Thank you all for your very encouraging feedback! I always love hearing your thoughts!

Before reading this chapter, I would highly recommend listening to "Gollum's Song" from the Lord of the Rings soundtrack (quoted below). It goes perfectly with section three! Go open up another tab RIGHT NOW and listen to it!

For section two, I listened to "Deliverance (extended)" on youtube, and Gandalf Falls (extended). And for section three, I listened to "Letting Go" from the Thor soundtrack. :'( Nothing for section four!

Enjoy!

VVV

CHAPTER FOUR

"NO, THANK YOU"

VVV

"Where once was light, now darkness falls

Where once was love, love is no more

Don't say goodbye

Don't say I didn't try...

These tears we cry are falling rain

For all the lies you told us,

The hurt, the blame!

And we will weep to be so alone

We are lost! We can never go home."

- Gollum's Song

VVV

Clank.

Thor's chains jangled as he halted, just a few meters before Loki.

Loki stood in the shade of the palace archway, which led into the throne room, still draped in the illusion of Asgard's King.

The sun waned in the starlit horizon by the sea, drenching the outer courtyard with golden rays of light. Thor hung his head, avoiding eye contact, a thick lock of golden-yellow hair half-hiding his blood-streaked forehead.

Heimdall and a row of Einherjar stood at a distance from the shackled prince, awaiting their king's next order.

Loki sucked in a breath. He leaned in, taking an uneasy step towards Thor.

Thor did not lift his eyes. He stared down at his chained fists, silent as a lamb.

"Are you all right?" Loki asked, disguising his voice as Odin's. It felt unnatural and sounded strange in Loki's ears.

Thor sighed deeply. His head stayed lowered as he replied, "I suppose it all depends upon your meaning of 'all right.' Though, I am back in one piece."

Loki eyed Thor's chains, his eyebrow arching upward.

"Well, I must say... this is not the way I expected to receive you."

Thor did not smile. Loki's eye remained on Thor's downcast expression. He inched his head forward. A moment passed. His eyebrows drew together and he smiled.

"But, I do confess... I am very glad to see you."

Thor lifted his head. His eyebrows shot upward. "You... You are?"

Loki lowered his head. "Well, yes. You had me worried there, for a bit. You faced Malekith alone... But I did not think to punish you for that."

Thor's lips parted. His body slumped, his gaze dropping toward the ground. "Yes, but I disobeyed you... That is not to say that I... regret taking action. Because I am certain I would have chosen the same path if it lay before me again. Nor was I unaware, upon setting out, that my plan would require some sort of sacrifice. I knew every option had its own set of risks. And yet, I was foolish, for I did not consider that the consequences for my actions would be great. Now I know... what it truly means to disobey the king."

"I am... your father," Loki replied, "And what matters most to me, in this moment, is that you are alive."

Thor's blue eyes stared. His jaw twisted to one side, and he released a long, heavy sigh.

"Father... There is something I must tell you, of what happened... When we were on Svartalfheim... Though we yet grieve for the loss of Mother..."

Loki watched as a tremble passed through Thor, from his forehead down to his toes. He drew in three steady breaths. Then he stiffened. And barely above a whisper, he spoke.

"Loki is dead... because of me."

Loki closed his mouth, maintaining a steady, hollow expression. He made sure his face didn't flinch, didn't reveal emotion, as Thor continued unevenly.

"He saved my life, stabbing the monster who helped kill Mother. He saved me... He fought, by my side. He protected Jane, following our plan perfectly. When I decided to bring him with us, I made sure his hands were bound, so he wouldn't try betraying me again. But he never did betray me. I know... you would have been proud of him, Father."

Loki glanced away. He watched a group of trees, rustling above the rooftops near the balcony, and kept his focus there, away from Thor's gaze.

Thor's voice quieted. "I should have listened to you, Father. Now... because of my disobedience... Loki is dead. I am truly... truly sorry."

The elder prince's voice broke, and he gasped for air. Loki shut his eyes.

