Nadir: the lowest point; point of greatest adversity or despair.
I was listening to We Never Change by Coldplay and having an overflow of Norse Bro feels, and this just kind of happened.
For clarification, the first part is Loki's POV in second person, the second part is Loki in third person, and the the third part is Thor's POV in second person.
Marked by metal around your jaw, saw you somewhere dark and desolate. Clank, clank, fetters shake; take freedom and strangle it, mangle it, skin it to the bone.
Home, oh, you have no home, alone like the sun in the sky, too bright for any others to coexist on the same plane.
It's all a game to you; tricks are all you ever do. You catch sparks on your tongue, create larks in your mind that corrupt to black-winged plans of world domination.
You find that your only fear is to have sewn shut your petty words, unheard, you stay, crawl away, and leave behind not a single sign you ever existed.
You fell so low, crawling in the dark on your bloodied hands and knees. And you could practically feel the burn of all their gazes looking down at you, like you were an animal, a beast, a monster.
And so you clawed yourself upwards, through the branches of the world tree, and built yourself a throne at the top, made of silver lies and steel hatred, welded together with copper deceit, in the hopes of crafting yourself self-worth, self-confidence and self-respect.
But you hated yourself all the more for your golden crown, beset with a single blue gem that pulsed to the beat of your heart, till finally its flickering will still to a steady, cold glow, and you'll know for sure you're heartless.
But even now, with the world kneeling at your feet, you're not high enough—never high enough.
So you resolved to burn their kingdoms to the ground, so you could walk upon the ashes and laugh, laugh at how far they've fallen, how pathetic they've become.
And then, you're sure, you'll finally be above them.
But it was the fabrication for a cataclysm, and you were the catalyst that set it into motion—your creation that wrought destruction.
Lying, oh you fake it; falsities are your nature. Because the tinder on the ground crackles and pops as it catches on fire.
Fire.
Are you feeling any lighter?
Standing on your perch at the top of the world, any way you turn is an abyss—a fall.
In your ascension to a King you've descended to your darkest place, hit the rock bottom. And lies are your tether, keeping you together, for all they make your skin blister and burn.
Maybe one day you'll be able to throw it away.
But we never really learn, do we?
We never really change.
When Loki broke, it wasn't a scream, wasn't a roar, wasn't with words—but with a breath, the slightest whimper.
For all his eloquence, he broke in silence.
He lived in the night and exhaled stars, moonlight beading on his brow, collecting at the corners of his eyes.
The color washed from him, leaving him in shades of black and white and gray; and silver.
Shiver, shiver, shake and quiver, like the last autumn leaf holding on come winter. And when it lets go, flutters to the frosted ground, it never makes a sound.
Tossed about by the wind it may crumble to dust—but it never makes a sound.
"Thor."
Your name was spoken as a whisper in your mind, so soft, so quiet as to be feather-like, breath-like, tickling yet almost unnoticeable.
But you never had any doubt who it was.
Arriving in the gloom, you didn't see him, didn't even feel his presence till he stood directly before you, left hand raised slightly, reaching.
You tensed, expecting any moment for a dagger to be stabbed between your ribs, to hear his haunting, maniacal laughter like yet another knife ripping open your unhealed wounds.
But when you looked at his face as he stared at you, you were struck by how lost, how scared he looked, how open and desperate were his eyes, windows to the tempest inside.
And you had never seen a face that could so rend a heart asunder.
You let your hammer fall to the ground with a metallic thud, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close.
He was so cold, and his tears were slipping down your neck, down the front of your shirt. He was shaking against you, and it struck you in that moment—in that one moment where he was letting his masquerade fall to his feet in tatters—just how broken he was.
Just how horribly, beautifully broken.
His mind had shattered into razor sharp shards, jagged, and so much more dangerous than ever before. There was an art to breaking, you realized, and he had mastered it.
It was tragic, in a way, how this broken god was more Loki than Loki had ever been when whole, when his mind was held together delicately by what he thought he was supposed to be.
Now none of that mattered.
He'd embraced himself and broken his mind to shards with truth, sharpened the edges with lies till it was a weapon, a scalpel.
You realized that you would not fix him, even if you could, and the thought depressed you even as you felt reconciliation settle around you like a fine mist, cool against your face.
He was so free like this.
Whether flying or freefalling, at least he wasn't confined to the ground.
You stroked his inky hair, so cold and smooth it almost felt wet, slipping between your fingers like a brook.
Glinting with latent tears, Loki's eyes cried out in the silence, darkness welling in the green depths.
"I will be your shadow until the day goes black.
In the night I reign, but we're never the same, because even then you're a star.
But you know I'll take you and shatter you to pieces, rip you apart with my own teeth, tear into your heart like a beast, and spread you around the galaxy till your light is dim and faded.
But you'll always rise again, and fling me down at your feet so I kneel in the puddles that your storms weep.
You can try to burn my darkness away, but while you take up all the light, darkness I will stay.
Mars and scars to your flawless skin.
And you can try to hold yourself together with love like water, but in the night it always freezes to frost and ice.
And as you fall, I rise."
He cried; cried till his eyes turned red.
And pulling away slightly to look into his face, you traced your thumb across the swirling lines on his cerulean cheek.
I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading! :3 Please leave a review and let me know what you think?