I don't know what had gotten into me to write something like this but I tried.
It started as a small cough, barely notable and was dismissed as nothing, a mere tingling of the lungs that are nothing to be worried about.
Yet as time passed, the cough began to get more frequent, more and more gut wrenching. Each coughing fit would leave the young prince heaving on his knees, face ashen pale and skin clammy. Nausea soon followed and so does the head splitting headache.
This goes on to the point where he could barely retain the control of his limbs and loose his grasp over his own consciousness.
He woke up to the dull colour of the Healing Chamber ceiling, surrounded by members of his family. Each of them showed varying degree of worry but the most intense was portrayed by his mother, who was hovering over his body with tracks of dried tears going down her pliant cheeks.
His eyes caught the movement of her lips but her usually soothing voice is nothing more than a constant buzzing sound, indiscernible and unfathomable to his ringing ears.
Loki strained his ears to hear what she said, mind muddled with pain that buzzed at the back of his mind but he was still unable to make any sense of it. He struggled to speak but his own voice betrayed him, coming out as a strangled groan that only serve to make his family worry more for him.
His incoherent mind dully noted his brother being pushed away from his side and another familiar face took his place.
It took him a long moment to realize who it was.
It was, Eir, the head Healer of the palace.
Her face was contorted into that of utter focus as she checked over him, nimble fingers gliding over his clammy skin to take in the feeling of his weak pulses but confusion soon bleed into her face when she was unable to find the cause of his ailment.
And she never did.
Loki was released from the healing chamber five days later when nothing further could be gained from the numerous tests that was ran over him to search for the cause of his sudden bout of fainting.
The Healer looked uncertain of letting him go but Loki insisted that he was fine and was not in any threat of fainting again.
Life goes on.
Months passed and people began to push the incident to the back of their mind, thinking it was nothing more than a fit of anaemia even if the coughing never stopped.
The next attack hit him when he least expected it.
One moment he was all vigorous as he fights in a mock battle against his brother, wooden swords clashing against each other as they struggled for dominance but the next he was coughing out blood.
Thor's eyes widened as those deep red liquid stained the lips of his brother, traveling down narrow chin to fall onto the ground where a small pool had begun to form as Loki coughed out more of it. The Crown Prince was able to snap himself out of his shocked trance fast enough to stop his little brother from falling onto the unforgiving ground face first but he didn't know what to do next.
The raspy sound of heavy breathing that intermingled with the coughing of blood brought him to the edge of his sense, mind in a whirlwind of motions as he tried to come up with something, anything, that can help his younger brother. His natural instinct is to sought out their parents, their mother because Mother always make the pain goes away. He need her, Loki need her and he have to alert her somehow.
So he shouted.
He shouted out for the guards, for the servants, for anyone that is close enough to hear him as he cradled the unmoving body of his dear brother in his shaking arms, tears falling down freely from his stormy blue eyes.
Soon enough, people began to crowd the training ground, having heard the distressed sound of their prince's shout and all of them were shocked at the sight of blood that covered both of their young princes.
Healers soon arrived and Loki was whisked away by them as Thor was met by Frigga and Odin. The Queen didn't even hesitate in gathering her distraught child into her arms, holding him close as he bawled his eyes out and she tries to sooth him with gentle whispers of comforting words.
Neither of them questioned him as they made their way toward the Healing Chamber, their minds focused on their youngest family member with their face weighed by worry and distress. The amount of blood on Thor's clothing are more than just enough to alarm both parents because they knew whose blood it was.
Like before, Eir was unable to find anything wrong. Various tests were put to use, to search for the source of it but none appeared in the results. The healers are at their loose end, nothing they do managed to make the prince better, not even when renowned Seidrmdr were brought in to help.
Frigga would've broken down to tears if she didn't have a crying Thor in her arms, who needed her support, her assurance that his precious brother would be fine.
'Everything will be alright' She had told him that, hoping that her strained smile is enough to put his distress at ease but even as she had told him that, it did nothing to ease her own worry for her youngest son.
Loki looked so small on the large bed inside the private healing chamber, so fragile that it makes her fear the thought of him breaking at the slightest pressure, at the faintest disturbance. His pale skin that would usually flush a healthy pink is now drained of its vitality, as pale as freshly fallen snow yet tinged with the insalubrious hue of ash.
He didn't wake up until a week later.
