Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

For lack of anything better to do, Thor had finished out his journey home, following the conversation with Loki, feeling somehow both weary and tightly coiled at the same time.

He was unsurprised when, nearly four hours later, Loki had not returned to the home, though the revelation did little to ease the worry churning within his gut.

Loki often stayed out into the wee hours of the morning, when he was hell bent on avoiding any interaction with Thor— something he no doubt was, at present.

For him to stay out a bit later than was characteristic now, therefore, was hardly reason for concern.

What was more concerning, however, was the fact that the hour was nearing midnight, and New Asgard’s pub typically closed its doors around eleven o'clock in the evening.

True, Loki could have gone for a walk, Thor reasoned with himself as he glanced eagerly up from the book he held in one hand to the front door for what must have been the hundredth time in the past fifteen minutes.

Likely the last thing Loki wanted to see when he arrived home was Thor perched on the sofa, waiting up for him like some eager dog begging for attention.

Nevertheless, the continued absence caused Thor’s breaths to leave him with increasing rapidity, his throat feeling suddenly dry as he glanced again at the clock above the stovetop in the kitchen.

12:12 a.m.

Nearly three hours later than Loki’s typical bedtime, when he was in a particularly healthy routine. And, even if he was not, nearly an hour past when he might have normally returned from an elongated walk along the cliffside that bordered the village.

It helped him clear his mind, he had told Thor, when prompted.

Your mind better be damn clear by now. Thor thought, probably unkindly, though he didn’t necessarily think that he could be blamed for it.

Not when, at 12:30 a.m. Loki still had not arrived back at the house, and Thor was nearing the point of becoming frantic with worry.

His mind made up, he fished his mobile phone from his pocket, and hesitated only briefly before tapping out a quick message to his wayward brother.

Coming home soon?

There was a beat, following which Thor nearly startled out of his skin when a chime echoed from the darkened corner of the kitchen, which illuminated briefly in tandem with the sound.

Loki’s phone, which sat perched innocently on the counter beside the sink.

Damn. Thor thought. Then again, for good measure, Damn.

Neither he nor Loki had a spectacular track record, when it came to remembering to keep their mobile phones on them, even after several years of having owned the somewhat irritating devices.

However, they had both made an effort toward improving the habit, given the number of times Thor had found Loki in a state of obvious distress over not having been able to reach or find him.

And vice-versa.

Clearly, however, they needed to work on the exercise, and Thor cursed himself for not having noticed the phone’s presence sooner.

The palms of his now faintly trembling hands sweating significantly, now, Thor fumbled his own phone briefly, before switching gears and penning a brief message to the Valkyrie.

Have you seen Loki?

He received a reply almost immediately.

no. is he missing?

If possible, Thor felt his stomach drop further at the text, and found that he had to swallow back a sudden wave of nausea before replying.

Not sure yet. Going to look now.

He was already halfway out of his seat as he absently hit send, and had just managed to get into both his boots and coat before he felt his phone buzz with Val’s reply.

out looking too, will let you know if i see him

For a moment, Thor had to pause and rest a hand over his eye, gratefulness and anxiety both warring for dominance within his tight chest.

Then, he forced himself to exhale slowly, before he pocketed his phone and turned to exit the house into the inky darkness just outside.

He paid no mind as he was hit in the face almost at once with an icy blast of October wind, and instead stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he focussed on treading onward.

It was fine, he reminded himself firmly. Loki had disappeared for much longer, in the past, before turning back up completely well and unharmed, and eyeing Thor as if he was ridiculous for having been worried in the first place.

It was almost a well-familiar routine between the two of them, at this point.

Why then, did it feel as if everything within Thor was insisting that this time was different?

It was hardly a heartening thought, and Thor hastily pushed it aside in favor of remaining focused on the task at hand.

It was hardly a large village. Loki couldn’t have gotten that far.

—-

Nearly an hour later, and Thor felt as if he was just seconds from resorting to simply beginning to shout his brother’s name into every corner of New Asgard, as one last desperate attempt to locate him.

True to form, the pub had been long since closed when Thor had stopped by, and the council hall where he and Loki had last spoken similarly empty.

Which left a limited amount of options as to where else Loki might have wandered off to, given the hour, though Thor was loathe to admit it even to himself.

Regardless, he had forced himself to go through the motions and continue his rounds through the village, quiet now save for the occasional porch light casting its glow out into the streets.

And, while perhaps their town was not a large one - particularly compared to the former glory of Asgard itself - there were still a myriad of places one might have concealed themselves, should they have wished to remain in solitude.

The thought was not a comforting one, and Thor found himself wavering slightly beneath the force of it, his next exhale leaving him unsteadily as he cast his gaze halfheartedly around the corner of the village he had just stumbled into.

“Come on, Loki.” He muttered beneath his breath, “For once, stop being difficult just for the sake of it.”

Though the words were swept away mercilessly by the wind almost as soon as they were spoken, the silence they left in their wake was near stifling.

Which made the sound of something scuttling in the dark directly to Thor’s right stand out all the more.

Immediately, Thor stilled, his shoulders going rigid as he slowly turned toward the source of the sound.

He found himself facing the outskirts of the village nearing the tree line, where nothing sat but a small equipment shed, and…

All at once, Thor broke into a sprint, his heart hammering within his chest as he approached the building.

Or, more specifically, the familiar figure that was sat, slumped against the side of the shed, shrouded almost entirely in shadow.

“Loki!” Thor hissed as he skid to a clumsy stop, not bothering to assume that the silhouette could have belonged to anyone else, at this point. “What—“

The words all but died in his throat, then, as he got his first good look at his brother.

Beyond the tangled nest of dark curls and what remained of his well-worn, black winter jacket, Loki was nearly unrecognizable.

It wasn’t just the fact that his normally ivory pale features were mottled with bruises of varying shades, clustered particularly around one eye so badly it was nearly swollen shut. Nor was it the blood that was dribbling steadily from his lip and nose, staining his chin and teeth in a way that would have caused him to grimace in disgust, any other time.

No. As if this weren’t bad enough, what was perhaps worse was the wide eyed, vacant stare Loki wore, robbing him of almost all familiarity and personality beyond unmistakably raw, unfiltered terror.

Before he could stop the reaction, a wretched cry bubbled up and out of Thor’s chest, and he dropped to his knees beside his visibly trembling brother.

This close, he was able to see what he hoped was the full extent of the damage.

To his dismay, one of the sleeves of the once pristine down coat Loki had worn nearly every day since autumn had begun had been either torn or cut at the shoulder and removed entirely, revealing one of his pale arms to be littered with wounds, ranging from puffy bruising at the wrist, to various lacerations clearly inflicted with a sharp blade, and…

His eye narrowing slightly, Thor leaned forward to get a better view of the marks, only to immediately wish he had not, his stomach churning so violently he had to fight the urge to turn and retch into the grass below.

Burn marks. What little of the skin of Loki’s arm that had not been bruised or cut in some way was adorned with a series of bright red, already blistering burn marks.

