Chapter Text
The fact of the matter was, it would have been all too easy to blame Loki. Predictable. Foreseeable, even.
For all of his anger, evasive nature, and the prideful walls he kept carefully in place in the name of protecting himself, Thor liked to think that he knew his brother. Knew his irritability and tendency toward tumultuous moods well enough to be well familiar with them, at this point. Enough so to predict them with relative accuracy, as well as identify a pattern, of sorts, between the situations that typically resulted from said moods.
Several months spent in close quarters together on a vessel not nearly large enough for the task of carrying what was left of a once-great kingdom to a new home on a completely foreign realm was enough to guarantee that.
Not to mention the several additional months it had taken to establish said home on said realm.
All this said and done, Thor had begun to feel more confident in his familiarity with his brother’s behavioral patterns than he had in a long while.
Since well before their now-famous altercation on the Rainbow Bridge, at the very least.
Which made the fact that his mind immediately turned to Loki the minute the Valkyrie stormed into the meeting hall with a declaration of, “Highness, there’s been an incident.” all the more shameful, in hindsight.
Unfounded, perhaps not so much. But he was trying to improve himself.
For everyone’s sake. Not the least of which, his and Loki’s own.
Unwilling to dwell on the fact when faced with Val’s uncharacteristically grim expression, however, Thor stood from his seat at the head of the hall’s long conference table, and offered a nod to the council members who remained seated, all of which were eyeing him warily, now.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Thor smiled thinly, before turning on one heel to hasten after the Valkyrie where she was already striding out of the hall.
“Val!” He called as soon as he stepped out into the cool air just outside the hall, and jogged forward a bit in order to catch up with his companion. “What do you mean, an incident?”
“What I said.” Val replied, her gaze remaining firmly ahead. “An incident.”
“Okay,” Thor frowned and shook his head, “And the nature of which is…”
“Look.” Abruptly, the Valkyrie halted her steps and turned to face him, hands moving to rest on her hips. “I’m gonna be honest. You’re not gonna like it, so I’m not sure if I should tell you or just let you see for yourself.”
Ah. Thor groaned softly, and reached up with one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.
Of course…
”It’s Loki,” he muttered, more rhetorically than anything, “isn’t it?”
He had brought this upon himself, truly, for even briefly daring to consider that anything even loosely involving his brother could be considered predictable.
He heard more than saw Val wince slightly, at the inquiry.
“Of a sorts.” She answered, vaguely. “Just…Maybe you’d better just come and see.”
A now well familiar headache began to pound at the pulse point of Thor’s temple, and he spared it an absent rub of his pointer and middle fingers before dropping his hand entirely and gesturing for Val to continue with a small sigh.
A welcome invitation, apparently, for not a beat passed before Val was turning to continue trekking further into the town, Thor following wearily at her heels.
It had been several months, he considered bleakly, since he had been called on to assist with an incident that Loki had had a hand in.
Sure, they had happened regardless, though the more recent occurrences had mainly been born of a mixture of mischief and boredom, rather than outright ill intent, meaning that each had been tame enough not to require Thor’s assistance to help rectify.
And true, a bored Loki was often a dangerous Loki, though even he knew better than to stir up Thor’s ire by causing irreparable harm to New Asgard or its people simply in an attempt to cure his own malaise.
Or so Thor had thought, right up until the Valkyrie led him into the heart of the town square where several individuals were gathered, almost all of them talking over each other in tones laced with undeniable hysteria.
Upon closer inspection, it became clear that the attention of inhabitants of the square was focussed intently upon one specific individual who was stood in the middle of the crowd, one hand cupping his nose and the other clutching his middle.
The individual, Thor noted, was a man by the name of Emil Jakobson, a well respected Asgardian probably around 500 years Thor’s elder.
They had dined together at the palace, in the past, and Jakobson had been one of the younger members of Odin’s council, for some time.
When they had established the new council, however, he had politely declined Thor’s invitation to join.
Beyond this, Thor found that he could remember very little about the man or his personal life.
Not that it seemed very relevant, at present.
“Alright,” Thor called, allowing his voice to reach a pitch both Loki and the Valkyrie not so subtly referred to as his ‘monarch tone’. “What’s happened?”
Immediately, the crowd stilled, several scuttling a few feet away when they realized the identity of their new company.
A reaction he might have reveled in, a few centuries before. Now, it only served to irritate him further.
Particularly when none present answered the inquiry right away, instead opting to drop their gazes to the cobblestone below.
A few went so far as to hasten away and out of the square entirely, much to Thor’s chagrin, though he did not stop them.
Anger, he knew, would do little to solve the situation at hand.
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Jakobson himself grunted, before staggering forward in a step so obviously pained that Thor was almost certain it was exaggerated.
“Why don’t you ask your false brother?” He spat, the words dripping with obvious disdain, and lowered his hand to reveal the blood that was still steadily dripping from his nose, as well as what appeared to be at least one missing tooth.
At the words, Thor stilled, his stomach sinking heavily beneath the weight of a myriad of emotions, though he noted bitterly that surprise was not one of them.
“Explain yourself.” He demanded lowly, when it seemed that Jakobson was not going to continue.
“Ah,” Rather than Jakobson himself, another voice cut through the silence, following which an older, smaller man stepped out of the crowd to pause at Jakobson’s side.
Erickson, Thor’s mind provided. An elder citizen, and a previous member of Odin’s council, as well.
