Content Warnings

This fic contains or will eventually contain: blood and injury, a brief scene of body horror, references to suicidal thoughts and past suicide attempts, self-harm, and character death.

Part 1 — Warden of Midgard

o

Chapter 1: If He Be Worthy

A warm glow washed over Thor's face as Odin dissipated into sparkling dust. The Allfather was dead. His father was dead.

The sky grew dark with clouds, the wind whipped against him. He stood.

His father was dead.

Thor turned to face his brother and Loki took a step away from him.

"Brother," Loki started — soft, wary. The voice that had soothed Thor's anger countless times over their centuries as brothers hit him like a static shock from a previously gentle hand. Whatever Loki was going to say didn't matter. His father was dead.

"This was your doing." The words rumbled up from inside him like thunder.

Loki took another step back. The playfulness he'd displayed in Asgard — back when he'd thought nothing of his actions, before he'd seen or even anticipated their terrible consequences — was gone now. He raised his hands and made a placating gesture, as if he could physically push Thor's anger away.

Not this time.

"Brother—"

"No," Thor snapped, "You are not my brother." And it was a lie, because otherwise it could never have hurt so much. But Thor knew, heartless, reckless, that no physical blow could ever hurt Loki the way those words would hurt.

If Thor expected him to crumble, he was disappointed. Loki's face remained impassive. Maybe it wasn't a lie. Thor remembered his brother — laughing, crying, wild and deep and sensitive — and this dead-faced stranger before him was nothing like those memories.

Lightning flickered above them in the dark. They stood face to face, and the distance between them felt like a sinkhole, the ground dropping out from beneath Thor's feet. He could feel the pressure building, inside and out.

Thor slammed his "umbrella" into the ground with a sharp crack. Lightning engulfed him, pulling away his Midgardian guise and leaving his armor in its wake. Loki, too, let the illusion over him slip away, and somehow, the uncharacteristic lack of melodrama in the transformation was the breaking point for Thor. He charged with a roar.

Loki dashed forward to meet him, knife in hand. He slipped in too close for Thor to engage him with his whole strength, forcing him into short thrusts and jabs instead of proper swings. Thor managed to shoulder him away briefly, earning a slash across his bicep, then feinted a swing at Loki as he stepped back. He hit the ground instead, sending out a wave of electricity that made his brother stumble. The next swing Loki deflected off the blade of his knife and lightning danced on the metal.

Good, Thor thought, as Loki grimaced at the shock. Feel something. Feel something.

They traded a series of flashing blows as Thor tried to aim not for Loki but for the knife. Loki spun off the last one and the knife came up — by sleight or spellcraft, it was now in Loki's left hand — for Thor's throat in a jab that nicked his chin as he jerked back out of the way. He'd played it off as a strategic move but Thor saw how he was trying to shake the numbing pain out of his right hand.

Before Loki could push back in, Thor flung Mjolnir at him. Loki stepped around it — expecting Thor to further retreat and try to push the distance between them. Instead, Thor dashed in behind the hammer and slammed a vicious kick straight into Loki's ribs, sending him staggering back.

Thor recalled Mjolnir as Loki recovered and the hammer clipped his knife hand as it returned. When he went to deflect Thor's next swing, his grip gave out and the hammer thudded into his hip. Loki rolled with the blow to lessen its impact, falling to the ground and tumbling back up to one knee. He pulled another knife from the air, and this time when Thor threw Mjolnir, Loki flicked his blade out at it as it spun past him to disrupt its flight, and it plowed into the ground behind him. He pushed himself to his feet and circled, and when Thor made as if to charge at him again, Loki flipped the knife over and threw it at him. Thor ducked and felt it graze his shoulder.

Loki turned just so as he went to sidestep, and his injured leg gave out beneath him, sending him to his knees in the grass.

Thor reached for Mjolnir and swung, a wild backhand strike aimed to knock Loki's head clean off his shoulders if he didn't dodge.

He didn't dodge.

The whole movement took less than a second but it seemed to stretch into an eternity.

Lightning bled from Thor's hand, leaving a trail of blinding light across his vision.

Loki flinched, braced himself, but didn't move.

Thor's hand sliced across, unimpeded.

He froze, a cold dread creeping through his veins in the realization of what had just transpired.

He stared down at Loki, saw his own horror and shock mirrored up at him in his brother's eyes.

And felt empty air clutched in his fist instead of Mjolnir's handle. Slowly, both of them turned to look — to see Mjolnir lying where it had fallen.

It began to rain.

Thor's thoughts felt sluggish, disjointed. You would have killed him, he thought. You would have killed your brother, and he would have let you.

Thor shivered. It was not the rain's fault. He raised his hand and called Mjolnir.

It didn't move.

You would have killed your brother. You would have murdered your brother in cold blood. You are unworthy. Unworthy. Unworthy.

The hammer shuddered, leaned, then tumbled back toward him.

Past him.

Thunked into the hand of someone behind them. Again, as one, they turned to look.

