Chapter Text
One second before Loki lets go of the spear, Thor knows.
He knows, he sees what will happen if his brother falls. He sees Loki dying, once, twice, thrice – and each time the loss cuts deeper. He sees their mother, sees her gown stained by her own blood, sees her soul ascending to the stars. He sees their father slumped on his throne, old and tired and broken by grief.
And then he sees himself, standing amidst shield brothers both old and new, sees himself fighting, feasting, laughing. He sees himself sitting on his father's throne, and feels secure in the knowledge that the realms will be at peace. He sees Jane by his side.
It is his worst nightmare, and at the same time it is everything he has ever wanted.
And he will not have it.
His mother explained to him that her gift of precognition sometimes felt like a curse: To know the future while being unable to change it, to see a tragedy unfold and being forced to ignore the signs. She learned years ago that interfering with the Norns' plan would only bring about worse catastrophes.
But this is Thor's first vision, and right now his mother's stories are the last thing on his mind.
Right now, there is only the howling of the abyss beneath him, and the frustratingly smooth spear that threatens to slip out of his sweaty palm.
Their father speaks only one word, and Loki flinches as if struck.
His brother's face looks so open, so vulnerable. It could be an act, a mask Loki assumes to inspire pity – one can never be sure with the god of lies. One can only believe.
Loki looks hurt, lost. But most of all, Loki looks scared.
Then Loki lets go, but Thor is prepared.
He does not allow himself time to reconsider. It is not one of his better plans – it is not a plan at all. He only knows what will happen if he watches his brother's demise without doing anything; any other outcome has to be better than that.
And so he twists in his father's grasp, turns, brings Gungnir around, and tries not to listen to the Allfather's cry of shock and pain as the legendary weapon cuts deep into his arm. Thor strikes with the intent to sever muscle, tendons and bone – he will do what is necessary, but he also averts his eyes, does not dare to look upon the damage he inflicts.
Odin lets go (or maybe he doesn't, not willingly – the fingers around Thor's ankle do not open, not right away, but he refuses to think about what that means), and Thor is falling.
His father is screaming, shouting, howling, and for some reason his brother is screaming as well, crying, wailing, sobbing. And still it sounds as if Odin's cries are ones of grief, whereas Loki only expresses outrage. It is almost funny. Thor would laugh, if he wasn't in the process of despairing himself.
He will not make it. He is falling too slowly, and Loki is too far ahead of him. Thor will not reach him in time, and so they will both perish in the Void, alone.
Gungnir is useless for this, so he lets go of the king's spear, not caring where it falls, and calls for his own companion instead. Mjölnir is in his hand almost the very instant he thinks of her, and all of a sudden he is no longer falling, but flying towards Loki.
It is enough. Barely. Just before the darkness claims them, Thor manages to grip his brother's collar.
Then the world ends.
Or at least that's what it feels like. Everything just stops, and then –
– disappears.
One moment he can feel the wind in his hair, the rush of flying, and then suddenly he is... not falling, not flying, not even floating. He just is. All light is gone, all air, all matter, the very concepts of gravity and direction and force and weight and time. He cannot see anything, cannot hear. There is only himself – and the reassuring feel of Loki's armor beneath his fingers.
His heart threatens to burst from the immense gratitude and relief he feels – or maybe those are his lungs, collapsing under the strain of containing the breath he has been holding in a place no living being was ever meant to see. He gasps in surprise, foolishly letting go of what little oxygen remained inside his body, and tries not to break under the strain. It does not feel quite like suffocating – it feels like being mortal again, except much worse, like every cell in his body is decomposing at an alarming rate. He does not have much time.
He softly grasps the side of his brother's neck with one hand, runs his fingers through the soft, dark tresses he finds there, and rests his forehead against Loki's. With his other hand he pulls Loki close, molds their bodies together the way he used to do when they were children and one of them suffered through a nightmare.
He wants this to be the last thing he feels, wants to dedicate his final thoughts to his little brother, wants to offer what little comfort he can still give despite their current situation.
Surely there are worse ways to die.
He waits for the inevitable sensation of his heart giving out, and only hopes that he manages to outlive Loki by a few heartbeats, so his brother does not have to witness his demise.
Strangely, it does not come. Nothing happens, nothing at all, for minutes. He should die like this, by all means his body should not be able to handle the strain – he has not been breathing, but for some reason he does not feel the need to. Fear and anxiety turn into quiet wonder.
Then he notices Loki's long fingers digging into his forearm, and recognizes the feel of his brother's magic.
Thor wants to call his name, wants to thank him, wants to shout and scream and demand an explanation – but there is no air, and without it, Thor cannot make any sound. Such is the nature of Loki's sorcery: He cannot conjure something out of nothingness, only change the perception of others. He did not summon air to breathe, but instead tricked Thor's body into believing it does not need any.
That is all the proof Thor needs. He does not know how long they can survive like this, but faced with the choice of watching his brother die or saving him, Loki did not choose to let him perish. Mere minutes ago they fought each other bitterly – now they stand together once more. No matter what happens, what madness befalls his brother or what schemes he entertains, this is what it always comes down to. A thousand years of affection cannot be destroyed by a moment's mistake. Whatever danger they face, they face it side by side.
