Partly inspired by Frozen (and a long lasting plot bunny of mine).

Disclaimer: I do not own Loki, Thor and any other characters that show up here, as that right belongs to Marvel.

Warning - Implied and vaguely shown domestic and emotional abuse. Please do not read if you think it will trigger you. Your health comes first.

The Art of Disappearing

(as Perfected by Thor Odinson)

When Loki revealed himself, it seemed like the whole world had flipped itself upside down.

It had been so painful the first time around.

(being called to the Bifrost by Heimdall, daring to go outside after days of laying curled up in his bed, comforted by the warmth his covers gave him. going weak in the knees when he heard what the gatekeeper had to say, mouth going so dry he could barely make a sound. there had been so much whirling through his mind, but not a single way for him to express it.)

The second time -

The second time had been so much more than unbearable.

Had Thor not gone through enough? He had been expected to go to Midgard, nary a week since he had been told of Loki's status and had barely moved on, to clean up the mess his brother had swept up while dealing with the judgement of the so-called Avengers. He hadn't even been allowed the privilege of visiting Jane.

And let's not forget dealing with Malekith. He had taken everything away from him. He murdered his beloved mother. Thor couldn't even let himself properly mourn her, instead bottling it inside. Like the crown heir is expected to do.

(but had Thor not been so ignorant as to chase after the damned elf, maybe he would've been quick enough to do something that could save Frigga.

no, no. no point thinking about it. she's -)

He had made Loki sacrifice himself. Thor had to go through Loki's death twice now, and it had almost broken him in ways he had never even imagined.

(it had been worse than last time. his lack of appetite made him lose muscle mass by the minute and his skin had turned deathly pale, until Jane had almost resorted to begging him to eat and he finally agreed if only to soothe the heart of the one person he had left. it took so much effort just to stand, and lets not talk about the nights where Jane had to pry blades from his hands and wash his bloody palms.

oh Jane.

what she had gone through because of him)

But Loki wasn't dead. No, he was standing before him, wearing Odin's armour and holding Gungnir in his hand.

Thor's mind was emptied of all conflicting feelings, resigning him to staring without a single thought in his head. All he could comprehend was that one moment his father had been staring him down and then, he had somehow morphed into Loki.

And everything he had been hiding came flooding back.

"Why?" He moaned out, a pained expression on his face. His fists were clenched and his arms had crossed his chest. Thor had hunched over, and felt tears come on.

(stop it he doesn't deserve it he doesn't deserve it stop)

Loki removed the horned helm, and sighed, "Oh, Thor. You're more ignorant than I thought. For the throne, of course. It was always about the throne, and I haven't even mentioned the sweet taste of revenge." He gave a smile in Thor's direction that made him want to vomit, and instead made him back up against the wall of his bedroom.

"And there's no reason to worry about your wretched sire. Odin is dead, by my hand." Loki said nonchalantly, casually looking over Thor.

There were several moments of silence, only broken by his attempts to keep sobs at bay.

(he had never been close with his father. he had barely had any contact with him, besides the scoldings and warnings. so why was he so upset?)

He gasped for a moment and then quietly said, "You do such terrible things, Loki. Why do you do them? What did I do?" His tone was almost pleading.

Loki scoffed and said, "Don't be so vain. Not everything I do is because of you. Your father did enough to deserve death, so I gave him what he deserved." He leaned against the wall, looking down at him with such a pleased expression that it made Thor want to grab a knife and stick it in his face.

Though it was a wonder that Heimdall hadn't noticed this. He thought that by now there would be a horde of guards at the doorway, but not a person was in sight and not a sound to be heard apart from the ongoing conversation.

And all of a sudden, the small smirk disappeared to make way for a terrifying glare that cut him to the bone. Loki lurched forward and clenched his chin in his hands hissing, as if he read Thor's mind, "You won't dare say a word to anyone about this. From this moment onwards, you are under house arrest. A single step out of the Royal Wing, a single vowel said to anyone other than me, and you'll regret it for weeks, and don't bother about the Gatekeeper. He won't doubt a thing."

Thor was shoved to the floor, hard enough to knock the wind out of him, tried his best to regain breathing privileges.

As he stared at the cold, marble ground beneath him, he listened to the taps of Od - no, Loki's shoes until it slowly faded away before he dragged himself to his bed.

Why had he been told? Why couldn't Loki just keep Thor out of his business? Certainly, he would've been better off unaware.

