Sensitive eyes—sapphire and precious in nature—enveloped the dusky horizon with great perseverance. In Thor's eyes, something was deeply amiss. True as it was, the Thunderer was beside himself with grief. His brother, Loki, had long since disappeared from his life, and in the worst of ways. The revisit of the memory (still so very fresh) made Thor's skin crawl.
From his perch, up above Asgard in the tallest balcony, he couldn't help but feel alien. Pulling away from his bent over posture, Thor cast his gaze backwards, eyes drinking in the image of Loki's bedroom. Of course, being here was unnatural. Loki was granted this grandiose view of their homeland—best room in the Royal Family homestead, in Thor's opinion. He was never given permission to enter the trickster's abode often, but now that he was gone—
A soft crackle of thunder echoed across the unending, golden sky.
As it seemed, Thor must have stirred quite the phenomenal cloud coverage in the wake of his mourning—remembrance.Loki was not dead. He wasn't. The slippery tenses of past and present frustrated Thor's mind. If he believed Loki was forever gone, then he would be. Simply put, if he refused to accept it, then it would not be so. That's how it worked, correct? Thor snorted softly in dry satirical humor as he averted his eyes to the now steeped with gray sky.
"So coarse, Loki..." Thor mumbled scornfully, as if these words could reach and reprimand Loki while his arms crossed. Leaning across the balcony once more, Thor made a gruff sound. He hated the thought that this was his undoing. If he were but more observant...if Loki had allotted him knowledge, or let him in, could it have been different? Why was it Loki could not permit his closest companion inside, to aid him? That was what Thor was to him, isn't that right? The emerald-eyed man was just this...great, big thing that kept everyone at bay so he could do everything and anything by his lonesome self. And wasn't that so? Wasn't he leading a lonely lifestyle?
Curled fists smashed upon the balcony ledge, the booming sound reverberating across Asgard while the storm tipped into a more volatile scene. Thor dully noted the cracks beneath his calloused skin, hating himself for wreaking havoc to the area which was rightfully Loki's. This was all he could do to feel comfort, visiting places Loki frequented. Things that were Loki's—are Loki's. Thor growled lowly, teeth clenched tightly.
Having enough of these perpetual thoughts, Thor quickly regained what little composure could be salvaged and ventured inside the bedroom he had so recently thoroughly paced through. It would be a lie to say Thor wasn't tempted to ransack the bedroom in hopes of finding some sort of beacon of hope that could prove Loki was still well. His incredible willpower and stubborn mind denied him the temptation, persuading himself that the moment he did, Loki would make his reappearance and scold Thor for being so rude.
That, in itself, might be an indulgent fantasy he spun for himself. It was irrefutable that Thor was not the best at his coping techniques. In fact, saying they were techniques could be speculated at. Moreover, it could be classified as a horrible mechanism of mourning. Yet, Thor was—as always—refusing to believe in that idea. Mourning. That meant accepting the loss, and Thor was nowhere near close to that border.
If Thor was more himself, not in his thoughts so much, he would have detected the new presence inside the trickster's quarters. Regardless, it became known when a pair of soft, welcoming and understanding hands found his forearms from behind. It wasn't startling to the Thunderer, knowing that it could only belong to one. Turning in his place, blue met twinkling onyx that looked so recently polished on a face with recent age.
"Mother," Thor began, attempting his best smile in the presence of the undeniably maternal woman. "I apologize. I've been finding myself lost in my construed thoughts." Thor's eyes widen somewhat at the sight of a faint grin with had an eerie playful charm to it, as if something in his statement amused her.
"I've been your mother all these many long years, and yet you believe me to accept that you are merely lost in your thoughts recently?" Frigga's fingers squeezed Thor firmly, tenderly scoping out their familiar bond to the absent male. "You do not need to explain anything to me, Thor."
His eyes flickered, and for a moment, Thor felt so young and small in comparison to the elder woman before him. It was that nostalgic childhood that caught in his throat and made him want to embrace her for eternity. That ideal, romantic idea was a given. Even though her children had grown to an age of independence, Thor understood her mentality.
Once a mother, always a mother.
In an attempt to comfort her child, Frigga raised her thin hand and pressed it against Thor's jawline, her thumb circling the scruff that had matured there. That on its own made Thor pull away from her grasp, hesitant.
"Loki is still alive, Mother, and I will not take any other truths as my own." Thor ushered out, pacing his way about the room. The All Mother all but smiled painfully.
"Loki is alive, Thor." This caused the Thunderer to turn in place quickly, eyes searching his mother's in a panicked way. Her abandoned hand rested over her chest, fingertips nimbly pressing on the skin below her neck. "He is here, in your heart. That's where Loki will always be, and as long as you never lose yourself, you will not lose him."
"Oh, come off it!" Thor boomed, arms stretched upward in great ridicule. "Heartfelt sentiments do not make people return. How can you be so childish?" Surprisingly to Thor, Frigga had not deterred from her previous position.
"Thor," The AllMother began softly, her strength and momentum building over time. "I will not take this insolence from you. I know this is hard for you, as it is to me, but don't muddle your mind with doubt and pain."
"My thoughts are clear!" Thor retorted as a snap of lightning surged through the now darkened sky. Frigga instinctively reached out and grabbed Thor by the shoulder, much more firmly than the man had expected. The storm slowly unraveled itself, the turbulent thunder softening to a generous pitter-patter of droplets. Similar to the weather's decided change, Thor's glowing eyes became dull, hollow. That, too, might have been a decided change.