“What Emil means, Your Highness, is that Prince Loki was here not ten minutes past. He, ehm—” Erickson faltered, and glanced briefly up at Thor’s no doubt stormy expression before continuing, “He passed our group, then turned to attack Emil himself, seemingly without cause.”
Damn. Thor thought morosely.
It was one thing if Loki was involved in an altercation with good cause. Wouldn’t have been unheard of, in fact.
It was another entirely, if he was simply lashing out at random citizens of Asgard. In broad daylight, at that.
None of it boded well, though Thor forced himself to refrain from assuming the worst, just yet.
“You’re certain it was Loki?” He pressed, aware of just how foolish the question sounded, but unwilling to drop the conversation at the claim alone.
“Aye,” Jakobson growled, then, his bloodied features twisting into a scowl. “It was him.”
He spat a mouthful of blood onto the street, before adding on a mutter, “The Jotun whore.”
Abruptly, the world around Thor seemed to dim, and he felt his pulse jolt with an almost sickening surge of anger.
“Take care how you speak.” He warned, before he could stop himself, hardly recognizing the sound of his own voice.
“Emil.” Erickson reproached, at the same time Thor distantly registered the Valkyrie’s hiss of, “Majesty.”
For a moment, only silence rang out, beyond Thor’s own audibly sharp and ragged breaths as he met Jakobson’s defiant gaze head on.
Seemingly taking notice of the weight of the conversation, several of the remaining members of the crowd took the opportunity to hasten out of the square and on their way, no doubt in search of a less strained environment.
Only a curious few remained, and Thor willed himself to remember that as he inhaled sharply through his nose in an attempt to calm his raging temper.
Making a scene will solve nothing. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Loki’s rang out at the back of his mind.
Hypocrite.
“Did he say anything?” Thor continued, when he was relatively certain he could speak again without his voice warbling beneath the force of his anger.
“Nothing.” Erickson cut in, seemingly before Jakobson could open his mouth again.
Not that the effort did any good, for Jakobson himself grunted in agreement before adding, “Near blind with rage. Beast-like.”
“I will warn you again to hold your tongue.” Thor snapped, his anger reaching a near boiling point when Jakobson did not so much as flinch in response to the warning tone.
He took one step forward then, allowing it to carry him far enough that his face was now less than a foot from Jakobson’s own.
This close, he was able to see that his initial assumption had been correct. Not one, but two of the man’s teeth had been knocked out, leaving a pair of unbecoming, gaping holes in their place.
Good. Thor thought with a twisted, vicious surge of satisfaction.
It was more than the man deserved.
As if somehow reading the thought, the corner of Jakobson’s lips pulled up into a sneer so forceful it was almost a snarl, further revealing the damage done to both his nose and teeth.
That he was angry was made evident enough by the expression, though evidently he was not stupid enough to speak again and risk sparking Thor’s ire further.
Pity.
“You have my sincere apologies.” Thor muttered, after allowing another beat of silence to pass, only allowing a sliver of genuine sincerity to slip into his tone.
If only to make up for the fact that, beyond the societal ramifications Loki’s actions would no doubt have, Thor himself was hardly experiencing any remorse over the altercation.
“I can assure you it won’t happen again.” He continued, at any rate.
Jakobson scowled.
“I would certainly hope that it does not.” He replied lowly.
The words, Thor noted with some irritation, were very obviously intended as a threat.
And not even a very well disguised one, at that.
“That’s what he said.” Val’s voice cut through the somewhat heavy silence, and she appeared at Thor’s elbow not a beat later. ”Or are you questioning the word of your king?”
She shifted to place one hand on her hip, then, in a gesture that might have very easily been taken as her reaching for a weapon that was hung there, had she actually any on her person.
Any that were visible, anyway.
Jakobson seemed to take the hint, in any case, and sniffed derisively before turning to stalk away, one hand already rising to cradle his nose pitifully again.
After a moment, the select few stragglers remaining in the square did the same, a few turning to cast a final sympathetic look in Thor’s direction as they did so.
Something that did little to settle Thor’s mood, though he fought to keep his expression neutral until the remainder of the gathering had dissipated, leaving just he and the Valkyrie alone in the square.
“Alright, Highness?” Val spoke before Thor even had the chance to fully exhale a breath of pure frustration.
The first of many to come, he was sure.
“Do I look alright?” He muttered, before turning to meet Val’s expression head on.
To his surprise - though perhaps it shouldn’t have been so - there was no judgment there, only pure concern she made no effort to mask.
“Probably better than you feel.” She grimaced. “Do you think…Y’know.”
“That he was telling the truth?” Thor finished for her, the question primarily rhetorical. “I see no reason why he would lie about the fact.”
“I can think of a few.” Val shrugged, “Though in all honesty…”
“You think he did it.”
In truth, Thor couldn’t necessarily say that he blamed her for the assumption. While often known for the reckless bordering on foolhardy behavior, the Asgardians were not by nature an angry people. Violent, on occasion, though such behavior was typically not without justifiable cause, or at the very least precursored by a few hearty tankards of mead.
Senseless acts of violence with seemingly no prompt were less common, as it were.
Loki, on the other hand…
He was unpredictable at best, Thor would concede. Had also displayed tendencies toward releasing some of his pent up emotions through the outlet of anger, in the past, which often did result in seemingly innocent and unlucky bystanders taking the brunt of said anger.
It had been quite some time, however, since any occurrences of a similar nature had transpired.
