Because I soooo needed to be working on another fic... So here we've got a little lead in for a story that will likely be told in much larger pieces after this. This is set in the movie verse but likely after the events of any of the planned movies so far. As usual, I take pieces from the comics and cartoons, as well, but their characters are based primarily on the movies and both Avengers and Thor will be referenced.
I did take one primary piece out of the comics for this though. One of the most recent story arcs for Loki has him killed and then reincarnated into a amnesiatic child with very little magic. The reincarnated Loki wants nothing to do with his old self and seeks to please his brother who he adores as Thor is the only one who defends him.
This fic starts in Asgard but we'll be going back to Midgard soon enough and we'll get to see if the other Avengers can be more forgiving than the Asgardians.
Pairings Bruce/Tony and possibly Loki with someone, though likely unrequited, because Loki = forever alone T_T
Warning: this piece is going to take longer than my others. I am quite particular about Thor and Loki's speech. All too often I see people trying to imitate it and it comes off cheesy. As such, I'll only be putting this up once I feel their dialog is accurately reflecting them.
Rated M for future chapters which will, at the very least, feature Stark mouth and because I like to play it safe.
For Science!
I have been burdened with glorious purpose.
The screams and explosions do nothing to shake his stance. In every direction, people lie dying, the Chitauri ravage the city and fire, so much fire. Will he burn as well?
Such lost creatures.
Pain rips through every muscle in ways he had never imagined possible. Is this what they felt? Did he do this to all of those who refused to kneel?
You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel.
Why can't they just give up already? The carnage turns his stomach but his resolve pushes forward. There is no choice anymore.
There is no end to it... there is only the war!
The hurt on Brother's face as he pleads, practically begs, it almost seems real. No. It is real, but he cannot accept that. It's too late.
Who controls the would-be-king?
Of course. He knows, doesn't he? Behind that simple smile, he is still Odin's son. The pain rips through him once more. Acid gushes down his throat.
You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you, and they will never go away!
His eyes are torn from their sockets. Every inch of skin bubbles and chars under the near molten metal. His hands and feet are crushed until all that remains of the bones is a powdery mush mixed with blood.
Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red.
He deserves this. He tried to run and hide, but he knew, deep down, from the moment that they found him, that this was all fate had in store for him.
There will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he can't find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain.
They will catch him. They will bring back the torture. They will make him beg for oblivion. There is nothing he can do. Nothing Brother can do.
Puny god.
Loki awoke with a start, sweat pouring down his back, sheets sticky and wet. He called forth a small ball of light between his hands and scanned his room. His brother asleep, hunched over in a chair, did not stir. Loki watched him curiously for a long moment before slipping out of bed. He didn't bother muffling the sound of his steps, knowing how heavily Thor slept. He changed quickly and quietly into dry clothes and left his slumbering brother.
The palace was always so quiet this late and that was exactly how Loki liked it. During the day, there were so many people, all of whom looked upon him with such disdain. Even his own father. It was best to avoid them whenever possible, or at least when he could not be by Thor's side.
He still couldn't remember much from before, but from what he'd been told and what came to him as night terrors, Loki felt he deserved at least a good portion of their hatred. Yet, Thor welcomed him with open arms, so why then could none of the others? Why did his own father hate him so fiercely?
These thoughts continued circling his mind as he scoured the pantry. Having found a bit of left over pheasant, a plum and a small tankard of ale, Loki sneaked back to his room. Although the palace was dead at the moment, he'd rather not take any chances. He found his brother still asleep. With a touch of magic, he heated up the pheasant and settled into his meal.
When Thor awoke, it was slow and lingering. His dreams, tender warmth in Jane's arms, were forced to subside by the throbbing pain in his neck. He needed to stop falling asleep sitting up, but one look at the child curled up in the corner of the bed, his face contorted by nightmares reminded Thor why he had slept like this every night for the last three weeks.
It was hard to believe that almost a month had passed since Thor had found his brother. Once again, Loki had managed to escape death, though this time, it was hardly in a manner he could have expected: a small, defenseless child with so little magic and absolutely no desire to rule or battle. Was this what Loki was like as a child? Thor could hardly remember, they had spent so long fighting.
He leaned over and smoothed Loki's hair, his touch calming the boy. Perhaps this was what his brother had planned. Perhaps Loki realized he'd gone too far and just wanted a chance to start over. Thor hoped that was the case. Even in such a short time, he'd come to cherish having his brother back. The thought of that being torn away again was more than he could handle at the moment.