But evidently, Loki had told him despite of all the reasons not to, and there was nothing he could do now. It was rather difficult to unhear what has been heard, especially for a person with no outstanding magical abilities other than his thunder and rain. He could hear one brewing outside.

He was halfway onto his bed when he gave up and just lay there, his face towards the window above his bed and his arms beneath his face. It was already far past night, the sky such a shade of blue that it suggested midnight.

And against his will, Thor felt his eyes droop. Deciding sleep was a welcome relief, he let his eyes close and let it overcome him.

The next time they opened, his vision was bleary and he could only just make out rays of light falling on maroon covers. He made a small noise of confusion - he wasn't usually in such a position when it came to things like this but every atom of his body was crying out in protest when he hauled himself up, for a strong desire to rest.

He stood there for a moment, gripping the edge of his tunic in a death hold and slowly, but surely, remembered the events of last night and more questions popped up on the topic of Thor's reaction.

Wasn't he supposed to be happy? Pushing Loki's own response aside, shouldn't he be filling up with relief, that his brother wasn't dead? Thor should be feeling anything, anything, except this numbness, shouldn't he?

The blonde was broken out of his thoughts, realising that he could smell food inside his chamber. He turned his head to where the scent was strongest and saw a tray on his desk, consisting of bread, water, and an apple.

It was possibly the plainest breakfast he had ever seen, and he soon found out that it was be the blandest one he had ever eaten.

Biting into the stale bread, Thor recalled Loki's words from last night and wondered if what he had said was true. Should he risk going to Heimdall, or indeed the first guard he found? Or just stay where he was? His breath quickened, the insanity of the situation catching up to him.

Thor almost doubled over.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Loki wasn't supposed to be alive, his father was never meant to die so early. And he should be well on his way to Jane by now, who would've been expecting him for a few hours now. It was enough to make him want to cry. In such a short span of time, so much had changed.

(you already know that not everything that is a 'should' comes true)

Loki was alive. Odin was dead.

His brain was stuck on those two sentences. Loki couldn't be alive, Thor had held him in his arms and comforted him in his last moments and sobbed over his body. It simply couldn't be true. And Odin couldn't be dead. Because Thor had talked with him just last night, about a small riot going on in Alfheim and how to deal with it, and he had been very much alive.

But Loki had revealed it had been him all along, hadn't he? So how long had he worn that crown, not a person suspecting? Since he 'died', or a little while after? For how many conversations had Thor been speaking to Loki, and not his father?

It made his head spin and he actually had to balance himself so he wouldn't fall over.

The door slammed open instantaneously, redirected his focus to the figure in the doorway. Speak of the devil, as Jane told him once.

Od - Loki peered at him, a questioning expression on his face, and said, "I see you're finally awake. You were taking forever, if you wanted to know," He closed the door and leaned on them.

"You must be brimming with confusion." Loki said, coolly, "Let's have a nice question and answer session, Thor. What's your first question?" He cocked his head, in a manner similar to a bird, and stared intently at Thor.

The thunder god gaped and said,"Why did you have to tell me?"

Od - Loki nodded in understanding and shrugged, saying, "Well, you were going to find out sooner or later, by external sources if you didn't realise on your own. I figured why shouldn't it be me? Besides, you were already suspecting something was off, weren't you? I was just speeding up the process."

He wasn't entirely wrong. Thor had been noticing bizarre behaviour and even asked the All-Father if something was wrong but he would never have been able to unwind a conspiracy as thick as this.

Od - Loki walked over to where he was and slowly started circling, as if he was a vulture flying around a soon-to-be dead prey.

"You won't be able to hide forever, Loki. Someone will notice. It won't be long before it's Heimdall and the Head Guard," Thor said, trying not be off put by his brothers strange actions -

A rough hand shot out and grabbed him by the neck, and Loki hissed, "How dare you underestimate me. You would think," The grip tightened enough to make Thor gasp, "that after all this time," he was flung to corner of the room, "you would know better!"

Thor landed in a heap, heaving for air, and could feel a painful ache spread through his side. He brought a hand to it and struggled to get up, his attempts hindered by a heavy foot slamming onto his back.

He turned his head just in time to see Loki grab a translucent object and hurl it at the space just above his head. Shutting his eyes, Thor heard glass shatter and felt shards fall upon him, aware of an array of sharp stings on his face and on the back of his hands.

Wincing in pain, Thor could only lay there, surrounded by glass fragments and blink at his bleeding hands. He was vaguely aware of Loki lowering himself down to his level and raising Thor up to his lap and was conscious of the fact that he was no more in Odin's large figure, and instead donning a more welcomed costume and face.