A painful endurance for anyone, certainly. But for one of Loki’s particular heritage…

Thor sucked in a sharp breath, and swallowed back a convulsive gag as the reality of the situation caught up with him.

Someone had attacked his brother, that much was obvious. Someone who was likely aware of just how susceptible he would have been to certain wounds, and who had used that knowledge against him without hesitation.

Someone, Thor knew, who held a grudge against either he himself or Loki, and who had been angry enough to act upon it.

The one thing that remained unclear, however, was exactly how it had reached this point. Why Loki had allowed such damage to be done to his person, seemingly without retaliation.

Why he hadn’t fought back.

The outstanding question brought with it another wave of sickness, though Thor forced it aside in favor of addressing the situation at hand.

He would have more time later, after all, to consider the implications behind that particular reality.

“Loki,” he whispered in a voice that trembled so badly the single word was almost lost beneath it. “Hey. You’re okay.”

He forced a small smile, though it did little beyond causing a stray tear to streak down his face.

Loki didn’t react to the words, nor to Thor’s presence, though this in itself wasn’t surprising.

He rarely did, after all, when he was like…

Well, this.

And though it had been some time since Thor had seen his brother so badly shaken, he found himself falling into the familiar routine of slowly coaxing him back to the present moment almost automatically.

“Loki.” He repeated lowly. “Can you look at me?”

Nothing. Thor took the moment to note just how badly his brother was trembling, the intensity of the movement so fierce his teeth chattered together audibly, and his curls bounced around his face.

His gaze remained unfocused, trained somewhere off in the middle distance, though Thor thought he might have seen just a glimmer of recognition behind the eye that was less damaged, at the words.

A small but hopeful sign.

“That’s okay.” Thor reassured, and shifted so that he was sat more comfortably on his haunches. “Take your time. Just breathe.”

Loki’s breaths, ragged and panicked as they were, stuttered a little at that, which told Thor that his voice was at least being heard, whether or not it was recognized for what it was.

“You’re home.” Thor continued in the same, almost crooning tone he always did, when imparting the mantra. “On Midgard, in New Asgard. You’re safe here.”

It felt more like a lie than anything, all things considered, though he felt it still necessary to say, anyway.

“You’re safe.” He repeated, his heart constricting when Loki’s next breath hiccuped audibly. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe.”

Finally, after what must have been another several minutes repeating similar phrases in soothing tones, finally Loki seemed to stir, his head jerking weakly toward Thor as if seeking out the source of the words, jaw quivering minutely.

“That’s it!” Thor cheered on as quietly as he could manage, a sunny grin breaking out onto his face in spite of himself. “Good job, Loki. Can you hear me?”

“Nn—“ For the first time since Thor had arrived at the scene, a small sound worked its way up from the back of Loki’s throat as he jerked again.

A significant effort, if the way Loki’s chest had begun to heave slightly was any indication.

“There we go.” Thor murmured. “Take your time.”

He would wait in the same spot all night, if he had to.

As if reading the thought for what it was, Loki moaned lowly, before he exhaled a small cough, and turned to meet Thor’s gaze wearily.

“Hi.” Thor greeted, somewhat stupidly, his cheeks feeling almost sore with the force of his grin.

“Th—Thor.” Loki’s voice cracked badly when he finally spoke, though the sound of it was so relieving, Thor nearly burst into tears on the spot. “What—“

He broke off, then, and glanced back down to survey his current state with a furrowed brow.

“You’re okay.” Thor reassured a little frantically, somewhat terrified that the assessment might result in another bout of panic. “We’re going to get you home and patched up. It’s all okay.”

“You…” Loki blinked somewhat sluggishly, before shifting with a small groan and meeting Thor’s eye, once again.

“Were you…Did you…”

He trailed off a little uncomfortably, though Thor was able to surmise the meaning behind the aborted words well enough.

Did you see?

“I wasn’t here.” He was quick to reply with a small shake of his head.

At the words, Loki relaxed visibly, and Thor wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about the reaction.

About the fact that Loki likely knew exactly who was to blame for this, and very clearly preferred that Thor himself did not.

It was, he reminded himself firmly, a problem he could consider later, when Loki was safely home, and his wounds tended to.

One step at a time.

“Do you feel up to heading home?” He inquired, rather than bring voice to the seemingly endless questions he could feel churning at the back of his mind.

Loki’s brow furrowed at the words, and his gaze skittered away, as if he had been faced with a particularly perplexing challenge that needed a good deal of thought to address.

Thor willed himself to wait the brief pause out patiently.

He knew from prior experience that it often took Loki a bit longer than was typical for questions to register completely, when he was caught in this somewhat fragile limbo between mindless panic and total coherence.

Which was why he tried to avoid them altogether, unless it became completely necessary.

Like now, as he was reluctant to move Loki without his total consent.

Something he was certain he would have to do, in order to get him home.

After another long moment, Loki jerked a small nod, and moved to bite fiercely down on his lip when it quivered almost imperceptibly following the movement.

Immediately, more blood spurted up at the pressure, and Thor tsked disapprovingly.

“Stop that.” He commanded gently, and reached forward to tap the pad of his index finger in a feather light touch against one of the less-bruised patches of his brother’s chin.

To his surprise, Loki did as bidden, and released his swollen lip with a huff of a breath.

He did not speak, however, which Thor took as a sign to continue working toward their goal of returning home.

“Alright,” he murmured, before leaning forward to wrap both hands loosely around Loki’s shoulders in preparation to help him stand.

To his horror, Loki immediately tensed beneath the touch, which was all the warning Thor received before he barked a sharp yell and began to struggle back against the hold.

“Sorry!” Thor jerked back, and released his hold as hastily as he dared without risking dropping his brother and harming him further. “I should have warned you! I’m sorry.”

It was not uncommon for Loki to be adverse to any unexpected touch, following such episodes, and Thor cursed himself for his own stupidity at having forgotten such a thing in the first place.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, for want of anything better to say, more than anything. “You’re safe. You’re okay.”

To his relief, Loki did not seem to be spiraling further, in spite of the slip up.

Rather, his eyes were blessedly clear when they met Thor’s again, if a bit sheepish.

“I—Sorry.” He echoed, and hunched his shoulders as he gestured a bit loosely with his good arm. “We can— It’s fine.”

“Can you stand?” Thor questioned, rather than dive headfirst back into action.

“Hm.” Loki did not appear particularly certain, though he nodded anyway.

“It’s fine.” He repeated and, seemingly unwilling to be caught unaware by any additional unexpected contact, reached out to grasp loosely at the sleeve of Thor’s jacket. “Just…Like this.”

Somehow, they managed to get Loki to his feet, though it felt like it took nothing short of a lifetime.

By the time they were both standing, Loki’s hands had begun to tremble badly where they were clutching at either of Thor’s arms, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the force of his ragged breaths.

Each exhale, Thor noted with some horror, had an almost rattling quality to it, which added yet another reason to the ever growing list of why they needed to get Loki somewhere safe and comfortable, as soon as possible.

