They crashed onto a solid, unyielding stone cliff with such great force he was nearly thrown off the edge. The stars were veiled, it was pitch dark, and the icy winds were knives and daggers, tearing their ways through his flesh, cutting into his bones.
Yet, could matters such as the cold trouble a Jotun? No. What truly was stabbing right through Loki, threatening to break his well-cultivated mask, at that moment, was neither the chill nor the rain but a gazed that fell upon him. It was a pair of deep, pleading blue eyes of someone whom he had always despised. Someone whose shadows he had always bitterly dwelt. Someone...
...Whom no matter how hard the trickster tried, no matter how much he turned blind eyes over the other's warmth and affection, could never muster the will to truly hate.
"Thor..."
The words escaped his lips, no lighter than the whisper of an elf. Once the younger prince caught himself in the action, it was too late to take anything back. Loki let out a hiss of annoyance and snapped his emerald green eyes away from the man again in frustration.
Let him be damned. If he could not hope to withold himself from such pitiful actions, how could he ever hope to lead an army of thousands?
Thor's steel-like grip on his forearm only tightened, the God of Thunder's voice was deep and low, rumbling in his chest, but his tone was nothing but imploring.
"We were raised together. We played together, we fought together." Thor's voice broke, "Do you remember none of that?"
Loki snarled and thwarted the other's hand away before turning towards the opening of the cliff. The golden-haired warrior had always succeeded in turning his silver tongue to lead, and Loki did not like it. No, he did not like it at all.
A moment spread its dark wings and hovered away on its way across the terrain in silence.
"I remember a shadow..." The dark prince finally spoke. Slowly turning, his cold emerald eyes resumed a fixed, distant gaze upon the blue ones. "Living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into an abyss. I who was and should be king!" Loki snapped, his voice losing its edge. All hatred and resentment he could muster were poured into the gaze; he hated Thor! This mindless, impudent imbecile does not deserve the rule of the nine realms!
Then suddenly, it all collapsed to no avail when Thor's warm hand landed on the crook of his neck, Loki's breath hitched in his throat and Thor's gaze was again averted. It was one of the things Thor always did when he knew the silver tongue was lying; it was always Thor who knew the mischief maker was hiding from him the truth. What was worst? He always gets it.
"Look at me, Loki..." This time, Thor's voice was deep and husky. The dark prince could feel the hot whisper on his ear but refused to turn back lest he should falter and let slip his mask. Thor continued.
"You give up the Tesseract... You give up this poisonous dream...-" The God of Thunder swallowed, a shaky edge of his voice was audible, "...You come home."
'I don't have it!'
These hot words were on his lips as Loki whirled back, emerald eyes gleaming with fiery embers as the remark seared his heart. However, the acidic words were caught to burn in the serpent's own throat as as the other man bent down and press his lips gently onto his forehead...
It was but a simple, gentle kiss.
Yet, it was all that was needed for his mask to slip, his fortresses to shatter, and his false conviction to break. Thor only had a fraction of a second to pull the weeping deity into his strong arms and whisper words of consolation into his ears before the other collapse to the ground.
Tears of anger streamed down his face as the fallen angel clenched his fist in frustration against the warrior's powerful back, his hands tangled in the other's golden locks, and his face burried in the crook of his neck. Never before in this life had Loki ever felt so vulnerable, never before had he felt so defeated, and never before... So contented.