Shivers racked violently through his thin body, muscles spamming to generate even a small amount of warmth. The cold tinted his pale skin blue, lighter than his true Jotun colour, while his teeth chattered together painfully. Any who looked upon the sad, quivering pile on the floor wouldn't think it the former God of Mischief, the Silver-tongue who tried to destroy his brother and homeland to take the throne of Asgard for himself, only to fall and try to take Midgard as his own. Now they would see a broken thing, lost so deep in misery there was nothing but a shell left. 'Wouldn't Odin be pleased to have finally silenced the worthless runt he stole' Loki thought to himself, pulling his lips back in a snarl and moaning pitifully as a particularly intense shiver made him quake and bones rattle.
Loki had lost count of how long he had been trapped down here, the unforgiving stone floors his bedding, his own broken whimpers and pleading cries the only company he had as they resonated off the walls and echoed back to him, taunting him.
In the beginning of his imprisonment he had screamed, clawed and thrown himself against the walls, the cell having bond his magic, refusing to let any forget that he existed, till his body was bruised, bleeding and broken. When he had no energy left to will his body to fight he continued to scream, cursing the house of Odin, until his throat was raw and he could barely let out a croak.
He continued with this for 200 years, but even a God had his breaking point.
Loki's behaviour became erratic, desperate to hear, see, feel anything other than the tomb he had been destined to rot in till his death. Once, in panic fuelled desperation, Loki threw himself too hard against his prison, abused body snapping. He fell to the floor, a smile on his bloody lips as he thought he had finally freed himself. He'd woken to the soft lighting of the healing ward, one of the senior healers standing over him, her mouth set in a grim line as she gently placed a piece of gauze over the sewn wound on his chest.
"Thank you." He managed to breathe out, but the healer gave no indication she had heard him. She continued with her work in silence, Loki blearily looking around the room and seeing the group of guards standing before the entrance, blocking any chance he had of running, if he were able to.
"I am done." The healer quietly spoke stepping away from the injured Trickster, gaze cast down and hands neatly clasped before her, trying to stop them trembling. The guards nodded their thanks and began to march over. Loki's heart leapt to his throat, fear and desperation coursing like fire through his body.
"No, no, please! Stay back! Stay BACK! GET AWAY!" Loki howled, too weak to summon up the magic coursing through him and use it against the approaching guards. He managed to roll himself from the bed, landing with a pained cry on the stone floor, ripping open the stitches on his back, arms and stomach. He crawled like an infant across the floor, feebly trying to escape, tears coursing down his pallid face and eyes sparkling with terror.
When a strong firm hand locked around his ankle, Loki let out an animalistic wail, spinning around and lunging at the guard, uselessly clawing at his face and armour. Several other pairs of hands encircled his arms, flaying legs and waist, lifting the lithe God into the air and carrying from the healing ward back to the dungeon and his waiting cell.
Loki's screams vibrated throughout the Golden palace, sending icy chills down the spines of guards, making maids hurry about their cleaning to be embraced in the safety of their chambers and the All Father, who lay in Odin's Sleep, deaf to the cries of his adopted and disgraced child.
Loki was unceremoniously thrown into his cell, the door swinging shut with a resonating boom, like the final beat before execution, and wailed. He begged for his Father, Odin, to grant him forgiveness. Cried for his brother, Thor, to rescue him like he had always done. He wept for his mother, Frigga, to stroke her fingers through his hair and tell him everything would be fine, to gently place a kiss to his head. He continued to pray, plead, cry and scream for days, making himself throw up from his efforts then even continued when his voice finally gave out.
Soon after Loki fell apart slowly, piece by piece. First the attempts to forcefully break down his prison stopped, followed by his voice giving out till the guards were greater with nothing but deathly silence. They left him for a week, thinking he was restoring his strength to launch another attack, but when two weeks had passed with not a sound from the Trickster they began to worry. All were reluctant to enter the cell. What if it was a trick? What if he managed to escape, the All Father would have them banished if not worse.
