as he kissed Loki softly, but then he became more serious, “You’ll be alright alone while I am gone? I can ask Heimdall to stay with you?”
“I think there being someone else here when you’re not may play tricks on my mind,” Loki offered a broken smile, “It can conjure enough of those on its own without external factors to aid it.”
Thor nodded, “As you wish. I hope not to be long. Do you need anything before I go?”
“Make another pot of coffee.”
“Of course,” Thor held out his arms to help Loki to his feet, keeping an arm around his waist as they went to the kitchen.
He prepared a pot of coffee, filling their mugs and drinking his own quickly as he set about the last steps of preparing to leave - ensuring Loki had a hydration drink easily accessible from the couch where he now sat, and a blanket close by in case he grew cold, and that the curtains were fully open to allow the morning sunlight to fill the room.
He knew Loki would be safe, but he feared what torments his mind might force upon him almost as much as he still feared returning to find Loki gone and this all a lie.
The taste of coffee - the new brand of coffee they had chosen together - on his tongue reminded Thor of home and of Loki and that all of this was real, as he walked along the grey stone path towards the meeting hall.
It would be his first time to meet with the council since Loki returned. The full assembly would be there, even though the concerns had been raised only by three individuals, according to Brunnhilde.
This way, if anyone else had questions or worries, they could ask now. It would save Thor having to do this more than once, and it ensured everyone heard what was said. If others had concerns but were less outspoken, they could be put at ease too.
Brunnhilde was already waiting for him just outside the meeting hall, dressed in the full attire of a Valkyrie, and a little way behind her, Bruce stood in his own Asgardian clothes, based on those typical of the healers of Old Asgard.
“Your Majesty,” Brunnhilde bowed her head as he approached, “Thanks for doing this.”
“I wish minds to be at ease. And I do not want Loki to face any hostility when he is ready to enter into life in New Asgard fully. That alone will be difficult enough, without wry looks or cruel words.”
“Well, it’s only the three I mentioned who’ve expressed any concerns to me. Some seemed genuinely pleased that he’s back,” she shrugged.
“Some of my patients have been really kind about him,” Bruce added, confirming Thor’s expectation that the news would have already gone beyond the council, “There are people here who admire and respect him a lot. I don’t think you need to worry too much about a few outspoken opponents.”
“And, if you spur the telling of stories, there’ll be poems and songs about his epic battle before too long,” Brunnhilde smiled and opened the door to the hall, stepping in first, “You know how our people love an epic poem.”
Thor smiled fondly. The poets had already had their say about many of his own battles, as well as those of his father and friends. Loki had featured in some, but not many, and Thor felt he deserved one of his own. He’d just have to make sure all rumour was swayed in a direction that showed Loki favourably, and avoided anything too close to the truth. Anything close enough to trigger his trauma.
Thor had no throne of gold to sit upon as he held council. Only an ornately carved chair of polished oak with furs over it, raised on a step higher than the others in the room. That was the closest New Asgard had to the great golden throne Thor had only once sat upon as king.
“Brunnhilde,” Thor said as he took a seat, “The council will have matters other than Loki to discuss, I’m sure, so after I’ve addressed all the concerns brought to me, I’ll hand the meeting over to you, if you have no objections. I would like to return to Loki as soon as possible, and I think everyone seeing me pass the meeting, and this chair, to you will solidify their willingness to recognise your position of rule in my absence.”
“No objections from me, Your Majesty.”
Thor smiled and was about to thank her when the door opened again and Heimdall stepped inside, informing them that the council members would soon be arriving, before going to take up his seat in the hall. One of the nearest seats to the throne, the only other an equal distance away being Brunnhilde’s.
It took several minutes for everyone to arrive and be seated, and Thor waited with an appearance of patience, although he longed with every fibre of his being to return to Loki.
When finally everyone had arrived, Thor stood and drew to an immediate close the hushed talk that had begun to grow among the people.
“Thank you all for attending this meeting,” Thor began, “The purpose of this assembly is to address any concerns or questions you may have relating to the arrival of Prince Loki here in New Asgard. I know that Captain Brunnhilde had already informed you of the circumstances surrounding his arrival and inability to join us here sooner. However, I understand that some of you may have reservations about his presence here. So, please, speak freely so that I may understand what worries you and put your minds at ease.”
“Your Majesty,” Kalf, one of the more outspoken of those to cause divides on The Statesman, began, standing and bowing, “Thank you for speaking with us. We are grateful for your time.”
Thor inclined his head, gesturing for him to proceed with what he wished to say.
He took some time coming to it, however. Everyone knew Thor loved Loki greatly, and so the hesitation was expected, but it frustrated Thor. He could guess the reasons, and he wanted to get back home. Every moment away was a chance for Loki’s mind to stray and torment him.
