Written for Avengers Fest 2015, for Last_Winter_Rose's request for fic about Loki and Thor as close brothers (i.e., no incest/pseudo-incest); basically this just ended up as a short scene of canon divergence from Loki's visit to Thor at the SHIELD installation in the first film.
Father is dead.
Three words. He need only say three words to defeat Thor at last, to rip away everything known and familiar (as everything has been ripped away from Loki), to make sure Thor stays here where he cannot ruin Loki's one chance to show Asgard and his family that he is (not a monster) loyal and capable and worthy, that he is not just Thor's shadow, not a coward, not a useless second prince who can be safely scorned or ignored (not just another stolen relic, locked up until the king finds some use for him). To finally, finally show his perfect golden brother what it means to be alone and unwanted. To see Thor ask him humbly for help and refuse, instead of trying to be grateful for the scraps of attention Thor and his friends deign to throw Loki's way when they are feeling charitable.
Three words. He cannot say them.
"We could talk to Father," Thor says desperately, and Loki nearly drives the blow home right there, because still Thor is assuming that of course his loyal little shadow wants him home, wants to throw away the only recognition he's ever been offered. Still, when he has been cast out and stripped of everything that makes him who he is, he spares no thought to his brother until he thinks Loki can yet again help him out of a disaster of his own making.
"Father is," he starts, and the fresh surge of anger is not enough, and he cannot do it. Not when Thor's nearly broken expression looks just a little too close to the grief and fear Loki could feel overtaking him in the vault.
"Father has fallen into the Odinsleep," he hears himself say. "Until he wakes…the burden of the throne has fallen to me."
Thor blinks, seeming taken aback, because of course he hadn't realized Father was overdue for his rest. "How long will he…?"
Loki sighs. "No one knows. He put it off for too long, with your coronation coming, and then…it was very sudden. He collapsed without making his usual preparations." And you drove him to it, monster, you who can bring only ruin— "I suppose the stress of your banishment was too much for him, on top of everything else," he adds, because if he cannot silence that hateful internal voice, at least he can share it and make Thor hate himself a bit too.
Thor slumps back in the chair and rubs at his eyes. "But—he will be all right, won't he?"
Loki hesitates, intending only to choose his words carefully—but alarm flares in Thor's red-rimmed eyes and in a sudden rush of spite Loki opts for the absolute truth. He has jeopardized his plans already and that is entirely Thor's fault; having pulled what was meant to be a killing blow, he is still doing Thor a favor if he only twists the knife a little. "We…do not know. Mother says it is different this time—the long delay, and then the way it happened…she is not sure when he will wake. If ever."
Thor swallows hard. "Can I come home?"
His voice is smaller than Loki's ever heard it before, and yes, there is a certain amount of satisfaction in this, but it is…not what he hoped. "That would be unwise. Relations with Jotunheim are precarious enough as it is. If we are to maintain the truce…" He shrugs, letting Thor draw his own conclusions.
"Oh," Thor says quietly, and he looks small too, as if his bulk has drained away with his strength, leaving him merely wet and bedraggled and hunched in a plain Midgardian chair, nothing of his former glory remaining. It is everything Loki wanted, and yet…
And yet he is tired, already, and the satisfaction tastes far more bitter than he expected, and he is no longer sure there is anything here to be gained (here, or perhaps anywhere else). "Brother," he says abruptly. "This is not goodbye. I do not believe Father meant your exile to be permanent. But you must be patient—for once."
The gratitude in Thor's expression is almost painful to behold. "Thank you, brother," he says, his voice thick, and then before Loki can react, Thor is on his feet and embracing him, utterly heedless of the mud on his clothes that has now transferred itself to Loki's suit. Loki makes a noise that is irritatingly close to a squawk and shoves at Thor's chest, but there's not much force behind the gesture and very little real anger. It's…sort of nice to have Thor so pleased by Loki's presence for once.
He wouldn't be pleased if he knew what you are. He would fear you or hate you.
Loki stuffs the thought away, refusing to let Thor see his unrest, and Thor finally releases him. He has the decency to look a little abashed at the mud now smeared across Loki's very nice scarf and coat, and Loki forestalls him with a raised hand when Thor makes a move to wipe it away. "Do not bother. Your hands are filthy too, and I can clean it easily enough."
"Will I see you again soon?" Thor asks, because of course now that he wants something, he is eager to make use of his brother in whatever way he can.
(Or perhaps he misses you. That is not the same voice, but it too has no place here, so he ignores it.)
