Hold Your Horses, There's a Storm in my Teacup

by KTSpree13

From the moment he touched Gungnir, Loki knew he never wanted to let it go. It was a battle he would fight for the rest of his life. For those unprepared, the powers of the Allfather can be addictive. When you add infinity stones, things can get even worse. Life lessons are hard to learn, & when the Allfather wants to give you the task of ruling the nine, how do you say no?

1. Chapter 1

Hello all! I'm smack dab in the middle of writing a MONSTER of a chapter for It's All Coming Back to Me, and this idea just curls up into my brain and won't let go. I started writing it yesterday and thought I'd get maybe 2,000 words and be done with it. Well, 5,000 words later, I have the first part of what was supposed to be a one-shot, and has turned itself into a double-tap. ;) So, I've already started on chapter two. It shouldn't take too long to finish this one. But, I hope you enjoy! I wrote the poem that starts this chapter off, and will include a new one for the next chapter. If you have a chance, I'd love to know what you thought of this! :)

Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, nor any dialog that appears from the movies. Not for profit.

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The roads we hoe are long and low

The battles we fight nearly never feel right.

My brother, my enemy

My enemy, my friend

Mountains surround us

Forests between us

Deep waters within

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The first time it happened, Loki wasn't prepared for the rush of power that flowed into him the moment he gripped Gungnir. When the priest handed over Odin's staff, he never wanted to let go. Sitting on the throne added an extra boost to the feeling, and it became an addiction. When he wasn't holding Gungnir, it was in a pocket dimension, feeding him the power he craved. When he visited Thor, he had miniaturized Gungnir and placed it in the pocket of his shirt, close to his heart. Of course Thor couldn't come home! How could he ever give this up? He felt good, strong, like he finally belonged in Asgard. He finally had a place there, a purpose; and no one was going to take that away from him. With this power, he could almost forget he was Jotun. Everyone wanted to take it from him, though. Sif, the Warriors Three, Heimdall, his biological father, even his own brother. Loki had to fight them all, and destroy any threats. The power was his to command. It belonged with him.

Loki knew the moment Odin awoke from the Odinsleep. The power he had fought so fiercely for left him just as suddenly as it had come to him, for it knew its true master. And when he was left dangling over the Void, staring up into his father's eyes…

"I could have done it, Father! For you…for all of us!" I could have mastered the power, over time. I could have made a great king… If only you had told me what it would be like. I could have prepared.

Odin's face reflected sadness and regret. The powers of the Allfather were a burden to pass only to those ready and prepared to take them. He regretted leaving his youngest son unprepared and felt sad at how the power had consumed him. No, Loki hadn't been ready, and it was his own fault. "No, Loki," he whispered. But the next words got caught in his throat. It's all my fault. Odin swallowed.

And instead of staying to fight his addiction, Loki let go. Instead of battling through his craving for Odin's power, he chose to cut himself off from the source. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. As he hurtled through the Void, all he could think about was how good it had felt to be king.

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Thanos knew about his addiction. Loki didn't know how he had arrived at his sanctuary, nor how the Mad Titan knew, but, all the same, he knew what Loki craved, and used that against him. Loki shivered in the cold, only thinking of the power just beyond his reach. His teeth chattered and he fixated on the memory of a golden throne and a long, slender staff. He hadn't been there long before Thanos offered him a different sort of staff. This one also held power; lots of it. Loki's mouth watered at the thought, but his mind still hungered for Gungnir. He couldn't touch this one. It would be a betrayal.

Every day, the temptation was brought forth before him. The choice was always his. Take the staff, or be comforted by his memories alone. For the first few weeks, Loki dreaded these hours. They were hours, weren't they? He felt like it was hours that he sat, huddled in a ball, forcing himself not to touch, but unable to look away from the comforting blue glow. In reality, they gave him twenty minutes, at most, just to see what he'd do. Thanos knew it was working when Loki would continue to stare at where the staff had been for hours on end. His little princeling never said anything, but he wanted the scepter, and he would take it, eventually.

After a month, Loki started to stretch out on the ground, reaching towards the scepter, but never touching it. You're not Gungnir, he lamented. I don't want your purpose. It felt good to be close to that glowing blue light. Thanos watched carefully as Loki's shakes became worse, his appetite dwindled, and his distance from the scepter lessened. He wanted the power it promised. He just needed more convincing. Thanos moved to crouch next to Loki's prone form. He stroked his hair.

