Chapter 2
Thor was furious. He could not believe that Loki would fake his death once more. However, what stung even more was the fact that he had gone behind his back and attempted to kill their father. That level of treachery hurt his very core. He had already lost one parent, and yet, his brother had been prepared to take the life of the other. And to pour more salt on his wounds, he had been led to believe that he had lost him up until a few moments ago.
He stormed all the way down into the prisons, not stopping until he finally reached Loki’s cell. A brief wave of relief washed over his senses seeing his brother alive once again, but crimson bled back into his vision as he watched the trickster lounge casually with a book in hand.
How could he be so nonchalant?
It took but a moment for the mischief-maker to finally turn his attention to him. There was no doubt that his fury was clear as day, but that did not seem to faze his little brother at all. Loki simply closed the book in his lap and tilted his head, a smile stretching across his lips. It was a cruel, mocking smile that bore the top half of his white teeth at him. And oh, how Thor wished there wasn’t a barricade stopping him from knocking them down his throat.
“And to what pleasure do I owe your company? Have you come to lecture me, oh mightygod of thunder?” Loki asked, voice laced with false sweetness. His eyes wandered across his form as his mocking smile slowly turned into a full-blown scowl.
“Loki,” Thor grounded, stepping up to the barrier, “What have you done?”
The trickster stepped forward, lessening the distance between them. The barricade flickered from the proximity, but that did not stop him from leaning forward until he was almost nose-to-nose with the thunder god. “Yes?”
Thor reeled, hissing at him. “You trickster! I know that you have become a treacherous bastard, but you have never stooped this low,” he pounded his fist against the barrier, sending sparks flickering across its surface, “Why would you try to kill our father?”
The dark-haired god flinched, more than likely bothered by the reminder. But he was quick to remedy the moment of weakness. He steeled his expression. “Why not?”
Thor could not believe him. How could he be so dismissive? He felt his breathing quicken as he tried to smother down his anger. He wanted nothing more than to finally get the truth out of him, but he could not do anything while Loki remained behind a wall. His cell serving as a safety net for him at the moment.
But he could change that.
An idea struck and he quickly turned on his heel, beckoning for a guard to grant him access inside. It did not take long for one to answer to his request, as he wordlessly stepped inside the cell from the opening he was given.
Loki said nothing, crossing his arms and sniffing absentmindedly as he turned his full attention to him. There was no doubt that trickster was uncomfortable with his presence, but he cared not.
Thor stood quietly, eyes inspecting the room. When he had last seen the place, Loki had left it in ruin. The wreckage had been cleaned up, the only serving reminder was the crudely reassembled furniture that was still present. The room was now even more barren without all the luxuries that Frigga had once provided to her youngest son.
Loki held out his arm in a showcasing manner, motioning to his surroundings, “As you can see, I wasn’t expecting any company.”
Thor snapped his focus to the trickster. “I am not here to make pleasantries.”
The god of mischief snorted at that, but before he could utter another word Thor lurched forward, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt in one swift motion. He glowered at his younger brother, the usual mirth in his blue eyes no longer there. “This is no jest. I thought you were dead. Why play such a ruse?”
Loki closed his eyes and made no move to pull away from his grip. A brief moment of silence passed through them before Loki licked his chapped lips. His expression turned somber as he stared back at him with hooded eyes.
“You claim to have mourned for me before. I simply wished to see it for myself.”
That was not a response that Thor was happy to hear. He slammed his brother against the wall, causing Loki to make a disgruntled noise at the back of his throat. His head slapped against the hard surface with a dull thud, but he dared not vocalize the pain. Thor was not one to hold back during a fight and that was not about to change now.
Thor stilled, tightening his grip on Loki and resisting the urge to bash his fist into that face—at least not until he got some answers. “And our father?”
“Your father,” Loki corrected fervidly, “is merely in the way of the throne.”
“So, you attempt to take his life?”