Eventually a guard, Ragg, stepped forward. He was one of the more experienced fighters but also a brute of a man. Tentatively he walked into the Lie-Smith's cell, weapon raised, muscles tensed and gaze focused. When he found the Trickster he sucked in a sharp breath, not expecting the sight of the God lying naked on his side, curled into himself, whimpers and cries shaking his small form. His green gaze stared blankly at the opposite wall, tears blurring them while his lips shifted around silent words.
Ragg slowly left the cell, face expressionless as he closed the cell door on the God inside and went back to his post, the other following suit. It would be a millennium before his cell was entered again.
Loki wearily tilted his head back, the door to his prison cracking open. Torch light fell onto his filthy, malnourished form, bright green eyes wild with insanity before he screwed them shut from the burning pain the light shot through his head, and curled into himself tighter. A chocked gasp and a large form blotting out the light alerted Loki to someone standing in his cell. Turning back again, a crooked manic smile split across Loki's cracked lips, making blood pool in the small cuts, as he saw Thor looking down at him, pale with horror in his eyes.
"Come to mock me yet again, brother?" Loki spat out, eyes dancing.
Thor stood in the doorway, limbs frozen in place at the state of his brother. Of all the conditions he had imagined Loki to be in, this one never crossed his mind. He had kept the mental image of Loki smiling brightly, mischievous glint in his eyes and pale skin flawless, but to be greeted by this deranged creature covered in filth, with manic eyes and long tangled and matted black hair, made Thor's heart plummet and turn to ice, slicing through him colder than the winter winds of Jotunheim. Words became locked in his throat, strangling him.
But Loki didn't notice his adopted brother's agonised expression, continuing on with his mindless torrent of words.
"The last time you were here, you kept telling me how weak I was, that I never will match up to you and that it's the reason I lost Asgard's throne and failed to conquer Midgard. Just to prove your point you started beating me." Loki let out a mangled laugh, tears pouring down the sides of his face while his lips stretched further apart and his body shook uncontrollably. "You beat me till I couldn't scream and my body was nothing but an inferno of pain and then you disappeared, nothing but a ghost or a phantom my delusion mind created, and the pain went as well. Interesting concept that. I could feel you beat me, feel the pain of each vicious hit even though I know you are not real. So, dear brother, I ask that you leave me to myself. I have enough of your taunts to last me the rest of my miserable life time!" Loki snarled at the end, curling back on himself as he twitched and shook from the cold.
Thor finally broke through his shock induced paralysis, tears cutting shinning tracks down his sun golden cheeks.
"Loki." He croaked out, seeing how his brothers trembling shoulders tensed at hearing his name. Thor clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to calm his racing heart. Slowly, Thor took a step forward, his footfall echoing through the small stone room. Loki's trembling intensified tenfold, his short sharp gasps becoming audible to Thor.
"Thor, le- leave me alone." Loki's voice shook, his words disjointed and filled with fear as Thor continued to approach.
"Leave me be!" Loki cried loudly, squeezing his eyes closed.
Thor's footsteps stopped, Loki's desperate gasps filling the sudden silence. Opening his eyes, Loki gulped down air, trying to calm himself before he felt a pair of thickly muscled arms wind their under his body and lifted him.
The noise that burst from Loki's throat could only be compared to the wail of a Banshee, and the way he thrashed in Thor's grasp, one would believe that was in the throes of a violent seizure. Thor tightened his hold on Loki's flaying form, careful so as to not hurt his brother and somehow managed to wrap the blanket he had with him around the withering mass.
In the light provided from the torches Thor was able to clearly see what had become of his brother, and it took all his self-restraint to not empty his stomach there and then. In the light Thor could see how Loki's hair had lost its shine, nothing but long thin strands that were split and ruined, looking like black dyed straw. His skin no longer creamy white but a variation of blue, purple, black, green yellow and brown, dried blood smeared over some areas. Dark circles surrounded Loki's eyes, cheeks gaunt and sharp cheek bones becoming painfully prominent. He had lost so much weight, Thor could barely feel him in his arms, his ribs sticking out and bones so fragile Thor was scared that if he jostled him too much Loki would shatter in his grasp.