"The scepter will comfort you, my little prince. Why don't you make yourself feel better and just take it?" he prompted. Loki whined.

"I don't want your purpose," he whispered, trying to draw back from Thanos and the scepter. But he stared and stared and stared into its blue light.

By the end of the month, Loki would crawl towards the Other when he went to lock the scepter away. Thanos would sit by Loki for hours after that, talking about his vision for the universe and encouraging Loki to eat. Even the food contained suggestions to accept the scepter's will. Loki would just lay next to him, unable to move, one shaky hand stretched towards the direction the scepter was taken.

"I don't want your purpose," he'd whisper, over and over. Each day his mantra became fainter and fainter.

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After six months of being with Thanos, Loki was all but curled around the scepter for the hour a day they let him have it. He would whisper to it, hopefully, "Let's think of a new purpose together." When they took it away, he cried. It felt like years until it came back to him again. Eventually, Thanos became dissatisfied with his constant attempt to change the scepter's will to his own. He punished Loki, refusing him any contact with the scepter. By the third day, Loki could scarcely breathe, he needed to see it so badly. When the scepter was placed in his outstretched hands, he promised to obey.

Now, the scepter never left his side, and he cried for himself. What have I become? his mind wailed. Thanos watched with keen, appreciative eyes as Loki turned away from his boyish innocence, all for the chance to have the power of the mind stone by his side. And he was greatly pleased with his depth of need for it. He would learn to never let it out of his sight before Thanos sent him to Earth. Loki slept less and less, staying awake to listen to the call from the infinity gem. He gathered his strength from it alone, forsaking food and water, more and more often. In this, Thanos took pity. He needed a strong warrior, not a weak junkie.

Once again, Thanos sat by Loki as he cradled the scepter in his arms. He petted his hair as Loki rocked back and forth, high on the energy flagging from the staff he clung to. Taking the scepter from him, he calmed Loki, making him drink and forcing him to eat. Loki barely recognized his captor anymore, so enthralled was he. Thanos did this for several weeks until Loki, once again, was strong enough to fight. Then, Thanos spoke his plan to the mind gem and Loki accepted his new purpose with great fervor.

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His new scepter was different from Gungnir. It didn't have a name, for it only knew power and purpose. Loki decided to call it "Dróttinn," meaning master. It showed him great and terrible things about the universe and molded his mind to want what it wanted. The innocence he had still clung to in Asgard left him and he emerged from his time on Thanos' sanctuary the crazed killer his scepter needed him to be. Dróttinn had even taught him how to seek it out if they should ever become separated, though Loki couldn't imagine ever letting go. "Never, Dróttinn," he would murmur. The answering wave of power comforted Loki.

The next thing Dróttinn taught him was how to look in the minds of others and enslave them to their own will. When he reached Earth, this was his first task, though he made sure to choose the best, kindest, most sensible candidates he could find. He had a choice, in the end. He could have the big man with all the power and codes of a great agency behind him, but a dark, cold heart; or he could have the keen, trained assassin who knew when to kill and when to spare, who cared for others. A man who cared mattered more to him, he decided, than the power behind the cold heart. Dróttinn was not so sure. When they had escaped with the cube Dróttinn wanted, he whispered over and over "The hawk man will be good, you will see."

And he was good. Hawk man held the scepter with respect. He helped Loki to focus on staying strong and completing the mission, even when all he wanted was to curl up with Dróttinn and hide its power away from anyone who might try to take it. Hawk man made him bathe, which he had not done in many months. He forced him to sleep, which he had not taken the time for in weeks. Yes, Loki had made the right choice. Dróttinn would see, he was sure.

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The first time Loki lost Dróttinn, he was able to handle the separation. They were going to the same place, after all. They had so much as been told that by the silly heroes they had let themselves be captured by. He also sent out frequent pulses to it to calm himself at how close it was. Dróttinn, I am here. He'd receive an answering pulse every time. He even noticed Dróttinn acting on its own, attempting to convert their target to their side.

The second time he lost his scepter was the last time he saw Dróttinn, and he was not coping well. He flung himself off the tall Stark building, flew erratically around the city, didn't even notice the explosive attached to the arrow the hawk man sent his way, and landed very ungracefully inside the very same tower he'd jumped from. All these creatures planned to take Dróttinn away from him. Didn't they see he needed its power, now? Didn't they realize Dróttinn needed him? He had a purpose again, a place in the universe. Loki frantically sent out pulse after pulse, looking for the scepter, until he blew up at the green beast and was pounded into the floor. He was starting to shake already.