He wants to say as much, wants to say anything to break the deafening silence around them, but it is just not possible. He can only hold on to his brother.
He calls on Mjölnir for support, raises her as if he intends to take flight – perhaps he can give their fall a direction, can influence their situation somehow – but alas, the hammer cannot gain any traction. He is the wielder of raw elemental magic; but without an atmosphere around him, without any clouds and air and water to do his bidding, he is useless.
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Time passes. Endlessly. Eternally. Thor loses track of it. He has lived for many centuries now, but now he feels as if he has spent a whole lifetime in the void. It is all just in his head, and he knows it; but the absence of all sensation, of surprise, of action, of everything that matters drives him insane. Even as a child he has always been unable to sit quietly during his tutors' lessons. He craves change. The boredom of it all chafes at him.
He has a lot of time to think. He learns that his brother has not only eliminated his need for air, but also all other bodily functions that would only hinder them here; he feels neither hunger nor thirst, nor a desire to sleep. It is an impressive spell, one he did not know Loki was capable of. Then again, he has always underestimated his little brother.
They need to talk. It occurs to Thor suddenly that he has no idea what was going on before they fell. His brother was acting strange on the bridge; nothing he said or did made sense. Thor is familiar with Loki's convoluted plans and their tendency to fire back on him – but this feels different. What was Loki even trying to accomplish this time? Was falling into the Void part of the plan? Did he know he could survive here?
The alternative should be too horrible to consider, but right now Thor can do nothing but think.
What if Loki had believed he would die here? What if that had been his intention?
The look on his brother's face shortly before he let go will haunt Thor forever – probably because it is the last thing he ever saw before ending up in this wretched place without light.
They really need to have words when they get out of here.
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Thor has always been prone to make stupid decisions when he is bored.
He also makes stupid decisions when he is angry, or frustrated, or irritated, or hungry, or tired, or sad.
He is ruled by his emotions, and they rarely lead him down a sensible path. He has gotten himself and his friends into trouble on more than one occasion, and the ill-advised trip to Jotunheim is merely his most recent mistake in a long list of possibly fatal adventures. It is not his intent to disappoint his family or create more strife. But he is the god of thunder, of lightning – of purposeless, random destruction. He is simply incapable of thinking ahead.
So perhaps it is a bad idea to break the focus of the sorcerer that is the only thing keeping him alive right now. Perhaps it is a bad idea to irritate his brother in his current state of mind, the brother that has already tried to kill him once.
But Thor is bored and Loki is his only source of entertainment, so Thor sets out to determine whether his brother is still as ticklish as he used to be.
He is embracing Loki from behind – the most comfortable position for the both of them in their current predicament. Even if Thor did not fear that Loki needed physical contact to include Thor in his life-preserving spell, he would be reluctant to let go: He does not want to lose Loki, does not want to be all alone in the darkness. With his arms already encircling his brother's waist, it is an easy task to slip his hands underneath his armor and seek out bare skin.
Loki reacts instantly by burying his elbow in Thor's side.
It doesn't hurt as much as it should; the absence of weight and gravity softens the impact. Still, it is Thor's first instinct to laugh the pain off, and his lungs spasm awkwardly as he tries to draw breath. He hugs his brother more tightly to him and attempts to tickle his side; Loki tries to free himself by clawing at his hands. This is a more effective tactic: It hurts, and Thor is almost certain that his brother's nails are drawing blood. Yet he does not let go. He reaches out for Loki's arms in an attempt to keep them still, but his brother avoids his grasp easily. Before long they are grappling like children, and Thor's heart is racing with a genuine, gleeful excitement he has not felt since their fall.
Loki does not try to push him off completely. Neither does his spell waver through it all, and Thor presses his forehead against his brother's hair in silent gratitude.
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This is not the life Thor has always envisioned for himself. Just a few days ago – or weeks, or months, or years, or centuries; he has no way of being sure – he was about to become king. He is still not sure where and how and why exactly it all went to Hel. He does not question his decision of destroying the future of his vision to keep his brother by his side, can't: That is simply not the kind of man he is. He still desires the crown, but not if it will cost his brother's life.
He wonders whether Loki feels the same way.
They have not spent much time with each other those past few decades: Thor can no longer claim to know his brother's heart. What he does know is that their bodies still fit well together, just like when they were children and still shared a bed. He remembers being happy and proud when they were finally given their own chambers – and he remembers lying awake for hours in his new, huge bed without his brother's familiar warmth next to him.
He remembers a lot of things now. His thoughts drift to Loki with an alarming frequency, probably because there is nothing else to focus on. He remembers the insecure little boy that followed him around wherever he went, the shy teen that was constantly trying to prove himself, and the man that eventually turned his back on him.
Thor squeezes his brother's arm carefully, conscious of how thin and fragile the limb has become during their time in the Void. He does not know much about sorcery, but he knows that no spell can be cast indefinitely. It is a constant strain on a sorcerer's inner strength to do so, and once the caster has burned through all of his magical resources he will need to find some other way to fuel his magic.
Loki's powers are impressive for a man his age, but they are no less finite. He has reached his limits some time ago; it is possible to keep the spell going, but that feat comes with a price. Loki is losing strength rapidly and his responses to Thor's attempts to tease him grow slower and weaker each time. He is wasting away.
Loki is dying because he has to keep them both alive.
