Title: Not in Blood, But in Heart
Author: Lokiev
Words: 988
Characters: Thor, Loki, mention of Iron Man.
Rating: G
Warning: Character Death.
Summary: They are brothers.
Author's Note: Yes, I am an angstwhore. Yes, character deaths are angsty. The connection is made. Wrote this at 1AM or so, not been beta-ed or anything, so forgive the spelling errors and whatnot. Cheers.
"Ah."
It isn't so much a gasp of shock and pain as it is a sound of relief and resignation.
Loki looks down. Here's what he knows: his eyes registers this - a short dagger sticking awkwardly out of his chest (just below his heart too, and Loki spares time to think the man who threw it at him must have such terrible aim), crimson red blotting the front of his clothing. His nose smells this - the acrid scent of smoke caused by a fire, which was not caused him (not this time, anyway), burning into the insides of his nose. He tastes this, the bitter, coppery tang of blood tainting his tongue. And he hears this, a strange sound, a bellow, coming from behind him. A unique and intricate mix of terror, shock, disbelief and rage.
Odd, Loki thinks. Odd that a man so simple could make a sound so complicated.
Because Thor is simple. Just unending bravery and light. Light so bright he burns like the sun.
The Midgardians have a tale for this, Loki thinks. Get too close to the sun, and you'll burn.
Loki chuckles as he sways on his feet. Oh, how he had burned. Thor was the light, and Loki was attracted by the light, like a moth to the flame. And how he had burned. He burned so much worse, because Frost Giant abhorred the heat and light. They were mortal enemies, made so by nature, and it was undeniable. And Loki was a Frost Giant.
A Frost Giant.
A monster.
The one Asgardian parents tell children at night.
The terror that stalks the nightmares of babes still, the abomination.
The villain.
Loki falls, and he barely registers the arms that catch him until they have dragged him up against a broad chest. Only then does Loki register the fast breathing, the panicked breaths that escape the lips near his ear as Thor pulls him backwards, away from the melee.
Loki watches with detachment as his attacker hisses and tries to follow, but is blocked by the Man of Iron. And then he is laid down, on the cold, hard, unyielding ground, and his vision is filled with the visage of Thor.
'Thor,' Loki whispers. The name comes unbidden to his lips, a word well practiced and used.
'Brother,' Thor returns, and if it were anyone but Loki, they would not have heard the soft tremor in his voice.
Loki frowns. 'I am not -'
'Stop, brother. Save your breath.' Thor places emphasis on brother, like an argument old and fought one time too many. Loki's silence does not mean assent; he is simply tired.
'I could have taken it,' Thor says as he rips Loki's clothing apart to inspect the wound. The dagger is embedded deep in Loki's flesh, and he can hear his breath rattling. The dagger has punctured a lung, Loki knows, and he is loosing far too much blood.
'I know,' Loki says, and for once, he does not think before he says. Loki thinks that he can do this for Thor, at least.
Thor presses his lips in a thin line, and slips his arm behind Loki's head.
'Come. I will bring you to Asgard's healers.'
'No.'
Loki rasps out the single word, and Thor's shock stills his movements. It is his turn to frown, and Loki shakes his head once for emphasis.
'No,' he says again, as if Thor is a particularly slow child.
'Loki,' Thor begins, and Loki knows that voice, like he knows every look of Thor's, like he knows every smile. It is the voice that Thor uses whenever he tries to persuade others to his cause, and barring that, bullies them into anyway. But Loki knows, and Loki will not give in.
'Remember, Thor, when I had that foal?' Loki trains his eyes on Thor, and Thor is drawn to the glittering green. He smiles a smile a thousand shades dimmer than his normal smile, because he does remember, but this is not the moment. 'Yes. You loved that little runt, didn't you, brother. Far too much, if you ask me. But now is not the time.' Thor secures his hand around Loki neck, and Loki speaks again.
'Remember what happened then?'
Thor frowns.
'It died, Thor, and you told me to let it go.'
Understanding dawns on Thor's face, and his features harden. 'A foal can be replaced, Loki.'
'So can I.'
Anger battles with anguish on Thor's features. The edge of Loki's lips turn downwards. He sees that look every time they battle, The Avengers and him, and he has had to steel himself every time he spies Thor, has had to remind himself that he is playing a role. A villain. His role.
Loki does not like that look.
He lifts a hand to Thor's face, but his limbs have numbness creeping up on them, and it falters, begins to drop back limply. Thor catches it, and his touch gentles. Loki waits to see what Thor will do, but he does nothing, and Loki makes to move his hand on its intended path. Thor supports, and does nothing more, and Loki near breaks with the gesture.
His thumb presses on the crease between Thor's eyebrows and Loki smoothes it out.
'You're my brother, Loki.'
'Not of blood.'
'Not of blood, but of heart. Is that not enough, Loki?'
Loki smiles, and teeth stained with blood shows. Thor fights the grimace he can feel bubbling beneath the surface. Loki's eyes have dulled, Thor sees, and the heart that beats beneath his fingers grow sluggish. He wants to scream, to throw Mjölnir at anything and hear them break. Anything but his brother.
'Never,' Loki whispers with a wry smile, and closes his eyes, falls to the silence and nothing.