He could hear Loki whispering apologies into his ear and unconsciously, Thor clutched onto the leather clothing and breathed in the smell of ink and cinders. He noticed that he was being held as well and, despite the glass digging through his clothes, moved on to a fuller embrace.

It was decidedly hard to get into a pattern. Sometimes Thor would see Loki - or Odin - three or four times a day and at other times, he wouldn't catch a glimpse for a week or more. Most of the time he was just roaming the halls, looking for something to spend his time with.

It was especially frustrating because he was torn between anticipating each of Loki's visit and dreading them since there was always something he had to get out, wether it was the unexpected difficulties in faking kingship or an unresolved issue between him and Thor.

And in one way or another, it was usually Thor on the receiving on of the fury, whether it had to with words or things on a more physical nature and it was just so frustrating because he wanted to stay mad but Loki kept apologising and it made everything so confusing.

Yesterday he was left with crescent moon imprints on his wrist -

(The grip almost unbearable, one of the worst he had come across and Thor was stuck trying to pry Loki's fingers off, under his cold stare. It was just a question, he hadn't mean for him to get so mad)

and the days before Thor was gifted hurtful words-

("What a moronic dignitary! I swear, he was more dense than you and that's saying something."

"You're selfish, Thor. Did you know that? You pushed me off the rainbow bridge! What did I ever do to deserve that? Do you hate me that much?")

- but he forgave and forgot because Loki said sorry. It was such a childish reason, he felt like hitting himself on the head. But then again, it wasn't as bad as it could be.

Currently, Thor was pacing the hallways, looking for something to distract himself with. The sunlight passing through the curtains glinted off the gold decoration on the wall, making everything look bright and cheery, opposite from his present feelings. It even succeeded in bringing a smile out of him.

Thor came to a stop in front of a shining staircase, knowing well where they led and climbing them nonetheless. Thor glanced at the paintings decorating the walls at the sides, one of children playing and another of a women unleashing powers of fire and ice, and slowly came to a stop at a set of elaborately carved doors. He knew, from examining them as a child, that they told stories.

Stories of people overcoming fear, stories of giants facing prejudice, stories of family, and stories of love. But he had no interest in them for now. Thor pushed open the doors and looked inside.

The room was bare, most of the furniture and finery sent to Valhalla, along with Mother, and there was almost nothing left except for the bed, desk, and wardrobe. He peered and stepped inside, strolling around the large chamber.

Everything was so familiar to him. The bed where he had fallen asleep, because Frigga was visiting her family in Vanaheim and he had been plagued with nightmares that night.

The desk where he and Loki had studied together, as renovations were being done on their room (due to a nasty experiment gone wrong).

The wardrobe where Thor and Loki would hide when Frigga was being the seeker in their hiding game.

He sighed, welcome memories flooding him.

Thor lolled his head, basking in the warmth and comfort, and by chance his eyes blinked in the direction of the wall where the wardrobe stood. He straightened his body, curiosity taking hold, and wondered if Mother's secret stash of healing stones and potions were still there.

From sneaking around when he was younger and an exasperated mother who finally answered his suspicions, he knew there was a little safe in the very back of Frigga's wardrobe. Murmur a few words and the wood would open up to reveal hordes of magical objects in the wall, and it was impossible to find unless someone told you how, and what to say.

Did she tell the servants? Or has it been left untouched?

He hurried over and opened the dark pine doors, sticking his head inside the empty cabinet. It was quite big, almost a walk in closet, but he still had to mind his head as he tip-toed inside the dark doorway. It wasn't long before his hand touched the smooth back.

Thor cleared his throat and muttered, "For min vilje og bruk," and watched a portion of the wood clear away. It seemed that the safe had been left untouched, judging by the many bottles and pouches lying inside.

He gave a small smile and outstretched his hand to pick up the first vial he saw - which was a potion for forgetfulness thanks to the description on the glass. It either made people forget bad experiences or helped people with poor memory, depending on the need. Another vial declared that it healed internal bleeding, and another cured insomnia.

The more advanced and darker objects sat at the very back. Thor found that one pouch full of colourful powder was poison, making it an ideal weapon for an assassin. Another held stones that worked similar to a Midgard grenade. But what caught his eye was a large vial of opaque, black liquid that lay in a corner.

With closer inspection, it simply claimed to 'give beings their greatest desire'. How vague.

