Author's Notes: This story is part of a series, from "The Prince Formerly Known as Loki".
"You really need to stop doing this," Loki panted. He was out of breath and his body ached all over.
Thor flashed his brother a self-satisfied grin in response. "Live a little once in a while. Admit it, you had fun," he said casually.
The two gods were at the observatory, splayed out on the floor in a messy, entwined heap. Loki and Thor were wearing bridal attire, with the thunderer still wearing his veil. Heimdall was trying his best not to laugh at the ridiculous sight before him. Loki shot the gatekeeper a dirty look, but his glare didn't look as menacing since his body and Thor's were in a position that was illegal in certain realms.
"Your idea of fun is vastly different from mine. I don't consider almost getting killed as 'living a little'," said Loki crossly. Thor was on top of him, and he tried shoving him off. It was like pushing a boulder; the god of thunder didn't even budge an inch. "Move, you oaf. I'm getting crushed here," he half whined, half yelled. Thor rolled away only after Loki started punching him in both kidneys.
Loki picked himself up and nearly fell down again. It was hard to walk since he was wearing a tight dress and covered in slimy fluid. He looked at his brother. Thor was just as filthy as he was.
The dresses were previously white, but now both were completely drenched in blood and Odin knows what else. Loki winced. The goddess of love was going to have one spectacular hissy fit once she sees her clothes had been ruined.
"Freya's going to kill us. No amount of magic can take all these stains out," Loki remarked, picking out bits of brain from the fabric.
Thor waved a hand idly. "Have the royal seamstresses make four gowns in recompense then." The thunderer got up and started walking towards the palace with a spring in his step, overjoyed that he had Mjolnir back.
That only made Loki's ire rise. The fool just brushed off their near-death experience as a trivial matter; Thor didn't learn anything from it at all. "You know, this wouldn't have happened if you took better care of your things," he called out after the thunderer.
Thor stopped and turned back, his face incredulous. "Brother, Thrym stole my hammer," he stated, as if it pretty much explained everything.
"Because you left Mjolnir somewhere after a night of drunken debauchery. You were so intoxicated that you forgot all about her," the trickster retorted accusingly. He snorted at Thor's sheepish expression. "Really, brother. You thought I wouldn't find out? I swear you'd lose your head if it wasn't already attached." Loki contemplated gluing Mjolnir to Thor's hand. Or his forehead.
"Are you angry because of the dresses? We can have one made especially for you," Thor said in a teasing tone. He looked at Loki from head to foot, his gaze mock appreciative. "You look rather fetching in a gown, if you don't mind me saying so."
Loki reddened. "What? Yes! I mean, no! That's not the point," he snapped. He couldn't believe that Thor had the gall to make fun of him, after saving his sorry hide once again. "Well, you make one lousy bride, bashing the groom's skull in even before you two had your honeymoon. I could tell Thrym was rather looking forward to showing you his own mighty hammer," the trickster shot back nastily.
The god of thunder blanched. The memory of the frost giant's lascivious face was going to haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Damned Jotun couldn't keep his hands to himself the whole feast; he had to suffer through the indignity of being molested the whole night. Thor wondered how women put up with it.
Loki was too incensed to be sympathetic. It was all Thor's fault anyway. His brother had been doing this since they were children; losing his toys, his homework, his weapons, pretty much everything he owned. He would sulk for a whole day, then beg and harass Loki to help him find it. This bizarre scavenger hunt had been going on for thousands of years already, and Loki was getting pretty damned tired of it. He always questioned how Thor was the older brother when he sure didn't act like one. Loki felt more like a babysitter than a prince most of the time, looking after his loose cannon of a sibling. "I'm not getting you a replacement Mjolnir. Those dwarves nearly killed me last time," he gritted out.
Thor merely gave Loki his most endearing smile, knowing that it usually pacified his brother when he was in a foul mood. It didn't work; it only made Loki more livid. Thor braced himself for the vituperation Loki would undoubtedly hurl at him any second now.
It didn't come. Thor opened one eye and saw Loki just standing there. He gave the trickster a confused look.
Loki sighed. "What's the point? Everything I say to you goes in one ear and out the other anyway." He ran a hand through his hair wearily. The god of mischief didn't appear angry anymore, just resigned.
"Someday you'll lose something very precious to you, and you'll never get it back."
Loki disappeared. Nobody could find him, not even Heimdall.
Thor recalled what his brother had said. He remembered ignoring Loki's caveat, thinking that the younger god was just being overly dramatic. The god of thunder had simply laughed and told Loki that it would never happen.
Who could blame him for thinking that way? The world had been laid at his feet the moment he was born; the might and riches of Asgard were his birthright. Whatever he wanted was given to him, and whatever he lost was quickly replaced with something better.
His brother had always told him he needed to be taken down a peg or two. And Loki did just that; he had ripped the ground underneath Thor.
Ever since he lost Loki he was disoriented and adrift, constantly searching for his anchor. It was as if the trickster took all the air with him and every breath felt like he was drowning.
"You proved your point. I get it. Please, come back now," Thor implored brokenly, as he stood alone on the Bifrost. He told himself over and over that this was merely one of Loki's tricks. This was a ploy to teach him a lesson, but it was downright cruel, even for the god of mischief.
Because somewhere along the way his want and need of Loki had blurred together, and he couldn't distinguish the two anymore.
