The cell is beautiful in a way that is meant to be entirely mocking. The setting sun casts orange light onto the marble floor and metallic furnishings. The frame of his bed, which is large enough for six men, glints and reflects light against a marble bookcase, filled with books he'd tired of reading long ago.
He is so very tired.
Weary eyes trail from his ornate chair in the corner of the room over to the window. It seems like another punishment, the taunting view of the golden kingdom, just outside of his reach. He was the King of it once, for a while. And despite all his suffering and the cruelty shown to him, he cannot not wish for its demise like he does for Earth's. It is the only home he's ever really known.
How long has it been since he's left the room and seen the city beyond the glass? Certainly it has longer than a month now.
Loki's shackles rattle like metal snakes, slinking along after him as he stands and approaches the large window.
The drapes screech in protest as their thick, metal hangers scrape along the bar with forceful coaxing from Loki's hand. He tires of this view also. His hand grips at the rich green curtains, shoulders tense and hunched. Only a few trails of dull light sneak past the heavy fabric as he lets his hand slip away.
Darkness. That is something he feels more comfortable with. Loki is the darkness to balance Thor's light. If he is ice then Thor is fire. Silver tongued Loki and the golden son, Thor.
The victor is never given silver. And so Loki was always destined to fall into second place.
The lesser son. The shadow cast by Thor's greatness.
His spiky black eyelashes are fanned low as he bitterly thinks of his 'brother'. At first he counted his blessings that Thor stayed away from him. He thought it was wise for him to not be in his presence. But as the days wore on and his company remained solitary, he began to question his whereabouts. Thor has never been able to avoid him for long.
Perhaps he has finally given up on Loki, he thinks bitterly. And suddenly he needs to sit down again as iciness crawls over him and into his chest. His bed is so very inviting, even if it was made for more than one person.
He will never admit to being lonely.
He isn't afraid of what will come next. He knows his execution cannot be delayed for long. Even the Prince of Asgard (who was never really the King's son) can't get away with what he's done. Loki doesn't regret it though. Not really.
If nothing else he's proven to Odin that he is strong. He could have been King. He could have been a pretty good King if he'd been given the chance.
The game hadn't been fair though.
He still can't hate Thor for that. Of course he does hate Thor, but not because he was the golden son. It is because he had always thought of Loki as second to him and knew what was best for them both. He had never asked Loki for his permission, only ever for his advice and he had rarely taken that.
Thor always stole the glory; he always had to beat Loki. Even on Earth, he had to win. And for what? He'd already taken the throne of Asgard from him. But he needed to have Earth too apparently. Or did he just want Earth for Jane Foster? Loki isn't sold on that.
He hates Thor but he misses him.
There is so much to miss. They had grown up together and at times they'd only had each other's company. No one understood what it was like to be them, but them. Two princes. They'd done everything together from training and studying to bathing and sleeping.
Thor had other friends. He had Sif and the warriors three. But Loki was his best friend. And Loki only needed one friend although he'd had others at times. They had not stayed long though.
He certainly doesn't have friends anymore. Who is left to mourn him?
Why is the council still negotiating his death? He should be in Niflheim now.
He supposes they want him to reflect on his transgressions. Unfortunately he can't regret them. Most of them anyway.
There is a click from behind him and Loki sits up, swinging his legs over the bed to greet the man he's sure has been sent to bring him his meals. Not such a talkative fellow, despite Loki's jabs and jests he remained silent each time he entered.
But it is not the young guard. Instead he finds Thor. And he's not sure what to say because it's Thor. Thor who hasn't visited him once for a month. Oh. But, has it been a month?
He looks the same. He's wearing his armour which seems almost like it is strained against his muscles, and his cape is as vibrant as ever.
"Loki…" His voice is a quiet rumble, like distant thunder and the sound is so familiar and sweet that Loki wants to ask him to say his name again.
"I was wondering when you'd grace me with your every wonderful presence." He doesn't sound quite as surly as he'd like, but Thor seems hurt anyway. That's all that matters really. "Why now, dear Thor? Come to say goodbye?"
Thor breaks more quickly than he'd intended.
Mjolnir slips from Thor's calloused fingers and lands on the floor with a heavy thud. And then he does something Loki doesn't expect, he takes a few determined steps towards him and throws his arms around Loki's middle, instantly burying his face into the crook of his neck.
When it comes to matters of the heart, Thor has always been weaker.
"…Thor, you may have abandoned your pride, but I still have mine. If you wish to coddle someone buy yourself a whore." He pushes at Thor's chest instinctively but finds himself clung onto tighter.
The behaviour is unusual and honestly frightening. There's no point competing in a match of strength with him. Loki stops struggling for the moment and lets him keep the embrace until Thor pulls back. His eyes which the Jotun knows to have always been so bright, like the skies of Asgard, are dull and red.
It catches Loki off guard, noticing that red. Like Thor has been crying.
Loki's heart skips a beat. "The Allfather?" Is his first guess, the man is so sickly at times and it is expected that his death might upset Thor as it would many others. Loki tells himself he would rejoice in that death, but in truth the very thought fills causes his chest to ache in protest.
Thor simply shakes his head and looks at Loki, really looks at him.
Oh.
"Can you see that the executioner is not some commoner? I'd like it to be over quickly." Loki says it as if teasing although his request is entirely serious. Thor Looks completely lost. "And for my final meal I would like a tub full of pudding, the one Herdis makes." Herdis is Loki's favourite royal chef and the only one who would tolerate his presence in the kitchen. He had never liked playing tricks with her because it meant no dinner, and her food had always been so very good.