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Thor, that big dumb ox! He left Dróttinn! He let those puny humans have his scepter. He allowed those so beneath them to have the power that had been given to him freely, needed him alone; he needed it alone… Thor had noticed right away, the shaking, desperate, aching mess that Loki was. Or perhaps the hawk man had told him, when he had regained his own will. Loki kept calling out to Dróttinn, for as long as he could. He sent pulses every minute, but nothing answered him back. Perhaps his scepter no longer wanted him. Eventually, Loki ran out of magic to spend. That was when he had begged…begged!..for Dróttinn. When the hawk man came in, he was exhausted and too surprised to act. He felt disgusted with himself when the archer looked at him with pity. Hawk man wasn't as kind this time. He didn't bring Loki food or drink. He didn't make him sleep, or bathe in the room they'd stuck him in. He just stared.

"I thought I wanted revenge," he told him, after a long while.

"Where is the scepter?" Loki snapped. Hawk man just shook his head.

"You're more a slave to it than I ever was." The archer left him, then, shutting the door behind him. Loki rushed up to it and banged loudly.

"Where is the scepter?!" he snarled, pushing his wild hair away from his face.

"Far away from you," he heard the assassin call back.

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Thor came to him late in the night. Loki was hallucinating again. Gungnir and Dróttinn hovered right in front of him, both angry, both feeling betrayed.

How could you let me go? whispered Gungnir.

How could you let them take me? How could you let us lose? screeched Dróttinn.

Loki held his head and rocked back and forth. When Thor came in, he was raking deep gash marks down his face with his long fingernails. Asking his staves over and over again, "Where are you? Where are you?" Thor took his hands in one of his own and wrapped his other arm around Loki.

"Brother," he soothed. "The power is gone. Let its thrall leave you."

"Never gone," Loki promised. "Always more. There's lots more." Thor petted his hair and rocked with him.

"No, brother. You do not need that power. You are strong and clever without it," Thor assured him.

"I would be king for that power," Loki continued to babble. "It is my burden to take, Thor. It is my purpose." Thor hid his tears from Loki, but kept holding onto him, tightly. "Not your purpose," he snarled. "My purpose." He started to hyperventilate, working himself up with the thought of Thor feeling the way he did, taking Gungnir for the first time. "It…w-w-will be too much…f-for you. Th-There's no coming back. There's only…the Void."

"Loki, please," Thor begged. He took deep, slow breaths. "Listen to my breathing, brother," he pleaded, as Loki sagged against him. Thor gave him a sharp slap on his cheek when his eyes starting rolling to the back of his head. "Loki!" Thor ordered. He took one, long, gasping breath before finally working to even his breathing out to match Thor's.

When he had calmed down, Lok spoke again. "Not for you, brother," he sighed. "Don't touch it." Thor hugged him tighter.

"OK, Loki. I understand," he placated him.

"Where is Dróttinn?" he trembled.

"It's time for bed, Loki. Dróttinn is safe. You can rest easy." Thor picked him up to carry him to the bed.

"Dróttinn needs me. We have an important purpose. I didn't want to, but I promised." Loki struggled weakly, looking for the door.

"Dróttinn fulfilled its purpose. It spoke to me. The scepter feels safe and fulfilled," he lied. "Now, sleep, brother." Thor laid him on the bed and wrapped him up tightly in the covers while Loki struggled.

"Nnnn…not your brother," he choked, feeling himself wrapped so tightly he could no longer move. Thor swiped at his eyes discreetly.

"Maybe not by blood, but you will always be my little brother, Loki. Now sleep. I will stay by your side to make sure you are safe," he promised.

"Dróttinn…" Loki moaned, his eyelids drooping closed.

"Dróttinn is safe. Go to sleep." Thor sat on the hard floor and propped himself up against bed, facing the door. He knew this would make Loki feel safe enough to sleep.

"Dro…" he panted. "You…no…where….don't…" he breathed, finally succumbing to sleep. "Thor…" The older prince propped up his legs and put his elbows on his knees. He let his head fall into his hands, feeling at a loss for what to do for Loki.