"He is gone. And I am forever in his debt. So I should be judged, according to your law, Father, for if I had just... If I had just obeyed, none of this would have happened! I shouldn't have sought him out. I shouldn't have gone to him... Yes, he'd still be locked up in that dungeon, but at least he would have lived. And I shouldn't have taken him there... If only I knew... If only I knew that bringing him there would serve in getting him killed... We were fools, on a fool's errand... protecting Jane from a force we couldn't even hope to contain... and of course, my plan didn't even work... we didn't succeed in destroying the aether. And Loki died, because he agreed to help me protect Jane from a force we... didn't even understand. No different than how Mother died... He followed in her footsteps..."

Loki's eyes widened. He inclined his head towards Thor. "What... what did you say?"

"'I'll take care of her,'" Thor replied, "Those were the last words Mother said to me. And she did. She hid Jane from Malekith, and Loki... he told me, exactly the same thing."

Loki shuddered.

"He told me he would protect her... at all costs. We agreed. That was our plan. And he followed it, to the end. So, yes, Jane was saved. The universe, saved. Our Mother avenged. But, at what cost? Loki... he... he is gone! Forever. He is dead. And why? What was even the point?!"

Thor's chains clattered—he tore himself away.

Loki couldn't breathe.

Cape sweeping behind him, Thor crossed over to the balcony's edge, and faced the city. Waterfalls crashed, far below, shadows growing long in Asgard's streets.

Thor's frame tensed. His breathing came in short gasps.

Then he spoke, but Loki could not make out the words.

Descending two steps, Loki stepped out of the shadow of the palace and into the balcony. His skin felt hit with warmth as soon as he stepped into the light. He squinted.

The sun, in its golden hour, lit the sky ablaze, rimming every skyscraper, every rooftop in the city with fiery orange. Over the balcony's ledge, shimmering rapids formed two rivers that flowed from the palace to the sea, like two panes of glass, reflecting apricot hues back into the air. The glow surrounded Thor's head, resembling a crown made of burnished gold, highlighting his blonde mane in soft, caramel light. Every scale on his silver shoulders gleamed with a shining brilliance that outmatched the stars.

When Thor spoke again, he did so barely above a whisper.

"I wish... Mother were here."

Thor slowly angled his head towards Loki and twin tears... like glittering diamonds, flowed down Thor's cheeks, into his beard.

Loki's illusion flickered, imperceptibly.

He bit his lip, and replied softly, "Me too."

Thor's face grimaced, and smiled at the same time.

"When things were unclear, she always knew precisely what to say... didn't she."

Loki's lips parted.

"Thor, you must know, that Loki's death, it... wasn't of your making. Perhaps it was fate. Perishing... was his fate... and nothing would have stopped it, nothing... you could have done would've prevented it from happening."

Thor looked right at Loki. He did not blink. He stared for an eternity, his eyes shining. Thor's lip trembled.

"It's just that I..." he choked, "I fought so hard... to save him."

His face twisted.

And then he broke. His head lowered, and he shuddered, silent tears streaming down.

Loki's throat closed.

He stiffened.

His arm took on a will of its own—and in one heart-pounding moment, he nearly reached out for Thor's shoulder.

The illusion would come down.

Heat flashed across the back of his hand.

He flinched, clamping his fingers into a fist.

NO.

No, I must not...

I must NOT.

Suddenly, his vision flashed.

Thor's skin glowed yellow and red, like a sun. Loki felt like he was staring at a target on a map.

Loki's heart slammed into his chest.

His left hand flew up to his breastplate. He took a step back.

His vision flashed again, and Thor's skin returned to its natural color.

Thor lifted his bright blue gaze. "Are you all right, Father? Are you unwell?"

An Einherjar, who had been standing at a nearby pillar, took a step towards his king, ready to lend his assistance. Loki quickly held up his other hand.

"No! No... I'm simply... shaken... by this news." He lowered his arms, closed his hands to fists, turning away. "That is all."

Thor inhaled a watery breath, and nodded.

"Thor!"

Loki turned, seeing Sif. She looked just as she did when he last saw her. Her battle armor firmly in place, and the knife that she had held up to his throat as she threatened to kill him firmly secured in her belt.