It breaks Thor's heart. He has to do something, can't let his younger brother suffer like that – but he can't think of anything. Not for the first time he wishes he would have taken more interest in his own studies of magic, hadn't declared them to be pointless all those years ago. For the first time he is the one dragging his brother down.
Perhaps his mother was right – perhaps he actually did make everything worse by trying to change the future he had seen. Perhaps Thor has damned them both. Perhaps Loki would have survived if he had only had to focus on keeping one person alive rather than two.
He has to let go of Loki. Perhaps if Thor perishes, Loki's magic will last longer. On his own his brother might be able to survive long enough to find a way out of the Void.
But he can't. All of a sudden Thor knows how this will end if he dies and Loki drifts through the darkness alone.
He has another vision, a frustratingly vague one that makes no sense, consisting of nothing but disconnected images, effects without cause. A vision of Loki floating through nothingness on his own until some... thing finds him. (Thor cannot quite see what kind of creature it is; its body is shrouded in shadows, as if Thor's feeble, newly-awakened powers are not nearly strong enough to even gaze upon this monster.) He sees his brother battling Midgardian warriors, the same ones that were Thor's companions in his other vision. He sees Loki fighting with a viciousness his brother has never displayed before, sees him ending the lives of three of his enemies before his own is claimed by a vengeful green beast. He sees the shapeless monster of the Void coming to Asgard, but by that time the golden city lies already in ruins. Thor does not see himself.
His mother was right after all, and he will never be able to tell her that.
No. There must be some other way.
He has to save his brother, save them both somehow, but he does not know what to do. That's usually why he allows Loki to accompany them on their adventures: Whenever they face an opponent they can't fight conventionally or find themselves in a seemingly hopeless situation, Loki figures something out, always, without fail. Now, for the first time, it looks as if Loki does not have a plan.
So Thor has to come up with something. Usually his strategies come down to hitting his obstacles with his hammer until they give way, but somehow he doubts Mjölnir will be useful in this situation.
Except that the weapon is whispering to him.
The hammer does not have a voice in the conventional sense, but their souls are deeply enough intertwined that Thor experiences her emotions like his own. Right now she is agitated, frustrated – but there is a confidence to her that strikes him as odd, almost as if she knows something he doesn't.
He lets go of his brother with one hand to grasp her hilt instead (and Loki tenses noticeably, holding on to his other hand with feeble fingers – there is a raw honesty in this small gesture that is utterly unlike Loki. Thor squeezes back to reassure him). Mjölnir answers with a pleased hum.
Unfortunately, no answer comes to him. Mjölnir's powers are useless here, a fact he has already established – but the hammer does not seem to think so. Thor cannot rely on her primary functions here, and he knows she does not have the power to travel between worlds; there is something he is missing. There must be another way he can use her.
Asking Loki about it is not really an option right now, and maybe that is what makes him long for his brother's advice. He is not good at figuring things out without Loki's input. The most recent past is the best example: He had been banished to Midgard for all but three minutes when he had nearly been killed for the first time.
He has no choice but to touch Mjölnir all over and consider her strength and weaknesses, hoping he will find an answer this way. His fingers trail across the runes that bind the destructive power of a dying star to the hammer's physical form – and she rewards his efforts with a surge of emotion.
Then it hits him.
He knows the idea he now entertains is the correct one because the hammer praises him silently for it. She is filled with sorrow and regret, she wishes it could be different – oh, but if he does this she will love him so much, for he will have proven his worth until the end of all time. Never, never should he allow anyone to doubt him again, because no one could ever belittle this sacrifice.
She wants her greatest feat to be her final one.
It is the kind of decision that demands a dramatic speech, a heartfelt declaration. Instead Thor wraps both arms around his brother, holding on to him as firmly as he can, and wordlessly encourages Loki to do the same; this will be pointless if they get separated now.
The hammer hums softly in his hand – she is ready, and Thor is, as well. He only allows himself a small moment to transmit his feelings of gratitude and sorrow to his most faithful companion.
Then he pulls his knife from his belt, and starts stabbing at Mjölnir's runes. It is slow going, since the dagger is a hopelessly inadequate tool to damage a weapon like Mjölnir. It would probably not be possible if the hammer weren't encouraging him.
Thor is not sure whether Loki notices what he's doing; either way his little brother does nothing to stop him.
He is almost relieved when the hammer's head splinters under his efforts, when her runes are destroyed and all her power discharges itself in a blinding flash of light that pushes Thor away, sends him and Loki flying into the other direction. He is almost glad when she crumbles to dust in his hands, when their mental connection is cut once and for all, when the sudden sense of loss leaves him reeling, like he has lost a piece of himself he will never get back.
Almost.
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The first breath of air has to be the most delicious thing Thor has ever tasted, even though he inhales a lungful of dust and soot in the process. Gravity, he finds, feels less pleasant.
His muscles are no longer used to carrying him under these conditions – it feels like a mountain rests on his shoulders, and Thor finds himself unable to stand.