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Loki stood before the Allfather in the throne room. In chains. It had been a year since the Chitauri battle. That was how long Thor had needed to bring him back from his enslavement to that scepter. And even now, after all the work they'd done, he stared hungrily at Gungnir. It mattered little what he said to Odin. He either wanted to kill him and steal the power, or he wanted to be locked away where he could never reach it. Loki looked around nervously for his brother. He needed his support if he was going to get out of this trial unscathed. Surely Thor told Odin what happened on Midgard, he worried. But Loki hadn't seen his father in two years. Perhaps Odin was too ashamed of him, now, to care whether Loki acted on his own or not. He was ashamed of himself, after all. And so, when Odin finally noticed the sheen of sweat on his brow and the hungry look Loki tossed at Gungnir, he changed his tune and decided to throw him in the dungeon.

"It is my birthright," Loki screamed again. "Thor will never be ready," he cautioned. "Do not do this to him, Father!" Loki begged. Odin turned away from him, though, unable to look him in the eye.

"There are still lessons you need to learn, my son," Odin imparted, as he was dragged away.

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Thor stood in front of Loki's cell, anger splayed all over his face. "I see the talk with Father did not go as we had talked about," he glowered.

"Where were you?" Loki gasped, laying on the floor of his cell. "The staff was right there, Thor." Loki closed his eyes, dreaming of Gungnir again. He reached his arms up towards the imaginary staff in his mind. Thor sighed and sat down next to the cell's barrier, his back to Loki.

"I know, Loki. You have to fight it, though. It is not a power you want." Thor ran his hands through his hair to give himself something to do. "Remember how crazy it made you and remember how you hated feeling so dependent upon it. You were never anxious by nature, brother. It is these powers that have made you so. You are their master, not the other way around."

Everything Thor said made sense, damn him, and Loki bit his lip til it drew blood. "I know," he conceded, softly, opening his eyes. He stared over at Thor. "What can I do now, though?" He let his hands fall heavily onto the floor at his sides. "I have already failed the old man's test," he hissed.

"Do not give up hope, brother. Keep up at the mental exercises we learned in Alfheim. Those seemed to help, did they not?" Thor turned to look at Loki while the younger prince picked at his hands.

"I do not know," he confessed. "I hope so." Loki took a deep breath and sat up to face Thor. "I promise to keep at them, Thor." Thor nodded and stood up.

"OK. I am needed on Vanaheim, or I would stay longer. But when I return, I will see about talking to Father. I do not think you are so bad that you should be locked away down here." Loki's eyes softened as he stared down at his hands.

"Thank you, brother," he mumbled, and Thor's heart swelled. Since finding out he was adopted, Thor could remember the exact number of times Loki had actually called him "brother" and meant it. It was a short list, but he treasured each one.

"I love you, little brother," he smiled. Loki cleared his throat and turned around, silently communicating his discomfort. Thor smirked and shook his head, but headed for the stairs. "I know you do, too," he called back as he started for the stairs.

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Loki tossed a cup in the air, repeatedly, trying to keep his mind off the things he wasn't supposed to think about. Wasn't supposed to want. And yet, Gungnir still burned in his veins. It had taken awhile to get the dark desire for the scepter out of his mind, but the light elves had a great affinity for pulling through addiction, and he and Thor learned a great deal while they were there. For Loki, Gungnir was still a power he had to struggle against. It was part of his home, despite all his protests. It was a purpose he could have been destined for. Should still be destined for! he raged. Thor should not have to shoulder this. He does not know, like I know, what that power is like. It will crush him… He worried about this over and over, and yet, every time Loki thought rationally about taking the throne, he never wanted it. A huge surge of power caught his attention in that next moment, and Loki put the cup down. To his surprise, there was some kind of monster pushing his way out of a cell by way of another creature's skull.

When the monster started killing the guards on duty, Loki did something he knew he shouldn't. He really shouldn't call to Gungnir like the scepter had taught him. He knew, rationally, it wasn't healthy. It would bring back all those feelings of want all over again. But he had to know. What if something is happening in the palace as well? Shouldn't I know if Odin has been compromised? his addiction reasoned. I should, he decided. While the monster started tearing down cell barriers, Loki sent a pulse of his own magic out to Gungnir. Its answering call was strong and hungry. There was a battle afoot and it had been too long since Odin had fought with his weapon. It asked for Loki to take it to battle, and beckoned him to come take it from Odin. Loki closed his eyes and breathed in deep. When he opened them again, he felt the familiar high of wielding the Allfather's weapon. When the monster came upon his cell, though, he didn't let him out.