"NO! LEAVE ME ALONE! GO AWAY! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, THOR!" Loki shrieked, trying desperately to get away from the Thunderer.
Thor hushed Loki, gingerly shifting him till he held Loki like a babe, head resting against his shoulder, one arm wrapped around his waist to keep him up while the other rose to his neck and gently stroked his thumb over Loki's nape.
Loki sagged against Thor, all fight leaving him as he wept onto his broad shoulder.
"I want to wake up. Please let me wake up." Loki sobbed, chest heaving as Thor ascended the stairs out of the dungeon.
"It's not a dream, Loki. I'm right here." Thor's voice rumbled, soft yet filled with power.
"No! It is a dream. They're always dreams. Every time Thor's come for me, it's always been a dream, and when I wake I'm always alone in the dark. Why, after all this time, would Thor come for me?" Loki's voice came out surprisingly clear, but he remained sagged against Thor, soaking in the warmth the Asgardian Prince radiated.
"Loki, I'm so sorry." Thor choked, thunder rumbling in the distance.
"Don't say you're sorry. You're not real. If Thor was truly sorry he would have saved me a long time ago. He's probably forgotten about me, the Trickster, Lie-Smith, Silver-Tongue, Jotun runt and disgraced false child of Odin. Why would he want to remember such a being? No, Thor wouldn't be sorry, so don't apologise for him. I want to wake up now. This dream has already gone on too long and I tire of it." Loki muttered dejectedly, closing his eyes.
"Loki, this is no dream." Thor said again, brow drawn down as Loki continued to believe this was nothing more than a conjuring of his mind.
"Don't!" He snapped, green eyes flashing open with anger, desperation and tears in them. "Don't build my hopes on something false. The first few times I dreamt of something like this I thought them to be true, until I woke to cold stone floors and darkness. There is no crueller thing than that. Please, don't give me false hope." Loki mumbled and closed his eyes again. Thor complied with his brother's wishes, keeping quiet and continuing to carry the former God on to his rooms.
The halls of the Golden palace were silent, the flickering of torches creating dancing shadows upon the magnificent walls and columns as Thor carried Loki into the Royal wing. The God of Mischief had fallen asleep some time ago, curling himself as close to Thor as possible, the light puffs of his exhales tickling the hairs at Thor's nape.
The Thunderer stopped outside the door of his destination, looking at the peaceful expression on Loki's face as he slept and debated on whether to wake the Trickster so he could clean himself or continue to let him slumber. Chewing on his lip, Thor thought of how a Loki would kill him if his bedding were to become ruined.
Tentatively, Thor shook his brother, trying to wake him gently and not startle him.
"Loki, wake up. You need to bathe so that your bedding does not become dirty." Thor said softly, stroking his brother's cheek as Loki scrunched his eyes and turned his head away, stubbornly trying to remain asleep.
"Go away." He mumbled sleepily, groaning when Thor shifted him so that he could look into his face.
"What do you want now?" Loki grumbled, eyes half lidded as he looked to his imagined brother, wondering when he had zoned out and focused yet again on his dream.
"You need a bath. You're filthy." Thor stated, giving a soft smile at Loki's petulant look.
"Then give me a bath. I'll just wake up covered in dirt again, but indulging myself in the memory of a bath would be nice." Loki muttered, gaze far away.
When Thor continued to just hold him, Loki looked back to him and raised an eyebrow.
"Well?" He demanded, and Thor felt his lip quirk upwards.
Shifting Loki to his hip, Thor pushed the doors to his chambers open with one hand.
"I can walk, you know." Loki snapped, huffing when Thor replied with "I know, I just like holding you close after so long."
The God of Mischief shook his head muttering "Barbarian." Before his voice stilled as he took in his old chamber.
Everything was as he had left it, a spell having been placed on the room to stop its contents from being covered in dust. Hesitantly, Loki ran his fingers over the leather cover of a thick Tome on spells, smiling as he recalled some of the spells that brought his mischief to new heights.