“And yet, he lives another day and I’m back to this,” Loki motioned to his surroundings with a tilt of his head. Thor growled, shoving the trickster further against the wall. His fists tightened and twisted the fabric of his tunic as he lifted him higher. Loki exhaled sharply.
“Stop with your games and admit your failure,” Thor declared brazenly. He knew it was unlike him to use such words, but it seemed to have struck a chord as he watched Loki’s composure falter. He pressed on. “When will you learn that you’ll never win.”
Loki’s mouth twisted into a snarl and before Thor knew what had happened, he was stumbling back. He grasped at his chest momentarily, before staring down at the singed spot on his breastplate where Loki had struck him. He turned his gaze to his brother, eyes narrowed.
The trickster looked momentarily confused about what he had done, before gathering his wits and changing his stance. He shifted, posed to strike once again.
However, Thor was prepared this time to strike back. He instinctively reached for his hammer, only to realize it was missing from his belt. The warrior inwardly cursed—it was unlike him to leave behind Mjölnir, but he had been blindsided by the unfolded events to remember taking it with him. It mattered not now, for he could handle his little brother just fine without it.
He threw a punch at Loki.
The trickster braced himself, holding up an arm in defense. His forearm absorbed the blow, but that did not stop him from stumbling back from the force alone. It had been a mistake to engage Thor, especially under these circumstances.
Loki slid back, trying to place some distance between them, but instead, he found himself cornered. He now stood between a wall and Thor’s rage.
He swore under his breath. He was in no condition to fight Thor, especially when his own injuries had yet to heal. He may have faked his death, but it was no lie that he had been stabbed. It was the main reason why he had been very angry to find there had been magical limitations set, for he could not heal well without the aid of his seidr.
Right now, he could not really afford to sustain any injuries when he had yet to recover from his previous ones.
Loki inhaled sharply, before teleporting a few steps away. He escaped just in time to witness Thor’s fist collide with the wall. The white plaster splintered immediately under the strength of the blow and he was relieved to have avoided that.
But that did not mean he was safe. He could not afford another stunt like that without draining himself completely of what little magic he still had. He took a few cautious steps back, eager to put more distance between them. However, there was nowhere to run within this cage.
Thor was breathing heavily now and turned to face his brother. He blew the hair out of his eyes and glowered at Loki. “Fight me, coward!”
But before Loki could even say or do anything, a bulky arm nailed him, solid and strong. The trickster crumbled to the floor like a house of cards, the wind completely knocked out of him.
Loki felt white hot pain course through him, as he wheezed and cradled his gut. His ears rang as blood slowly seeped the front of his shirt. That hit had torn open his wound once more.
He knew Thor noticed the moment he did not feel another blow follow. Thor’s anger had dispelled quite quickly and was now replaced with a look of concern. From the corner of his own eye, he could feel those pitiful blue eyes watching him. He hated it.
He wheezed. “Don’t.”
While he was grateful that he was no longer being pummeled, a part of him wished for that wrath to return. It was certainly more preferred over the sudden sympathy he was being given. Loki hated showing weakness. He had screwed up and he knew it—he had been in no condition to fight, especially not against someone like Thor. His magic was useless in here and he had no weapon to use in his defense.
Thor said nothing, throwing his cape behind him before sinking down onto a stool. The seat creaked under his weight as a hand raked across his face.
Loki took that as his queue to finally sit up, still clutching his stomach. The sound of his own voice sounded distant as he shifted his gaze away from Thor. “Are we feeling better?”
“Why hasn’t a healer seen you?”
“To what? Treat the very madman that nearly slew the king?” Loki mockingly asked.
Thor frowned. “I still do not understand what you were thinking.”
“What is there to understand? Asgard is mine to rule.”
The god of thunder stared incredulously at Loki. He could not believe the level of greed behind those words. Loki was the son who wanted the throne too much, but he was in no right state of mind to have it.
And Thor did not wish to rule Asgard, but that also did not mean he wanted to abandon it either. He would still be a protector to the nine realms—but he wanted to do it as an Avenger and not as a king.
