Title: Not All That We Are
Author: halfmyheart
Rating: PG
Pairings: None
Characters: Loki, Thor
Warnings: None
Summary: Avengers tag. After his return to Asgard and his subsequent imprisonment for his crimes, Loki discovers that hope is never truly lost.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of Paramount Pictures and Marvel Studios. This form of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcomed. Please read and review.
Status: Completed.

The first sensation that he was aware of was cold, not so much the cold of the air surrounding him, but the bitter, biting cold of loneliness and isolation. It was a cold that even his magic was helpless to warm him against.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness when he awoke, slightly disoriented. He thought to ask for a glass of water, but speech was rendered impossible by the muzzle that his brother had foisted upon him the day before. He reached up and tried to prize the muzzle off his head but it would not budge without taking half of his face off with it.

Damn that Stark man to hell, he thought viciously as he sat up and ran his hands through his disheveled hair. The chains that still bound his wrist clanked heavily, echoing through the stillness with an eerie finality.

The chains had been a unanimous decision but the muzzle had been Stark's idea. Loki remembered the man saying something about his mouth being his most dangerous weapon, and then Thor was pushing him into the wall and attaching the infernal contraption to his head.

Well, damn him, too.

Loki had not been pleased to return to Asgard, and the Allfather had not been pleased to see him. To say that Odin was less than thrilled by his adopted son's actions on Midgard, and by his return to Asgard was an understatement, but the anger that rolled off the man in waves strong enough to knock a weaker man down had hardly fazed Loki. His harsh words and even harsher punishment had barely penetrated the shield of scorn Loki had erected around his heart. Once the truth behind his parentage had been revealed and the old man's lies had been brought to light, Loki had stopped caring what the man thought of him. In fact, he could care less what Odin did with him now that he was back 'home'. His throne was gone, his plans to take the earth were foiled, and his so-called allies were probably going to skin him alive and fillet him with a stick for his failure if they ever got their hands on him. In a way, his punishment was both damning and saving, and the irony of it was not lost on Loki.

In the grand scheme of things, lifetime imprisonment seemed a small price to pay for his wicked ways. Loki had no doubt that the Allfather would eventually renege and rescinded his punishment but, for now, he was isolated in a small, windowless room that was freezing cold and utterly devoid of any sort of stimulation whatsoever. There wasn't even a book on the small writing table near the door.

It wasn't just the temperature of the room that made it so cold, but the knowledge that this small, solitary, lifeless cage was his home now. It was a depressing thought and it actually made Loki shudder despite himself. He preferred the Midgardian cage to this one. At least it was made of glass and he could entertain himself with the comings and goings of the people on the ship. That cage had been filled with light and the occasional visitor, whereas this cage was dimly lit and surrounded on all sides by stone walls that would be fortified against his magic and therefore impossible to escape.

Loki sighed into the muzzle, his breath hot and unpleasant within the confines of the metal. He climbed to his feet and slowly walked across the room and back in both directions, heel to toe, counting his steps as he went. There were twelve steps from the bed to the opposing wall, and twelve steps from the door to the back wall, and it was as empty and as cold as his tattered soul.

He sat down heavily on the bed, more weary than he had ever felt in his life. He leaned backwards with another frustrated sigh, far too tired and lonely to be bitter and angry anymore.

There was a part of him, infinitesimally small, that was relieved to be back on Asgard, happy even, but there was another part of him, much larger and much louder, that detested it with every possible ounce of hatred he had in him.

Inside, deep down, there was the still the heart of a child, a lost child, and Loki was ashamed of himself for it. He was supposed to hate Thor, not love him, but all he really felt was indifference, and that was more dangerous than hate in Loki's opinion. Indifference did not equal hate, it was an entity unto itself and it smacked of the ability to still love.

Loki rolled over with a groan until he was lying face down, half on, half off the bed. This was his worst nightmare come true and he couldn't see how it could possibly get any worse.

Suddenly, Loki heard the bolt turn in the lock of the door and he realized that he was wrong. So very wrong. Things were about to get a lot worse.

Loki turned over and sat up as several more clicks echoed throughout the room. The hinges of the heavy door squeaked in protest as it was flung open to reveal Thor, illuminated by a crown of sunlight, his face hidden in shadow as the light pour into the room from behind him.

Loki's eyes watered painfully and he blinked against the sudden assault of daylight on his senses.

Thor stepped easily into the room, looking far too big for it, yet easily comfortable in the small cage. There was a sad, resigned expression creasing his brow as he took in the defeated slump of Loki's shoulders and the stony set of his eyes. He allowed his gaze to linger on the muzzle and Loki knew what he was thinking.