Thor carried him to the adjoining bathroom, seating Loki on the edge of the large basin in the floor and turned on the faucets, clear water spilling forth and filling the tub. Loki hummed in appreciation when his imagined brother picked one of his favourite bathing oils and dropped a small amount into the rapidly growing pool, its sweet heady fragrance filling the bathroom and making Loki relax. He hoped he never woke, that this dream would continue on forever.
Steam misted the room slightly and Thor dipped his hand into the scented water, nodding to Loki that it was the right temperature.
Shedding the blanket his elder brother had wrapped him in, Loki slid into the hot water, moaning in pleasure as it warmed his cold limbs and relaxed his tense muscles. Dropping his head on the rim, he just sat and let the water lull him, grime loosening from his skin. The sound of water splashing drew his attention to the side, seeing Thor submerge a sponge and then laddering it with soap. Sitting with his legs crossed, Thor stretched his hand out, sponge carefully washing away the muck that covered Loki's delicate features. The Trickster watched Thor with wide green eyes as he cleaned him bit by bit, touches always so gentle and words soft as he guided Loki around to wash his back.
Once Loki was completely free of dirt, Thor turned his attention to his hair. It sat plastered to his head, an unruly tangle of knots. Grabbing the necessary oils, Thor poured an abundant lathering onto his brother's head, strong fingers massaging the oils into the mess. Loki hummed contently, pushing his head into the phantom fingers that felt so real even though he knew he shouldn't. This dream was becoming too real, details too clear cut to have been conjured by his own mind. Loki began to doubt this was a dream at all and the hope he promised himself to never feel welled in his chest.
The knots took time to untangle but when Thor rinsed the last of the suds and grime from Loki's hair and combed it through, Loki's hair reached past his thin waist. Thor examined the ends, taking in their poor condition and rough texture. It needed to be cut.
Thor rose and walked from the washroom, searching Loki's draws for a pair of scissors. Finding a large sliver pair with intricate ruins etched into the blades, Thor walked back into the bathroom, taking his place behind Loki.
Loki's eyes widened, pupils contracting at the sight of the lethal scissors grasped firmly in Thor's large hand. Images of what his delusional mind had supplied him over the many, many years of isolation he had been sentenced to, played out before him. Maybe this wasn't a dream, maybe it was a nightmare.
Loki curled himself into a ball, waiting for the searing pain of those blades slashing through him or the sharp coldness of them plunging into his vulnerable flesh. The blow never came, just a tiny tug to his long tresses and a quite snip as a lock of hair fell to the fall. Loki snapped his eyes open, head jerking around and making Thor grumble for him to keep still and face forward as he straightened Loki's head and snipped another lock off. Loki watched from the corner of his eye the gathering black pile of hair and began to shake as everything became too real and he wanted to return to the world of darkness and silence he had become accustomed to.
When Thor finished, Loki's hair reached the top of his nape, the ends flicking out slightly. Small tremors ran through Loki's body and thinking he was cold, Thor wrapped him in a luxurious towel, but this resulted in Loki's tremors increasing. Frowning in concern, Thor was about to question Loki what the matter was, before his blue eyes caught site of the bruises marring Loki's skin.
Reaching for Loki's free hand, Thor gave a small pull, bringing his brothers wide green state to him.
"Come on." He said softly, guiding Loki up and into his chambers.
Loki's thin shoulders shook beneath Thor's large hands and the Thunderer began to become worried, lying Loki on his back on the silken furs that covered his bed, green eyes still wide but wild with too many emotions for Thor to identify them all. He dropped the towel over Loki's waist, trying to conserve his brother's modesty, knowing the Trickster was very conscious of his form and would hate for any to see him in such poor state. Checking that he was positioned comfortably, Thor retrieved the healing stones he knew were locked away in one of Loki's many draws. Finding the simple gold box with back designs, Thor popped the lid and removed a handful of stone, laying the largest upon the old jagged scar that ran from Loki's navel to below his left breast. Thor shuddered to think of how his brother had received such a wound.