She rushed up to Thor. Then her large, brown eyes caught sight of his chains.

"I'm sorry—What has happened?" she asked.

Then she looked up, and saw Thor's face.

"Thor! What's wrong...?" she exclaimed.

She searched him, frowning. "Is it Loki?"

Thor's limbs quaked. He finally nodded, his eyes brimming with fresh tears.

Her gaze widened. "Is he...?"

Thor choked.

Sif reached out, without hesitation, touching his arm.

"Oh, Thor...! I'm so sorry," she moaned, gripping his arm.

Loki shivered. He drew himself up, and waved his hand for one of the guards.

"Unchain him," he ordered, "He is no prisoner, he is your prince. Unchain him, now."

The guard responded right away. Sif backed up, sniffing as the guard unlocked the rune-inscribed shackles. They snapped off. The Einherjar went back to his spot with the others.

Thor dropped his arms wearily to his sides.

"Thor, I would have you go to your chambers, and stay there until daybreak. You need sleep." He paused, and added emphatically, "As do I..."

"Yes, you must rest," Sif agreed.

She slid her hand down to Thor's elbow. But Thor lifted a hand in protest. She withdrew.

"I cannot. Not until I complete a certain task. Father, with your permission, I wish to return to the Dark World. I made an oath, when there was no time, that I would return and retrieve his body. I fled in haste, the threat of darkness still looming, leaving him there, and he is still there. So, I must go back and find him... Please, I must."

Loki's shoulders fell, a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. His every limb grew weak.

He nodded once.

"Yes. Go now, leave quickly. Join Sif and the warriors, who are going for another purpose. If doing this is your wish... I shall not stop you."

Thor's right hand curled into a loose fist. He set his jaw and dipped his head.

"Thank you, Father."

VVV

The dark sky loomed above Sif's head, thick clouds of ash shrouding the green sky of Svartalfheim.

Dust flew against Sif's bare shoulder. She stood atop a stone, overlooking black, desert plains scattered with ruins of elven ships, that stretched on and on for miles. Down in the barren valley to her left, Thor, cloaked in red, trudged on ahead of the group. The warriors Fandral and Volstagg remained many paces behind Sif, at the foot of the hill.

Volstagg carried a box, handling it with great care. Its golden frame contained two square rocks, and a slit down the middle glowed red. It hummed.

The Aether had been gathered earlier that day. They had found it near Malekith's remains, along the ground where the ship lay. Unfortunately, Heimdall could not help in Thor's search. Heimdall could only focus on living things.

When Thor had met them in the bifrost chamber the previous day, the warriors noticed he had not changed his armor after the fight with Malekith. He hadn't washed his face. His forehead still gleamed with blood. The prince made no eye contact as he bent down to pick up his hammer where he had left it, handling it stiffly. Sif could tell he hadn't slept since the death of his mother, the Queen. Fandral took a risk and pulled Thor aside, telling him, "It's all right, the mission can wait. You haven't even stopped to catch your breath!" But Thor replied that he wouldn't leave Loki's body one more minute. They would leave immediately.

So, Thor's friends had followed him, searching the Dark World from dawn till dusk. Presently, the green sun set over a craggy hill.

"Perhaps we should take a rest, for now!" Fandral called.

"I... concur!" Volstagg panted, slowing his pace.

Sif glanced down the valley towards them, shaking her head.

"Thor does not wish to stop. We must keep going, while there is still light in the sky."

"For pity's sake, Sif! Volstagg hasn't eaten anything in hours!" Fandral complained, "Very soon he'll collapse... Isn't that right, Volstagg?"

Volstagg wheezed. "A mouthful of honey cakes would do me rather well, now that you mention it."

She shot them both a glare, and continued ahead, descending the hill into the valley.

Fandral gave a labored sigh.

He stepped forward, following Sif. His foot slipped on the ash.

"The norns!" he grunted, "I do hope we're not going around in circles. Haven't we climbed this hill already? Everything in this god-forsaken realm looks exactly the same!"

The wind swept, and Volstagg coughed, unable to reply.

Sif peered ahead, spotting Thor again. His thick, red cape flapped in the air. Otherwise he stood motionless.

