"I assure you, brother…the sun will shine on us again.”
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Thor’s hand convulsed as he held tighter to Loki’s front, his brother too still and limp beneath his grasp. The metal underneath him was ice cold, and his entire being was lit up with physical pain that was but a mere tickle of a feather compared to the emotional pain flickering up and down his chest like the lightning he wielded.
Brother - Thor thought desperately, wearily, painfully - this better be another one of your tricks -
The world exploded around them and Thor knew no more.
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Look at where we are -
Look at where we started -
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Frigga smiled down at him, brushing some of his loose hair back from his face as he pressed himself tighter to the bars of the crib, staring down curiously at the small creature lying there.
The baby was swaddled snugly in a warm green blanket, black fuzzy hair in a small halo around their tiny head. Their eyes were closed, their breaths rapid and even, looking so peaceful that Thor had to resist the urge to hold his breath to keep from awakening him.
“Mama?”
Frigga leaned down and hefted her son into her arms. He was getting a little too big for her to do this as easily as she had before, but she was going to cherish holding him when he was this little as much as she could.
She and Odin had been very careful with this; her husband had come to her, bloodied and war-weary, a fragile newborn in his arms. He had handed the baby to her, and she had taken one look at the small, innocent face and knew she would fight anyone and everyone to keep him safe.
So, they had kept him hidden. Had spread the word that the queen was expecting a babe; had said that with the stress of having her husband away at war had made it so she had not noticed the early signs of pregnancy. She had gone in seclusion early, spreading more rumors that the pregnancy was not easy on her and she wished to take no chances with the babe.
Somehow, they had succeeded in their secrecy.
She had “delivered” her babe, hale and hearty, and the rest of Asgard had been none the wiser.
Thor had been confused, of course he had, but he had been excited when Odin had told him that he was to be an older brother. And now, here they were, meeting for the first time.
“Mama, is this my brother?”
“Yes, my son,” she whispered against his soft temple, “This is your brother. Thor, meet Loki.”
Thor cocked his head and peered down at his little brother, sleeping peacefully.
“Hi Loki,” he whispered exaggeratedly, “I’m your big brother. And I am so excited to meet you, even if you are sleeping.”
Frigga’s heart clenched tightly at the love and excitement she could already see in Thor’s gaze; her eyes brimmed with happy tears.
Thor turned and saw her expression and her tears; and he looked a little alarmed, before he threw his arms around her neck and hugged her tightly.
“Don’t cry Mama! I’ll protect him. I promise! I’ll be the best big brother ever!”
Frigga smiled up to the ceiling, running her fingers through his soft hair as she cradled him closer to her. The tears kept building behind her eyes, and her voice got a bit thicker, but she pressed another kiss to Thor’s small head and whispered into his ear, “I know you will be.”
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Loki looked down at the pale skin of his forearm and fought hard to breath through his panic.
He was not frostbitten, not injured in any way -
His skin had turned blue -
All the stories he had heard growing up, about the monstrous, bloodthirsty Frost Giants, the war his father had fought to keep them from destroying worlds -
All the whispered admonishments he heard from maids and tutors growing up -
Be good, or the Frost Giants will come for you -
The Frost Giants will drink your blood out of your skull if they catch you -
And the words that rang loudest were those of his brother, young and wide-eyed and so earnest as he declared, "When I am king, I’ll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!”
Please, Loki begged silently, please, please, no -
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I thought you dead!
Did you mourn?
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A lock of black hair braided into his behind his ear -
Loki had always been the voice in his ear, guiding him in the better, if yet more mischievous, direction -
His brother’s horned helmet embossed into his right vambrace -
He always thought his brother would be on his right for the rest of eternity -
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The door to his room opened silently, the overwhelming rumble of the thunder cracks and echoes rolling overhead.
“…Thor?”
Small feet pad quietly over to the bed, wide green eyes peering through the darkness to the large lump underneath the luxurious red blankets.
Another rumble of thunder had him flinching, shoulders hunched up to his ears. Lightning flashed, illuminating the room for a split second.
“Loki? What are you doing here?”
His voice was rough with sleep, eyes only half-opened. Loki looked comically small next to the bed, his small five-year-old height barely allowing him to see over the edge.
Despite his question, automatically Thor lifted the blankets, watching as his little brother scrambled underneath, burrowing down deep into the mattress. All he can see once Loki settles is his brother’s eyes and forehead, the blankets wrapped around him like a cocoon.
His brother didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to.
The rumble of thunder grew louder, the sharp crack! of lightning making his brother jump again.
“Hey,” he whispered, holding out one of his hands. After a short pause, Loki freed one of his own small hands from the bundle of blankets he had made and clung tightly to him.
“It’s just a storm, you’re safe.”
Loki whimpered, the sound high-pitched and muffled by the blankets.
Thor’s heart broke at that sound of fear.
“Shh, it’s alright…”
He squeezed his brother’s hand tighter.
I’m here.
I’ll always be here.
I promised.
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Stay with me, okay?!
I’m sorry…I’m sorry…
Shh, it’s alright...I’ll tell father what you did here today -
I didn’t do it for him.
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Loki wanted to punch that stupid smug look off the giant purple grape’s face so fucking bad -
But Thor was in his grip, wounded and exhausted and in danger -
Thanos cocked his head, a small, superior smile on his face.