So it was one of those potions. Thor had heard stories of them before, where people used it to run away from impossibly high debts and the like. Mother always tutted at them, at their bad decisions and told him that using magic to run away from your problems was a cowardly thing to do, even if you succeeded. Which brought on the question - why did she have such a despised concoction in her safe?

But an abrupt, intense desire to drink it all up right then and there overcame Thor. Oh, how blissful it would be to just make a wish and get away from all this, and go back to Midgard! From the cruelty of Loki's mind games, from the worry of the throne, from this terrible life that had been sought up for him. His hand was halfway from removing the cap before his mind caught up with him.

What was he thinking? Would he really desert Sif and the Warriors Three, leaving them to mourn at the hands of Loki, masquerading as the king? Would he give up the satisfying conversations with Heimdall? No, he was being stupid. Duller than that dignitary Loki mentioned once.

But for some reason, he had no desire to let go of the vial. It could be such a dangerous weapon in the right hands - one could wish for death of themselves or another, for a weapon to destroy the world and whatnot - it was better if Thor took care of it, keeping it safe in his own room where no one would find it.

(Three days later found Thor doubling over in pain, clutching his possibly sprained arm, and Loki by his side vomiting sorry's and I wasn't thinking's. There were tears filling up both of their eyes and it took all of Thor's efforts to let Loki take his arm and heal it, resisting the urge to hug it instead.

"Thor, I'm sorry. I didn't know this would happen, I was just going to -," Loki said rushingly before Thor cut him off.

"I understand. Besides," He managed a humorous tone, "there isn't much point in apologising now, is there?"

Loki smiled down at him, sending spirals of silver around his forearm, turning the pain into a slight throb.)

Not long after, Thor was nursing a bruised cheek and staring up at the ceiling from his position in bed and wondering if the palace had ever been this boring when he was younger. It felt like he had read everything he could find and analysed every painting he had come across, glided through every hall and climber every pillar.

There was almost nothing else for him to do and any question he asked Loki regarding visiting the gardens, at least, was met with a snap. There weren't even any guards or servants roaming for him to talk to, and how that was possible he had no idea. They were usually a constant presence from his experience.

It felt he had been tossed into the deepest pits of Hel. It was in his nature to be surrounded by people, to talk to and listen as well, and to be cut off from them so suddenly was simply depressing.

Thor's mind wandered to Jane.

Oh, what was going through her head right now? Was she frantic over Thor's whereabouts, or was she spending her time with an impersonation of him? She may suspect, but Jane might just blame it on the events in Svartalfheim. His heart ached at the thought, that he could be trapped here and no one would ever know the truth.

Thor sat up and and mentally shook his head. After all, there was little point in thinking like this. He sighed and his eyes wandered to his bedside table - to the vial that was hidden in the bottom drawer - and asked himself if he would ever be able to forget about that thing.

It had been nagging at him at the back of his mind for days now and he was seriously considering pouring it into a drink to see if it would work. What was the harm? Chances were that it had stopped working, as many potions turned such a shade of black were expired, so there was almost no chance of a desire of his actually coming true.

And he wasn't really known for being the brightest paint in the set, so if he, say, fell sick because of some side affect, he could say he thought he was drinking some sort of sleeping potion for his insomnia and he had no idea it was past consummation date. The only thing Loki would suspect was why he had insomnia in the first place.

(it wasn't a lie though. he hadn't slept a minute in a week, and even for an asgardian that was pushing it.)

Thor reached to the side and pulled open the heavy drawer, grabbing the vial, black liquid sloshing against the crystal walls. His grasp on the tiny bottle was strong, his hand white at the edges, and even his free palm was fisted into his covers.

Swallowing, he hesitatingly brought up his hand to remove the glass cover and with a strong flick of his thumb pushed it off. Thor took a deep breath and broke into a coughing fit, as the smell the potion gave out reeked like death and that was impressive - he had seen his share of dead bodies.

(you're fool, you're fool, only a fool would risk doing something like this)

And without missing a beat, Thor pinched his nose and swallowed the cold, thick fluid in one go. It went down slowly, coating his throat and oesophagus, which only meant he tasted more of the disgusting drink.

Thor shuddered, but other than that, could feel no other outstanding effect. He paused for a moment, staring at the empty container and sighed. He lightly threw it back into its drawer and used his foot to slam it shut.

Turning his head and peeking through the curtains, he confirmed that he was indeed still in Asgard. Quietly groaning, the god curled underneath his quilt and prayed for some sleep to take his mind off of his worries.