So he crawls over to Loki, slowly, as fast as he can despite his nerves flaring up in pain with every motion. He is not sure when he let go of Loki, and why, but now his brother is lying a few feet away from him, panting heavily just like him, his eyes closed against the blinding light that illuminates their surroundings. Thor himself is squinting, barely able to stand the brightness; but actually seeing something, seeing Loki alive and breathing after watching nothing but his lifeless body in his visions makes it all worth it. He looks utterly exhausted, and his clothing hangs loose around his body. Whereas Thor feels as healthy as he did when they fell, his brother appears to have lost a lot of weight, and his naturally pale skin has an unhealthy yellow tint. Still, his chest is heaving with each breath he takes: He lives. Loki will live. Even though their last interaction ended in a vicious battle, Thor feels no anger at the sight of him, only relief.
The sound of his body dragging across the ground catches Loki's attention. He turns his head, and Thor's mouth splits into a grin so wide that it almost hurts when those green eyes focus on him.
"Thor", he says softly, his voice hoarse from disuse. He sounds as if he can't quite believe that his brother is here, that they are both here.
Loki stares at him in a way he has not looked at Thor in centuries. There is so much awe and adoration in his gaze that Thor feels a little self-conscious. For years Thor has not been able to surprise or impress Loki in any way, but now here they are. He has forgotten how good that feels, how much he missed this.
But then Thor has to open his mouth and ruin it all.
"Brother", he says, and has just enough time to watch Loki's face become blank and guarded as his defenses slam back into place. It happens so quickly, so fluidly that Thor has no choice but to believe he imagined the tenderness in his brother's expression.
"Don't call me that", Loki snarls, or tries to: Just like Thor he struggles with the dust in the air, and the words come out feeble, not as loud or harsh as he probably intended. Still they cut deep, deeper than any other insults he has ever directed at his older brother in anger.
Then Loki vanishes from sight, and Thor screams in frustration until his voice breaks.
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The god of thunder knows what he has to do. He has participated in so many campaigns, quests and adventures that the right course of action comes to him easily.
He is in a realm he does not recognize, in a wilderness that consists of nothing but stone, dust and the occasional tree, arranged almost haphazardly in a combination of mountains and valleys that cause the muscles of his legs to cry out in despair. He has to find a stream, or another source of fresh water, then he needs to determine which plants and animals are edible (once he finds any) and find a safe place to construct a shelter.
He does none of those things. Instead he trudges across the hills, utterly graceless on stumbling legs, and shouts his brother's name.
For as long as Thor can remember, both his parents and Heimdall have claimed that Loki cannot be found unless he wishes to be found. That is not an excuse to avoid searching for him, however; Thor has made that mistake before. If he leaves his brother be, Loki will punish his neglect with malicious pranks that could prove to be fatal rather than simply annoying in their current situation. But if he goes looking for his brother (especially if he suffers on the way), Loki's bad mood will have mostly dissipated by the time they reunite, and he might even treat Thor civilly.
Or perhaps not. Loki does not want to become predictable, likes to keep other people on his toes.
He did not believe it would happen this quickly, but this is the sad truth: His joy upon seeing his brother alive has turned into exasperation at his antics.
"Loki!", he shouts, in his best imitation of their father's tone whenever he issues a command. "Come out! We need to have words!"
His brother cannot have gone far. He has to be even more exhausted than Thor himself. Surely he lies in hiding somewhere, watches and laughs as Thor drags himself along.
He still doesn't know what happened to Loki to make him so bitter that he can't even stand the sight of his older brother. While Thor was banished, he missed his brother fiercely: Whenever Jane said something clever that went completely over his head, he couldn't help but think about him. Was Loki glad to see him gone?
Exhausted he falls to his knees. With every second he spends on this realm, the air becomes more stifling. It is far too dry; his throat feels parched, pains him as he breathes. There is not a single cloud in the sky, and the ground looks as if it has not rained in weeks.
Alright then. He will try.
Summoning a storm with Mjölnir by his side was easy; without her it won't be the same. But in the end Mjölnir was nothing but a catalyst: The power to control lightning and rain comes from Thor himself. He should be able to do it on his own. In theory.
He raises his hand towards the sky, and predictably nothing happens. He tries again and yields the same result. In his youth the weather mirrored his emotions, and his father was forced to go to great lengths to teach him control, until this natural connection faded in time. Thor had never seen this as a loss – he received his hammer shortly after, so he felt no need for this instinctual, primal force. Now he tries to recall how he did it back then, how he can make it happen again in an unfamiliar world.
It takes him the better part of an hour. When he finally feels the first drops of rain on his face, he flinches in surprise. He still cannot quite believe it even as he opens his mouth and swallows a little water to ease his throat. It is nothing but a light drizzle, completely unlike the storm he envisioned. For now it is enough, but if he does not improve this will become a problem.
His powers are too unstable. How is he supposed to wield them in battle? How is he supposed to fight at all, without the weapon that was his companion for centuries?
"You sacrificed Mjölnir." Loki's tone is strangely flat, and Thor turns around to see him standing a few feet behind him, his hair damp by the little rain he managed to summon. His face is unreadable, so Thor chooses to tread carefully. He does not want to chase him off again.
"I did more than that", he sighs. "I injured our father, and because of me his spear is lost in the Void. It is a good thing we are stranded on an another realm already: Without the Bifrost he would never have been able to banish me here himself."
This is when the weight of his actions truly hits him. As long as they were in peril of some kind, it hadn't seemed important: But now that they are relatively safe, he feels only guilt and shame.
