-Return to me, Brother-
*Part 1*
Thor walked the halls of his home on Asgard, as he took to doing a lot lately. His mind traveled to many places these days, never slowing or stopping and he felt restless sometimes.
He was thankful the worst was over… Earth had been saved and all would be well over time with the mortals. As well as they could be, at least. And if another threat would rise? He would return to Earth once again…and fight by the side of the allies and friends he'd made during his last battle. The Avengers.
But what was worrying his mind?
Soon, his walk brought him to the Asgardian prison. Not many were held within these walls any longer, but there was one Thor was drawn to. The one who would not leave his mind, nor his heart, no matter what befell either of them.
He stopped before a wall of transparent yellow/white light, spikes poking from the corner edges of the walls of this cell, which the transparent wall flowed from. It was one of the most secure prison cells here. And within it, sitting in the corner with his legs spread out was a tall, lanky man. He sat with one knee up to his chest and one arm resting upon it. Black, slicked back hair and bright green eyes. His jacket lay across the room on the simple bed/bench set up for him.
And he seemed to smirk to himself as he watched the ground. "…Honoring me with the usual visit, Thunder-God? Am I such a worry on that mind of yours?"
Thor sighed. "You are my brother, Loki, no matter the argument you would like to bring across on the matter."
Loki looked up at Thor then. "You still like to fool yourself, don't you?" he stood then, walking up to the transparent wall, inches from it, looking his brother in those blues eyes. "You believe…that our years together, living in Odin's lies makes us brothers?"
"I believe that you have never been anything less than my brother." Thor kept a calm face. He grew tired of Loki's hate, anger and madness….it had taken him over so, since he learned of who he truly was. Ever since he made those choices afterwards, and his assumptions of what was within everyone's minds, however misplaced. Thor felt shame and guilt for his brothers' actions. But even despite the darkness that had over taken the mischievous god, Thor still had hope. He had hope no one else ever dared have for this God they saw as a near monster for his actions.
Thor knew of Loki's wrongs, but he also knew his brother… He has always had a feeling of loneliness, and their father revealing who he truly was had a shattering affect. And with no one there to help him mend those shattered pieces before they broke too far? What other fate did someone like Loki have?
But Thor was determined. He was determined to mend every shattered piece of his brother that he could. He knew no one else was willing, and he doubted anyone else could. The hard thing was getting his brother to allow it…
Loki's dark smirk showed a dark amusement that had hints of other emotions. No one could understand this. No one but Thor. "Oh? I've never been anything less? Me, a bastard frost giant off-spring, left to die by his own people? Taken by an Asgardian God, fooled into believing he was a mighty son, destined for the same fate as his far-more-glorious 'brother'?" Loki laughed, walking deeper into his cage, waltzing around his small room. "Loki! The God of Mischief, always in the shadow of Thor, the God of Thunder, eh?!"
Thor sighed.
Loki laughed more. "Your attempts are futile, brother. You may wish to have the same brother back, but you never will." His smiled faded as he glared. "Don't think that simple words could bring me to the light and return your younger brother you miss, following behind you."
"I don't expect you to return to how you once were, brother, I am not that foolish." Thor said. "But I will not give up on you."
Loki's gaze wandered across Thor's face, his glare questioning his brother before those green eyes turned away, unable to look at that face any longer. Soon, Thor left his brother alone once more, as he always did. Loki sat upon the bed, glaring at nothing. Could he just be left alone? He had not fought against his fate of imprisonment. Could he not be left to be a prisoner?!
He was growing tired of his brother's visits. Did that idiot truly believe he could ever have his brother back? The brother he never truly had?
Loki was too deep within his darkness. Sometimes he wished for fate to have been kinder…for it all to go away. For his family to truly be HIS family. But that was a weak thought he always pushed aside. Why be foolish like his brother, eh?
This was his life. This was what was meant to be his fate. Living in Thor's shadow, never having the love he deserved. He simply plays a prank, to ruin his brothers' crowning day. And that seemed to unleash it all—Thor's banishment, Odin's weariness becoming too much and finally, the truth revealed. That he was of the same blood of those monsters he and his brother had always practiced and imagined defeating in their younger years. That he would NEVER receive the love and glory his brother seemed born with, for he was just a stolen relic. Nothing more, truly. That's all he felt to be, at least.
He worries for his father, but hates him all the same, for the lies he'd lived through. His mother tells him he is still loved, still family and there is hope for the Allfather and Thor. But why should Loki believe this?
And suddenly, he's given what he'd always wanted, but in the worst way. Like his brother, he wanted to make his parents proud by becoming King and showing he could be a son to be proud of. But he'd wanted to earn it, not receive it after his brother being banished and his father falling into Odinsleep and he was the only Heir left. He remembered the bitter surprise and happiness and confusion he'd felt, finally being crowned.
But it was then he knew what he must do. He must right every wrong that he could. His ways of doing so were not thought through in every way they should have been, but he tried. And for what? In the end, it all fell apart. He still heard Odin's voice in his head some nights… "No, Loki…"
Loki dropped his head in his hands. Running those hands throw his hair, he ball his fists, frustration running through him.
His fall from Asgard brought him to what he believed could bring him the rise he craved… What all he felt he deserved. He fell from Asgard and, being what he was, he was never brought back. More evidence his 'father' did not truly love him…
And though being used once more (what had he even become a 'God' for? For Odin to use him to bring peace between worlds? All he was was a pawn, was he not?), Loki found his way to have his rule once more. He would be King, and a better King then his brother ever could be! Thor knew not the truths of these worlds, anyways! He's too blinded by pre-conceived notions of what those puny beings were worth and what hope they had as a lasting race!
Half these races were pure monsters, too weak to go on on their own or too ignorant to know how to survive and live right.
Loki threw aside so many lives…why should he care, though? They were below him. They all were. He was a God, a Prince of two worlds. It was his born with the right to rule, and he would. No matter what he risked. Even his own well-being, as it seemed from that sniveling creature he'd struck the deal with. And yet still, Thor tried to bring him back. Back where? Home? Ha! What home does Loki have?! He's a bastard child to both his homes; a weakling to Jotunhiem and a monster to Asgard. Such a fool, his brother is! And even in battle, still struggling to 'bring sense' to Loki…trying to convince him it could all be alright, that he still had a chance to turn back.
No….Loki had no chance. The moment he fell—no, the moment he learned the truth, he was doomed to such a dark fate.
Always, Loki's mind wanders on his life, his past and what all brought him to now. What else did he have to do, in this damned cell?
He remembered that last day on earth. Taken away, gagged and chained. Thor took him away and he did not fight it. He'd failed….was that his fate, to fail forever in his life? What was the point of his life, huh?
His mother could not look at him, his father never tried. He knew, even without seeing or speaking with any of them that all the Asgardians would rather he be dead. He chuckled at that. He lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. "Fate….you've made a joke of me so, I'm sure you've enjoyed it all. End it already, will you? I am of no use to this world anymore. I'm a bastard, a monster consumed in darkness, doomed to be trapped within it. This world will be better without me."
Loki laughed to himself, but a single tear fell from his eye. Fate wasn't finished, though, he knew that. He was just growing tired of living this way. His weakness and darkness running within him every day, making him madder by the day and Thor's worthless visits helped nothing.
Nothing would ever return. Nothing, not the reality they knew or who they used to be. There would be no return.