Thor refused to admit that he had been hoping, just the tiniest bit, that the potion would succeed.

It was a large field. Bucket after bucket of rain was pouring down, lightning flashing and thunder growling periodically.

"What do you want, Thor Odinson?" The tall, curvy figure said, staring at him expectantly.

He had no clue who the queenly presence was, who the lady with skin of scorched wood was but Thor was on his knees in the mud, looking up at the woman who desired an answer, and said, "Jane. I want to live in Midgard with Jane."

"You truly do love her, Thor. And I would not mind letting you two live your lives together and in peace, but," The woman gazed down at him, "I am here to grant you your greatest desire and you're holding back."

"What more could I possibly want?" Thor said, surprised, and was affronted when a look of amusement passed over the lady's face.

She patiently said, "My dear, you wouldn't be at peace. Maybe for the first few years, but it wouldn't be long before your heart would be burdened once again with thoughts of Asgard's future and your brother."

"What are you saying?" Confused, Thor asked.

The woman paused, making the howling winds apparent, and quietly said, "Thor Odinson does not want to be reminded of Asgard and Loki ever again. He may want to spend the rest of his years with his loved ones, but his need for total stability is far stronger. Thor Odinson wants to run away, to break free, and start anew."

He froze for a moment before he furiously shook his head. He could never leave his friends and family like that.

The lady knelt down to his level and took his chin in her hands, more gently compared to what he was expecting.

"Why do you flinch, God of Thunder? What did you think I was going to do?" She softly said, fingers examining the bruise on his cheekbone, "Your brother gave this to you, didn't he? I would suggest accepting my offer on that basis alone. I know Loki, he is not the kind boy he once was, and I think you understand that best."

Thor's mind was screaming for him to get away from the unknown woman, but her touch was smooth and welcoming and it had been so long since he'd felt something this consoling and he found himself leaning into her hand.

"You've been hurt, trodden and pushed around. Wouldn't you like to finally get away from the duties of the crown prince?" She said curiously, but not at all surprised when Thor nodded and sighed, closing his eyes.

He immediately opened them, an answer dawning on him. "I would. I'm so tired. Tired of everything." He whispered, "You would take that away, wouldn't you? Give me a new life?"

A look of pity flashed across her dark brown eyes, and the woman said, "I would, gladly. You accept?"

Hesitating, Thor nodded and felt her long fingers reach down and brush over his heart.

"What's your name?" He asked, just as she closed her eyes to focus better.

A small smile appeared on her previously emotionless face and after a second, she looked at him and stood up, straightening her emerald gown.

"This time tomorrow, you will be far from Asgard. Do not fear, I will be watching over you, as I always have. Be brave, Thor Odinson, in the face of the unknown." She turned to walk away but Thor shouted after her.

"Who are you?" He almost pleaded.

The lady paused, turning to face him and Thor saw an expression of unexplainable deep sorrow. She quietly said, "I am Gaea, goddess of life and earth." At the moment, it looked like she was about to add something but decided not to.

"I can't give you complete faith that Loki won't find you again, but I will do my best to protect you. Remember, do not panic in the next few moments despite how scary they may seem. I will see you soon"

He was just about to get up and run after her -

Thor sat up, a scream just about to escape his lips. He was clutching his quilt to his chest and he could feel sweat on his face. Sitting there, trying to reclaim as much breath as possible, he could hear a storm brewing outside. Thunder cracked, jolting Thor out of his stupor.

He pushed the covers off and stood up, glancing around the dark room, still gasping for air. Moonlight was shining through the windows, allowing him to see the outline of the furniture and keep from hitting himself on anything.

Thor was just about to enter the hallway, where there would be torches for more light, when he noticed the absurd coldness of the floor and looked down. He could see streaks of white escaping from under his bare feet.

Ice.

All of a sudden, it was harder to breathe.

Frantically turning around, he saw explosions of frost on the floor and walls, growing by each passing minute. Thor stumbled and a hand brushed on his desk, which resulted in spirals of ice growing on the wood. He was close to whimpering now but bit his lip instead.

(she told him to not panic didn't she, so why was he panicking?)

He took a series of deep breaths and willed himself to calm down, despite the freezing over of his room and the raindrops smashing against glass windows which were far louder than normal.

Thor was alerted to the sound of light footsteps behind him and he turned his head to see a young, brunette boy sleepily smiling up at him. He froze.

"Why are you up, Thor? It's so late! Go back to sleep." Innocent green eyes looked up at him, questioning his actions.