"I realize you shirked your duties whenever you could," he says, "but do you think kingship is an easy task I can complete in my spare time? I've no idea whether I can even expect a moment to myself, for the time being." Probably true, although he suspects that as acting king, only the most urgent matters will be brought to him for now, with everyone carrying on doing as they are accustomed. If the Odinsleep lasts longer than expected, he is likely to become much busier.
And if the Allfather dies—
He is not thinking about that. Not unless it becomes inescapable (and it won't, it can't, because Father cannot die, cannot leave them).
Thor's face falls a little, but he finds a weak smile and grips Loki's shoulder. "I will miss you, then. But I'll not worry for Asgard. Gungnir is in very good hands."
Loki's thoughts stutter to a halt. Thor has always wanted and expected the throne. He has never said anything like— "I must go," Loki says quickly, before he can visibly lose any more of his composure. "That agent is returning."
Thor's smile dims further, the lost look coming back into his eyes. "Yes. I—give Mother my love. And be well, brother."
Loki nods, bends the light of the room around himself, and slips through the door unseen as the agent reenters. Everything in his head feels muddled and unsettled, and he does not want to think about why—does not want to, but as with most things he does not want, it seems he has very little choice in the matter.
The truth is clear: Thor is changing. Already. Perhaps it is only a temporary change brought on by desperation, making him take notice of anyone who might help him, but even then…no doubt he will reclaim Mjolnir soon enough, Loki's chance to earn something for himself snuffed out before he can do anything with it at all. He should hate Thor for this, for still managing to be better—and he thinks he does, on some level.
But—
Thor believes in him. Even if he only thinks Asgard will not fall to ruin under Loki's command because his rule is temporary and he has Mother to advise him…Thor still said that Gungnir is in good hands.
He has never so much as hinted before that he thinks Loki could rule effectively—could do much of anything effectively, for that matter, beyond his "tricks." Thor has always assumed—they both assumed, long before Father made his announcement, that Thor would be king, because he was the firstborn and all Asgard loved him. Asgard has always needed someone strong, after all. Someone mighty, courageous, passionate, bold. Someone, not to put too fine a point on it, like Thor. Not someone like Loki. Thor knew it. Everyone knew it.
And now Thor says Gungnir is in good hands.
He would not say so, if he could see these hands in their true form. Loki remembers the monster's crushing grip on his arm, the armor splintering away, that blue ridged skin and the black nails that turned his fingers into claws, and he can feel a little of that same panic trying to work its way up his throat.
He realizes abruptly that he is standing at the entrance to the opening the humans have set up around Mjolnir, his steps having taken him here without much conscious direction. For a moment he simply stands there, breathes, gazes at the great hammer.
Thor does not know what his supposed brother is. If he knew, he would not be so confident in Loki's ability to lead Asgard into anything but destruction. But Thor's faith in him, ignorant and belatedly expressed as it may be, still seems to have done something to calm the panic and ease the tight knot he's felt lodged under his breastbone since the confrontation in the vault,. The knot is still there, of course, still a sharp thing that seems to jab at him when he inhales—but it is looser, if only slightly. It does not pain him as much, even when he seizes Mjolnir's handle and tugs, and the hammer doesn't budge. It means very little, perhaps, that Thor and Mother believe in him already when Father and the rest of Asgard do not, but…it is something, and he did not expect it, and the thought is oddly warming.
And then he realizes that because he had rendered himself invisible to the mortals' cameras, the agents would have seen Thor seemingly embrace empty air, and the image startles a chuckle out of him. No doubt the humans will have even more questions for his brother now, and he doesn't feel guilty about this new difficulty in the slightest, given that Thor brought it entirely on himself. For this, the mud on his suit is well worth it, and he is still smirking faintly as he steps onto the hidden pathway that will bring him back to Asgard.
Additional notes:
1. The title is from the Radical Face song "Always Gold," which I literally can't listen to without tearing up about stupid Norse bros. LIKE. NO. So I suppose this fic is me attempting to prevent part of what makes the song so horribly appropriate for them.
2. As it stands, this is a complete story, if a short one-just a little bit of canon divergence to steer these idiots back toward actually being close brothers, rather than a pre-canon fic where they already are close (tbh, pre-canon fics where they're close just make me sad because they emphasize how much was lost). However, I'm planning to add another chapter or two that will expand on this little AU and diverge further from canon, so if that sounds interesting, please add me to your alerts.
3. I realize that even the beginning of this conversation, ostensibly before any canon divergence, doesn't perfectly follow what was said in the movie. This is because 1) I couldn't find a good transcript for some reason, 2) I do not want to rewatch the movie for a tiny little fic like this where the details of a canon conversation aren't quite as important, because the movie will make me cry, and 3) I do what I want. (Although clearly I'm not very confident about that last one, or I wouldn't be writing this note.)