"Loki, I must know", he continues. "Did I cut off father's hand?"
"No."
For a second Thor feels his worries melt away into blessed relief, but Loki has not finished speaking.
"You did more than that. You severed his arm at the elbow."
Thor averts his eyes, cannot keep looking at Loki any longer. The Thunderer has always had a volatile relationship with their father; they loved each other dearly, but their arguments usually dissolved into loud shouting. This, though, this is something else. This is not something that can ever be forgiven. He was banished for sneaking into Jotunheim without his father's permission; but an open attack on the king is punishable by death.
"Do you regret it already?", Loki asks, and Thor turns to face him once more. There is a sneer on his face, as if he is already prepared to ridicule him for his rash actions as soon as Thor admits his mistake – but it does not quite reach his eyes. That in itself is strange: Either Thor has finally learned how to read his brother, or Loki willingly lets part of his emotions show on his face. It does not matter which is true; there is only one answer Thor can give in this situation.
"No", he says firmly, and watches the sneer fall from Loki's face. His brother takes a few steps towards him.
"Then you will soon", he says. The firm conviction in his voice takes Thor aback. Again there are no other options – there is just one thing he can say if he does not wish to hurt Loki.
"Never", he declares solemnly, as if making an oath. He reaches for his brother, who only makes one short, perfunctory attempt to avoid his grasp. In the end he allows Thor's hand on the back of his neck, allows him to press their foreheads together. "Never", Thor repeats, so close to his brother that he can feel the slight hitch in his breath as he speaks.
For the first time, though, his touch does not serve to reassure Loki. Thor rubs his neck automatically.
"Do you even know why you adapted this gesture?"
Thor frowns; he does not, not really. It developed somehow when they were children, as a sign of affection that is reserved solely for his little brother. He attempted to do it with other people, but after Sif punched him in the face and his father turned utterly bewildered eyes on him, he grew more restrained with his physical displays of affection. At first these open rejections angered him, but eventually he found that it made the gesture much more special when he used it only on his brother. Someone had explained it to him like that anyway; perhaps their mother, or perhaps Loki himself.
In the end he fails to come up with an answer in time, and Loki shakes his head. "It does not matter", he declares, and takes a few steps backwards until Thor's hand slips off him. "Come on, we shouldn't stay out in the open like this. Let us find food and shelter."
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It is not that easy, of course. Thor was nearly killed by the Destroyer, stopped his brother from committing genocide, fell into the Void and came back out – and still he does not know why. Before he agrees to do anything he bombards Loki with questions. But as always, getting a straight answer from Loki is nigh impossible.
And yet his attempts to shut Thor down are uncharacteristically clumsy. Whenever Thor mentions their fight on the bridge, or their fall, or anything that might or might not have happened during his banishment, Loki is quick to change the topic or insult and scream at him if he insists. That, in return, causes Thor's anger to flare, which usually ends with them grappling on the floor.
It is not like their most recent battle. Loki resists when Thor tries to grab him and throw him down, but he does not retaliate. There is no fire in him. Overall, he is strangely subdued: If Thor does not initiate conversation, Loki seems content to follow him in silence.
It is not right, and nothing Thor does manages to get him genuinely riled up.
They settle in a small cave where they might build a fire without being impeded by the rain which never seems to end, no matter how much Thor tries to banish the clouds. They have not yet come across any plants, but there are animals on this realm that dwell underground: Upon entering their cave they are attacked by a pack of pale four-legged creatures that look like hairless moles and are as big as dogs. Thor manages to catch and strangle one with his bare hands before the others perform a hasty retreat. Loki merely watches him wrestle on the ground with an amused smile on his face, but fails to provide any assistance, which leaves Thor somewhat annoyed afterwards.
"I killed this, and I refuse to share", he explains as he prepares his catch. "If you wish to eat, go and hunt your own."
They end up sharing anyway because that is what they always do, and because Thor finds the sight of his gaunt, sickly-looking brother almost physically painful. They eat in silence.
At night they sit side by side at the entrance of their small abode and learn that this realm has two moons. The sky's constellations are not familiar to Thor.
"Do you know where we are?", he asks his little brother. "And can you get us out of here?"
Loki takes a while to come up with an answer. When he finally opens his mouth to speak, his words are far too simple to merit such intense deliberation.
"No."
"But in the past you have travelled between realms without relying on the Bifrost. You can do it again, can't you? You can take us both home."
"It is not that simple", Loki explains. "There are secret passages connecting all worlds, but one has to know where to look for them. In Asgard I had the palace's library, and other sources of information. Here, I have nothing."
Thor does not lose hope. He refuses to do so. "But you're smart. You will figure something out, won't you?"
His little brother favors him with a smile that is utterly patronizing, a smile that tells Thor he just said something completely foolish. He feels his face grow hot with embarrassment.
"Perhaps. With enough time I might be able to find a way, even if we have to travel the whole realm. It could take decades, centuries even."
They might as well wait for Asgard to construct a new Bifrost and send someone to come and collect them. Both options are equally unacceptable: Thor does not have decades. Jane does not have decades. He destroyed the Bifrost and with it all chances to keep his promise to her, but only now does he realize what he has lost. Only once did he feel her lips against his – and never again?
"Or", Loki adds, his expression strangely neutral. "We could just stay here."