“I’ve got you.” He murmured, when Loki wavered dangerously in place, briefly squeezing his eyes shut against what was likely a significant wave of dizziness with a low whine. “We’re okay.”

Somewhere in the distant forest past the tree line, the sound of something snapping loudly echoed to where they were standing, breaking the fragile quiet that had fallen over the two of them.

An animal, likely. Certainly not an unfamiliar sound in the village.

Nevertheless, Loki stiffened abruptly at the noise, his head jerking toward its source seemingly automatically.

“Let’s…” he exhaled a long, tremulous breath out his nose, and swallowed thickly before continuing, his eyes still trained on the horizon, “Let’s head back.”

It was all the encouragement Thor needed to get going, and he forced his own steps into a reasonable pace as he began to walk in order to allow Loki to keep up, eager though he was to be out of the dark and back in the relative safety of their home.

With each step, Loki grimaced, breathing heavily and holding one hand pressed against the side of his ribs, as if they pained him.

The other, he kept tangled tightly in the fabric of Thor’s jacket sleeve, and did not release his hold until they reached their destination.

—-

The minute the front door was shut behind them, Loki seemed to relax significantly, a sliver of confidence working its way back into his posture as Thor flicked the hall light on to illuminate the space.

Nevertheless, he remained close, watching carefully as Thor moved to double, then triple check the multiple locks they had bolted to their front door, all but the original having been installed at Loki’s quiet request less than a week after they had moved in.

That he lived with the literal God of Thunder seemed to mean little to him, as did the fact that he himself was a mage of considerable talent, who could have defended the both of them easily, in the unlikely event of a home invasion.

When it came to home security, Loki had been adamant, and Thor hadn’t been able to find it within himself to argue.

Now, Loki remained visibly weary, and allowed Thor to help him out of his now ruined jacket and boots without complaint, before being all but ushered into a seat at one of the chairs at their kitchen table.

Thor had briefly considered leading him to the living room sofa, though he had dismissed the idea almost as soon as it had occurred to him, knowing that the more comfortable seating arrangement might have lulled Loki into a doze, which was something Thor couldn’t risk until he knew the extent of his injuries.

“How are you feeling?” He inquired, once he was certain that Loki wasn’t at risk of falling out of his seat in the kitchen, and reached up to mop the worst of the blood from his brother’s face with the corner of his sleeve, his other hand coming to rest on one of Loki’s now only faintly trembling knees.

“Splendid.” Loki drawled, and moved as if to wriggle out from beneath Thor’s hold, only to still a moment later with a wince. “I could stand to take another stroll through the village, actually.”

Thor rolled his eye at the sarcasm, though in truth it was a welcome display of personality.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He deadpanned. “Though first we need to take a look at these, I think.”

Here, he gestured to the wounds littered along the length of Loki’s left arm, and ignored the uncomfortable glance he received in return in favor of pushing to his feet and striding into the dark of the kitchen in search of supplies.

“It’s hardly necessary.” Loki argued, though it was an almost laughably halfhearted attempt. “I can just—“

“Don’t start.” Thor interrupted as he fished their first aid kit from where it had been stashed beneath the sink. “Are you injured anywhere else?”

“I—“ Loki faltered, and glanced up to watch Thor’s return from beneath his furrowed brow before continuing, “Not as such…”

Thor sighed softly, and returned to Loki’s side to retake his position knelt on the cool tile floor beside the chair, before glancing up to level Loki with as stern a glare as he could muster.

“Loki…”

“Just some bruising.” Loki was quick to assure. “Around the— The ribs, mostly. Nothing like—“

Seemingly at an uncharacteristic loss as to how to continue, he bit his lip, and gestured a little lamely to indicate the wounds on his left arm without a word.

For a moment, Thor simply studied his brother’s face, seeking out even a sliver of untruth that might have been buried beneath his otherwise pinched expression.

When none was forthcoming, however, he huffed a bit before nodding, and moved to begin extracting the necessary items from the kit that now sat open on the floor at his side.

“You know,” he began, keeping his gaze trained carefully on the roll of bandages he was beginning to unwind, rather than turning to face Loki directly. “I’m going to have to ask.”

“I know.” Was Loki’s near toneless reply, though he offered no more.

Thor sighed again. “And you’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Silence. And, when Thor finally allowed himself to glance back up, he was met with little beyond Loki’s pointedly blank stare, which he held for as long as he was able, before dropping his own gaze and returning to the task at hand.

“Do any of these need stitches?” He questioned as he turned his attention to the lacerations on Loki’s arm, to start, several of which were still sluggishly leaking blood.

“I don’t think so.” Loki returned, confidently enough that Thor felt comfortable moving forward.

“This will sting.” He warned, and held the disinfectant spray he’d uncapped aloft for Loki’s inspection, before leaning forward to spritz it over the worst of the wounds.

He worked in silence for several minutes, the only sounds in the room either Loki’s occasional hiss of discomfort, or Thor’s own answering hum, intended to soothe.

It was only when the majority of the cuts had been bandaged appropriately that Thor paused, his throat suddenly tight as the fingers of his right hand hovered over the first of many of the raw, angry burn marks still unaccounted for.

“Loki.” He whispered, voice unexpectedly thick. “Are you…How—“

“A fireplace poker.” Loki spoke, his tone held pointedly detached. Then, as if parroting words already imparted, “To watch a Frost Giant burn.”

Both his tone and expression remained carefully blank, though Thor thought there was a flicker of something like recollection, there.

As if he were caught reliving a single, terrible memory.

“Fuck.” Thor swore, the word ripped seemingly from deep within his chest so forcefully Loki jolted slightly at the sound of it, as if coming abruptly back into himself from wherever it was he had been. “Loki—“

“It’s fine.” Loki shook his head swiftly. “Thor, it’s—“

“You cannot think me to be so unaffected as to let this go.” Thor cut in sharply, “This is— Loki. This is—“

“It’s not worth acting over.” Loki insisted. Then, when Thor simply continued to glare, his breaths leaving him sharply through his nose, “Thor. I’m honored. Truly, I am. But you cannot retaliate. You know you can’t.”

“Like hell I can’t!” Thor snapped. “Look at you!”

Loki flinched slightly, though whether it was a reaction to the sharp tone or the words themselves was unclear.

He did not, however, react beyond an almost entirely automatic jerk of his head, when Thor reached up to gently prod at the livid purple bruise around his swollen, bloodshot eye.

“I haven’t seen you with a black eye since we were tweens.” He whispered wretchedly.

To his surprise, something like amusement softened the edges of Loki’s expression at the words.

“If I recall correctly, brother.” He began, his tone somehow infinitely lighter than it had been, seconds before. “You were the one to blame for that black eye.”

Thor scoffed, though he could not deny the way his very soul seemed to brighten at the reminder of their shared childhood antics.

“And if you recall, brother.” He teased, “That black eye was only imparted in retaliation to a dagger between the ribs.”

A small, barely-there laugh escaped from between Loki’s lips, though it was a blessed sound, all the same.