“The tesseract, or your brother’s head. I’m sure you have a preference.”
Thor had been Odin’s preference, had been the Warriors Three’s preference, had been the entirety of Asgard’s preference, and although Loki resented it, goddamnit did he understand it -
“Kill away,” he bluffed, centuries of acting making his words come out with surety.
Thanos flinched in surprise, but did not hesitate to press his gauntleted hand to his brother’s bare face.
The sound of Thor’s screams broke him faster than he thought it would.
“Alright, alright, stop!”
Loki closed his eyes for a long moment, scrambling for a plan, anything, anything at all -
Without giving himself enough time to second-guess himself, he put on a veneer of confidence. He reached into the pockets of spaces in-between realities, and pulled the Tesseract forward.
Thor’s look of horror and disbelief cut him deep, but he does not have the luxury of reassuring him -
The shadow of a desperate, foolish, borderline stupid plan takes shape at the edges of his mind.
But it is the only plan that might work.
Please work please work please work
He silently casts a spell, his seidr protesting at the amount of effort that the silent casting takes, but once it’s done…there is nothing to do but cast the dice.
He looked again to Thor, trying to wordlessly reassure.
And then he does what he does best.
He starts to use his silver tongue.
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Loki believed in three things.
He believed in himself. In his magical abilities, in his quick mind, in his warrior training imparted by countless hours in the Royal Gardens with his mother -
He had believed in Frigga. He always had, and always will. He believed in her abilities, in her magic, in her calm demeanor and the fact that beneath the wrappings of silk and royal jewels was a woman with a brain sharper than her daggers and the skill to wield both simultaneously.
Losing her had been like falling into the Void over and over again. Endless blackness, the panic and fear and helplessness that threatened to suffocate, to overwhelm -
Forgive me, Mama, I love you, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry
And lastly...Loki believed in Thor.
Believed - now, at least - that his brother would be a great king, would put his people first, would try his damn hardest to be fair and just -
Odin was right in putting more faith in Thor in the end, the bastard -
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Loki had never wanted the throne. He only wanted to be an equal.
Maybe he was never meant to be a king. Maybe he was never meant to be more than an outsider.
He would never be the hero of a fairytale. No one would sit around a fire and tell stories of his adventures and deeds. No child in the Nine Realms would beg their parents for a bedtime story with him as their hero.
When he died, Valhalla would never welcome him with open arms, and the Hel realm would spit him out in fear.
Well, it was a good thing he did not intend to die today.
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“I, Loki…Prince of Asgard…Odinson-“
Emerald green meets sapphire blue -
royal colors for royal brothers
“God of mischief -“
this pledge is for you, brother
“- do hereby pledge my undying fidelity -“
A summoned dagger, a quick inhale, a strike as quick as lightning -
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He’s six years old, his magic crackling across his fingertips and he’s giddy with excitement, his powers settling within his bones, as much a part of him as his marrow.
He keeps pace with his mother’s strides in the Royal Gardens, almost vibrating with his excitement.
Frigga smiles down at her youngest boy, delight building within her own heart. Whereas Odin was thrilled to start training Thor with Mjölnir, she was going to train Loki in his magic.
Once upon a time, before her marriage where she traded her daggers for a crown, she had been a warrior in her own right. It had been what caught the eye of Odin in his youth, a woman who could go toe-to-toe with him and sometimes even win.
She had learned quickly upon her marriage into royalty that words and interactions were a battle in of themselves, that sometimes the best weapon was the one you wielded with your voice.
“Are you going to teach me to fight just like Thor?!” Loki asked, his eyes alight with joy.
“Loki, sweetheart, you cannot fight just like Thor,” she explained calmly, holding up one finger when the light in his eyes began to dim a little bit, before she elaborated, “You are not built like him. Your best tools will always be speed, your magic, and above all, your mind.”
Loki looked confused now, for even at the tender age of six, he had heard the mutterings of how magic was viewed amongst the warriors of Asgard.
“But...Mama, isn’t magic cheating?”
Frigga knelt so they were eye to eye, holding onto his small shoulders gently.
She knew Loki would always be doomed to walk a hard path, and her heart ached for her precious child. She would try her damn hardest to protect him from it as long as she could, and in the interim, make sure that he would learn how to wield every possible weapon to fight them on his own when the time came.
Others may call magic nothing more than trickery, but when it came to her boys, there was no line she wouldn’t cross, no weapon that she would deem too unimportant for them to have in their arsenal.
“In war, cheaters live, love.”
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Even as Thanos’ hand wrapped around his throat, even as his lungs screamed for air, and his vision clouded over with black spots, Loki had to fight back the urge to laugh in the Titan’s face.
Checkmate, you bastard.
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“You will never be a god."
A flash of anger - of bitterness - is the last thing he sees.
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[coda: approximately fourteen million infinities away]
His magic coalesced within him, the draw of his seidr an iron chain wrapped around his ribs, pulling, pulling, pulling -
Loki wakes in an orange-tinged world, gasping, throat bruised and aching, a phantom hand clutching his chest -
It worked it worked it worked it worked -
His hands clutch at the ground, his heart pounding a rhythm like thunder in his ears -
Thor -
BROTHER!