"So," purred Hela, dropping her hammer to her side. "These are the sons of Odin."

o

"Not impressed," she admitted evenly.

"You must be Hela," said Thor, "I am Thor, son of—"

"Actually," Hela cut him off, "You're not, really. Are you?"

"Excuse me?" said Loki.

Hela turned Mjolnir over in her hand, examining it. "'Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.' Interesting." She dropped it to swing it by its leather strap — slowly, as if to test it.

"Tell me, little brother… what were you the god of, again?" She eyed the roiling storm clouds and smirked.

Thor straightened as Hela began to spin the hammer faster. He felt like a mortal again, standing helpless but defiant before the Destroyer. "I am Thor," he said, "God of Thunder."

"Not if you're not worthy, you're not."

She flung Mjolnir just as Loki tackled him. Thor felt the static on his face as it passed, lightning streaming after it. Loki rolled to his feet and darted toward her, a long knife flashing in each hand.

Hela chuckled. "You've certainly got your second wind, haven't you?" She batted away Loki's flurry of slashes with her bare hands — the blades never touched her. "What is this," she asked, "Brotherly love for your would-be murderer?"

Loki laughed, disengaging to regain his footing. "Clearly you're an only child," he said. He grinned at her, eyes glittering, and suddenly he was once again the brother Thor remembered. "We've been trying to kill each other since the day we were born. I imagine mother and father had to watch us like hawks to keep us from strangling one another in our crib."

"Twins? How charming. No wonder you're so quick to forgive." Hela manifested a twisted black sword in each hand and they circled one another.

Thor hung back. He knew this trick. When Hela was mostly turned away from him — her attention fully on Loki and his banter — he saw the telltale glow of Loki's seidr as a conjured sword glimmered into existence before him. He snatched it up and dropped into sync with the two duelists, keeping just out of Hela's direct line of sight, and waited for his cue. Whatever they were to each other — brothers, enemies, both — they had somehow decided they were united against her. Better the devil you know, Thor thought.

"To be completely fair," Loki was saying, "It's really me who typically does the backstabbing in this family." The point of his knife burst through her chest from behind as he let the illusionary Loki she'd been watching disappear. Thor rushed toward her, swinging for her throat.

Hela gave a scream of rage, parrying Thor's blade with one sword and jabbing back at Loki with the other.

"Witch," she hissed.

Loki was stumbling back, curled defensively around a wound to his torso, but Thor couldn't see how bad it was.

When he caught Loki's eye, his expression worried, Loki flashed him a reassuring — if pained — grin.

"Shallow," he said. Thor wasn't sure whether to believe him.

"You two are really starting to piss me off." Hela reached behind her back to pull the knife out. She didn't seem overly injured by it.

Thor rushed her, Loki's conjured steel sparking off the black metal of Hela's blades. Thor wished Loki had thought — or had the time? or energy? — to loan him a second blade. No matter how he pressed the attack, all he earned was cut after cut.

In his peripheral vision, he saw a black blade darting in for his eye.

Then the flash of Loki's knife as he hooked the blade on his own.

Between the three of them, the air was filled with blades. Hela was everywhere at once and her swords twisted and writhed to catch theirs. Thor would have been awed by her if he wasn't already filled with anger and confusion and terror.

Loki stepped around her, twisting her arm beneath his blade to pin it and create an opening for Thor, who disarmed her other hand.

Or so he thought.

In the half a second it took for him to realize that she'd dropped the blade in order to summon Mjolnir, the hammer was already speeding past him. She turned, drawing back to elbow Loki in the jaw and send him staggering and then, before Thor could properly move out of the way—

WHAM.

The rain was going suddenly in the wrong direction. Directions. The whole world wheeled around him. He thought he heard Loki shout his name but couldn't be sure over the deafening crack of lightning. His heart sputtered, his body burned, the ground leapt up to slam into him.

Thor watched sparks dance before his eyes for a second before he realized he was looking up at the clouds. The rain was almost pleasant, falling in big heavy drops like tears. The realization that he couldn't breathe was almost an afterthought.

"I suppose Father never told you about me," Hela said, "Which means we haven't been properly introduced. I am Hela, the Goddess of Death."

Thor sucked air into his unwilling lungs. Hela's voice fell around him like the rain.

"I was Odin's executioner as he pillaged and plundered the realms of Yggdrasil. With me at his side, we conquered nine of them — and then one day he just… decided he was going to be a benevolent king. Foster peace, protect life… have you. My ambitions were bigger. Asgard was meant to rule all others. So what was I to do? Conquered one pathetic little world — wiped out one worthless race of monsters — and he tossed me away. Caged me like an animal. You perfect little princes can't even imagine."

She loomed into Thor's sight as a wicked headdress of twisted black metal warped into existence around her face. In her hand, Mjolnir swept in slow, cruel arcs.

"Enjoy Valhalla, brother," Hela said, drawing back Mjolnir. The clouds swirled above her, lightning flashing through them.