Rather, had Thor been asked even that morning, he would have been happy to report that Loki was adjusting to the simple - to the point of often bordering into what could arguably be described as monotonous - lifestyle of New Asgard remarkably well.
It had been years, after all, since they had settled. Though with Loki, that often meant very little.
Especially considering the afternoon’s evolving events.
“I don’t know what to think.” Val admitted with near-startling readiness. “I don’t want to think that he did it, at all.”
She paused, and made a vaguely nauseated face before adding, “That sounds way too close to the Loki I met on Sakaar for comfort.”
Thor frowned.
“Did he…”
“Not so much.” Val was quick to reassure. “He knew better than to lash out, if he wanted to stay in the Grandmaster’s good books. But he was…jumpy. Always poised like he was ready to strike, if the situation had called for it.”
“That sounds like him.” Thor agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly.
He didn’t particularly like to reminisce on any of their time on Sakaar, but any reference to what Loki had gotten up to during his time on the planet was distinctly uncomfortable.
Particularly given the spotty, abridged recounting of said time Loki had provided him with, when prompted, following which he had avoided bringing up the whole affair at all, unless absolutely necessary.
“He’s been better, though.” The Valkyrie was continuing, “Less antsy. Especially recently.”
“I know.” Thor agreed morosely, which was the truth.
In the past several months, Loki had seemed more at ease and comfortable with both himself and his surroundings than Thor could remember having seen him for a long while.
Even before the Rainbow Bridge.
Which made the potential of a slip-up in that progress occurring now all the more disheartening.
Not the least of which for Loki, whose recent, more amiable moods had brought Thor so much joy he had half-feared he might burst with it.
“If he did do it, though, I can’t say that I’d blame him.” Val shrugged again, and glanced away with exaggerated nonchalance. “Something tells me I’d start feeling a little more inclined toward violence too, if I spent too much time with Jakobson.”
Thor snorted, though it was with little humor.
Particularly when he realized what his next step needed to be.
“I suppose I should go talk to him.” He sighed, already turning in the direction of where his and Loki’s shared home sat on the outskirts of the village.
Immediately, he felt Val brighten, and she fell into step beside him without missing a beat.
“Good luck.” She snarked, “I don’t envy you.”
”You sure you don’t want to take my place?” Thor turned to shoot Val a small smirk, and nearly laughed out loud when her features took on a decidedly pained edge.
“I think I’m better suited sticking to the sidelines for this one.”
“Even if I commanded it?” Thor inquired, “Or would you question the word of your—“
“Alright, shut up.” Val rolled her eyes and dug her elbow into his side, the corner of her mouth quirking up slightly when he chuckled lowly.
Then, she seemed to sober, before turning to glance up at Thor, a small furrow between her brows.
“You’ll keep me updated.” She requested, though the words were hardly a question.
Thor nodded anyway.
“I will.”
“And if he didn’t do it.” Val pressed, “If that fucker was lying—“
“You’ll be the first to know.” Thor promised, his heart warming slightly as it always did when someone showed genuine care for Loki’s well-being.
It wasn’t as easy for everyone, after all, as it was for him. This he knew well.
Some of the tension bled out of Val’s shoulders, at the reassurance, and she nodded before slowing her steps.
“Well,” she gestured ahead. “Think I’ll leave you here.”
“Coward.” Thor teased, to which he was rewarded a sunny grin.
“See you, Your Majesty!” The Valkyrie called, waving one hand in farewell as she turned on one heel to begin trekking in the opposite direction.
Leaving Thor alone to exhale another sigh, before reaching up to run one hand wearily over his face.
“Loki…” he murmured as he turned back in the direction of his house, exhaustion making his feet feel as if they weighed about fifty pounds each.
“You’d better have a good reason for this.”
—-
Once Thor finally reached the front porch of his house, he took a moment to simply breathe, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the wooden frame of the front door, his hand hovering over the knob.
Rationally, he knew that there were only two likely options for what he would find on the other side of the door.
Option A) Loki on the sofa or at the kitchen table with a mug of tea, flipping very casually through paperwork and pretending like nothing had happened at all.
Or, Option B) The house completely empty, Loki having decided to avoid Thor until either the issue had blown over, or until he was left with no other option.
Which was why, when Thor finally managed to muster the energy to swing the front door open and enter the house, he found himself staggering to a halt almost as soon as he had crossed the threshold, his mouth falling into a stunned gape unbidden as he took in the scene before him.
Or, more specifically, where Loki was standing in the corner of the kitchen, one hand halfway into the freezer and the other tucked closely to his side.
Immediately, Thor felt his stomach swoop in concern as his gaze narrowed in on the knuckles of Loki’s left hand, which were already colored a blotchy reddish-blue, and swelling visibly.
“Thor.” Loki spoke before Thor could quite manage to do so himself, his tone low and void of any identifiable emotion beyond perhaps surprise.
And, if the wide and somewhat stunned expression Thor was met with when he finally glanced up wasn’t enough to confirm the fact, as well as eliminate any lingering doubt Thor might have felt about the reality of the situation, Loki’s next words were.
”This isn’t what it looks like.”
Like he was a child who had been caught directly in the middle of engaging in an act he had been expressly forbidden to partake in.
Rather than express any of this, however, Thor was unable to keep his gaze from dropping back to the bruises on Loki’s knuckles, his mouth gaping open in a fashion Loki might have berated him for, on any other occasion.