“It was hardly a dagger.” He countered. “I had barely reached seven-hundred years old. More of a knife, really.”

“Is that supposed to mean that it hurt less?” Thor cried. “I bled for hours!”

“Please.” Loki scoffed. “You’re Asgardian. You heal practically the minute a wound is imparted.”

The words were a misstep, apparently, for the minute they were spoken both Thor and Loki himself fell silent, each briefly lost in their own private misery.

“Thor.” Loki began at length, his eyes unwavering as they tracked where Thor was beginning to dig a burn salve out from the depths of the first aid kit. “Listen to reason. There’s nothing you can do without further threatening New Asgard’s already fragile political landscape.”

You’re entering a season of political unrest. The Valkyrie’s words rose to the forefront of Thor’s mind, and not for the first time he cursed her and Loki’s shared perceptive nature.

Counterintuitive as it was to how he often wished to act or impart judgement.

“It’s hardly one worth protecting if I allow such transgressions to pass unchallenged.” Thor pointed out, only to pause, a generous dollop of the burn salve on his finger held just inches from Loki’s arm.

He met his brother’s troubled eyes, before pressing, “Are you ready?”

“Just do it.” Loki urged, and averted his gaze immediately, as if in preparation.

Not allowing the question to hang in the air another moment, Thor moved forward to do as bidden, his heart twisting when Loki inhaled sharply as he smeared the salve over the first blister, a low whimper escaping him a beat later.

“I’m sorry.” Thor whispered, and reached up to squeeze Loki’s opposite hand briefly before withdrawing his touch. “You’re okay.”

There was a brief silence, before Loki seemed to shake himself slightly, and spoke again.

“It’s not as large an issue as you make it out to be.” He countered, “Certainly not worth a retaliation against citizens of Asgard.”

Citizens of Asgard, Thor noted with little satisfaction. Meaning it had been someone they knew, or at least were acquainted with, that was to blame for the attack.

A fact that Thor had rationally been aware of, though the confirmation brought him little comfort.

“You are a member of the royal family.” Thor stated, rather than touching on the newfound revelation, for the time being. “That changes things.”

“That changes nothing.” Loki replied curtly.

“It changes everything!” Thor cried, unable to keep his tone from rising with the force of his frustration. “Does it mean nothing to you? You are the crown prince of Asgard, and you are my brother—“

“I’m not though, am I?” Loki’s voice was somehow both furious and painfully distraught, his expression even more so.

Beneath Thor’s hands, his arm tensed, as if he was fighting the urge to draw back from the contact entirely.

Then, he stilled, and seemed to make a concentrated effort toward inhaling a sharp, singular breath through his nose, his lids blinking rapidly over downturned eyes as he fought visibly to reign his emotions back into a more manageable state.

“Let’s be honest, Thor.” He spoke again, at length, the words held carefully cool and detached. “I stopped being something worth protecting a long time ago.”

Unable to quite quell the mingle disapproval and irritation he felt surging within his chest at the words, Thor growled lowly, and - ignoring Loki’s now somewhat alarmed expression - shifted to grasp at his brother’s forearm as firmly as he dared, careful to avoid the worst of the injuries there.

“I disagree.” He intoned lowly.

Before him, Loki frowned, a muscle in his jaw jumping visibly.

“Your duty is to your people.”

“And what good am I to them if I cannot even protect you? My own brother?” Thor demanded.

To his horror, he could feel a familiar heat beginning to prickle just behind his eye as he spoke, though he forced himself to swallow back the threat of tears in order to continue, “What kind of king does that make me?”

“A well respected one, I’d imagine.” Loki dismissed with a shrug of exaggerated indifference, though the gesture did not quite manage to mask the brief crease of pain Thor had seen flicker over his features. “One who understands the weight of his duty.”

“To hell with duty!” Thor argued.

There was a beat, before Loki leaned back slightly in his seat, and fixed Thor with a stern glare.

“You cannot risk a potential uprising over something like this.” He warned. “It’s not worth it.”

I’m not worth it. Were the words that went unspoken, though Thor heard them clearly, all the same.

Rather than allow himself to immediately argue the point, as he might have done normally, Thor paused, something clicking into place at the back of his mind as the statement truly began to register.

“Is that why you didn’t bother to defend yourself, tonight?” He inquired quietly, almost tentatively.

He was, after all, fully aware that the question might cause Loki to draw back into himself and refuse to reply entirely, were he not careful.

“Because it ‘wasn’t worth it’?”

Almost as if unable to quite reel in the reaction, Loki’s eyes widened a fraction, and pulled back and away from Thor by no more than half an inch.

“What are you talking about?” He finally questioned, the words held low and controlled.

Thor clicked his tongue disapprovingly, and moved forward to continue tending to the burns on Loki’s arm with decidedly gentle movements, pointedly ignoring the gaze he could feel practically boring a hole into the side of his head as he worked.

“You forget, brother, that I know you.” He began, “As…”

He trailed off for a moment, then, and frowned as he turned Loki’s thin forearm over in his hand, reaching up with the opposite to ghost his thumb along the edge of one of the older, nearly faded scars on the soft skin there, nearly hidden beneath the myriad of new wounds.

Loki’s breath stuttered audibly at the sudden shift, though Thor forced himself to refrain from reacting, for the time being.

“As unwilling as you often are to take care of yourself.” He continued, finally, almost absently, as he studied the pale mark, “I know you to be a capable fighter, and more than able to defend yourself.”

He finally did allow himself to glance upward, then, only to be met by an undeniably puzzled expression from Loki.

“And you would have done.” Thor added lowly. “Long before things had reached this point.”

He prodded gently, almost reproachfully, at the edge of one of the burns, eliciting a sharp gasp from Loki.

“Unless you believed there to be a reason for restraint.”

At this, Loki shook his head weakly, and his arm jerked again within Thor’s hold, though the effort was halfhearted, at best.

“I—“ he inhaled sharply, the sound of it damp and somewhat unsteady. “I don’t—“

“What I don’t understand,” Thor continued, as if Loki had not spoken at all, “is what’s changed.”

He felt more than saw Loki still, at that, ever perceptive and able to read the next step in almost any conversation, though he often feigned otherwise.

“Why you refused to act in retaliation tonight.” Thor pressed on, before Loki had the chance to protest. “When you lashed out against a man for far less, not a week ago.”

“That was different.” Loki finally spoke up, the words holding an inarguable warning edge.

“How?” Thor cried. “What was so different about it that you allowed— allowed this to transpire, with hardly a word of protest?”

He rose to his knees, then, and placed his free hand on Loki’s opposite wrist in an almost desperate grip.

“Help me to understand, Loki.”

He was close, so close to reaching the truth. He could sense it, as he often could when it came to challenging Loki’s frequently evasive moods.

Everything about the hesitation clinging to the edges of Loki’s expression now, the minute tremor running through his tautly held frame…

It all pointed to the fact, a distinct counter to Loki’s all but impassable expression.