Something heavy fell over Thor and Hela balked in confusion as she looked over him — through him, flicked her eyes this way and that. Hands were grabbing him, lifting him up, but he couldn't see them or even his own when he lifted them before his eyes. It was surreal.

He was invisible. They were invisible.

All at once the static cleared from Thor's brain and he stumbled to his feet. He felt Loki find his wrist and start pulling him. They managed to get out of the way just as Hela slammed Mjolnir into the ground with a crash of lightning and a cry of frustration.

They ran, the grass whipping around their legs as the wind picked up. "A bit too much of mother in you for my liking," Hela snarled. "Why don't I show you what real power looks like?!"

Thor looked back to see her raising her arms. The air around her filled with a sharp, swirling darkness that exploded into a hail of blades. Thor jerked Loki's hand, tackling him as the swords soared over them, one of them clipping Thor's forehead. When Loki got up again, he pulled Thor in a slightly different direction.

Thor was looking back, watching Hela as she turned this way and that, as she started to summon another wave of weapons. In front of him Loki stopped and released his arm and Thor turned to see they were at the edge of the cliff. He was trying to find a silent, invisible, fast way to ask Loki what his plan was when his brother unceremoniously shoved him off the edge.

Thor hit the beach hard, doing his best to minimize the damage to his unseen limbs. Loki landed beside him a heartbeat later. Perfectly, of course; Thor could tell by the imprint he left in the sand that he'd hit the ground in a roll and gotten his footing immediately.

Loki's hand almost immediately hit him in the face, groping for his shoulder, then down his arm to pull him up and get him running again. Thor felt himself pulled down the beach into the sea, and then back at a sharp angle into deeper water that stung his wounds. Black blades rained down the beach, following the trajectory of their footprints. Loki didn't stop, dragging them through the surf toward some rocks.

Hela landed with a thud in the same spot they had. She swept her eyes over the sand, then started to spin Mjolnir.

"Brace yourself," Loki hissed.

She held the hammer to the sky and brought it down with a bolt of lightning straight into the sea. Electricity crackled out in sparks across the waves, and Thor felt it buzz unpleasantly through him.

Hela stalked down the beach away from them and approached something in the water.

A person, Thor realized, his heart lurching. A second body was floating facedown not far from it, the waves pushing them toward the shore. Thor realized with a start that the body he was staring at was his own.

Hela blasted them again, and Thor saw them disappear in a burst of softly-glowing stardust, as Odin had.

Sometimes Loki's power and ingenuity was truly disturbing, Thor thought, as Hela threw Mjolnir into the sky and let herself be dragged away with it.

o

She was gone.

They were exhausted, not just hiding, Thor tried to convince himself as the minutes bled past. Thor's heart was pounding and he could hear and feel Loki's ragged breathing. Finally, they peeled themselves from the rocks and dragged themselves back onto the beach. Thor turned toward where he thought Loki probably was and sat heavily back onto the sand.

The first thing Thor saw of himself was his knee, gleaming slowly back into existence in front of him as the invisibility spell unravelled. Loki was standing a few feet away, one hand pressed hard into his side. Thor could see water-thinned blood seeping out between his fingers.

"How bad is it?" Thor heard himself ask.

"I'll live," Loki grumbled. He limped to Thor and offered him a hand, which Thor took without argument. Too tired. The brothers set off down the beach, leaning heavily on one another.

Thor's brain was filled with a seething chaos that he couldn't get a hold of. His father, dead. Hela, free. Loki, his brother, not his brother. All of this, Loki's fault, his fault. His hand, with no hammer in it. His unworthiness, the only reason Loki's head was still attached to his shoulders. Through all of it, the question: what now? What could he do? He flailed desperately to find some actionable direction and failed. Adrift, helpless.

All right, he thought, action one: stop feeling sorry for yourself.

Stop feeling sorry for himself, find somewhere safe, rest. There. That felt better.

He staggered, losing his train of thought, as Loki suddenly stopped helping to hold him up. Thor turned to see that he'd fallen to one knee.

Loki hissed in pain and annoyance. "I'm fine," he said, to Thor's concerned look. He used Thor's offered hand to steady himself as he pushed himself back to his feet.

A few steps later, he'd fallen again. This time he didn't get back up. "Just give me a moment," he said, and Thor was struck by the weariness in his voice. "Just a moment."

"Sure," said Thor.

The soft glow of a town could be seen in the distance, through the rain. It didn't seem to be on fire, nor could Thor hear any panicked screaming, so that probably fit the definition of "safe" well enough.

Beside him, Loki said, "I don't think I can get up."

Thor bent down and let Loki throw an arm over his shoulders, then hauled his brother to his feet. Thor felt an involuntary shudder ripple through Loki with every other step. After a few feet, when Thor could see him starting to buckle again, he stopped and just swept his arm under Loki's shaking legs and picked him up.

Thor added make sure Loki isn't dying to his mental itinerary.

In a voice so small Thor could barely hear it above the rain, Loki said, "I'm sorry."