"Stay here?", Thor repeats incredulously, prompting his brother to tell him he has misheard, or misunderstood somehow. "Impossible. We can't stay here."
It should be obvious. It is obvious. Asgard needs them, he saw it in his vision. And even if there was no immediate threat, their father is growing older and ever weaker: At least one of them has to return to succeed him, or their realm could dissolve into civil war.
"Think about it for a second", Loki prompts, impervious to Thor's internal reasoning. "A new realm just for us, a clean slate. The conditions on this realm suggest that intelligent life should be possible. We could find its dominant race and guide it, make it build a world according to our ideals. We could be kings in our own right, without the Allfather telling us how to do it."
"You're delusional", Thor insists. "This realm is not under Asgard's protection, and even if it was, we would have no right to interfere with its future like that. There is only one realm we were born to rule, and we must return there."
At first, Loki does not react to his words in any way. He looks at Thor with a scrutiny that makes him somewhat uncomfortable, almost as if his younger brother suspects a second meaning to be hidden in his words. If he does, he will not find it: Whereas Loki shrouds his thoughts in lies and half-truths, Thor is incapable of deceiving anyone with his words, least of all his brother.
"I can never return to Asgard."
Loki keeps his face blank as he says that. He does not break eye contact with Thor, silently encouraging to react in some kind.
"What makes you say that?"
Loki waves him off. He is composed when he answers, sounding completely casual. "You heard our king on the bridge. He might as well have cast me out."
"That is not what Father said, and you know it. You are twisting his words because you are miserable."
His brother chuckles softly. He rises to his feet so he can look down on Thor.
"You travelled to Jotunheim and were banished for your actions. I led the Jotun king into Asgard, then tried to eradicate his whole race, and attempted to murder Asgard's golden prince. What do you think will be my punishment?"
Thor stands up himself, and turns to face his brother fully. "At worst, you will be forced to undo the damage you have wrought, to repair the Bifrost as well as our relations with Jotunheim! Are you truly so petty that you would hide here simply so avoid facing the consequences of your actions?"
That is what Thor hopes, at least. In truth he also fears the repercussions their father has planned for them, but he knows he has to accept them either way. He hopes Odin will be too relieved to see both of his sons return to him to even think about punishing them, but he has misjudged the Allfather before.
Loki does not seem to share his careful optimism. His previous calm and levity vanish instantly, so fast that the sudden change leaves Thor confused.
"You have no right to lecture me! You don't even know what you're talking about!"
"Then explain it to me!", Thor demands for what has to be the hundredth time. He can't quite help himself: He grabs his brother's forearms and pushes him up against the cave wall, as if he could simply shake the answers out of him.
Perhaps his banishment failed to teach him humility, or how to keep his calm, but what he did learn is that nothing is ever as it seems, least of all his brother. "You have not been the same since I went to Midgard. I have to know what happened to change you so! Talk to me!"
Perhaps they should resume their fight after all. A battle is something Thor can handle, something he is familiar with. Maybe he can beat the answers out of his brother, can make him yield and admit that he is wrong. But that is impossible as long as Loki looks at him like that.
"How can I, after what you did?", he says softly, eyes averted in shame and partly hidden behind long black lashes, and Thor has to stop himself from embracing and comforting him. He will lose if he relents. Still, his grip softens, and before long his hands are softly caressing his brother's arms rather than holding him down.
"I did what was necessary to save you. And I deserve to know why it was necessary in the first place. I deserve to know why you attempted to take my life. And I deserve to know why my own brother denies our relation."
That last part has been a sore spot for years. During their childhood Thor observed that his brother shared no resemblance with either him or their parents. He had said as much, intending it to be a mere observation, but Loki hadn't taken it that way: His brother's words had sent him into a crying fit that had lasted for days, and they had not mentioned the topic again.
Other people had been less considerate. There had been whispers questioning the queen's fidelity, but whereas their mother mostly ignored the silent disapproval, Thor doubted Loki could do the same. His brother had always been sensitive – and so Thor had taken to calling him that in public, so there could never be any doubt: Brother. Now, for Loki to deny him this... It scares him for reasons he does not understand. He refuses to consider the implications. Whatever the truth is, he will deny it, always.
His younger brother meets his gaze once more, and for a second Thor is convinced he will provide the answers he seeks. But then he sneers, and the thunder god realizes that he lost his chance again, that he screwed this up somehow.
"Perhaps you do", he says with a cruel grin, "but I will tell you nothing." He laughs merrily as Thor throws him against the wall with a shout.
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They are both too exhausted for their fight to last very long.
Eventually they settle down on opposite sides of their cave, separated by the remains of their fire, refusing to speak to each other. Thor can't quite decide how he is supposed to sleep: The hard ground is unforgiving on his back, and the air is bitingly cold – should he use his cape as a pillow, or as a blanket? He tries both, but neither works for him.
He shifts restlessly for what feels like hours, while Loki lies utterly motionless in his own corner, facing away from him. This is not working.
Silently he rises and makes his way over to his brother, careful not to make a sound.
"What are you doing?", Loki asks as Thor wraps an arm around his shoulders to pull him close. His voice is not that of a man recently roused from sleep.
Thor has always been a very physical person, but even he knows that what he is doing right now may seem strange, especially considering how their last conversation ended. Still he does not let go.