Nevertheless, Thor knew that he’d pushed as far as he could without causing Loki to clam up and refuse to engage at all, for the time being.

The rest was up to Loki.

It was a testament to just how far the two of them had come - since Ragnarok, since the settling of New Asgard, and everything since - that Loki hadn’t already determined the conversation to be too much for him, and retreated entirely.

As it was, the minor trembling of his limbs had begun to increase in intensity as his gaze flitted uncertainly over Thor’s face, as if he were still heavily considering taking the out.

Then, miraculously, he spoke - albeit with no small amount of hesitation clinging to his tone.

“That— It wasn’t about me. The first time.”

Thor blinked, and shook his head slightly.

“What—“ he frowned. “Then why—“

“It wasn’t about me.” Loki reiterated. Slowly, as if Thor were a particularly stupid child, missing a particularly obvious point. “Because it was—“

He broke off for a moment, before turning slightly to study the far wall with a huff of a breath.

“It was you.” He finally informed, just as the silence was beginning to stretch on for so long Thor was beginning to wonder if he was going to continue, at all, or leave things there.

Not that the words did anything to clear the situation up, nor did they sate any of Thor’s gnawing curiosity.

“Me?” He repeated blankly, much to Loki’s obvious chagrin. “What—“

“That man— Jakobson. He was discussing you.” Loki cut in, disdain dripping from the words as he turned to face Thor with an equally furious expression.

It was clear, however, that neither emotion was directed at Thor himself.

“And questioning the validity of your rule. Or his imagined lack thereof.” Loki added with a small, irritable scoff.

Aware that he likely appeared less than competently intelligent at the moment, though unable to quite help the reaction, Thor shook his head in bewilderment yet again.

Because truly, there was no way…

“You acted— You attacked Jakobson…On my behalf?”

In spite of the situation, Thor could not help but allow a small amount of wonder to creep into his tone.

“I’d hardly call it an attack.” Loki dismissed, though the way he glanced away uncomfortably as he spoke told Thor all he needed to know.

“And yet you did it on my behalf.” He pressed, unwilling to be dissuaded.

Something Loki was seemingly able to pick up on, if the small frown suddenly tugging the corners of his mouth downward was anything to go by.

When he spoke, however, his tone was nowhere near as stern as Thor assumed he might have intended it to be.

“As I said.” Loki tilted his head slightly. “They were blatantly questioning your authority in a very open, very public space.”

He paused, then added, “In another time he would have been flogged for such an offense. I merely did what was necessary.”

The information, Thor knew, was concerning at best.

At worst, it was the early warning signs of activity that bordered on blatantly treasonous.

Nothing of the words, however, necessarily came as a surprise.

The once-great kingdom of Asgard had undergone a significant number of drastic changes in recent years, after all. All having taken place under Thor’s still relatively young rule, on top of everything.

Some degree of unrest was, therefore, to be expected.

And had been, to a certain extent.

To this level, however…

It would require action, no doubt, in order to nip the behaviors in the bud.

Of that inclination, Loki had not been mistaken.

Though, Thor considered, perhaps no action quite so drastic as that which had already been taken.

There was, inarguably, much to consider on the matter.

Particularly given this evening’s events, were they at all connected to the initial issue.

And, though he wished that it were otherwise, Thor was beginning to believe that there was very little chance of this not being the case.

Nevertheless, he forced his concern on the matter to the back of his mind for contemplation at a later date.

Ideally, a date wherein which Loki was not sitting before him, bruised and bloodied and very obviously still so uncomfortable it was almost painful to witness.

“You say you did what had to be done.” Thor ventured, when the silence had dragged on so long it began to grow almost awkward in its thickness. “Though I fail to see how that offense was more deserving of your wrath than what was ultimately an attempt on your life.”

Loki frowned sharply.

“Truly even you cannot be so obtuse.” He shook his head. “A threat - direct or not - was made to your authority. The very thing keeping the Asgardian people and this kingdom together. Surely you can understand the gravity of that.”

“And I will ask again.” Thor forged on immediately, following the reply, “How is that any less grave an error than that which was attempted upon the crown prince’s life?”

“I am not!” Loki snapped, a small bit of color returning to his cheeks beneath the bruising with the force of the declaration. “The crown prince! No attempt was made on anything of substantial value.”

“You speak of intentional blindness to the truth, yet you willingly refuse to address it yourself!” Thor retaliated hotly.

Then, he paused, and took a moment to really look at his brother.

The faint trembling still coursing through his form, and the way he had begun to hold himself stiffly, almost protectively, as if he would rather be anywhere else but here, having this conversation.

“Loki…” Thor whispered, his voice suddenly much more strained than it had been a moment ago. “Am I not your brother?”

All at once, Loki’s expression fell, before he glanced hastily away and began to blink several times in rapid succession.

Somehow, Thor felt suddenly as if he had accidentally struck a nerve that was far more sensitive than he had originally been anticipating, without fully realizing it.

“Thor.” Loki’s voice shook badly, when he spoke, though his expression was one of quiet warning when he turned to study Thor out of the corner of one eye.

“How can you not see,” Thor continued, unheeding, “that without you here, my authority— My rule…would mean nothing?”

He swallowed back the sudden tightness at the back of his throat, before reaching up with one hand to cup the side of Loki’s neck as gently as he could manage.

“That by threatening you,” he went on, when Loki’s eyes grew noticeably wide and damp at the contact, “they have threatened the one thing of highest value in all of New Asgard. The one thing I have sworn to protect above all others.”

Loki sucked in a sharp breath, at that, and leaned into Thor’s touch seemingly without thinking.

“It truly isn’t so bad.” He croaked, after a beat, much to Thor’s ire.

“Loki!” He chided, “Be reasonable. Look at yourself.”

Either taken aback by the sudden force of Thor’s tone, or simply too exhausted to muster an argument, Loki glanced down to do as bidden.

Almost immediately, his gaze caught on one of the more gruesome burn marks on the tender flesh of his inner forearm that Thor was still thumbing the pinched skin around, and the edges of his features paled to an almost chalky white.

“It’s—“ Loki swallowed thickly. “It’s of little consequence. I’ve had worse.”

Something within Thor’s chest twisted near violently, at that, and he found himself having to breathe through a sudden wave of nausea before he could reply.

This was one of those things, he knew, that they hadn’t yet talked about.

One of those things that Loki hadn’t talked about, either by outright refusal to address the topic, or omission born of strategic evasion.

One of those things they likely should talk about, sooner rather than later, if they ever wanted to truly heal.

Thor was aware, however, that now was not the time to bridge that particular gap, and he focussed his attention instead on navigating the conversation at hand as carefully as possible.

“I know.” He murmured, and began to run his thumb softly along the bruised skin of Loki’s jaw and just behind his ear as he spoke. “And I wish it weren’t so. You did not deserve it.”

Before him, Loki sucked in a sudden, sharp breath through his mouth, though his gaze remained pointedly downturned.

Then, he blinked, and Thor felt as if his heart was wrenched nearly from his chest as a single, crystalline tear landed on the forearm that was still held cradled in his grasp.

