Author's Note: This is my first, and completely unexpected, foray into writing for the Avengers/Thor fandom. Loki's character has grown on me so heavily in that past few weeks that I couldn't ignore him any longer, so I decided to try my hand at a little one-shot.
This piece is inspired mainly by the trailers for Thor: The Dark World, though I don't claim this to be fully conforming to what we know of the upcoming film.
As ever, happy reading, and I appreciate your thoughts!
A Matter of Change
"Why should I?"
Loki's deep-set eyes were closed again. He relaxed slowly, letting his head come to rest with deliberate and infuriating delicacy against the clean white wall.
For a long while there was only silence from Thor—but it was a silence that seemed to stretch on and on, feeding off itself—and Loki fed from it, too, hungrily, breeding strength within himself from his brother's slow, simmering frustration. Loathe as he was to admit it, sentient contact felt so, so good.
In the end, Thor gave the answer that Loki knew he would.
"You will be free."
A tempting offer on the surface, oh yes, and Loki could not deny the faint tingling of want that fell over him, like a deceptive mist that for a short spell bathed everything within in with goodness. To taste the fresh, glowing Asgardian air again was not an offer he could turn down lightly, and Thor knew this.
Loki let the possibility hang between them for a moment or two, because he could sense his brother watching him; he could almost see the expression of barely-quelled hope on Thor's rugged features. It would be some small satisfaction to cast that away with his next words.
"Free?" Almost breathing the word, Loki allowed his eyes to flicker open and to settle on Thor as though he could hardly believe what had just been said.
Until this point, Thor had been standing tall, but now he sank slowly to a crouch. They were on-level suddenly, the two of them, and Loki did not miss the significance of the gesture. His own countenance betrayed nothing as he met his brother's earnest glance.
Thor gestured quickly with one hand; the other rested on his knee. "Your help is needed beyond Asgard—beyond the walls that imprison you now." Then the hesitancy came. "Does that not tempt you?"
"Free," Loki murmured again, pretending not to hear. And then, sharply—"For how long?"
And as he knew it would, Thor's steady gaze flickered momentarily. "I cannot say."
"You do not intend my release to be permanent, then."
"I claim no intent but to seek your—"
"Don't lie to me, brother!" Loki's voice rang with a sudden harshness that, for the briefest of moments, sent a tremor of doubt even through him; it had been long since he had snapped from his own control. But fury encompassed him again, fury that Thor even dared to try to soften the blow they both knew was coming. "I see already from your words that you cower in doubt, as why should you not? You would be a fool to release me unconditionally. Your purpose here is to seek my usefulness and nothing more—and yet the great Thor Odinson has not the courage to admit even that." A smile, wide and patronising, curved his lips. "You and the Allfather are so very much alike."
The contempt in his voice lingered even after the words themselves had faded from the echoes of the bright chamber. Thor, sinking an inch or two nearer to the floor, shook his head very slowly.
"You wrong me," he returned quietly. "I would seek your freedom, and gladly, but the decision does not rest with me."
For the first time, Loki felt the stirrings of bemusement. He spread his hands. "Indeed?" he said, his anger dissolving as suddenly as it had come in favour of something lightly mocking. "And who, then, do I go to, if not the King?"
He watched as Thor's heavy brows drew down. "I am King of the people of Asgard, not of myself only."
Loki gave him an expectant glance. "And?"
"And so I have learned that the people of Asgard do not live to serve my whims, but I to serve theirs."
Loki's eyes narrowed. There was something unexpected in his brother's tone, something he didn't like. It was beyond the usual self-righteousness; it was a solidity, an ease of manner and purpose that felt no need to bend itself to the ingratiation of the imprisoned brother. It occurred to him that Thor was learning subtlety at last, but the realisation left a sour taste on his tongue.
"If you are King, it is your place to decide."
But Thor was adamant. "Not in this."
Slightly disbelieving now, Loki tried again. "Do you really think—"
"Your thought was twisted and poisoned long ago on matters of power," Thor went on stolidly, cutting him off with what could only be called the ease of long practise. "Perhaps beyond repair. But I know my place, even though it should come against you, and I cannot give you leave while you would threaten our kingdom."
Loki said nothing, mentally reassessing. He had not expected the opportunity to escape his confinement so soon, little more than a year after its initiation, but something had happened to Thor in the interim. Emotion and instinct, both forerunners of the reckless abandon that the Odinson had been so known for in his earlier days, had given way to an upright and immovable sense of duty. Thor, it seemed, had finally grown into his calling, and reluctantly or not, he was being made to sacrifice the old family sentiment in the process. It was about time, too, though Loki could not help but find it damnedly inconvenient all the same.
Thor, obviously tired of waiting, rose to his feet, his long mantle settling again about his broad shoulders. "It is not something that you would understand—not unless your time here has changed you. But I think it has not."
"No," Loki agreed softly, fixing his brother with a contemplative look and smiling faintly, "but it's changed you."