“We are concerned about the return of Prince Loki, Your Majesty,” Kalf said, unnecessarily repeating that fact, “We fear he may have underhanded motives and seek to take the throne from you. He is, after all, the birth son of Laufey of Jotunheim, a frost giant, and an enemy of our people. He did take the throne from your father once already. We fear this may be a trick and he seeks to do so again.”
Thor listened with a mask of indifference.
Cold.
Stern, as a king should be.
“Those statements are not as related as you suggest, and I will address them in turn,” Thor replied firmly, “First, yes, Loki was born to Laufey, and is, by birth, a frost giant. But neither he nor I knew anything of this heritage until only a few years ago. He has no bond to the frost giants, feels no kinship to them. Recall that he killed Laufey to protect Odin. He is of Asgard, not of Jotunheim. He was raised among us, and feels his people to be our people.”
“But, Your Majesty,” one of the others said with genuine worry in his voice, “He is still a frost giant. A m-“
A sharp nudge from his neighbour stopped the word ‘monster’ from escaping his lips. But Thor knew it was what he thought. A frost giant was a monster and thus so too was Loki.
The notion made Thor feel sick with rage that any should see Loki that way, but he remained impassive and waited for the Asgardian to finish speaking.
“He is still the son of Laufey, who was Odin’s greatest enemy, and what child is so different from their father?”
“Hela. Was she not different from Odin?” Thor said immediately, “Am I not different from her? And would you say I am just like my father? I would think not. No child is just like their parents. Who they are comes from how they were raised and who they were raised with. Who they were raised among. Loki never knew Laufey, but he did grow up under the influence of Odin, Frigga, myself, and the ways of Asgard. It is that which forms him, not his birth parents.”
He waited, but no more questions came so he continued.
“I understand your fear that he would usurp me, but I do not share it. I can’t ask you to trust him as I do, because you don’t know him as I do, but I will ask you to consider the reasons behind his actions in taking Odin from the throne.”
He paused but spoke again before they could offer suggestions. Thor didn’t actually know if what he was about to say was entirely true. If any of it was true. And he wasn’t sure Loki knew why he’d done it either.
Loki had been grieving Frigga, suffering the psychological consequences of torture and mind control, and was still in agony over the lies Odin had told him and the cruel words he had spoken.
Thor had heard Loki’s sentencing after Thor brought him back to Asgard, and he couldn’t forget Odin’s dismissal of Loki that led him to let himself fall.
Loki’s mind had gone astray and his taking the throne had not been the act of someone thinking clearly.
It was the act of a frightened mind tormented by grief and pain.
But Thor wouldn’t say that.
He would spin a possible explanation, which may or may not be the truth, to appease these council members and ensure they didn’t cause trouble for Loki as he struggled to recover from the years of torment.
“Captain Brunnhilde has informed you of what happened,” Thor remarked, looking to her, “Of how Loki took the tesseract and lured a being of great power away from us, defeated this monster who would have endangered all the universe.”
At their nods of agreement, he continued.
“This being had taken Loki before, after he fell from the bifrost. Had controlled his mind so he would attack Midgard and retrieve the tesseract. When Loki fought against the mind control with sufficient power to prevent the monster from achieving his goals, which led to his being returned to Asgard, he was hunted,” Thor stated confidently, “When Loki took the throne from Odin, he could have killed the alfather, but he did not. He used a spell to block his memories and placed him somewhere safe on Midgard. He sent me away to Midgard or on quests. He removed from Asgard those who he loved, ensuring that if the monster saw through his disguise and came for him, neither I nor my father would be used against him. Had he allowed himself to remain a prisoner on Asgard, it would have endangered all our people. He could be found and our people, Odin and myself above all, would be made to suffer. Loki’s actions were part of a strategy against a dangerous enemy who it took many years for him to defeat, not an attempt to permanently seize the throne of Asgard. If that had been his goal he would have sought to kill both me and Odin. He did not.”
Thor paused then continued more sternly, “Loki does not desire, and never has desired, a throne.”
“But Your Majesty, if I may,” Kalf objected, “Surely if all this comes from his own words. From his lips which are known to spread lies, we cannot-“
“Enough!” Thor’s voice cracked like lightning through the room, “I know Loki better than any of you. Better than anyone else. He is a trickster, but he is also a prince of Asgard, your prince, and he cares for our people as much as I do. If he did not, he would not have served Asgard so well under the guise of my father, nor would he have brought the ship to rescue you all, risked his life to unleash Surtr and defeat Hela, or lured a threat he knew may kill him away to enable our escape. He has shed as much blood as I have to protect our people.”
He stood, his towering stature raised even more by the pedestal on which his throne sat.