“You hit him?” He blurted incredulously, a moment later, in spite of his original intentions to address the situation at hand with nothing less than rational level-headedness and maturity.
For whatever reason, he had anticipated that - were Loki actually guilty of the act - the wounds Jakobson had been sporting had been inflicted by the use of brute force via Loki’s seidr.
It had always been Loki’s preferred method of inflicting pain, after all, as well as dealing with those he considered to be a nuisance.
He was a capable fighter, certainly, though had ever hated getting his hands dirty if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.
That he had broken that unspoken rule now, and seemingly without prompt…
It didn’t bode well.
Ever intent upon muddying what might have otherwise been a straightforward conversation, Loki blinked, his features shifting into a mild frown.
“What?”
A Loki Classic diversion tactic when he knew that anger or outright hostility wouldn’t be sufficient, and one that set Thor’s teeth on edge, seeing it now.
He forced himself to refrain from calling Loki out on the behavior outright, however, knowing that that specific course of action would lead them nowhere.
Instead, he drew in a deep breath through his nose, and mentally counted up to four before releasing it.
“And what does it look like, Loki?” He pressed, when he felt relatively collected enough to do so, and raised one hand to rub at his temple again.
Meaning that he felt, more than saw, Loki still at the question.
When he spoke, however, his tone was held carefully cool and detached.
“What are you talking about?”
Thor swallowed back the sigh of exasperation he could feel building within his chest, at the words.
Like running in circles…
“You mentioned that this…” Thor gestured between the two of them with one hand. “Isn’t what it looks like. What does it look like then, Loki?”
He was well aware of the somewhat condescending nature of the words, and knew that there was a significant chance that Loki might bristle at the sound of them, and refuse to cooperate at all.
Sometimes, however, it just seemed to be the quickest way to get Loki to admit to whatever truth he was concealing.
Particularly on the rare occasions he was caught unaware, and therefore left scrambling to reassemble the impassable mask he normally hid behind.
“I—“ Loki faltered uncharacteristically, and glanced briefly between the still open freezer, the bruises on his hand, and Thor himself before continuing, “Well…I was rather expecting you might tell me.”
Thor did allow himself the small pleasure of a small sigh, then, though it ultimately did little to help alleviate his frustration.
“Loki…” he began, when it seemed that his brother intended to leave the declaration at that. “That man, Jakobson—“
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar.” Loki interrupted smoothly, his gaze already averted as he turned back to the freezer and subtly fished something out from its depths before placing it delicately into the pocket of his jacket.
An ice pack, Thor summarized, and shot Loki a wry look in response.
“Really?” He deadpanned, rather than call Loki out on the poor attempt at misdirection. “Is that why he’s out bleeding in the middle of town, and you’re here nursing a bruised set of knuckles?”
“I’d hardly count that as a reason why,” Loki countered, “Though I’m also unsure what you’re getting at.”
To punctuate the point, he turned to shoot Thor a sharp grin, and tilted his bruised hand just-so.
Immediately, a wash of green shimmered over the limb, leaving the skin there completely flawless, with no sign of the previous wound.
It was only the way that Loki continued to hold his arm - a bit stiffly, and a bit closer to himself than was typical - that clued Thor into the fact that effort was merely a temporary glamour that had been settled over the limb, rather than an actual solve.
Loki had never been particularly interested in healing magic, after all.
“Besides,” Loki was continuing, “I don’t know what my lack of affiliation with this man has to do with the fact that he’s apparently out bleeding in the street like an animal plying for attention.”
The words were sharp, and Thor bit back a wince at the sound of them, though he knew better than to take them at face value.
“You believe there to be another assailant, then?” he questioned, “Even though Jakobson and another witness claim that you were the one to attack?”
Again, Loki stilled, before he turned to level Thor with a shrewd and calculating look.
“Convenient, isn’t it?” He hissed. “That they knew to accuse the one person in New Asgard you would believe to be guilty of such an act without a second thought?”
Another deflection, though this one carried with it what Thor thought might be an undercurrent of genuine hurt.
“Loki,” he warned, “Be reasonable.”
“I’m the one being unreasonable?” Loki snapped, his expression morphing into something outrightly indignant. “When you’ve just burst in, accusing me of an act you’ve yet to prove I had anything to do with in the first place?”
“How is this not proof!?” Thor demanded, and gestured to Loki’s hand.
It was the first time he’d come close to genuinely raising his voice during the conversation, and Loki seemed to take notice of the fact as well, for he skittered back a fraction of a step at the sound seemingly before he could stop the reaction.
Thor noted, with no small amount of dismay, that it was the first time that Loki had reacted as such to similar displays of temper in over a year.
Old habits, though certainly not welcome ones.
The thought in mind, Thor willed himself to take a deep breath before he continued, taking care to keep his voice at a more reasonable volume.
“I just want you to be honest with me, Loki.” The words felt like a familiar mantra, by now. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“If you’re so certain anything happened, perhaps you can answer that question for yourself.” Loki growled, his shoulders hunched and jaw clenched visibly.
He looked for all the world like a cornered animal ready to lash out at anyone or anything that came too close, and Thor’s chest ached suddenly at the sight of it.
Abruptly, Jakobson’s words, ‘Beast-like…’ rose to the forefront of his mind, and felt another surge of fury course through him at the reminder.
“Did he say something to you?” Thor attempted rather than continuing to pursue the current line of conversation.
To his surprise, Loki’s brow furrowed in something like genuine confusion, at the inquiry.
“What?” he shook his head. “No.”