"I see otherwise." The AllMother quietly retorted, proving her might with the simple action. Thor was merely grateful that she—unlike the AllFather—had a heart that reached out. Just then, his attention was brought back to the woman speaking again. "If you have a shred of respect for your brother, you will do well to hear my words." Again, Thor's mind was loose and easily drifted to the opening of the world. That balcony. His balcony. A knot started to form inside the blonde. No, it wasn't the meticulous Alabaster which had recent cracks on the edges, nor the fact that he wished to see the back of the trickster there. Merely, Thor's mind cried out for a new perspective; wondering how Loki saw Asgard and how he was able to do all he had done and, moreover, slip away. It couldn't have been that, when looking down from his castle in the sky, he scorned all and saw nothing but primitive fools.
After a final pause, Thor slipped out of the AllMother's hold once more, a bit more fluently than before. "Excuse me, Mother." Thor murmured. Before there could be a chance of resistance, the Thunderer escaped the forgotten room and made his way to occupy the elongated halls. Occasionally, when taking strolls with Loki, the blonde would find himself rushing through the great expanse that all hallways in Asgard were known for. Perhaps that was do to his quick attention span and need for adventure. Loki, in the same regard, would walk—no, he would float—across the floor. He held himself in such a demeanor. Never rushed, and always well-kept. The Trickster, Thor concluded, had no reason to move in such ways like him. He didn't need to rush through, because he could take his time. One of the little things, maybe.
Thor would merrily barter Mjolnir away for a simple, slow walk, shared with Loki.
Alone once more, Thor rested to a halt. He found himself, not only suspended in the glossy hall, but within himself. Even though they were stark contrasts of each other, Loki—like Odin—did everything for a reason. There was always a motive for him. Certainly, there was a motive to be found here. Loki did not cast himself into the void simply because the AllFather disapproved of his methods. No, no, something else.
A flash of imagery flooded his senses, causing Thor to shout out and grip his head in deep frustration. In all the nine realms, Thor knew such an atrocious feeling of hurt and betrayal hadn't existed until now.
"It will not do you well to warp your mind so harshly, Odinson."
Quickly retracting from his current disposition, Thor's eyes met clouded but all-seeing eyes of the dark pigmented Heimdall. It took a moment to fathom the man away from his post. Then again, who would guard ruins? Gaining some vigor, Thor scoffed. "You have no right to tell me such things, Gatekeeper." Heimdall, in response, raised his brows. Facial movement, rare for the man, proved to Thor that he was being genuine and true to the Thunderer, but it didn't mean Thor wanted to hear all this comfort, especially from one who disliked Loki so.
In all fairness, Loki had frozen him solid, leaving him for death's swift arrival.
"You are in great turmoil." Heimdall stated suddenly after a long moment of deciding the somehow fitting words. Thor paced, a witty, sarcastic expression sprayed across his face. That, too, felt alien, as it was Loki's profession to be snarky.
"I am right as the rain that courses down upon Asgard!"
"You are mourning for L-"
"I am not mourning."
The abruptness in Thor's tone hushed Heimdall. Not out of intimidation, oh no. Heimdall had many battles, deaths, experiences and years under his belt that Thor could not yet grasp. The great realm seer was being peculiarly respectful and kind. "Forgive me," Heimdall began evenly. "I had mistaken your constant brooding as resignation." This caused Thor to knit his brows. The man before him was known for his strange talk and even backwards riddles. So, why now, does he practice such a habitual thing?
"Resignation?" Thor whispered, then took a stronger position before Heimdall, repeating, "Resignation...!" Heimdall stayed the course. And explosion occurred within Thor, opting him to further shout due to the silence he was greeted with. "Resignation of what? You speak in nonsensical terms, Heimdall! What do I resign fro-"
"From Loki Laufeyson." Heimdall voiced, unwavering. Thor's outrage only grew to a whole new level from such a statement. Heimdall continued, "You've given up on him, therefore you now occupy your time with mourning."
"Heimdall!" Thor cursed loudly, "If you speak of him, you will refer to him by his true name; how can all of Asgard disregard kin? He is Odinson, like I, and still a part of the Royal Family! How can you speak so wrongfully about him, Heimdall?" Thor knew of the best retort, but he'd rather not give Heimdall a chance to mention leftover freezer burn. "I am not mourning, I am not accepting his disappearance as a form of death. I will not listen to you, who speaks nonsense of his death."
A long, dragged out pause filled the wide hall, enveloping Thor in a tense, thick blanket. Still in the same place as before, Heimdall remained, immobilized by choice. Agitated, Thor groaned powerfully and moved to briskly speed by the gatekeeper. If the man had no words to shed, his time was being wasted.
"You are senile and must remember what you say before you speak."
"I never mentioned anything of death," Heimdall called out as Thor moved past, not stopping the Thunderer. Eyes shutting, resting, Heimdall went on. "No, not death, which is why I find your mourning for one who is not dead as trivial and silly."
This caught Thor's thorough attention.
"Furthermore," Heimdall continued, "If you were not mourning, then I'd question as to what all this standing around is about. If I am not mistaken, you are Thor, God of Thunder, Odinson and Son of Bor." With great ease, Heimdall vacated the hallway, leaving Thor with the parting words that began fueling his existence for months to follow.
"Thor, the one who broke the great doorway to the nine realms...perhaps you should put that great name of yours to the test." the words echoed. "I'm certain you can prove the weight of such titles with a few more made, wouldn't you say?" Just then, Heimdall's image disappeared behind a pillar to another hall. "And I don't believe Thor, the Martyr quite fits."