“Loki is no threat to Midgard or New Asgard. He never desired a throne, and still does not. And now, especially, after so arduous a battle and the injuries inflicted upon him, he wants nothing more than to live in peace in New Asgard, where he belongs. This is his home and he will be made welcome here,” Thor commanded sternly, “He is to be afforded all the respect due to a prince of Asgard, and any hostility shown towards him will be seen as a direct affront to me. Is that understood?”
Silence. Bows of acknowledgment.
Thor took up his seat again but never let his rigid and imposing posture lapse.
He was genuinely angry about how they spoke of Loki, and sickened by the part of him that reminded him, in a voice horribly like that of his imagined spectre of Loki, that Thor had once considered all those things of his adopted brother. Back when he believed the attack on Midgard had been his choice, and suffered the agony of having been betrayed.
Thor didn’t enjoy commanding so directly and so sharply either, but he knew that the concerns came more from Loki’s parentage than any of his past actions, no matter what Kalf claimed. Each of these three men who had spoken of concerns to Brunnhilde had lost brothers or fathers in the war with Jotunheim, and Thor knew of their hatred of the frost giants from words they spoke more freely in his presence when he was still prince.
“Have you any further matters you wish to discuss while I am here?”
“What being did he fight, Your Majesty?” another spoke, curious rather than the accusations of the one who spoke before.
“A titan who commanded a considerable army, and several powerful generals,” Thor replied, “I have seen the titan’s head as proof of his defeat.”
That, of course, drew the murmurs of approval and admiration among some of the council members, whilst he could see others pretending to understand, to know what a titan was. Many who sat here had not been educated in the various species of beings around the universe, had not been raised to become members of a council.
“How severe are his injuries, Your Majesty? How long ought we expect for his recovery?”
“I do not know how long it will take for him to recover. His injuries were grave,” Thor said solemnly, “He will recover fully, but it may take many months or more. During which time, I will remain with him, and trust you all to show Captain Brunnhilde the same deference and respect you afford to me.”
When no one else broke the silence with a question, he continued, standing and gesturing to Brunnhilde, “Now, if no one else has concerns regarding Prince Loki’s return, I will hand this meeting to the captain. I’m certain there are many other matters that you may wish to discuss.”
With all appropriate formality, Thor left the hall at last, letting his shoulders sag just slightly as he got outside, away from the eyes of his people.
He’d need the walk back home to cool the anger the words spoken against Loki had stirred within him, and the guilt at having needed to speak so firmly. He’d rather not command that Loki be respected, but have people do so because it was what he deserved.
Hopefully, however, his words had reassured at least the majority of the council. Enough to oppose those who might still speak against Loki, and ensure that he would at least experience no animosity even if some still felt it.
There would always be those who didn’t like and didn’t trust him, just as there always had been. Loki had never been like other Asgardians, and he never would be. He wouldn’t be Loki if he conformed to the norms, but that difference inspired mistrust and hate among some.
Thor just needed people to accept him so he never felt unwelcome or unsafe in his home. After everything, Loki deserved that.
He deserved so much more than that.
Reaching their door, Thor unlocked and opened it slowly and quietly.
He had expected Loki to retreat to the one windowless room in the house as he had before, seeking a sense of security in the corner of the bathroom where he could see every part of the room and the one way of entering it.
But instead Thor found Loki sitting on the couch.
Not relaxed. Not in the least calm.
He was sitting rigidly upright.
The arm that bore Thor’s name was without its usual glamour so that the fingers of his other hand could trace the raised marks of the scars. A continuous, repetitive, motion. The only motion Thor could see other than the too rapid rise and fall of his chest with each uneasy breath.
In that same hand, blue and ridged with heritage lines, he held a knife.
The reason for the knife was clear as Thor stepped into the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Thanos’ head sat directly in front of Loki on the table in the kitchen, the sole focus of his attention.
No one other than Thor would have been able see any expression on his features, but Thor saw it. He saw the fear in his eyes as he looked upon the mutilated head of the one who had broken him.
“Loki...” Thor took a step closer, “Brother.”
A flicker of something crossed over Loki’s features and he flinched before his posture softened just slightly.
“I needed to be sure he was dead,” Loki’s voice betrayed far more of his fear than his body did, “I heard him. I heard his voice and I needed to...I needed to see.”
He shuddered, waving one hand quickly through the air, conjuring the head away.
“I don’t want to see it anymore.”
Thor approached only now, knowing Loki’s mind was here, and took a seat on the coffee table, his cloak flowing out over it and onto the floor.
He reached out to gently take the knife from Loki’s grip, finding no resistance, although Loki’s gaze followed every movement.