Thor doesn't seem amused and Loki isn't surprised, but the silence is ridiculous. He has come to despise the silence when he's alone. He doesn't need silence when Thor's here to keep him company. "You came here to speak with me, Thor. Silence is ill suited to you." He tries to meet Thor's eyes by leaning over but when he does Thor turns away. "Thor." He snaps, demanding his attention but is ignored again. "If you do not wish to speak then leave. Your presence is disturbing." Loki stand and paces to the door which he knows he can't touch unless he feels like being knocked out for the next hour.
With Thor here it doesn't seem like too undesirable an option.
"I am sure you have dreamed of this for longer than you will admit to yourself." Loki spits words like venom at him and Thor looks up as if he's been struck by those words. "I am removed. The throne is yours and I cannot oppose you."
Thor stares again and this time Loki can't help but let pride twist at his mouth bitterly. "Speak or be gone!"
"There is nothing I can do." He says slowly and Loki realises too soon that Thor is crying again and he shouldn't be. No one should mourn him, least of all his brother. He's betrayed him, wounded him, tried to kill him…. Twice. How can he still cry for Loki?
"You pleaded for me." It's not a question because Loki knows Thor is too good to accept his execution. "Did you come here for thanks? You won't receive it."
Thor stands before him again and looks at him with such undisguised anguish that for the first time since arriving back in Asgard he lets tears pool into the corner of his own eyes, staring into Thor's. "I am not so foolish that I would ask for it." He digs a key from his pocket and holds his hand out for Loki who doesn't hesitate to place one dainty wrist in his hand.
The weights from the shackles leave raw marks on his wrists but he's relieved to see them go. Thor throws them into one corner as if disgusted by them. "So you truly have come to say goodbye. With no news?"
"That is not why I have come." He swallows thickly. Loki can feel the ghost of his breath against his face and sighs, relenting, he leans his forehead against Thor's chest. He's tired of fighting and of hating him. "The method they have chosen to execute with… I won't allow it."
And now it's Loki's turn to fall silent again, eyes widening against his chest. He had not given much thought to it. Beheading was the only way Asgardians had ever been executed. Oh, but he isn't an Asgardian. How does an Asgardian kill a Jotun? It is not a pretty thought for a Frost Giant.
"What?" His voice sounds small even to his own ears but Thor hears him anyway and wraps one arm around his back.
"I am so sorry Loki…" He feels something splash, wet against his neck. Thor is crying again. "You're my little brother and I cannot save you from this." Only Loki was never his brother and Thor has never really had to protect him.
Loki pushes him back gently so that he can look at his face again. Bloodshot eyes, creases in his forehead… lines in his face, when had his youth started to fade? Loki doesn't know. "It was never your job to protect me. My decisions were my own and I am not your brother." Despite his icy words he doesn't mean to hurt Thor anymore, he cups the back of his neck gently and Thor mirrors him. Loki's thumb brushes the soft wisps of hair at the base of his neck and offers him a sad smile.
"So how are they going to do it?"
Thor's lips curve down, and his expression darkens if that is possible. He shakes his head. He can't say it. Loki knows if it's torture then it will surely last for days. Maybe it is better that he doesn't know.
"Loki, I am sorry." He drags him forward, pressing their foreheads together and closes his eyes to the rest of the world. There is no one but them in this moment.
Loki lets the first tear fall and then lets it stain his cheek. "Me too…" He's not sure that he is sorry, but his chest feels tight in fear and sorrow and something else he won't really allow himself to identify. Love perhaps?
He still loves Thor. Thor is still his brother and his best friend. Thor has always outshone him but he's also always been there, dragging him into the light with him so that he can catch a glimpse of the glory that comes with just being Thor.
It's painful thinking how they've grown apart and suddenly Loki forgets his hatred and anger and all of Thor's wrongdoings. How could he have tried to kill him?
Thor is destined for so much greatness and Loki won't be there to see it. His coronation where he would have stood beside him, Loki would happily have accepted a lower position now. His wedding day, where he would have surely been Thor's best man, grinning and rolling his eyes through the ceremony. His children… Thor's own family which he would not have been related to but could have learned to love as easily as he loves Thor.
"I am truly sorry Thor…" He sobs and then they're both lost, clinging to each other and choking back whimpers; trying not to shudder.
"Shh…" Thor hushes Loki and gently threads his fingers through raven hair, collecting himself after some time for long enough to mutter. "I won't let them hurt you…"
And Loki understand why Thor is here. It's not to say goodbye. His purpose is not so innocent. "Make it fast." He trembles, pulling back to stare Thor in the eyes again and make sure he can really do this.
Thor is completely broken and it hurts him to see. They are breaking each other apart, but it will be over for him soon.
Mjolnir comes when Thor calls for her with an outstretched hand. He brushes the hair from Loki's face and cups the back of his head, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead.
Loki opens his mouth but closes it when the tears start again. He shakes his head. Thor waits patiently for him to speak. For Loki to be ready.
"I'm about to die… and I have lost my words. Those are all I really had left." His forehead creases as a pained smile breaks across his face. "I have nothing left Thor… this is how it should be." He crosses the room, pulling away from the Aesir as he does and sits at the marble table, brushes his hair back. He lays his cheek down against the cold surface, hair haloed beneath him.
It hits them both again that they're about to do this. "Thor," Loki's voice is barely a whisper and his expression is that of pure terror. Without missing a beat Thor is at his side to comfort him. "Hold my hand." Again, he doesn't hesitate, clasping their hands together firmly. Loki takes a deep breath and shudders. "Thank you."
Thor stands and looks down at his little brother. The one he helped teach how to walk. The one who he read to until Loki could read to him. The one who he trained to fight and praised every time he was able to land a hit.
His precious little brother.
Loki closes his eyes and lets his last breath fall away.
Thor brings his hammer up.
I wrote this a week ago when I was a little down. I think Thor is OOC, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway!