Thanks to Carol for beta-reading.
The first thing Loki sees as he enters the Throne room is Odin's head, rotting on a spike. The second thing he sees is Thor, half-stripped, on his knees, bound in heavy chains. Only then does his attention turn to the man sitting on the golden throne of Asgard. He doesn't know him. Can't even tell if he's Aesir; probably not. Half breed elf, sorcerer, most likely.
He has been gone for decades, making his way through the Nine Realms, slipping into the stereotype of finding burning embers and fanning them into flames. He's had his kingdoms. He's had his revenge. And then it began, the pull of home. He fought it for years. Asgard wasn't his home. His home was the odd piece of land he'd taken, by battle or by wit. He would not be pulled under by the sentiment.
And yet, in the end, his steps took him there, the burning image of gold waving him along, making him crave a taste of the past.
Now his steps falter; whatever he expected to see, this was not it. He always kept up with news of Asgard. Odin would enter a short Odinsleep from time to time, leaving Thor to rule. And now he's dead. Loki really doesn't feel anything. The sight of Thor is what stirs up some heat. There are lashes on his skin, scissoring over the perfect skin. His trousers, the only thing he wears apart from his restraints are dirty and torn. The chains encircle his wrists and his neck, coming to a stake in the ground, strung so short that Thor has no choice but to kneel, his head down, shoulders drawn low.
"Ahh, Loki, Loki..." speaks the half-breed and Loki turns his attention to him. "You have heard the news I presume? Odd, since I closed the Bifrost. But I suppose you have your ways."
Oh, he was that sort. That sort who likes to hear himself talk. Loki used to be like that too, back when his plans often had no other goal than entertainment. He was gushing about his ways and tricks too, because what good was a revenge or a prank if the person didn't know you were behind it? Now he was different. Quiet. Everything he did had a purpose. He did not waste his breath or his strength.
He doesn't respond, reassured that the usurper will continue without prompting. He's not wrong.
"So, tell me, trickster. Will you charge at me and find your place by my feet next to your brother or will you be reasonable and join me?"
Loki smothers a snort, slowly approaching.
"Join you? Only one person sits on the throne of Asgard. I know that better than anyone else."
The man's dark eyes flash with impatience. He's unstable, Loki can see that. Thor's lucky to be yet alive. He used to be like that too.
"Oh but there is not only one throne in the Nine Realms, is there? I could use an ally like you."
Loki paces a bit to the side, concealing the steady way in which he shortens the distance between himself and the Throne. Between himself and Thor. Mjolnir is nowhere to be seen. Thor looks up to him. Loki would suppose to see hope in his eyes, expect Thor to maybe yell out to him, asking him to slay the villain who murdered their Father. Thor does none of that and with an uncomfortable twisting feeling in his stomach, Loki realizes that it is not because Thor is somewhat broken or changed. It is because he has finally learned not to trust Loki.
It is the reasonable thing to do, and centuries overdue at that. But it makes Loki want to prove Thor wrong. He used to like that. Perhaps he would enjoy it even now.
He makes an unobtrusive move with his fingers, tasting the magic in the air. The man sits behind a shield, strong, but not unbreachable. Not for Loki. There is something else, steady thrum of magic in Thor's restraints, likely preventing him from summoning Mjolnir. He need not worry about that now. He doesn't need Thor's help in this.
"How would I benefit from your assistance?" he asks, stalling. The man won't be alive for much longer. He is not extraordinarily powerful. Loki will beat him shortly. But it angers him. How foolish were the traditions of cherishing open combat when none of your opponents had the same concept of honour? If Thor was ordered to learn seidr just as Loki was ordered to learn combat, this would not have happened.
"Firstly, I can give you him," says the man, snapping his fingers to tug at Thor's chains harshly.
Loki looks nonchalantly at the hunched figure of his glorious brother who is unable to hide the tremble of pain. The magic in him starts weaving itself, rooting deep from the fire in his gut and spreading out to blast though his palms. He knows the moment he breaks the shield for the half-breed shouts, appalled, but then there is a hand of flame engulfing him and he screams one last time before he falls apart into a pile of ash.
Hearing some noise outside, Loki bars all the entrances. There is probably more to deal with; the half-breed likely didn't conquer Asgard all on his own. But he doesn't care right now. Let the proud Aesir warriors handle that. He has more urgent matters.