“Oh, Loki.” He whispered. “Just because you’ve become accustomed to pain doesn’t mean that you’re deserving of it. Please believe that.”

Almost immediately following the words, Loki barked a sharp sob, and opened his mouth as if to reply—

Only for the sound of someone or something pounding on their front door with undeniable impatience drew him up short.

Abruptly, the both of them stilled, before they both turned in tandem to face the source of the noise.

Thor felt more than saw Loki tense significantly at the intrusion, and he tightened his grip on his brother, in turn.

“Shh.” He soothed, when Loki’s breaths began to speed noticeably. “It’s alright.”

He waited until Loki calmed somewhat, before removing his hold and standing to face the next series of thuds that were rained down upon the surface of the door, shifting so that he was stood protectively between Loki and the noise almost without thinking.

“Thor…” Loki whispered, his tone high and tight.

“Highness!” The Valkyrie’s unmistakable voice rang out through the thick wood of the front door before Thor could reply. “You’d better have an update!”

Almost immediately, Thor exhaled an almost explosive breath in relief, and heard Loki do the same behind him.

“Val!” He cried, an almost hysterical surge of laughter bubbling up from within his chest before he could stop it. “Yes! I—“

Before he could finish the sentence, the front door gave a mighty crunch, before the locks there gave way and the Valkyrie all but barreled through, one hand latched tightly around the hilt of the sword she had seemingly haphazardly strapped to her hip.

“You’d better have a damn good explanation for this!” She cried, “I’ve been calling for hours. Did—“

Abruptly, she cut herself off, and Thor did not have to be watching to know that her gaze had found Loki.

Loki, who was sat ramrod straight in his chair, his expression visibly startled as he simply stared at the Valkyrie through one wide eye for one long, silent moment.

Then, a wash of green and gold glimmered over his frame, and the wounds previously adorning his skin disappeared, leaving him appearing as pristine and put together as he might have during any council meeting, including the neatly combed back curls and the sudden disinterested air he now held about him.

“Hey!” The Valkyrie cried, in tandem with Thor’s exasperated groan of, “Loki…”

For a moment, it seemed that Loki was not going to dignify the protests with a response, as he continued to simply study them coolly.

Then, he seemed to realize that the effort at composure was somewhat pointless, and sighed in something like defeat, though he did not bother to drop the glamour.

“The two of you are insufferable together.” He muttered, and reached up with one hand to rub his forehead wearily.

“What happened?” Val demanded, glancing rapidly between Thor and Loki as if she wasn’t quite sure who to direct the question to.

“Nothing you need concern yourself with.” Loki replied neatly, “A minor misunderstanding.”

“That didn’t look like a misunderstanding.” Val argued immediately, and shifted so that her hand was resting back on the handle of her sword. “Looked like someone asking for their ass to get kicked.”

Loki’s expression grew slightly alarmed at that, and he opened his mouth as if preparing to protest.

“Jakobson?” Val interrupted before he had the chance, the question now directed to Thor.

Behind him, Thor sensed more than saw Loki still dangerously, which he decided to take as a confirmation.

He offered Val one small, solemn nod, to which she immediately returned the gesture, her jaw visibly clenched.

“Rest up, Highness.” She called over Thor’s shoulder, after a beat.

For just a moment, her expression smoothed into something softer and more considering, her brow knitting slightly as she held Loki’s gaze.

Then, she nodded to herself before turning on one heel and stalking out of the house without another word.

As soon as she’d disappeared from sight, Loki exhaled an explosive sigh and, when Thor turned back to face him, was resting his face gingerly in one palm.

“She’s going to do something, isn’t she?” The words were hardly a question.

Thor chuckled lowly. “I’d imagine.”

In truth, he knew that he should have been more worried about the potential ramifications of what had just occurred.

When the Valkyrie’s ire was truly stoked, after all, she could be as dangerous as Loki, and nearly as ruthless.

Nevertheless, Thor also knew her to have a level head and shrewd judgment. Particularly when it came to the well-being of New Asgard.

She would retaliate, without a doubt, though Thor got the distinct feeling it would result in something more like an arrest, rather than an all out stabbing.

A fact he could not help but be somewhat disappointed by, though assumed was likely for the best, all the same.

Loki, for his part, was taking the news far better than Thor had been anticipating, opting to simply study the space the Valkyrie had inhabited moments ago with a small, contemplative frown, rather than arguing outright.

Thor realized with a small jolt that, in spite of his seeming lack of surprise, Loki was likely having difficulty processing the fact that someone - perhaps other than Thor himself - was prepared to take action in his defense.

That someone cared enough to do so.

The thought brought with it a mighty ache flaring to life within Thor’s chest, and he sighed before moving forward to stand closer to his brother’s side.

“She’d just as soon not see you hurting, either.” He reminded, if only because he felt as if it needed to be said.

“It’s foolish.” Loki argued, though the words held little conviction, and his voice came out suspiciously tight.

Oh, Loki.

“And yet you know as well as I that it would be impossible to stop her.” Thor replied with a small shrug.

At that, Loki rolled his eyes, and resumed his previous task of rubbing wearily at his face.

“As I said.” He muttered. “Insufferable.”

—-

It had taken Thor the better part of fifteen minutes to finish cleaning and dressing the remainder of Loki’s wounds, and another hour on top of that to coax his brother into a relaxed enough state to even consider the possibility of sleep, in spite of his obvious exhaustion and the way he had begun to flag visibly.

Even then, dawn was just beginning to creep in on the edge of the horizon by the time Loki finally succumbed to the pull of slumber, which had only been made possible by Thor remaining by his side all the while, sat directly between Loki’s makeshift bed on the living room sofa and the now basically useless front door.

The Valkyrie was going to owe them for the broken locks, he had considered with little humor.

Once he had been sure that Loki’s sleep was genuine, Thor had reached out to run his fingers gently through the nest of matted curls atop his brother’s head once, before hastily making his way to the kitchen to prepare a pot of coffee as silently as possible.

He was well on his way to finishing his second mug of the beverage, sat on the front porch of their home with Loki’s slumbering figure still well within sight through the window behind him, when the Valkyrie’s silhouette became visible striding into view in the middle distance.

Even from several yards away, the confidence of her gait was obvious, which was enough of a relief that Thor found himself relaxing back into his chair and taking another long, slow sip of his coffee.

“Majesty.” Val called when she was within earshot, and raised a hand in greeting.

Thor returned the wave hastily, before jerking one thumb over his shoulder, the other hand rising to his lips in a shushing gesture.

One glance over his shoulder confirmed that Loki had not so much as stirred at the noise, though Thor wasn’t willing to take any chances.

Val seemed to immediately understand the meaning behind the silent request, as her voice was considerably lower when she inquired, “You actually managed to get him to sleep?”

“Barely.” Thor replied, and smiled slightly when Val immediately moved to take her usual seat on the edge of the porch, her back against one of the support beams. “He was reluctant, to say the least.”