And, while Thor couldn’t claim to boast the ability to read Loki’s lies for what they were each and every time, he did feel as if his ability in that arena had improved.
Meaning that he was able to guess with relative confidence, now, that Loki’s denial was the truth.
“Wha—“ Thor shook his head, his own brow furrowing. “Then why—“
“As I told you,” Loki interrupted quickly, seemingly regaining some sense of himself, and strode forward so that he was stood just a few feet from Thor himself. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be so hasty to judge, dear brother.”
With that, he skirted around Thor, and proceeded to head for the front door with long, determined strides.
It was only as he reached the door that Loki paused again, one hand outstretched and resting on the knob, though not quite turning it yet.
“Thor,” he murmured, “I can tell you with complete honesty that that man has never addressed me in his life.”
He paused, before tacking on, “And I believe we’re both better off for it.”
Before Thor could even think of how to formulate a reply to that, Loki let himself out, the front door shutting firmly behind him with decided force, leaving Thor with more questions than he had entered the house with only moments before.
Left alone as he was, Thor exhaled a long pent up weary breath into the silence, and raised both hands to scrub them over his face.
“Well that was productive.”
—-
Almost a week following the incident, Thor was no closer to the answers he had initially been seeking.
“He really hasn’t told you anything?” The Valkyrie asked from her seat opposite Thor, before taking a long swig from the stein she held clutched in her right hand.
They were currently sat in the little booth tucked into the corner of New Asgard’s pub, hidden enough that it effectively concealed those seated there from prying eyes, as well as ears.
Which was typically why it was Thor’s favorite spot in the establishment— somewhere for him to unwind in peace, without the near-constant knowledge that he was being watched or waited on by an entire kingdom.
Diminished though that kingdom may have been.
Now, however, Thor could not shake the feeling of being observed, regardless of the strategic placement of the booth. A feeling he had been valiantly attempting to ignore since he had walked into the pub an hour earlier, only to suddenly find himself on the receiving end of several wide-eyed and curious stares.
Stares that had unabashedly followed him to his seat, where he now hunched a little closer to the table, in preparation to answer the Valkyrie’s question.
“He’s hardly looking at me right now.” He replied dejectedly, “Much less talking. I don’t think I’ll have any luck revisiting the conversation.”
The words were, unfortunately, the truth. Following Thor’s somewhat disastrous attempt at broaching the topic of Jakobson’s attack, Loki had not so much as spoken a word to him beyond the occasional, clipped, “Morning.” when they happened to cross paths in preparation to leave the house for the day.
And even that, Loki was quite obviously doing his damndest to avoid, if at all possible. So much so that Thor had begun to wake up to the sound of his brother exiting the house just past dawn, most mornings.
Much to Thor’s dismay, as well as no small amount of irritation.
“You might have to.” Val argued with a frown, glanced up to cast her gaze briefly around the room, then added, “People are starting to talk.”
Somewhere at the back of his mind, Thor had already known the fact. Or suspected, at the very least.
At one time, news of one of Asgard’s princes getting into a bit of public trouble wouldn’t have been uncommon. Likely would have been met with a laugh and a toast to their good fortune, by a majority of the kingdom’s citizens.
It hadn’t been since before Ragnarok that such news had circulated, however. Thor himself had gone to great lengths to ensure that this remained the case.
Not to mention the fact that this…incident hardly counted as a “bit of trouble”.
So no, Thor wasn’t surprised by the fact that the people were talking, now. They were bored, and word travelled fast in a small village.
Regardless, he felt something sink within him, at the words.
“People always talk.” He brooded, in favor of acknowledging the issue head on, and moved to take a sip from his own stein.
“Be that as it may,” Val nodded her acquiescence. “This seems a bit more pressing that the usual ‘talk’, don’t you think?”
Thor blinked, and furrowed his brow.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Thor grimaced as he felt the toe of Val’s boot jab him none too gently in the shin beneath the table. “The people are worried about Loki. Worried that he might be…reverting, for lack of a better word. To old behaviors.”
She glanced warily up at Thor’s expression, only to scoff slightly and roll her eyes at whatever it was she found there.
A furious scowl, most likely.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She chided. “I’m not the one who started it. They’re talking about him, is all I’m saying. And not quietly, from what I’ve heard.”
“They would do well to remember that Loki is their prince.” Thor grumbled, though the heat behind the words was halfhearted, at best.
Particularly as he had long since feared that such suspicions might begin to crop up amongst the people, given Loki’s somewhat non-linear track record of loyalty to the kingdom, among other things.
He just hadn’t anticipated that it might take so long.
“Their prince with a colorful past.” Val pointed out, as if to drive the point home. “Look, I’m not saying that I agree with them. Necessarily.”
She pointedly ignored Thor’s answering frown, and continued, “But we’re about to have some serious problems if he’s suddenly just attacking people in the streets at whim.”
“I know.” Thor agreed, knowing that it was of little use to argue, at this point. “But…Somehow I get the feeling that there’s more to it than that.”
“I hope you’re right.” Val muttered grimly.
She paused to take another swig of her drink, this one so long the glass was nearly half empty when she placed it back onto the table, before leaning forward with a solemn expression.
“You’re entering a season of political unrest.” She spoke lowly, so much so Thor himself had to lean further forward to hear. “It was bound to happen, given the changes the kingdom’s undergone over the past few years, and now it’s here.”
Thor nodded, his brow furrowed, though opted to remain silent in favor of absorbing the words.