This was not the first time that Loki had been punished in such a manner. Once, when he was much younger, Odin had allowed a gang of dwarves to sew his mouth shut as punishment for his mischievous predilections when he had run afoul of them. It had been a dark chapter in his life, one that Loki had never wanted to repeat in any fashion. The scars from the dwarves needles had long since healed, but Loki could still feel them in the dead of the night when his thoughts were dark and plagued with uncertainty, and the pain of that memory was enough to force Loki to look away from the sympathetic eyes of his brother. He was silently thankful that Thor had only allowed him to be muzzled this time.

"Brother," said Thor by way of greeting. "It is good to have you home." His voice was even, but Loki could hear the brittle layer of sadness beneath the false cheerfulness that he was trying so hard to conceal.

The door closed behind him and Loki heard the innumerable bolts slid back into place. It was only when Thor cleared his throat emphatically that Loki returned his gaze to his brother's face.

Thor cast about for something to say, seemingly losing his conviction now that he was face to face with the war criminal he had once called brother, and Loki could hardly blame him. After everything that had happened, he didn't know what to say to himself either. In the end, Thor strode over to the bed and sat down beside Loki. He slung a small satchel off his back that Loki had not noticed before and placed it on the bed beside them.

Then he smiled at Loki and reached for his head without warning. Loki balked, unsure of his brother's intentions, but something small and gold glimmered in the palm of Thor's hand and Loki stopped struggling. Not that it was much of a struggle to begin with. Thor had always been physically stronger than him. Always the warrior, brute strength and prowess in battle had proven to be where Thor's true gifts lay whereas Loki, ever the weaker sibling when it came to war, lorded over the realm of the intellect and magic.

Loki sat as still as a possible while Thor unlocked the muzzle and removed it from his face. He breathed easier, enjoying the sensation of the cold air as it cooled the burning skin around his nose and mouth. He lifted his hand to touch his face but said nothing to Thor, not even so much as thank you.

Thor, for his part, seemed to expect this. He reached into his satchel without comment and pulled out a small, brown flask. Loki eyed him skeptically but took the offered item without hesitation. His throat was parched and, whether it was wine or poison in the flask, he intended to drink it all and enjoy every drop.

"Have you come to chastise me, brother," Loki asked scornfully once had had drank his fill.

Thor shook his head and reached into his satchel again, "on the contrary. I've come to keep you company."

Loki could not contain his scoff. "I was of the impression that my imprisonment entailed a lifetime of solitude."

"Father would never be that cruel," remarked Thor with a dark look. "Surely you could not think him so deceitful."

"Of course not," responded Loki bitterly. "Wherever would I get the idea that he was deceitful?"

The truth of his real parentage, and the lie that had ensconced it, still rankled and Loki felt a hot surge of anger toward the Allfather that he could not control. It simmered just below the surface, wrapped tightly around his heart, and it was a thing with teeth that gnawed at him in quiet moments until he was sure it would consume him completely.

"Loki," said Thor reproachfully. "Father only ever did what he thought was right. You cannot blame him for that. He was trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what? Myself?" Loki asked bitterly, taking the offered sandwich from Thor's outstretched hand. "No, he wasn't protecting me, brother; he was protecting everyone else from the monster he had brought home."

"How can you say that, Loki? How can you sit there and be so callous? We were raised together, as brothers; we were trained and schooled together."

"You can raise a child and dog together," responded Loki. "But that does not make them brothers.

"You are not a dog."

"Well, I'm certainly not your brother," Loki spat around a mouthful of bread. "So what does that make me besides the family pet."

Thor sighed in frustration. "Do not use such a rude analogy, it is unfitting in every way and you know it as well as I. You are bitter and angry, and somewhat justifiably so, but that does not give you the wherewithal to take your rage out on innocent people."

"Innocent," muttered Loki darkly. "No one is ever innocent."

"The void has changed you. It has made you callous and cold, turned your heart toward confusion and revenge, blackened your soul with doubt and longing. You are not this man, Loki. You are my brother and you are home now. We'll fix this, together, you and I as we always have. Do not fret, little brother, the damage is not beyond repair."

Thor could have slapped him in the face and Loki could not have been more surprised. He was gobsmacked by Thor's readiness to forgive, and his naïve belief that he could fix something as broken as Loki's soul.

Somewhere inside of his heart, Loki knew that Thor could guide him back to the light, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to go there or not. He had wrapped his broken heart in a seething ball of hatred and denial to keep the lies and betrayal from working in, but he had not thought to protect himself against love, even a brother's love, and he found that it worked like a splinted into his heart: painful and nearly impossible to dig out.