“Can’t say that I blame him.” The Valkyrie frowned consideringly. “Though he definitely looked like he needed it.”

“He did.” Thor agreed at once. “But he’s never been very good about acknowledging that.”

To put it mildly.

Val hummed, though she did not immediately reply, instead contenting herself to study the front door quietly, as if deep in thought.

Thor took the moment to note that she had changed out of her sleep clothes, and had removed the sword from her hip, at some point.

The reminder of the evening’s events brought a frown to his face, as he considered how best to broach the topic that would need to be addressed, preferably sooner rather than later.

Luckily, the Valkyrie spoke before he needed to do so.

“There were three of them.” She informed briskly, suddenly all business. “Jakobson, Hofferson, and Johanson.”

Thor blinked, taking a moment to take the information in.

Of Jakobson’s involvement, he had had no doubt, Val’s words only serving as a confirmation of what he had essentially already known.

The other two, however…

Thor recognized the names. Each had either been a part of Odin’s original council, or had at least been involved with it in some way.

All three had refused to rejoin the council when Thor had taken the throne.

“Jakobson fessed up almost as soon as he saw me.” Val was continuing, a small smirk quirking at the corner of her mouth at the memory. “And ratted the other two out quickly enough.”

Thor had no doubt that there had likely been a bit more threatening involved than the Valkyrie was letting on, though he chose not to press.

If that’s what it had taken to get answers, then so be it.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Thor replied. “Are they—“

“In the holding cells.” Val informed promptly. “Heimdall volunteered to keep an eye on them. Looked happy to do so, when I explained what had happened.”

Thor bit back a wince at the information, though he was mostly grateful.

He knew, however, that Loki would hardly be thrilled to hear that more parties than were absolutely necessary had been informed of what had occurred.

A problem for a later date, Thor decided, if it came to that.

“Good.” He nodded.

Then, he paused, unsure of exactly how to continue.

“Did they mention what happened?” He finally settled on, in spite of the discomfort churning within his gut at the line of conversation. “Or why?”

Val appeared briefly pensive, at that, though she recovered herself quickly enough.

“They’re radicalists, Thor.” She shrugged. “Or, I suppose traditionalists. They said as much. That they’re unhappy with the way things have turned out. I think that just finally boiled over into them taking action.”

She winced, then added, “Lackey’s little stunt the other day was probably the tipping point.”

Thor didn’t disagree.

“He said—“ he cleared his throat. “Loki said that they had been discussing me. Questioning the authority of the throne, and the like. That’s why he…” he trailed off, though he was certain that the point got across, either way.

Again, something Loki likely wouldn’t appreciate being shared, though Thor figured the necessity of imparting the information won out, in this case.

“That adds up.” Val tilted her head in agreement. “And in that case, I’m glad he took the punch. Asshole deserved it.”

Thor huffed, though his good humor was short-lived.

“I suppose we’ll have to deal with this.” He mused, before taking another sip of his now mostly cooled coffee, his gaze fixed pointedly on the cliffside before them.

“Suppose so.” The Valkyrie replied. “There’s likely more to the group than just the three. Shouldn’t take us long to track them all down.”

She glanced up at Thor, then, before her gaze flitted briefly back to the door to the house.

“I think it can wait a day, though.” She commented, finally. “Until things settle down, and he’s had a chance to, y’know. Recover.”

There was a beat, before she met Thor’s gaze again and added, so lowly he had to strain to hear her, “How is he? Really?”

“He—“ Thor broke off with a small sigh, and took a moment to glance back inside the house as he contemplated how best to continue.

Loki was, miraculously, still asleep, though Thor knew that the rest was born more of sheer exhaustion than anything else.

“Physically, he’s doing better.” He finally informed. “The healing will take some time, but he’ll get there.”

Val nodded, though the small furrow that had formed between her brows did not ease.

“And beyond that?” She prompted, at length.

Thor sighed again.

“He’s been better.” He shrugged. No need to hide the truth unnecessarily, when Val would no doubt sniff it out on her own, regardless. “He wouldn’t say as much, but I think he’s pretty shaken over the whole ordeal. I only—“

He faltered, and raised one hand to run it through his hair.

“He’ll get there.” He repeated, if only to convince himself of the words. “I only wish that I could do more to help.”

It sometimes felt as if he’d been repeating the phrase to himself for eons, though it didn’t make it any less true.

He had an entire village to lead, he knew. One that still very clearly needed the guidance, were it to survive its first decade of life.

Nevertheless, he would drop it all in an instant, if it guaranteed him even a chance at aiding in the process Loki’s healing.

And true, they had come a long way. Yet it still felt as if they had an even longer way to go, Thor considered morosely.

“I don’t know, Highness.” The Valkyrie’s words cut through the somewhat depressing train of thought.

She climbed to her feet, then, and paused to shoot Thor a small smile.

“I’d say you’re doing plenty to help.”

Something within Thor lightened slightly, at the words, and he found himself returning the smile without too much trouble.

“Your aid does not go unnoticed.” He reminded.

“Eh.” Val waved a hand dismissively. “I do what I can. He’s a shitheel, but he’s ours.”

Thor barked a somewhat surprised laugh, and was pleasantly surprised to find the joy that had accompanied the sound lingering even as the Valkyrie saluted a lazy farewell before striding back toward the village.

Suddenly, the day ahead, along with the trials it no doubt would hold, did not seem quite as unbearable as they had, moments before.

Chapter Text

An unidentifiable sound broke through the fragile silence of the house, jolting Thor out of his already restless slumber on the living room sofa, and leaving him panting for breath as he fought to recall the events of the previous day.

Loki had awoken around noon, about three hours following the Valkyrie’s departure, and spent a majority of the afternoon curled up on the sofa, alternating between studying the book in his lap and glancing up at the front door anxiously when so much as an unexpected gust of wind sounded from the other side.

He had relaxed minutely when Thor had informed him that Jakobson and the additional parties involved in his attack had been apprehended, though had still taken the time to scold Thor mildly for the action.

The way the tension around his eyes had softened into something almost childlike with the force of his relief, however, made enduring the mild verbal rebuke more than worth it.

It was apparently as much excitement as Loki was able to handle in one day at present, however. For it had hardly been a quarter past seven o’clock that evening that he had grown visibly weary, and excused himself to head to bed not five minutes later.

Thor’s attempt at suggesting dinner had been met with little more than a distasteful grimace, which was more or less consistent with how Loki typically behaved, after an upset.

Regardless, it had done little to ease the tension still lingering between Thor’s ribs over the entire ordeal.

Another issue added to the ever growing pile of those that would need to be addressed the following day, he had decided, and let the topic drop without too much of a fight.

Without the welcome distraction of cooking to occupy him, Thor had bid his brother good night, before making a small snack for himself and retiring to the living room for the evening.

Which was where he had remained, sparing only half his attention to the almost inaudible film he had turned on, if only in an attempt to fill the otherwise cloistering emptiness of the room.

The majority of his focus, however, he kept on listening carefully for any signs of distress coming from Loki’s room, likely as they were to occur that evening.