He steps in front of Thor, mapping every injury, burning the sight of his submission into his mind. He does not yet release him, but he loosens the chains so that Thor can look up. He reaches out his hand, stroking his cheek gently. Thor lowers his gaze, but keeps his head straight.
"Mother?" Loki asks.
"I made her escape."
"Good," he hums, rather glad to get that off his mind. If Mother was dead, he would mind, he is honest with himself about that.
"How long has it been?" he asks again.
"Not a fortnight. He came alone, at night, invisible. Killed Father when he was sleeping."
Loki's eyebrows twitch. That is appalling even to him.
They are quiet after that, Loki's touch not leaving Thor. He can't bring himself to. His fingers are buzzing with the contact and it's so sweet he never wants to let go. Thor is so quiet. He's not fighting, he's not demanding anything. Loki wonders what it means.
"Are you expecting me to leave you like this and go sit up there?" he motions towards the Throne with his head and brings Thor's chin up higher. The pause before Thor answers is clawing on Loki, laughing in his face. Of course he does. It is what he should do.
"Yes."
He snatches his hand back from Thor's hair where it has wandered and turns around, pacing a few steps.
"I did not know there had been a coup when I came here," he says and hates the need for explanation he feels.
"You are lying," says Thor and there is no fire. He just sounds tired, resigned.
Loki listens to his heartbeat. It's quick.
But Thor is not done and he twists the knife deeper.
"Seeing how easily you got rid of him, I would say you sent him here. It is a ploy I can now easily see through. You've done it before, with Laufey. Except then you did not let him kill Father."
Now there is some accusation in Thor's voice and it gives Loki the strength to face him again.
"I did not do this," he spats, but immediately straightens himself, calming his voice. "I came here in a spur of moment, foolishly. I will not make that mistake again."
And he goes, putting one feet in front of another, his blood flowing thickly with the horror of Thor's words.
"Loki... wait."
He stops and closes his eyes.
"Prove it. Release me. Help me get rid of the other traitors."
"What would that prove? If this was my plan all along then getting re-established with some heroics would be exactly my goal."
Thor appears to have shaken his apathy and his voice gains it's usual resonance.
"Who said anything about re-establishing? I will banish you once this is over and you should see that as mercy on my part."
Loki smiles, biting his lip. He turns back.
"Will you?" he asks softly.
"Yes," says Thor firmly. Loki thinks it is appealing that he still has the air of authority, even brought down like this.
"Well then... " Loki muses, summoning the end of the chain into his hand. Thor eyes him without fear. "If indeed that is the case..."
He tugs on the chains and makes Thor fall backwards, his legs bent beneath him, his whole body taut from laying on his bound arms.
Thor mirrors his grin. "It's a sentiment, brother, simply banishing you. I should whip you and chain you, keep you enslaved forever."
Loki tugs Thor's ragged trousers down.
"You mean like you are now?"
"Much worse."
Loki opens his own clothing and kneels between Thor's splayed legs.
"Too bad I do not share the sentiment. Unlike you, I will give you exactly what you deserve."
He doesn't know if there is truth to the joke or if it's irony. He summons some oil, just a little, but doesn't bother preparing Thor with his fingers. What does his brother deserve from him? More or less? Should he kiss him gently and work him slowly open while murmuring soft words into his ear or should he take bloody revenge on him, violating him and tearing him apart? He doesn't know. He never does.
He slides in, not without force and Thor grunts and twitches beneath him. He can't keep his hands at bay, his hungry caresses in contrast to his purposeful, measured thrusts. He only has a short time to drink this up and he will get everything Thor has to give. Thor is half hard and Loki coaxes him with his palm, not really because he wants to give but rather because he wants to take this as well. And Thor gives it to him, clenching around him and spurting over both of them. Loki follows him soon too; time is running short.
He allows himself several precious seconds of laying down on the warmth that is his not-brother, mouth pressed into his skin, inhaling his scent and then he's getting up, cleaning himself and buckling up. He does not extend the courtesy to Thor.
"I will come again. In a century or so. Come up with a more creative punishment for me in that time, will you?" he says and Thor looks like he doesn't know whether to yell at him or laugh. Loki doesn't wait for his decision.
With a click of his fingers, he releases Thor's chains and only waits until he scrambles off the floor, standing up, unabashed and tall and broad.
Then, as he sees Thor reaching for him, for an embrace or to subdue him, he doesn't know, he disappears.
He has things to do, lands to conquer, kings to poison, queens to seduce. But he is at peace now. He will come back home one day.