This precedes the Keeping the Stars Apart series of stories, which are Harry Potter / Thor / Avengers Crossovers, featuring a Loki / Hermione pairing. I have posted this as Thor only though, as there isn't even the tip of a pointy wizard's hat in it. Please see my profile for a full list of stories in this series.
This is a companion piece to "Touch" and looks into Thor's thoughts in the period between Loki's fall into the Void up to the beginning of "Keeping the Stars Apart" Please let me know what you think...
Thor had never been given to introspection
Until the day that he watched, horrified and helpless, as his stubborn, impossible, unfathomable, infuriating but still adored little brother looked calmly into his eyes and let go, plunging into the pitiless darkness of the void.
Lost to him for all the ages of eternity.
Until that day he had never taken too much time to ponder his faults, his motivations, and the impact they might have on others... how they might have pushed Loki to do the unthinkable.
"know your place brother"
Never taken the time to consider what he could have done – or not done to make things different.
He was my little brother, of course I love him - loved him. He knew that – didn't he?
In the weeks and months that followed, Thor discovered that the grieving process for an Aesir is the same as for any other sentient being in the Nine Realms.
Denial – Anger – Bargaining – Depression – Acceptance.
There were the early days when he pestered Heimdall endlessly, begging him to scan the realms within his vision for the merest hint that Loki may still be alive. When he begged his mother, already grieving herself to use her gift – to search for him. As though she was not already spending every sleepless night doing the very same thing... as though the idea that Loki might actually be dead wasn't as agonising – as impossible - for her as it was for him.
When the truth finally hit him like a blow from Mjolnir itself – he took refuge in rage.
Because rage hurts less doesn't it?
As the thunderclouds loomed across the sky and the lightening flickered through the glowering darkness he combed endlessly – fruitlessly – through his memory, searching for that key phrase, or look, that careless word that may have triggered Loki's behaviour
"Silver tongue turned to lead Loki?"
"Know your place brother"
"You were both born to be Kings" Really Father. How is that possible?
"No Loki"
"I don't trust him Thor. Magic is a woman's art – it isn't right..."
"No Loki"
"No Loki"
"Know your place brother..."
When he finally turned his back on Odin and the Warriors Three...
Words turning round and round in his head until the pain and the rage became too much to bear.
Flaying himself and others in frenzied, unreasonable and fruitless rage for a misplaced word or look. For a jest that may have gone awry
Too much - even for an Aesir, a warrior, a God.
When the rage faded to bewildered pain, he tried everything. Made sacrifices to the Norns. Tried to find Hela, to find Hel itself. Prayed. Begged. Pleaded...
Promised Mjolnir, his throne, even his immortality to have his little brother back.
I'll do better. I promise I'll do better... Please, let me have him back. Or at least let me speak to him. Just for a few minutes. There was so much I should have told him and now it's too late.
Too late...
Lightening and thunderclouds over the Golden City gave way to weeks of grey skies and a steady cold rain as understanding finally dawned.
Loki was gone. And the laughter and the magic in Thor's life had gone with him – to be replaced with the cold grey ghost of everything he never knew he valued.
o-o-0-o-o
Thor was plodding through acceptance – one heavy footstep at a time - when the news came from Midgard.
Loki was alive.
Alive – and causing mayhem. Not just mischief, but real trouble.
Odin was incandescent. Frigga ecstatic – because no matter what Loki was doing, alive was always better than dead.
And Thor. He fell right back into his bad habits.
After everything Thor had been through – Loki was alive, and up to his old tricks. As though nothing had happened.
He should have gone to him. Hugged him. Told him helovedhimandhewassorryandpleasecomehomeLokibecauseeverythingswrongwithoutyouandI'vemissedyoubrother...
Instead he burst into the Midgardian flying machine in a haze of rage, grabbed him by the throat and threw him down on a cold dark mountainside.
Asked of the Tesseract. As if he wouldn't have gladly given that glittering blue bauble to the highest bidder to make things right between them again
Allowed anger to replace pain and grief. Failed to see the the fear behind his brother's carefully constructed mask. Ignored the controlled way his brother – usually so graceful – was moving, speaking of injuries that were taking far too long to heal. Ignored the palor of his skin, how thin he was, the dark circles under his eyes, the sheen of perspiration across his skin.
The hectic febrile glitter of his sapphire blue eyes.
Blue?
Days later, when it was all over, Thor would berate himself over and over again.
Blue
What kind of brother am I?
Blue – Loki's eyes are green. Clear vivid green. The colour of leaves in midsummer, or the stones in the Vault.
Atop Stark Tower, Thor had seen reason. Made one final attempt to break through. But those eyes – still more blue than green, had held nothing but madness and death.
Later, when Thor had heard of Eric Selvig and the Hawk's eyes being a similar colour - when he watched over his brother that night, he had put it all together. Realised that Loki was not the puppet master, but the puppet.
When he heard Loki screaming and crying in his sleep.
Thanos - Save me Thor, please – I'm sorry. Please help me Brother...why do you not answer – you always answer. And the final broken whisper that also broke Thor's heart.
Please Thor - I'm so sorry brother. I understand...
How many times had he awoken with those very words ringing in his ears. He had always heard Loki when he called no matter where he was – but this time he had put it down to nightmares – to grief – to the Norns, or his conscience tormenting him
Thanos – the mad Titan – had been torturing his little brother into mindless insanity. While the one who should have protected him rested warm in his bed, deaf to his pleas.
o-o-0-o-o
Thor had taken Loki back to Asgard as instructed. By then the Avengers, and even Fury himself had understood that Loki had been as much a puppet as Selvig and the Hawk.
Why had he used the muzzle. He knew from past punishments that silencing Loki was far worse than depriving him of his liberty. The chains had bound his magic. There had been no need for him to use that hideous thing. While Loki's impassive mask had been firmly in place in public, Thor couldn't forget the flicker of fear in his eyes when he had strapped it on. When they had been alone.
Thor had explained it all to Odin. While his brother waited in a cell, Thor had patiently explained it all to their father in the privacy of his study.
Odin had listened and nodded. He had promised to spend the night considering all that Thor had said. All his pleas for justice, for leniency for the brother he thought he had lost.
Then he had sent Thor to Alfheim.
He had gone, happy, confident that Odin would be as just and merciful to Loki as he had always been to Thor.
Loki would be in the cells when he returned. Thor would be able to visit him. Talk to him. Put things right between them. Eventually, when his sentence was served, Loki could come back. He would finally understand that what made them brothers was not their blood, but the love, the bond between them.
But when he returned, nearly two weeks later, Loki was gone. And no one could - or would tell him what had happened.
Odin was warded in his study and would speak to no one. His mother was still on Vanaheim.
Desperate – filled with an unreasoning terror that he could neither explain or ignore, Thor had searched Asgard from top to bottom
To no avail. He had cajoled, raged, threatened. But the Asgardians were more afraid of their cold mad King than they were of his son.
Then finally, when Thor's hope was fading, he got a message – from a red haired former guard he had known all his life.
"I can tell you where he is my Lord."
In the cave – writhing in agony beneath the serpent's jaws.
His brother needed him. This time he would make things right between them. No matter what the cost.
I'm coming brother...