An effort that he had maintained until he himself had given in to the temptation of sleep, just before midnight.

He wasn’t sure what time it was when he awoke again, nor exactly what it was that had awoken him in the first place.

Nevertheless, he forced himself to still, and listened breathlessly for any further disturbances.

He didn’t have to wait long, for not a moment later a dull thud sounded from somewhere near the back of the house, followed almost immediately by the unmistakable sound of Loki crying out in his sleep.

Thor’s stomach sank, more disappointed than surprised at the development, and found himself already halfway down the hallway before he had fully registered his intent to move at all.

This close to Loki’s door, he could clearly make out his brother’s harsh breaths echoing in the room on the other side, and felt his heart twist in sympathy as he reached out to grant himself entry to the room.

Even with how nervous he had remained throughout the day, Thor was confident that Loki wouldn’t have locked the door between himself and Thor. Not tonight.

True enough, the knob beneath his hand turned without resistance, and Thor took only a moment to draw a deep, steadying breath in through his nose, before he pushed the door open and stepped into the darkened space beyond.

Immediately, his gaze was drawn to the pile of books on the ground beside Loki’s bookshelf in the corner— clearly the source of the noise, and likely knocked off via an uncontrolled burst of Loki’s seidr.

Which meant that the nightmare was likely a bad one.

Not allowing himself to dwell on the thought, Thor turned his attention to the bed.

Or, more specifically, where Loki was curled up into a tight ball atop the mattress, his back tucked tightly into the corner between the far wall and the headboard.

Even from where he was stood in the doorway, Thor was able to make out just how violently his brother was trembling, his shoulders shaking in time with the sharp, breathless sort of whimpers he was emitting.

Aware that even a single misstep might have result in a disastrous outburst, though confident enough in his abilities at this point, Thor strode into the room until he was stood about a foot away from the bed, at which point he fell into a near silent crouch on the carpet below.

Loki’s eyes, he was relieved to find, were pinched tightly shut, rather than wide and unseeing, meaning that they were dealing with a simple nightmare, rather than one of the vivid flashbacks that occasionally accosted Loki at such an hour.

A relief, though hardly a heartening sight, all the same.

“Loki.” Thor whispered, not allowing himself to reach out and comfort, just yet, though everything within him was practically demanding that he do so. “Hey. You’re okay.”

To his surprise, Loki seemed to still almost immediately at the words, a small furrow working its way into the sweat beaded skin between his brows.

“There you are.” Thor encouraged quietly, “Wake up, now. You’re safe. You’re at home.”

In the past, when things had gotten especially bad, the mere words hadn’t had anywhere near the desired effect, and Thor had been forced to simply sit by and watch as Loki suffered through the worst of the night terror on his own while nothing seemed to get through to him.

Now, however, they seemed to do the trick. After another few ragged breaths, Loki jolted slightly, before his eyes flew open and he fell back with a hoarse and panicked cry.

“It’s okay!” Thor leaned back and raised both his hands in what he hoped was a suitably placating gesture. “It’s just me. It’s just Thor.”

Loki thrashed again, his legs kicking out fruitlessly against the blankets that had tangled around them at some point.

Then, he stilled with a reedy exhale, before glancing up to meet Thor’s eye from behind a curtain of wayward dark curls.

“Thor.” He breathed, the word little more than a faint croak. “What…”

Before Thor could speak, Loki’s gaze drifted to the bandages still wrapped neatly around his left arm, and his nose crinkled in an almost puzzled expression.

Slowly, as if still half-asleep, he reached out with the opposite hand to prod tentatively at one of the bandages Thor had had to tape down over one of the deeper lacerations there, in order for it to remain firmly in place.

“Loki.” Thor murmured, the word half a warning.

One Loki did not seem to hear, or perhaps simply did not care to, for he simply continued to nudge curiously at the dressing on his arm for another long moment.

Then, before Thor could react, he growled lowly, and began to claw at the bandage in earnest.

“Loki!” Thor wasted no time in surging forward to wrap both arms around Loki’s shoulders, effectively pinning his arms to his sides.

“It’s fine!” He reminded a little breathlessly, when Loki jerked in an obvious attempt to reach the newly revealed wound.

To Thor’s horror, the cut itself had already began to leak fresh blood, what little healing it had had a chance to do likely entirely reversed, if not worsened.

“You’re okay!” Thor reassured as calmly as he could when Loki growled out another low, almost animalistic sound. “You’re here, safe at home. Not with them. You’re safe.”

As to which them he meant he wasn’t quite sure, though the words seemed to be the correct thing to say, either way.

Loki bucked within his grip again, once, before he exhaled what sounded like a breathless sob, and all but collapsed against Thor’s side, shoulders heaving.

“Shh.” Thor soothed automatically and, once he was certain Loki wasn’t going to attempt to get at his wounds again, hefted him a bit so that he was tucked more comfortably against his shoulder. “There you go. You’re okay.”

Loki sucked a sharp, tremulous breath in through his mouth, and gave a mighty shudder.

“Thor.” he muttered, his voice still slightly slurred with confusion.

“I’m here.” Thor was quick to reassure. “I’m here, Loki.”

There was a beat as Loki continued to breathe harshly, as if taking his time to mull the information over.

Almost absently, he reached up with one hand to ghost his fingers along the bruising around his eye, before pulling his hand away with a small hiss.

“Don’t.” Thor chided lowly.

With the hand that was not currently occupied running up and down the expanse of Loki’s outer arm as gently as possible, he reached up to pluck his brother’s hand from where it was still hovering over his face, and laced their fingers together before bringing both to rest over his own heart.

“It’s still bruised.” He reminded, “Give it time to heal.”

“I don’t—“ Loki shook his head slightly, his cheek rubbing softly against the fabric of Thor’s shirt at his collarbone. “I— I can’t—“

His breath hitched, and Thor did not have to look down to know that his eyes would be welling with tears.

Regardless of how many times he had helped Loki battle the confusion and emotions that typically followed a nightmare, Thor didn’t think that he would ever stop aching quite so fiercely when faced with the sight of his little brother so visibly distraught.

Rather than bring voice to these thoughts, however, he opted to remain silent, and focussed on drawing a long and steady breath in through his nose, holding briefly, then exhaling out his mouth.

A pattern Loki began to mimic automatically, much to Thor’s mingled delight and relief.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, and began to rock the two of them slightly in place without quite thinking about it. “Just breathe. You can rest now. I’ve got you.”

Loki hummed, the sound more coherent than almost anything else he’d uttered since Thor had entered the room.

He did not, however, move in preparation to pull himself away, as he often did as he calmed.

Rather, he merely shuffled a bit in order to burrow closer, the tip of his nose cold when it brushed the side of Thor’s neck as he settled more comfortably against him with a small sigh.

Thor bit back a chuckle, at that, though he allowed himself a fond grin in its place. “Rest now, brother.” he repeated quietly. “You’re safe.”

And, he silently vowed, if anyone else dared to threaten that again, they would have him to deal with personally.