"I think I've spent too much time in the Void", he explains after a short pause. "It feels weird when I'm not touching you even though you're right there."
Loki makes a displeased noise but chooses not to argue the point any further, which Thor interprets as permission to continue. He presses closer to his brother, shifts and maneuvers him to get more comfortable; Loki has opted to rest his head on his own cape, so Thor unfolds his and pulls it over the both of them. There is a brief struggle over who gets to put his head where, and who gets to monopolize which part of their short, makeshift blanket.
In the end they lie facing each other, with their legs loosely intertwined and Loki's head resting on Thor's chest. It is the same position they have always naturally assumed as children in their shared bed, and the thought leaves Thor feeling strangely wistful. Back then, Loki was used to falling asleep with the sound of Thor's heart beating close to his ear.
"Do you remember - ?", Thor begins, only to be quickly interrupted.
"Of course", his brother replies curtly, and his tone suggests that this is not a conversation he wishes to have tonight. Thor doesn't mind; he's tired and sleepy, and has no interest in further talking, either.
Instead he rests his hand on Loki's back and closes his eyes.
--------------------------------
They hardly speak to each other in the days that follow. Thor instructs Loki to look into ways to open a path to another realm, and Loki promises that he will, but the older brother has no way of knowing whether he actually does as he is told: To him, it just looks like Loki wanders the realm aimlessly during the day, and spends hours staring at the starry sky at night while Thor suffers through a restless sleep.
The thunder god keeps busy. He learns that even though the surface of this realm is devoid of life, it is by no means empty. He finds other, bigger caves that lead deeper into the mountain and underground, where a multitude of life forms can be found. There are bright mushrooms growing on the walls, which hiss and bite when Thor touches them. There is glowing white grass illuminating an otherwise dark cavern. There are the dog-moles he has encountered before, as well as earth worms that are as tall as houses – wingless bats, furry lizards with only two legs, and one strange creature that looks a fish but slithers across the ground like a snake. One time he thinks he spots a humanoid creature made from rock and sand, but it is gone before he can be entirely certain.
Thor fights any and all beasts he encounters. He feels useless and lost without Mjölnir, and has to prove to himself that he is not. But it is not as easy as he hoped it would be: He usually returns from his hunts with the bloody remains of his catch and at least one injury that requires his brother's attention. He fashions crude weapons from bones and sticks, a dagger and a spear, but throws them all out when Loki offers to lend him his knives with a smile and a pleased glint in his eyes.
Thor does not take him up on his offer, and yet one knife mysteriously finds its way into the small satchel he created from a dog-mole's hide and which he takes with him on his hunts. Neither of them comment on it, but Loki gets a particular generous share of Thor's catch on the day an earth worm nearly swallows him whole and he barely escapes by repeatedly plunging the knife into its blind eyes.
-------------------------
Still the rain does not end.
"Of course it doesn't", Loki explains. "It answers to your emotions, and it knows you are agitated. Calm yourself and it will stop."
It does not stop.
-----------------------
One day Thor encounters another rock creature. It emits a panicked shout when it realizes it has been spotted, and promptly reacts by fleeing back into the shadows, with Thor following closely behind. In the end it avoids capture again, but he is not sure how it managed that feat: He had cornered and forced it to retreat into a cave that had no second exit – by all means he should have encountered it there when he caught up. And yet the small cavern was empty.
"It is possible", Loki elaborates upon his return. "Your description suggests they are elemental creatures. Perhaps they have the ability to fuse with their native surroundings and obscure their presence, not unlike frost giants."
Thor raises his eyebrows in surprise – he did not know that was possible. His brother's smile is insultingly patronizing, and Thor has the instinctive urge to defend himself, but he has nothing intelligent to offer.
"The only thing I know about frost giants is that they usually die when I throw my hammer at their heads", he admits.
For once Loki does not tease him for his obvious ignorance. Instead he remains silent in contemplation. Thor wonders what is going through his head.
"I could educate you, if you like", his little brother offers, and Thor has to stop himself from jumping at the chance. This is the closest they have come to discussing their battle in weeks.
"Sure", Thor says, trying to sound casually. "Go ahead."
Loki settles down more comfortably beside him. With time their cave has become more habitable: They have pelts and furs, a well-dug fireplace and a decent supply of meat. There is not much wood to be found on this realm, nor anything that could make a decent substitute, so they usually light their fire with one of the pelts Thor has prepared. It stinks horribly and produces a lot of smoke – but Loki has developed the strange habit of sitting as close to the flames as possible without burning himself and staring into the fire for hours. He does that often enough that Thor's eyes have stopped watering whenever a fur is lit.
This is what they do right now: They sit on the tattered remains of their capes and look at the flames. Thor's arm is loosely draped around his little brother's shoulders – he just can't suppress this urge to touch, to ascertain himself that he is not alone. Every day he is surprised how accepting Loki is of this new habit.
"Their culture is not that different from Asgard's", Loki begins after a while. "They value strength and valor, and believe their warriors who die in battle will receive honor and glory in the afterlife. Officially their monarchy is hereditary, but due to historic reasons Jotunheim is much more susceptible to civil war than Asgard. Laufey should be succeeded by his son Helblindi, but he is still too young to have performed any impressive feats of bravery that would endear him to the people. There is a chance he will not be able to keep the throne."