Loki stood abruptly, the chains still binding his wrists clanking loudly and obnoxiously. He crossed to the other side of the room, suddenly hot and flushed, ready to be rid of Thor, but his brother would not go quietly. He had come here with purpose and he did not intend to leave until he had given voice to that which needed to be said.

"Stop trying to push me away, Loki. I'm only trying to help you."

"I don't need your help," jeered Loki through clenched teeth. "I don't need anyone's help. I am what I am and that is all that I will ever be. You should stop trying to save me, brother. He whirled around to face Thor, a contorted expression of pain and amusement playing across his pale features. "I'm not lost."

Thor gazed at him sadly and Loki feared he would hug him as he climbed to his feet and closed the distance between them. Instead, Thor reached out and grabbed Loki by the neck.

"Listen to me brother, and listen well, I do not believe that your actions these last few days were truly the actions of a man too far gone to save. Yes, you've done some terrible, unspeakable things, but your misguided attempt to seize Midgard for yourself was not an act of evil, but an act of defiance toward me and the Allfather. This childish tantrum of yours has cost us much, and many good people have paid for it in blood, but it ends now. Do you understand? Stop behaving like a spiteful, selfish child and start behaving like the decent man I know you are capable of being. This is not all that we are." He shook Loki, hard, to drive his point home. "Your foolish, childish, desires are but folly and they will gain you nothing."

Loki jerked his head out of Thor's hands and stepped out of his reach. "You know nothing of my desires," he said acidly. "Just as you know nothing of me."

It was a feeble attempt to distance himself from Thor, but he did not truly feel it in his heart, and that knowledge bother Loki more than he would ever admit. The splinter of brotherly love was digging in deeper and twisting painfully with every word out of his brother's mouth. Loki wanted to throw himself at Thor, to bash his head against the wall and scream at him to stop believing in him. It made it nearly impossible for Loki to keep the fires of his hatred burning bright. The little lost child in his heart wanted nothing more than to relinquish his wicked ways and pick up the pieces of the fragmented life he had left behind, but his pride would not let him. He would not let Thor see him broken by something as trifling as love.

"I do not deserve your love," said Loki, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. "Or your forgiveness."

Thor gazed at him with an awestruck expression on his face that unnerved Loki. "Forgiveness is an act of compassion, Loki. It is not given because people deserve it. It is given because people need it."

Loki stared at him, momentarily at a loss for words. "I do not need your forgiveness and I do not need your compassion. You can keep them both and give them to someone who cares."

Thor started at him in silence. He opened his mouth to say something else but thought better of it. He shook his head and crossed to the door. Loki turned his back on him, refusing to watch him leave, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he did cared what Thor thought. As the door clicked shut behind his brother and the sound of locks sealing his fate echoed dully throughout the room, Loki let his head fall into his hands.

He was alone again. Along in a cold cage with nothing but his anger and his hate to keep him company. This fate was his own and it had come by his own hand.

"Way to go," he muttered to himself. "Way. To. Go."

He moved back to the bed and sat down wearily. Thor's satchel was sitting on his pillow and Loki picked it up to see if there was any more food inside even though he did not feel the least bit hungry after their confrontation.

The chains still binding his hands rattled dully against the soft leather as he reached inside the satchel and pulled out two items. The first item was a jar of blueberry jam, his favorite flavor, and the second was a book he recognized from his childhood.

He carefully set the jar of jam down beside the bed before flipping the book over. His fingers caressed the title and he was suddenly overwhelmed with an indescribable emotion. He had read this book in bed every night for a year when he was a child. No matter how much his mother complained, he had refused to go to sleep without at least reading a chapter or two each and every night. It had always been his favorite story. It was a sweeping tale of horses, valiant heroes, evil villains, and damsels in distress. It was a story of love and hope, of two brothers on opposite sides of a war, but more than anything it was a story of courage and redemption.

Loki knew it was not by accident that Thor had brought this book to him. No doubt he hoped that the familiarity of something tied so strongly to family bonds would work on his conscience. Loki felt a pang of regret when he realized that whatever Thor's plan had been in bringing him this particular tome, it was working. The splinter in his heart twisted painfully again when he opened the book and thumbed through the familiar pages. Of all the things Thor could have given him, he had given him a cherished childhood book. It was so absurd and so inconsequential given the events of the last year that it nearly made him laugh out loud, or it would have if he had not been so touched by the gesture and the connection that Thor was trying so hard to reestablish between them.

"Sentiment," he muttered darkly. It was a vexatious emotion and Loki found that no matter how hard he tried even he could not escape from it.

He glanced at the jar of jam on the floor, suddenly ravenous, and the splinter in his heart burrowed in a little deeper.

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