As sometimes unpredictable as she was, the Valkyrie’s counsel was almost always sound and worth heeding.
“If Loki continues to go around making enemies, that’s only gonna make it worse.” Val continued, after a moment. “People see how close the two of you are. How closely you work together. His enemies will consider you to be one, by default, if they don’t already. Especially if you continue to protect him. That’s something you can’t afford.”
She exhaled a small, humorless chuckle, then.
“Somewhere deep down, Lackey knows that. He’s just too emotionally invested to care.”
“And you’re not?” Thor managed to quip, in spite of the war of emotions raging within his chest.
“I didn’t just attack a man in broad daylight for no good reason.” Val muttered, her expression impassable.
Thor groaned at the reminder, and raised both hands to hide his face behind, briefly.
“Fair enough.” He admitted. “We’re lucky no one got stabbed.”
“Seriously.” Val agreed drily.
A heavy silence fell over the two of them momentarily, each no doubt envisioning just what the repercussions might have been, were that the case.
“I can’t just…” Thor spoke, at length, his stomach churning slightly as he considered his options. “Val, I can’t just do nothing. Especially if there’s a chance they might act on their words.”
“Do you think they will?” Val challenged, immediately.
Thor grimaced, though he already knew his answer.
“They’re Asgardians.” He answered, at length. “They’re hot-headed, and— And don’t always take the time to consider the consequences of their actions, before taking them.”
“Sounds like someone I know.” The Valkyrie grinned wolfishly.
Thor could not help but offer a small smile in return, though he assumed his was considerably weaker.
“Which one of us do you mean?” He teased, before the reality of the situation came crashing back down on him, and he felt himself sober once more.
Norns, this was a mess.
Seeming to sense the shift in the mood, Val frowned, and reached across the table to place one hand briefly on his forearm.
“Majesty,” she began, “I’m only gonna say this once. But, for what it’s worth, I want to protect him too.”
A small smile graced her features as she added, “Sometimes he just makes that really, really difficult.”
In spite of himself, Thor exhaled a sharp laugh.
“Tell me about it.” He sympathized, and ran one hand through his hair.
Shoulder-length again now, to his private joy.
“You do think he’s hiding something, though?” Val pressed, “Loki, I mean.”
“I—“ Thor hesitated, ignoring the Valkyrie’s somewhat piercing gaze in favor of carefully considering just how much he should share.
That Loki was hiding something about the entire affair was, unfortunately, undeniable. So much so that it was almost a non-issue, at this point.
What was more concerning, however, was the sudden avoidance— the distance Loki had suddenly decided was necessary to put between the two of them.
It had been some time since such a mood from Loki had cropped up, and Thor could not deny that it caused him no small amount of worry.
This, coupled with the uncharacteristically offensive attack against Jakobson…
It was a veritable recipe for disaster.
Of course, Thor had ever known Loki’s moods to be mercurial. This allegedly unprompted confrontation, however, was less characteristic of the Loki Thor had become accustomed to dealing with. Had grown to respect and value the company of, even.
No, this felt more familiar to the strange, unpredictable and almost volatile creature he had battled on Midgard, over a decade before.
The one that he had spirited away, not long after, and sentenced to a lifetime of isolation in the dungeons below Asgard.
The Loki that had seemed to be made up of nothing more than wide eyes, blank stares, and sharp grins with no substance.
Nothing hidden beneath…
The thought made Thor’s stomach turn uncomfortably again, both out of guilt as well as a willfully long since ignored fear that maybe that Loki wasn’t as distant a memory as he liked to believe.
That perhaps he had been waiting, dormant, for just the right circumstances to trigger him back into action.
“I don’t know.” Thor finally settled on as a response, and offered a weary shrug. “Though I worry that he’s— That he might be succumbing to one of his less favorable moods.”
Val, having been present on the Statesman, and therefore witness to more of Loki’s “less favorable” moods than either cared to remember, grimaced visibly at the suggestion.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” She muttered into her beer.
“I’ll drink to that.” Thor agreed wholeheartedly, and picked up his glass to tap it against the side of her’s, before downing his own ale in one go.
—-
Just under an hour following the conversation with the Valkyrie, Thor was beginning to wonder if they had somehow sealed their fated bad luck without realizing it.
He had almost made it home, he would lament later. Should have been there at least fifteen minutes prior, had he not stopped to converse with one of the newer members of his council, when they had flagged him down with a question.
The conversation had been brief, though by the time it had ended, the sun had begun to set, casting both Thor and his temporary companion in the shadow of the building they were stood beside.
Meaning that their presence had gone entirely unnoticed by the small group of individuals exiting the pub in Thor’s wake.
Looking back, Thor would not be able to recall if they had been amongst those who had surveyed his entry into the pub so unabashedly, earlier that evening.
Nevertheless, he doubted that he would ever forget their shared words as they were exiting the establishment.
“It’s not right.” One of them muttered in a tone that might have been conspiratorial, were it not obviously slurred with drink. “Acting as if it never even happened. Allowing him to continue walking about freely, with no consequence. He’s dangerous.”
“The king always did have a soft spot for him.” Another replied. “Nearer to a blind spot, if you ask me. Odin would have had him in the dungeons.”
“He did!” The first reminded, “Which is where he should have stayed, if you ask me. Locked up with other beasts alike, where he belonged.”
From where he was halfway in the middle of offering a parting wave to his companion, and turning to continue on his way home, Thor froze, his breath stilling in his lungs as the words registered.