Thor nods thoughtfully: He knows of Laufey's two sons, Helblindi and Byleistr. They say Helblindi is strong but stupid, whereas Byleistr is strong but cruel: Neither is suitable to becoming king.
"What about their mother? I have never heard anything about Jotunheim's queen."
Loki frowns slightly. "That would be Farbauti, but he is not a queen in the traditional sense."
Thor turns to watch his brother's profile. He has not missed that strange pronoun.
"There are, by design, no male or female Jotun. All frost giants are capable of both siring and bearing children: It is merely a question of social standing and negotiation to determine who assumes which role. However, all of them would be deeply insulted to be addressed as women. They see themselves as warriors first and foremost, and refuse that label that symbolizes weakness and submissiveness. Therefore we usually refer to them by male pronouns."
Thor has never seen a female frost giant, but he has always believed that was only due to the fact that Jotunn keep their women far away from the fighting, just like any sensible people. To think that he has battled creatures that may have birthed children... How does that even...
His mind wanders into strange and disturbing territory.
"Wait", he interjects. "Does that mean frost giants can fertilize themselves, like bilgesnipe?"
"What?" Loki flinches under his arm, utterly horrified by that thought. It is intensely gratifying – it has been years since Thor managed to catch Loki off guard like that. And with his words, even. "It's not like that! A bilgesnipe's reproductive system is fully internalized, whereas Jotunn possess both male and female genitalia. It may be possible, but the result would be..."
Loki falls silent all of a sudden, but Thor does not need him to continue. He knows of the deficiencies children created through an incestuous union are born with: It has to be even worse if there is no second party involved with the creation at all. The child would be sickly, and probably be born with a disability.
Thor is not sure why, but the mood turns slightly oppressive, and Loki does not continue his explanation. He has the strangest urge to say something funny or witty.
"So basically", he concludes, "Bilgesnipe are practical and frost giants are kinky?"
"Kinky?", Loki repeats. "Why Thor, do you perchance appreciate the male form more than I thought? What reason could one possibly have to desire a lover with both a cock and a cunt, I wonder?"
And once again Thor feels stupid, as the conversation has turned against him once more. He hates it when Loki does that. "Well, you know. With women, you can never be sure whether they are truly enjoying themselves. A man's body is more honest."
"Indeed", Loki acquiesces, but there is that certain glint in his eyes that tells Thor his brother is having fun. He has set himself up for another insult. "But what if one does not truly wish to know whether one's partner is satisfied? The answer might not be to one's liking. Is that the reason you only ever take women to your bed, Thor?"
"Don't be ridiculous. It's not that. Father would be scandalized if Heimdall told him he saw me laying with men. I do not wish to have that particular conversation with our parents."
Loki snickers, and Thor simply has to defend himself further. "It's not like it matters, anyway. Father has declared me his heir, so I must take a wife and sire children of my own. I cannot do that with a man."
"You could do it with someone who is both."
"Are you suggesting that I marry a frost giant?"
"I was actually considering a bilgesnipe, but the size difference might be a bit much for you."
There is no suitable response to that other than ruffling his brother's already disheveled hair (the dusty yet wet air is utterly unforgiving to a man who is accustomed to regular grooming) and punching his arm softly in amused anger. Loki responds with an soft laugh, and Thor grins back. This is how it should be, he thinks, and I can't believe I almost lost you.
"I am glad you're still alive, brother", he says, because he simply can't not say it. In a way it should have been obvious – and yet it has taken Thor centuries to learn how to appreciate his brother's presence. He has taken it for granted all those years, has never even considered a future in which Loki is not by his side. They simply belong together.
It is no accident that he has not called Loki by his name. It is what he is, and if anyone claimed otherwise, they would face Thor's wrath.
Loki looks at him oddly and shifts under his arm, slowly disentangling himself from his one-armed embrace. The last time Thor accidently called him brother, Loki punished him by banning him from their shared cave for a few days.
He holds on tighter, because he does not know what else he can do. Loki refuses to talk to him about his problems, so he has no way of knowing what to say, what Loki needs to hear. He simply refuses to let his brother go, holds him down, forces him to decide whether to just stay it his side or actually fight for his freedom. It is perhaps not the most effective tactic – Loki rarely does as he is told, and would resist him just to spite him – but it is the only one he knows.
"Tell me more about frost giants", he says, because it feels as if something needs to be said.
In the end Loki stays down, but his smile does not return.
----------------------
Thor sees himself and his brother battling dark elves on Midgard. He sees another battle there, two battles, in which they fight alongside the human heroes that have always been meant to become Thor's companions.
But he also sees Jane kissing another man, a mortal. And then he sees his mother, smiling beatifically at him, before looking down onto the small bundle in her arms. "Your heir", she says softly, handing him the child she holds. And when he slowly peels the fabric away, Thor sees that his child is blue.
He wakes up kicking and screaming, and gets an elbow into his face for that. Without thinking he lashes out in response. It takes him a few seconds to realize it is Loki who is trying to hold him down, that they are not under attack.
"Calm down, you fool", he hisses sharply. "It was just a dream."
But Thor shakes his head determinedly; he knows this feeling, he knows the difference.
He knows he just had another vision.