Thinking quickly, Loki sent a retort his way. The stairs were packed with other escaped prisoners and guards alike. "You might want to take the stairs to the left," he smirked. Either he will let me out for my help, or he may kill the Allfather himself and leave Gungnir for me, he thought vociferously. His eyes gleamed with the promise of power Gungnir had sent him. Let me out, you despicable wretch! The monster simply turned around and left, following his advice, taking the stairs on the left, and avoiding the fight. Loki broke a table in his anger.

When Thor finally arrived in the dungeon, a loud crash shook the entire palace, all the way down to the dungeon. The two princes exchanged glances before Thor's eyes widened in horror. Loki's pupils were blown wide and his gaze unfocused.

"Loki!" Thor bellowed, over the rowdy din of fighting. "What have you done?"

"Gungnir needs someone fierce to wield it in battle," he touted. "I simply let it know I was available." He smiled wickedly. "It felt so good to say hello, brother."

"Loki!" Thor raged, disposing of the prisoners left in the stairwell as a bigger crash shook the palace. The two brothers stared up at the ceiling. Thor looked back at Loki and shook his head before running up the stairs towards the throne.

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Loki stared at Jane like a starving man looking at the prospect of a large piece of fruit. His mouth felt dry, but he dared not reach out to Aether. Odin had been right; there were still lessons he'd needed to learn. It was a lesson he'd, now, never forget, and an action he'd regret for the rest of his life. He let his want for these ancient powers take over his mind, and for that, he got his own mother killed. Like an itch that needed to be scratched, he couldn't have just ignored it and moved on. As he continued to steer the ship they were on, he reminded himself of the pact he'd made in the dungeon, after he'd learned of Frigga's death. At the time, he'd been a little harsh. Never again, you disgusting shit. You will be strong and you will overcome this. It didn't feel fair to him. One small moment of weakness, when he had no one to lean on, once again, and it caused a domino effect in the dark elf battle. It made him want to retch, thinking about it.

Loki took a deep breath, weighing his options. Despite knowing he would do nothing, he needed to talk about it anyways. "What I could do with the power that flows through her veins," he released. Thor looked over at Loki and caught his meaning. He glared, still angry at Loki's earlier betrayal. Loki's set-back had pulled Odin's focus during the attack. Instead of charging ahead as normal, he had needed to urge Gungnir fully under his control before leading their troops. It was time they had sorely needed.

I have to let this go, Thor criticized himself. It is an illness that drove Loki, not some kind of true desire to see Asgard fall. He looked down at Jane and counted to ten, ensuring he was calmer when he spoke. "It would consume you," he advised, telling Loki something he'd heard many times before.

And just because he still needed to keep talking, Loki hit where it hurt. "She seems to be holding up alright…for now."

"She's strong in ways you wouldn't even know," Thor accused, instantly cursing himself for his temper. Loki needed his support, not the things he was wont to say in his unthinking anger. The younger prince felt the sting from Thor's words and turned away.

"You're right. She'll probably be fine when we trick Malekith into removing the Aether from her," he remarked. "I would be a wreck, but Jane's strong in ways I'll never know, isn't she?" The two locked eyes in a clash of tempers and egos, the smell of ozone filling the air.

"I didn't mean it that way," Thor ground out, "and you know it." In the end, Loki yielded.

"You don't have to worry, Thor. I've learned my lesson with Mother." Thor looked at him, confused.

"What do you mean?" he demanded. Loki refused to talk about it any further.

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Such poetic justice, Loki laughed. That was ill-advised. He turned on his side and threw up, crying out in pain afterward. He'd gotten his revenge for his mother's death, and the same creature that killed her pretty nearly killed him. He was still unsure how he was still living. Thor and Jane were gone, he was covered in sand, and he had a giant gash running through the front and back of his body. Loki moved onto his back again and focused his energies into healing. It left him a lot of time for thinking, once again, which he didn't appreciate. I am so tired. Can I not just rest? He closed his eyes, trying to figure out what he was going to do. I should tell the Allfather I'm dead. That Mother is avenged and I am dead. Better yet, I could just let Thor do it… I could heal up enough to leave this planet and go wherever I felt like to heal. I can shapeshift into whatever I want. I'd never have to worry about being found out. Loki turned on his side again to cough up some of the blood that was lingering in his mouth. He groaned as his insides knit back together, sliding onto his back once more. I couldn't do that to Thor. He knows what awaits him, if he picks up Gungnir. But perhaps Thor isn't afraid, Loki stressed. Still…