For a brief moment, he thought that it might have been Jakobson and his apparent friend, Erickson, conversing so. A reality that, while disheartening, would hardly have been surprising, given the altercation several days before.
It was only when he turned fully to face the source of the words that Thor realized that they had been spoken by an entirely separate group, the names of which he could hardly recall.
Which meant that such nature of talk was not uncommon, he registered in dismay. Whether the recent incident had triggered it, or simply emboldened those who already held such beliefs to bring voice to their private thoughts remained to be seen.
Frankly, Thor didn’t particularly care.
Before he even managed to realize that he was moving, Thor was turning and striding toward the group, no longer able to hear the conversation past the blood pounding in his ears.
Which, as it turned out, hardly mattered, as the group fell silent the moment they caught sight of Thor’s approach and no-doubt stormy expression, each of their faces blanching visibly.
“What’s the meaning of this?” He demanded, not bothering to waste the energy keeping his voice level.
As it was, he was somewhat preoccupied with the effort of refraining from summoning an all out monsoon over their little gathering.
“Your Highness.” One of the men spoke, after a beat, his voice trembling audibly. “We—“
“You would speak of a member of the royal family so?” Thor cut in, disinterested in hearing the slew of excuses the man was no doubt preparing to spout.
“I—“ The man faltered, and cast a brief glance toward both his companions, as if silently asking for assistance.
A distant rumble of thunder filled the silence, though Thor hardly noticed it, nor did he take note of the wind that had begun to whip through the clearing.
“We meant no— no harm, Your Highness.” Another member of the group offered weakly.
“You would willingly choose to conceal the truth of your transgressions from your king?” Thor questioned. “On top of already having committed them?”
He was met with little more than a squeak from the man, which was somehow both satisfying and not nearly enough.
With a low growl, Thor took a step forward, his chest rising and falling heavily as he leveled the group before him with an unwavering glare.
“Men have been arrested and tried for treason for lesser words.” He warned, a flash of lightning illuminating the space behind him following on the heel of the words.
“You will keep my brother’s name out of your mouths.” He continued, when it was made clear that he was not going to receive a verbal reply to the threat. “Or, so help me, I will—“
“Thor!” A new voice rang out over the now howling wind, projecting clearly across the clearing and drawing all eyes to its source.
More specifically, where Loki was stood some several yards away, his expression stern in a way Thor had only seen a handful of times.
Before Thor could do anything more than blink in surprise, Loki was across the clearing and appearing at his side in a subtle shimmer of green light.
Beside them, the group of citizens startled visibly at the movement, so much so that Loki himself took notice and paused, a small furrow between his brows as he surveyed them not unlike one might a fly that had landed in their drink.
Then, his attention was back on Thor.
“Your Highness,” He greeted in a tone that might have been mistaken as respectful, had it been directed at anyone but Thor. “There’s an urgent matter that requires your attention.”
“What?” Abruptly, Thor felt a small amount of his previous fury dissipate, more out of bewilderment, than anything else.
In response, the wind began to mellow, leaving Loki’s hair curled and tangled, and the space between each party almost uncomfortably silent in its wake.
“I’m afraid it won’t wait.” Loki continued, seemingly undeterred, and raised a hand to gesture toward the council hall that was sat a few buildings away. “If you’ll follow me.”
If the fact that Loki was seemingly speaking to him again wasn’t enough to shock Thor into a momentary silence, the overt formality would have done it in an instant.
Unable to help himself, Thor glanced back at the group, rather than respond immediately, and felt a bit of his previous ire returning at the way they had begun to inch tentatively backward and away from the two, their gazes wary and trained solely on Loki.
“Thor.” When Loki spoke again, his tone was low, and held an unmistakable note of warning. “I really must insist.”
With a sigh, Thor forced himself to return his attention to his brother, and was immediately met with a deadpan expression that brooked no argument.
“Alright,” he agreed, unsurprised when his voice came out audibly gruff. “Lead the way.”
Seemingly taking this as a dismissal, the group of villagers shuffled slightly, before turning to stalk away in the opposite direction, a low murmur of conversation already rising up from between them.
Thor growled lowly, at that, though he hardly had time to dwell on the implications, for Loki had already begun to stride briskly away and toward the council hall with what Thor assumed might be an exasperated huff of breath.
“Loki!” Thor called, hastening to follow. “Brother, wait.”
It wasn’t until they reached the door to the hall that Loki finally slowed, and even then he did not bother turning to meet Thor’s eye.
“Loki.” Thor repeated. “What’s this about? I was—“
“Inside.” Loki interrupted, then moved to throw the door open with more force than was probably necessary, his jaw visibly clenched.
Thor hesitated, glancing briefly between his brother and the dark and empty interior of the hall, before exhaling a small sigh of defeat.
“As you wish.” He agreed, and strode forward before Loki could respond.
The door slammed shut behind him not a moment later, and he spun around to find Loki standing before it, both hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.
“What,” he began, the words low and deceptively controlled. “in the Nine do you think you’re doing?”
“What?” Thor faltered. “What are you talking about?”
“Are you truly so simple minded?” Loki shook his head slightly, as if not quite believing what he was hearing. “Thor. You cannot be seen threatening citizens of Asgard. Much less bringing a thunderstorm down on their heads. Have you any idea of what you might have just done? What the ramifications of your actions might be?”
He was working himself up into a rant, though this in itself was hardly unfamiliar territory.