He tried to answer but was distracted by another, taller boy sitting on his frosted desk.

The preadolescent asked, an expression of sadness pasted on,"Why are you always so busy? I'm sure your lessons with father aren't that overwhelming. Can't you put away some time to spend with me?"

He wanted so desperately to tell Loki that the lesson were that overwhelming and that he was so sorry that he couldn't -

A muscled, adult man strolled up in front of him, wearing black leather and gold and a look of such betrayal that it made him want to empty his stomach.

"I've wanted nothing but to be your equal for centuries, and you didn't let me. What did I do that was so wrong?" He pleaded.

If only Thor could move, if only he could run up to Loki and tell him that he'll change, change for the better -

"It's too late." Another figure stepped out of the shadows, wearing armour and an expression of madness stark on his face, "It's too late."

His vision blurred, and Thor felt something hot pour down his cheeks. One by one, Loki stepped out, of different ages and times, reminding him of the greatest responsibility that he had failed.

And then Sif.

Fandral.

Hogun.

Volstagg.

Every single person that Thor had ever had the guts to befriend appeared, all of them staring at Thor accusingly.

Out of the crowd, a tall and colt-like Loki appeared, a mop of hair on his head with curls sticking out, and the normally gleeful and mischievous expression, was replaced with devastation and hurt.

They stared at each other for a good while, all teary eyed before Loki whispered.

"Why, Thor? Why did you keep us out? We've only ever wanted to help you, to love you, but you don't let us. Why?

Closing his eyes and backing up to the door, he covered his ears with his hands and tried to ignore the angry hisses it seemed that everyone was starting to say. Thor could not breathe, he could not stop crying, and could not block out the harsh words, but when he heard a kinder whisper spread through the room, his throat opened and he was gulping air like water.

They are no longer your concern.

You will no longer be Thor Odinson.

You will no longer be the God of Thunder.

Relish.

Loki rushed to the room, not even concerning himself with disguises. He was only focused on reaching Thor's room as quick as possible, alerted by the unnaturally bad storm and the loud thumps coming from down the hall. His suspicion that something was wrong were confirmed when he saw ice, of all things, reaching out of Thor's doorway like spindly tree branches.

The large doors were locked, but not put off guard he used his magic to shove them open. The sight inside was amazing. Every centimetre of the room was covered in frost, including the windows and curtains.

Thor was lying directly at his feet, gasping and wheezing. Loki immediately knelt, holding Thor's head, and demanded, "What happened?"

"I'm sorry, Loki, I'm so sorry." Thor said, wheezing and curling up tighter. He looked down, confused at the out of place apology.

"What? Why are you sorry?" He asked.

There was no answer. Loki lightly shook Thor, who's eyes were starting to close and he stared at the green wisps surrounding his brother. They couldn't be flicked away and worry began to gnaw at him.

Hugging Thor tighter, he refused to let the strands surround him, but it was all in vain.

"Thor!" He shouted, panicking.

The wisps were glowing brighter and no matter what magic Loki used to push them away, they were just not going to let the thunder god free.

Without pausing, the wisps grew into an unbearable light that forced him to cover his eyes. Loki could feel himself being pushed away and the sudden burst of air that threw him into the wall behind took him completely by surprise.

Loki landed on his stomach and hissed, in pain, and noticed that he could not see any bright wisps through his eyelids. Opening them, he was relieved to find that the green strands had disappeared. Loki was not so relieved to find that they had taken Thor with him.

He stared at the empty outline of his brother, fear growing inside him.

A small voice poked through the heavy silence.

"Thor?"

Miles away from Asgard, on a planet known as Earth, a young man looked up at the stars from the window of his apartment.

It was his own, not shared with anyone, and although it was small and cramped he rejoiced in his independency in the town of Havenhallow, outside Bath.

His hair fell over his shoulders in a braid, and light brown skin shone from the lamps outside. The body was different, but comfortable in a way he had never realised it could be.

Of course, his worries were not completely discarded. He still woke and paced in the middle of the night, still had nightmares from time to time and would forever continue to panic over responsibilities he did not carry anymore.

At least Thor had the chance to recover. To fix himself up, before ever showing his face to Loki again.

Wether he was going to hide from his friends and family forever, or if this was just a temporary arrangement, he had no idea. But Thor had been granted a wish from the goddess of life, and it was not going to waste.

(oh Thor. foolish, naive Thor. you should know better than to be optimistic by now.)

A few mistakes were edited, as well as a few phrases. If you have any other suggestions, please review and let me know!