He cried out as he rolled onto his knees. He shouldn't be moving so soon, but if he was going to beat Thor back to Asgard, he needed to get moving. He coughed up more blood as his magic pushed out the blood that had gathered in his lungs. After that, he retched again. The Norns have a pretty sick sense of humor. He wheezed, sitting up. He felt dizzy, but he could feel his magic whirling inside him, doing its job. If he had a few more days, he could move without so much pain. But he didn't have that kind of time. He was loathe to do it, but Loki ripped open his leather tunic and removed it gently from his body. The gash was still dripping with blood, but nothing that would kill him, now. He reached down in himself to locate the magic that was part of his heritage. Redirecting some of the healing to this, he encased his chest in a thin sheet of ice. It would help keep things together as he moved around. He roared in pain as he stood up, staring down at his chest. The gash opened up again, but his blood had nowhere to go. Satisfied with this, Loki magicked the illusion of an Einherjar on himself and directed the rest of his magic away from healing, for a few moments, in order to teleport off of Svartalfheim and to Asgard.

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When he crash landed in the healing halls, Loki seemed to disrupt nearly everyone there, retching blood and bile, once again, onto the floor. He was happily surprised that he still wore the disguise of the Einherjar. "I'm sorry," he spluttered. "I just returned from Svartalfheim and was involved in a battle against Malekith." A few of the healers rushed at him holding some of the healing stones and directing him to lay on one of the nearby beds. As he gave the illusion that they were removing his armor, he got rid of the ice encasing his chest and dropped the illusion of armor on his chest. The healers gasped, staring at the wound and quickly crushing up some of the stones.

"Don't worry," one of the women chimed in. "We've been dealing with a lot of these wounds. Are there more coming?"

"No," he coughed. "I was sent with one other, as a scouting party. I was the only one to return." The healers nodded and gently moved him to his side so they could apply some of the stones to Loki's back. "I don't have much time, though. I must inform the Allfather what I have seen." Five minutes, tops. That's what Loki would give them.

"You're in no condition to speak with the King," Eir reprimanded him, as she came over to look at the wound.

"I appreciate the concern, madam, but I must inform his majesty. It is of grave importance. I have, perhaps, five minutes to spare. But I will return as soon as I have relayed the message," Loki lied. Eir stared down at him with a stern expression.

"If it is of such important matters, then you will stay for ten, and return the moment you are done. I will hold you to that!" Loki smiled. Eir had always been his favorite.

"Alright, madam," he agreed.

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True to her word, Eir had not let him go a moment sooner than ten minutes and had sent a guard with him to ensure he returned the moment he left the throne room. Ten minutes, sitting with the healing stones, though, had been extremely helpful. He used his magic to cover his chest in the ice again, and started the illusion of putting the armor back on his upper body. Dragging himself from the healing bed was hard. He didn't want to get up. But, assuming Thor was successful, he didn't have much time. And if he wasn't successful, what difference did it matter if he were lying in bed or speaking with Odin in the throne room. Better safe than sorry, he quipped.

Making his way there was a slow process, but he was surprised when the doors opened and revealed the throne room, still in shambles, and the king, standing weakly upon the dais; lost, defeated. When Loki reached bottom steps of the dais, he addressed the Allfather.

"Forgive me, my liege. I've returned from the Dark World with news." Odin looked over at him, and Loki wasn't sure if he saw straight through his illusion or not.

"Thor?" he asked, sounding tired. He stood on dais that led up to the second set of steps that were necessary to reach the throne.

"There's no sign of Thor, or the weapon, but…" Loki moved a bit closer, wanting to really catch Odin's expression on this.

"What?" he croaked, his shoulders slumping even more.

"We found a body." Loki watched as the only father he'd known stared at him, confused. He didn't feel like explaining, so he plastered on a sad face, hoping the man caught his drift. It finally dawned on him.

"Loki," he whispered, like all the air had been punched out of him. Odin stumbled and fell hard upon his backside.

"Allfather!" Loki cried, rushing up to help him. He winced as he felt the gash on his chest open up again. Without thinking, he grasped Odin's forearm to help him up, and his illusion fell away.