Author's Note: Just a one-shot about our favorite brothers. Yes, I'm one of those annoying Loki fangirls. Sorry. Please review!
We'll smile like pictures,
Of you as a boy,
Long before you retired,
To heavenly joy.
~The Black Keys
Breakfast food, Thor has decided, is really quite an extraordinary thing. And New Mexico is really doing it right.
Jane shows him how to make scrambled eggs. It takes a couple tries, but he gets to the point where he can apply a gentler touch to the spatula, instead of flinging the hot eggs at the ceiling. She shows him how to maneuver a device called a toaster. He asks her how it works.
"Magic," she replies simply, with an easy smile.
Taken at face value, he can return her grin with one of his own. But, for a prince of Asgard, the comment strikes close to home. While humans may be advanced in the art of preparing the morning meal, their acceptance of science and magic's coexistence is far from developed. And, of course, when Thor thinks of magic, his thoughts always return to his brother.
His observance of the earthmen has shown that when faced with uncomfortable or saddening thoughts, a profane word is often vocalized. Shit, he thinks. Yes, that has an alright ring to it.
"Shit," he says out loud.
"What?" says Jane.
"Nothing," he replies, not too keen on sharing his musings.
She raises a curious eyebrow, but eventually seems to dismiss it as his usual unusual behavior, as a Norse god stuck on earth. They divide up the four plates and she follows him over the table Erik and Darcy occupy. They smile at him for the effort, but seem a little weary of his cooking. But he doesn't pick up on it, already losing himself in recollections.
He dives into a little fantasy, improbable though it may be. The four of them back in Asgard, watching the fiery sunrise from a grand table, loaded with a spread of brilliant breakfast foods. His friends are there too, merry and home safe from another adventure. His father is alive and still king, his mother by his side at the head of the table. And Loki is smiling that one true smile of his, looking unburdened, for once in his life. Thor would tell him about this Facebook phenomenon that Darcy is talking about. He feels like Loki would enjoy that. And his younger brother would be quietly making Volstagg's fork disappear, and they'd laugh discreetly as the warrior resorted to eating pancakes with a spoon.
There would be no frost giants, no banishments, no death. All would be well.
He remembers Loki's expression, when he came to give him the news in his holding cell. Mournful, shoulders weighted with responsibility. Alone.
He barely has time to start eating, mind back in the present, when four Asgardian warriors are banging on the door. He speaks to them, and in the next few seconds he is reminded that Loki always was an excellent liar.
Thor may not have the best instincts when it comes to picking up on subtleties, but the sinking feeling in his gut is unmistakable.
m m m
If nothing else, he's brought breakfast food back to Asgard. It's not as good as he remembers it. Maybe it's foreign ingredients, or maybe it's just the fact that end result of everything does not live up to his fantasies.
He cannot return to earth. Jane waits for him, but she won't be able to find him. He yearns for the day, hopefully some day, when he'll eat eggs with her and Darcy and Erik again.
Loki is gone. Lost somewhere in the cosmos.
His closest friend. Traitor, evil mastermind.
Brother.
Heir to the throne of one of the greatest realms in the universe, and yet there's nothing to be done about any of it.