Loki's breath hitched at the stone cool smooth, touch his old wounds healing as if they never existed and his blemished skin becoming a creamy pale once again. The stone crumbled and Thor replaced it with another, healing Loki for hours till not a scrape nor stray bruise blemished his skin. Throughout the entire event, Loki had kept his eyes squeezed shut, trembling uncontrollably and breaths coming out in constricted whimpers. Faintly, Thor brushed away the tears Loki's eyes, running his knuckle smoothly down the side of his brothers face in a caress.
"Loki, look at me." Thor commanded gently, clasping his brother's thin face between his calloused hands.
Loki refused to open his eyes, tears slipping back down his cheeks as he parted his quivering lips.
"Tell me this isn't real. Please, tell me this isn't real!" He gasped, voice clear but shaking.
"Look at me."
"No!" The Trickster sobbed, trying to turn his face away from Thor's.
"Brother, open your eyes and look at me." Thor asked again, voice rumbling like thunder and stroking Loki's face.
Whimpering, Loki snapped his eyes open, gaze swimming in tears as he looked to his elder brother.
Thor had a sad smile crossing his lips, his own eyes awash with tears.
"Hello, brother."
Loki swallowed convulsively around the lump in his throat, just managing to stutter "This is real, isn't it?"
Thor nodded, tears staining his cheeks as he pulled his brother to his chest, cradling him like he did when they were children and Loki was upset.
Loki lay limp against Thor, trying to digest what he had just been told, words failing him till he let out a teary laugh and clung tight to Thor's huge form, gasping through his tears. Thor held him close, his own silent tears soaking Loki's neck.
"Why didn't you come for me? Why did you leave me?" Loki sobbed, arms encircled tightly around Thor's neck.
"I'm so sorry, Loki. I'm so sorry. Father forbade any from speaking with or seeing you, the only time that would be overrun were if your life were in danger. He refused to let mother or I see you, and when I confronted him on it he threatened my permanent banishment to Midgard. Please forgive me, brother." Thor begged, hulking form shaking just as badly Loki's.
"Why, after all this time have you come for me?" Loki sobbed, turning his face into Thor's neck.
"Father no longer controls the throne. I've been crowned King of Asgard. I've been trying since the start of my reign to overthrow Odin's sentence. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long." Thor rumbled, carding his fingers through Loki's new short locks.
Loki hummed, pushing his head into Thor's soft touches.
"So he's dead." Loki stated.
Thor nodded his head, nuzzling his face into Loki's neck.
"When?" Loki asked, burrowing himself closer to Thor.
"6 months ago."
"I'm sorry." Loki replied, drawing random patterns across the expanse of Thor's broad back.
Thor snorted, readjusting Loki slightly. "Liar."
Loki gave no response, just continued to draw.
"He wasn't the same after he sentenced you. He was colder, more rash, a tyrant. Shortly following he fell into Odin's sleep. I tried to relieve your sentence, but I wasn't able to. He remained asleep until his death." Thor paused, taking a deep breath before continuing "For all that my Father has done, I could not forgive him for taking you away. Not after we found out your actions were not of your own doing. His punishment was too harsh. You didn't deserve it." Thor growled, thunder rumbling in the distance.
"Shhhh." Loki soothed him, playing with the tips of Thor's long hair. "Forget about the past for the time being. Just, for the moment, pretend that it never happened." Loki replied sleepily, eyelids drooping.
"Let's sleep. I'm tired." He complained, pulling himself from Thor's embrace and ungracefully flopping down onto the soft furs.
Thor stood to leave, stopping when Loki's hand caught his wrist.
"Stay. Please?" Loki asked meekly, needing to be close to someone after being isolated for so long.
Thor nodded, perching on the edge and removing his boots and shawl. Loki clicked his fingers, night wear suddenly clothing his body and pulled back the covers. Both shifted around, becoming comfortable with Loki's head pillowed on Thor's chest and his arms wrapped around Loki's waist, holding him close.
"Good night, Thor." Loki mumbled, eyes falling closed.
"Good night, brother." Thor replied, pressing a gentle kiss to Loki's temple, making the Tricksters lip twitch into a smile as he fell into a peaceful sleep, knowing that when he would wake in the morning, Thor would still be holding him close.