"Brother!"
The world around him was shifting lazily above his dimming eyes, as though he were in the eye of a slow moving tornado. A small disconnected piece of him could feel pain, but it was drifting away in the winds of this tornado. He blinked, trying hard to focus on the voice of his brother, but it too seemed drifting away in the spinning air. He tried to cling to the pain, tried to move in the sudden realization that he was dying. It all came back to him, he had been clever, just not quick enough. His hand shook as he raised it to his blurry eyes, covered in blood. It dripped from his fingers like thick syrup, but he didn't want to watch it anymore. He looked back up into the slowly moving tornado above him, he could see a winged bird flying quietly overhead.
"Brother!"
His voice was louder, the wind was blowing it away as it picked up with more and more ferocity. The bird was diving up and down into the wind stream, letting it be picked up and dropped down into the circle of wind.
He blinked again, it took much more effort this time to open his eyes. His brother, the god of thunder, kneeled over him, grabbing him up in desperate arms. He felt a drop of water fall across his cheek and be quickly swept away in the winds.
"My brother," he said, his voice clear despite all the static of the gale force winds. He wondered why his brother wasn't effected by the storm, his hair didn't move, his cape didn't swing in the wild ferocity picking up all around him.
"Loki, I am sorry," he said, more tears falling from his face and being swept away.
He tried to cling to the pain again, letting it shoot through him. He winced, his own eyes watering as he clutched the wound in his chest and pulled his body in to try and cover it. He did not want to die, he did not want to let go of the pain.
Sweet boy, you are dying. Say goodbye and we can leave this behind.
The falcon was at his other side, his brother seemed not to even see her though she clearly spoke to him.
"I love you, brother," Thor wept, laying his head down onto Loki's. Gods, he didn't want to speak. The falcon's eyes looked upon his so strangely human and calming, he knew what was happening. He let it go, let it all soar away into the eye of the storm. The falcon flexed her wings, casting shadow over him and his brother.
"And I you, brother," Loki managed to answer. Everything began to dim despite his best efforts, he grasped out toward his brother, grabbing a handful of his hair as he continued to weep. The falcon took flight, it's wing stretching out and encompassing the whole of the sky. Everything went dark.
His eyes opened suddenly, a gentle light poured down on him before he was blinded by excruciating pain.
"Please stop this!"
His father, Odin stood over him, his face strained as he looked down at the agonizing sight. Loki's eyes poured tears, he could not control it. His body had shielded him from this with shock, numbed him from the gaping wound in his chest that he thought had killed him. Yet here he was in waking, living, unbearable pain.
"It will stop when you let him go, Odin," the falcon's voice, off and out of sight to his left, stated plainly. He could feel Odin stomp his foot, wringing his hands out toward her. Loki tried to blink away the streaming tears of pain to see anything more clearly. He was no longer on Earth, he could see a tall arching ceiling of gold plated brick above him. This was not Asgard, either.
"He died a warrior's death, he saved his brother. I demand he come home to me, to Valhalla!"
So he was dead, yet the pain was unreal. He clutched his side, writhing in agony, biting down in an attempt not to scream.
"You cannot demand of me, Odin. You recall our bargain. The longer you delay his peace, the longer he will lay in my hall bleeding to death," the voice of the falcon said.
"He is my son," Odin pleaded, his voice breaking. Loki opened his eyes, seeing his father's face streaming tears as he knelt down next to him. A figure cloaked in snowy white silk knelt down at his other side, lowering the hood. He had seen this woman before, her long silken blonde hair and the piercing blue eyes of the falcon.
"I am not fond of watching this boy die for an eternity, Odin. Let him go," she said sternly, as though scolding a child. Her hand reached down, touched Loki's face. It was warm, kind, brought a comfortable numb over him. He reached up his shaking, bloody hand and put it over hers, letting the warmth spread through him more quickly. She smiled kindly down at him.
"It will break Frigga's heart if I don't bring him home," Odin whispered, looking down at Loki despairingly.
"He is already home. Let him rest, his pain is unimaginable."
The front of her silken cloak was staining a brilliant red, yet she kept her hand firm onto his face with no show of pain; she was shedding her own blood to spare him his. This was true magic, the highest kind of magic.
"Forgive me, Loki," Odin said, reaching out to touch Loki. Everything was dimming again, the golden ceiling and the woman were disappearing before him. He blinked, trying to look toward his father, openly weeping at his side just as his brother had done. This was death. He was home.