Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or any of the characters present in this story. I only own the plot.
Thor Odinson had experienced a range of countless injuries in his lifetime. Thousands of blows to his face and body trailed small bruises and scabs over the man's light skin, while sharp kicks left yellow ringed bruises and broken blood vessels in their wake. Within days, however, terrible bruises and gashes always faded as Thor's skin gently mended itself back together. The phenomena was normal for an Asgardian, as their heightened immune system and healing capabilities were part of the perks of immortality and God-hood.
One man that Thor knew personally had gotten into a brawl with a fearsome frost giant over a stolen relic from Jotunheim. The battle was a fierce one, but in the end, the giant put his knife through the Asgardian's body, and Thor had rushed him back to healers at the palace, broken and bleeding. The man miraculously lived (a mortal certainly would not have) and has been telling his story ever since. Cocky bastard, that one.
Essentially, Asgardians are quite difficult to damage, and when they do get hurt, they recover quickly and easily.
So with that logic, why was Thor on the ground in his room weeping into his brother's horned helmet? Asgardians were supposed to regenerate, so why was Thor still finding it hard to move? The battles against the Dark Elves ended weeks ago, yet he pain in the young princes' chest was so very real, even though the flesh there was unmarred and healthy.
A strangled sob left Thor's throat as he squeezed his eyes shut, desperately attempting to banish the new surge of unbearable pain that washed through his body at the memory of his brother being destroyed in front of his very eyes. Thor should have told Loki that he loved him one last time. He should have let himself trust his own brother. Thor could remember the days when the two got into countless squabbles over Loki's natural tendencies to piss Thor off in any way possible. The prince could even remember the day his parents had brought Loki home as a tiny baby, swaddled in a soft green length of silk - the exact shade of the child's eyes. And when said eyes turned to Thor for the first time with a fierce intelligence that sparkled within the mossy depths, the prince could remember feeling an intense wave of protectiveness move through him. They had loved each other so much back then.
But weeks ago, Thor was blinded by Loki's past faults and failed to see the truth behind those cunning green eyes - love and trust. Through Thor's own haze of anger and hurt, he had let his brother down; forced him to commit the ultimate sacrifice. And now he had lost his chance to apologize, or mend, or do ANYTHING and it was so unbelievably unfair that the breath in Thor's lungs felt like it suddenly weighed one million pounds.
And the worst part was; The God of Thunder couldn't do a single thing about it. The damage would not mend.
A body cloaked in silver and red jerked pitifully on the intricately tiled ground as its wounds continued to fester.
Author's Note: Hey readers! I thought I would do a little one shot about how Thor feels after giving up the crown and dealing with the "death" of his brother. I have possible ideas for this story to continue - though they are still in their simplest form. If you think that I should continue this story, let me know in the comments or PM me - I would love to collaborate. Anyways thank you for reading and please R+R! - Maddie