His father could not understand that. He did not approve of his decision and now it did not help that his father’s condition seemed to be on a decline as well. There was no doubt the king would fall into Odinsleep soon. His mother’s death had taken too much of a toll on the family, and to top it all off, the dark elves had left a portion of Asgard in ruin. The kingdom needed a king now more than ever, but Thor did not feel that he should be the one to fill that role. They needed Odin, not his son.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his beard. “Father is ill.”
Loki said nothing to that, not even a witty remark. Instead, he cast his eyes toward the back wall. He knew that Odin had grown feeble. He could not blame the king either, for he was old and had just recently lost his queen. Asgard needed someone to step up now more than ever, but he could not see Thor in that place. His brother understood battle more than politics. He does not know what is necessary for Asgard.
And he would not be able to be a proper king when it was obvious his heart lay elsewhere. The mortal had made him weak. The effect she had on him made him sick. Odin is a fool to believe that his eldest should be the rightful heir.
Loki frowned. He was never given a chance, even though he had always sought Odin’s approval. He understood the All-Father more than he would like and he was not blind to the fact that the king was unwell. He had been sick for ages and had convinced the kingdom otherwise—but the lie-smith knew better. Loki had every intent to end his suffering, but when it came time to end him, he hesitated. He could not will himself to do it, even after he had admitted that he was a monster. He loathed the man now more than ever, but he could not find it in him to kill him.
Sentiment, he blamed.
His jaw clenched. It drove him absolutely mad—monsters should not feel anything. But he could not sit here and dwell on that, especially with Thor present. He buried his fingers into his inky hair as he shifted his focus to the crack in the wall.
When rage fueled his brother, Thor was capable of destruction. It surprised him. He had assumed that his brother had gone completely soft after he had been banished to Midgard, but it seemed that temperament was still as volatile as ever. He had underestimated him.
And it seems that he had been doing that a lot lately. Perhaps, it was hewho has gone soft?
The sound of the stool scraping stirred Loki from his thoughts. He whipped his attention and saw the thunder god step toward the barricade.
Thor was done speaking to Loki. There was no point in trying to talk sense into someone who refused to see the error of their ways. He had pressing matters to tend to and a promise to keep. He motioned for a guard to release him, but the Einherjar nearby made no movement to approach. Instead, they threw a glance at his direction and squared their shoulders as they turned away. The warrior prince frowned and cried out for the guard, but no one came.
Something was amiss. Loki furrowed his brows, turning his full attention to the scene before him. He carefully got to his feet and strode toward the wall himself. What in the nine realms was going on?
Thor did not seem to notice or care for Loki’s presence. He pounded his fist against the barrier, demanding the attention of the guards. Perhaps they had not understood him? The ruckus seemed to have been enough to cause one of the soldiers to finally come and he looked upon the annoyed prince with an impassive gaze. This did nothing to settle the rising confusion.
Thor narrowed his eyes. “What is the meaning of this?”
“The All-Father has issued your detainment until further notice,” the Einherjar clarified, “by his decree, you shall remain imprisoned.”
The thunder god saw red. How could his father do such a thing? He knew Odin did not want him abandoning the throne, but he could not believe that his father would stoop to such lengths to keep him in Asgard. It was beyond childish.
“What nonsense is this? As prince of Asgard, I command thee to release me at once!”
But the guard said nothing more and turned away, leaving a very angry Thor to pound his fists against the barrier. It sparked with each hit, but not even the thunder god was capable of tearing down the magically-imbued barrier.
Loki’s mood immediately shifted. His green eyes gleamed as he clasped his hands behind his back. What could have Thor possibly done to upset the king? He did not think he would ever see the day that Odin locked up his golden son. Whatever had happened, it must have been serious.
“It seems I’m not the only one with a talent for displeasing the All-Father.”
Those words gave Thor pause and he turned to look at his brother. His knuckles cracked as he clenched them tighter. Loki had done enough. He had many things to say about this, but his anger could not be put into any words right now.
Instead, he chose to finally punch Loki in the face.