Green eyes that would usually sparkle with mischief and wonder are now clouded by pain, unfocused and murky as he struggled to catch his breath. Frigga was immediately by his side, cradling one of his cold hand to her chest while pampering his ashen face with kisses, her other hand brushed back the sweat matted bangs so that she could kiss him on the forehead.
"M…..ther?"
His voice was weak, so weak that it almost went unheard over the voices of the healers that crowded him and Frigga felt her heart breaking more and more upon hearing it. Things shouldn't be like this. Her baby is supposed to be so full of energy, so full of life as he ran down the golden hall of the castle, laughing merrily from another successful prank that he had enacted. He should be up on his feet as his youthful face portrayed whatever mischief that he had been planning on some poor sod.
Her son shouldn't be suffering like this, barely clinging for his life.
"I am here. Mother is here honey. Everything will be alright."
She brushed his hair lovingly, touch gentle and tender with love and affection she held for this boy and she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead again.
"H-Hurts….."
The sound of her heart shattering rang in her ears and she willed back her tears from falling because it is not the time. Loki needed her and she have to be strong for him in order to ease away some of his pain.
"I know it hurts dear but you will be fine soon enough. Eir will make everything better. You will be up making mischief before you know it."
Her own voice cracked as she said it because it is nothing more than raw hope speaking. Frigga is not blind, she had seen the helpless and sorrowful the Healers and Seidrmdr had given her son, a look of utter resignation as they failed another attempt at finding the cure for her beloved boy. She doesn't want to think the possibility of there being no way to heal her ailing son, she never let her thoughts wander that far because her son will live.
Loki is stronger than he looks and she wouldn't give up on him until Lady Hela come knocking on the gate of Asgard. Yet even if the ruler of Helheim is here to claim the soul of her son, she wouldn't let go of him without a fight.
She couldn't.
Days passed into weeks and it soon become months that changed into years. No cure was able to be found, nothing could be done and the people of Asgard were forced to watch as their mischievous second prince began to crumble into himself.
The cheeks that used to be full and supple are now gaunt, showing the world his high cheekbones. Emerald green eyes dimmed, losing its familiar glimmer of humour and intelligence as dark bags became a permanent fixture that showed his constant state of fatigue. His once flawless pale skin that used to be the envy of many are now nothing more than a sickly pallor, showing the veins beneath it as if it was nothing more than a translucent sheet instead of it being skin.
As the people of Asgard mourned for their second prince, it was the royal family who bear the grief of being unable to do anything but watch as their youngest deteriorate to the point where he is nothing more than a husk of his former self, a shell of the once bright boy whose sharp wit and mind are unparalleled by any.
Odin became more detached than he already was, hiding away his emotions and grief behind a cold mask in order to be the unflappable king that Asgard needed, the strong pillar that his grieving family needed. Frigga was rarely seen anymore, always staying by her youngest son's bedside as she hovered over him, keeping a rapt attention to his breathing in fear of it ever stopping.
It was Thor who changed the most.
Gone were the bright child whose smile mirrored the sun. In his place stood an adolescent whose face always contorted into a constant frown, blue eyes stormy with various emotions and it would only be clouded with grief whenever he visited his ill brother.
Every day, when the sun barely showed itself from behind the cloud, he would sit by Loki's bedside. He would always take hold of one of his brother's hand, cradling it like it is the most precious thing in the world. Loki's hand looked so small and fragile when being held in his hand and it always made Thor fearful of breaking it if he were to put any strength behind his grasp.
Sometimes, on a good day, Loki would be well enough to hold a conversation with him and Thor always wished everyday would be like one of those days. He missed the witty remark his brother would always shoot his way whenever he did something particularly foolish. He missed having his brother by his side as the two of them went on one of their many adventures together. Most of all, he missed the sensation of holding Loki as tightly as he wanted just to show his love and affection to him without the fear of accidentally hurting him.
He couldn't bear the thought of causing harm to his precious brother and never would he be able to live with himself if he were to lose his brother over something like that.
Thor still hoped that one day Loki would be cured from this mysterious ailment that are slowly killing him and he always prayed to the Norns every day in hope for that dream to be fulfilled. He is willing to sacrifice anything if it means Loki could live without the constant illness holding him back.
But one day, on the day of his coronation as the new King of Asgard, his worst fear finally came to life, becoming a reality that he would rather die than living.
Loki's breathing had stopped.
I am not quite sure why I wrote this to begin with. I was trying to make a sic fic for some brotherly fluff between Thor and Loki but as you can see, it deteriorate into this. Should I make a sequel?
Read and review as usual.
Y.L