A slight frown passed over his features as Thor took his hand between both of his, and slowly the blue seeped away back to the pale Asgardian skin Thor knew so well, the raised scar of Thor’s name becoming the illusion of an inked tattoo once more.
Loki drew an unsteady breath, staring at their joined hands.
Thor looked on them too.
And beyond them, to Loki’s feet, prompting a small smile to appear on his features, “Are you wearing my crocs?”
“I might be,” Loki replied, his voice still distant but growing less so.
“They’re comfortable, are they not?”
“They’re ugly and I hate them.”
Thor smirked, “Would you like me to buy you some?”
“No,” Loki said immediately, then with barely a pause, “Do they come in black?”
A soft, fond smile crossed Thor’s features, “I expect they do.”
He hummed quietly and pressed his free hand over Thor’s name on his arm, “So, are the council vying for my banishment, imprisonment or execution?”
The words were said in a tone entirely intended to be cold to hide how much he feared those sentences. Having his home and safety torn from him when he’d only just found it.
Thor only squeezed his hand in reassurance, “Loki, this is your home. You are safe and welcome here. No one will attempt to make you leave or imprison or execute you.”
The words felt empty when Asgard had also been their home. Thor has been banished from it, Loki had been imprisoned there and may well have been executed had it not been for Frigga.
“You are safe and welcome here,” Thor repeated, “A small number of council members had concerns, believing you might be deceiving me and wish to take the throne.”
“I’m not.”
“I know,” Thor released his hand to cup the side of his neck, “I know that and I trust you. It was nothing more than the concerns of a few, and they were easily addressed.”
“I’ve done terrible things in the past,” Loki whispered with a distant, abstracted horror, “Are you not concerned?”
“Have I given you any reason to think that I am?” Thor smiled fondly and brushed back his loose hair, “No, Loki, I’m not. I admit that after the attack on Earth, I did almost give up on you, for a time, when I believed those actions had been of your own choice. Had we still been there, I would have said that I am concerned. But we’re not. And now I do trust you as once I did because I know the truth, and I understand your actions.”
Loki swallowed thickly and lowered his head, nodding slightly without raising it.
“Loki, please, understand that I trust you, that you are safe here. None shall take you from me and none shall harm you.”
Dropping his head against Thor’s shoulder, Loki offered a small, weak, reply, “I understand. Believing is where my mind fails.”
“That will come in time, brother,” Thor reassured, wrapping his arms around him, “And I will remind you of it as often as you need.”
They remained silent in each other’s embrace for a long time, Loki’s hands coming to press against his back beneath the rich red cloak, his face buried in the fur.
The embrace and silence were broken by Loki, sitting straighter and looking past Thor to the window, but not letting his hands lose contact with the other god before him.
“Are there buildings near this one?”
“Heimdall’s house is the closest, and beyond that the meeting hall, and then there is some distance yet before any other houses,” Thor replied, frowning slightly at the unexpected question, “We left plenty of space between buildings to allow room for New Asgard to grow.”
Thor shifted over to sit on the couch beside Loki, “Why?”
“Could we-“ Loki took an unsteady breath, “I-I want to go for a walk. Outside.”
“Today?”
“No. Not today. Today I- but soon.”
“Brother, are you certain you’re ready?”
So far, Loki had only been outside once since arriving, just beyond the front door to watch Thor charge the generators. He couldn’t walk more than a few steps on his own, and even supported he struggled with just the length of the lounge area.
“No,” Loki let out a nervous, breathless laugh, “No. I’m not ready.”
“Then why? Why not wait until you are?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be,” Loki’s hand curled into a fist where it held Thor’s cloak, “I-I’m...I’m afraid, Thor. That if I-I leave, go too far outside, he’ll find me. He’ll come and- I know it’s absurd. It’s ridiculous. He’s dead. I killed him. I know I killed him. I spent however long just staring at his damned decapitated head! But I feel safe here and not out there and I think if I let it fester it’ll become too entrenched.”
He shut his eyes and drew a shaky breath, “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
Thor felt tears prickle in his eye at Loki’s distress. His pain and fear. And he felt a simmering anger over all that damned titan had done to him to shatter him so completely.
Only a few days after arriving, Loki had stood just outside the entrance to the house, and showed no signs of the fear he now felt over going outside. In the few weeks following, that fear had appeared and grown. A new terror taking root even though the titan was gone.
“I understand,” Thor said gently, tenderly brushing a hand over Loki’s cheek and letting it rest against the side of his neck, “If it’s what you need, then we’ll do it. When you’re ready. On a day that has been less eventful than today.”
Loki silently nodded and lowered his head to look down at his own feet.
“One condition,” he raised one leg slightly, drawing Thor’s attention back to the Crocs, “You’re forbidden from wearing these outside.”
-