What did give Thor pause, however, was the nature of the words.
“I can’t be seen…” he trailed off, and huffed a disbelieving laugh, completely void of any humor. “Do you hear yourself?”
“I am hardly their king!” Loki countered, seemingly unaware that he had essentially just confirmed his involvement in the incident that had started this entire mess in the first place.
Or perhaps he was simply past the point of caring.
“And is it not my duty as their king to defend Asgard’s people?” Thor insisted, a bit of his previous fury reigniting within his chest.
“Is that what you call ‘defending’?” Loki’s gestured back toward the door, his brow furrowed. “I don’t know if it escaped your attention Thor, but those people were cowering.”
I was not the sole reason for that. Thor was tempted to add, though he forced himself to refrain.
Because Loki didn’t know.
Oh Norns. Thor swallowed back the sudden and inexplicable urge to burst into a round of frustrated weeping.
Loki hadn’t heard.
He didn’t know…
“I— Loki…” he began, a little unsure of how he should continue.
Something in his tone must have given him away, however, for a moment later Loki’s expression shifted into one of mild trepidation.
Better to get it over with, then.
“Loki,” Thor repeated, and strode forward so that he was able to reach out and grasp loosely at Loki’s elbows with both hands.
“They were discussing you.”
Almost immediately, he felt Loki still within his hold, his fine brows drawing together as he seemed to fight to make sense of the words.
“What?” He muttered, finally. “Thor…”
“They were discussing you.” Thor repeated at once. “And I could not just stand by and do nothing. I couldn’t, Loki.” He insisted, when his brother eyed him a bit dubiously.
For a long moment, only silence followed the admission, stretching on so long Thor began to fear that he had upset Loki badly enough to send him spiraling to the point of becoming nonverbal.
It wouldn’t have been the first time.
Then, Loki shrugged, forcefully enough to effectively dislodge Thor’s hands from his arms.
“I see.” He replied, somewhat tonelessly. “I assume from your reaction that they were hardly singing my praises?”
The words were barely a question - not a genuine one, at any rate - though Thor still felt the need to reply to them, all the same.
“It…Wasn’t good.” He grimaced, unsure of just how much he should share, given the circumstances. “I believe they were made wary by your treatment of Jakobson.”
“No doubt fearful of a repeat performance.” Loki grinned, all sharpness and hollowness and completely wrong. “Or perhaps they’re worried that my true nature is finally rearing its head. They were taught to fear my kind, after all.”
Thor exhaled a forceful breath, feeling briefly as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
Loki had always been too perceptive for his own good.
“They—“ Thor found that he could not quite formulate any response that felt appropriate. “That’s not—“
“Regardless,” Loki cut in smoothly, his expression settling into something blessedly more neutral. “It doesn’t make a difference. It cannot happen again.”
“What are you talking about?” Thor replied incredulously. “Loki. The way they were talking…In the past, it would have been considered treasonous to discuss a member of the royal family so. I couldn’t let it stand.”
Something about Loki’s expression spasmed, at the words, though he schooled it too quickly to identify whatever emotion had briefly overtaken him.
“It doesn’t. matter.” Loki reiterated pointedly. “You cannot be seen addressing such matters so emotionally. If you refuse to establish a formal court, you must become comfortable letting some things slide.”
“I won’t!” Thor snapped. “Not concerning transgressions so unforgivable.”
“You must!” Loki repeated.
“How are you not more bothered by this?” The words burst out of Thor before he could quite manage to reel them back in. “It involved you! Your honor! I don’t understand why—“
“Because I’m used to it!” Loki all but exploded, his cheeks flushing a dark red in the way they only did when he was well and truly frustrated. “I see it, Thor! I hear it. Do not think me to be so oblivious as to not know what is said about me behind my back.”
He exhaled shakily, then, the sound of it echoing dimly in the heavy silence that had settled over the room.
“In truth,” he continued after a moment, a small and empty sort of smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I became used to it long before I became a monster.”
For a moment, it felt as if someone had scooped out Thor’s insides, leaving behind nothing but an empty, aching shell.
Empty, perhaps, beyond the urge to soothe his brother’s pain before he truly had the chance to feel it.
To make it go away.
“Loki…” he whispered, “I didn’t—“
“Regardless.” Loki interrupted, and waved one hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters!” Thor argued immediately, “If it hurt— If it’s hurting you, then it matters.”
“What matters,” Loki parroted, “Is that you ensure that this does not happen again.”
He paused, his gaze shifting briefly, uncomfortably away, before adding, “And set aside your personal feelings on the matter.”
“You know I can’t do that.” Thor replied, his stomach twisting at the very idea.
Almost as soon as the words were out, Loki rolled his eyes histrionically, and turned to face the door.
“Where are you going?” Thor questioned, his heart beginning to hammer in fear at the very idea of Loki venturing off on his own, at present.
Having heard what he had. Knowing what he knew.
He’d thought things had been getting better…
“I tire of your insistence upon ignorance.” Loki drawled. “And I need a drink.”
He paused, then tacked on, “Alone.” before opening the door and venturing out into the village.
Night had fallen, Thor noted absently, and it shrouded Loki’s figure well as he strode away from the hall, his gait appearing nothing short of confident, save for the somewhat hunched way he had begun to hold his shoulders.
As if anticipating a reprimand, or perhaps a challenge.
And, to Thor’s blatant discomfort, the possibility of either seemed all too likely, at the present moment.