She stopped.

Did he find Loki...?

"Thor!" Sif called out.

Thor remained stone still, facing away.

She glanced behind, unable to see Volstagg and Fandral. They were probably still climbing.

She took another step down the side of the hill, steep as a mountain, careful not to slide on the volcanic rock. It was difficult, but she kept her eyes on her feet, until she landed on level ground.

Her leg muscles relaxed. When she saw Thor again, he no longer stood.

He knelt.

His cape draped over his legs. His hair blew in the wind, tangling to one side.

The sifting air also disguised the sound of her footsteps. As she slowed to a stop a few feet behind him, she wondered if he was aware at all of her presence.

His head remained bent forward. He slowly reached out, and dug his fingers into the sand. He picked up ash in his palm, holding it, allowing the wind to blow some of it away. Some of it fell threw the gaps between his fingers.

Sif could hear him speak.

She inched closer so she could hear the words he said.

She paused in her step, recognizing the words.

A prayer. An ancient lament, often spoken, just before a funerary pyre was cast off to sea.

"Lo... det ser jeg min bror."

Lo... there do I see my brother, he had said.

Thor lifted his face to the sky, toward the hidden stars. His voice came out again, shaky and grave.

"Lo... det ser jeg min mor."

Sif felt a tight pinch in her throat. She shook against another cold gust. It blew through her chain mail, sending a shiver across her skin.

Lo... there do I see my mother.

His frame lifted and his voice continued in earnestness.

"Lo, de roper til meg... De byr meg ta min plass blant dem, I de evige haller av Valhalla."

Lo, they do call out to me... They bid me take my place among them, in the eternal halls of Valhalla.

His fingers curled, over the dust in his palm, tightening until his fist shook violently, sand grinding through his trembling fingers.

"Hvor dine fiender er beseiret. Hvor den modige skal leve for alltid..."

Where thine enemies have been vanquished. Where the brave shall live on forever...

His voice broke, even though it carried a stronger sound.

"Og hver tåre skal tørkes bort!"

And every tear will be wiped away!

He gave a watery gasp. Then he lifted his palm, and his fingers loosened.

"Vil det ikke være mer smerte, eller sorg eller død..."

There will be no more pain, or sorrow, or death...

He opened his hand and allowed the wind to carry every bit far away.

"For de gamle tingene vil forgå..."

For the old things will pass away...

He slowly lowered his hand into his lap. Then he remained like that, absolutely still, for minutes.

Then, setting his palms on the black sand, he pushed himself up. He heavily got to one knee. He gathered himself, then stood up, exhaling.

He halfway turned, absently surveying the mountainous horizon, scanning from right to left.

Then his gaze caught on Sif.

Lines pressed deep in his forehead and between his eyebrows. He closed his mouth momentarily as he swallowed. And Sif saw directly into his darkened gaze, watching blue waves of water crash over a turbulent sea.

Her arm muscles tensed, her face heating up.

But she couldn't look away from the raw storm in his eyes.

His eyebrows twitched. Then he turned his gaze up towards the mountains, and when he spoke again he didn't address her. He whispered to the wind once more, finishing the prayer.

"Og vi skal møtes igjen, på den fjerne land utover... og glede oss i den stigende solen."

And we shall meet again, on that distant shore beyond... and rejoice in the rising sun.

VVV

TWO YEARS AGO...

Loki dragged in quick, desperate breaths of thin air.

His lungs burned, entire chest arrested in pain, because he couldn't get enough... Never enough...

He clenched his jaw, but his teeth chattered still.

His hands had frozen stiff. He wrapped them around his armored waist.

He walked on, panting hard.

How long had he walked?

Hours?... days?... weeks?

He did not know.

Somehow, he had survived the impact of his fall, waking up, disoriented, nauseated... in a man-sized crater surrounded by rubble. Half his ribs had been fractured, and he couldn't feel his legs for a long time. He lay there for days, perhaps (because if he moved an inch he felt like he was snapping himself in two), his body barely healing itself. As much as he tried to center his magic, focusing it on healing the wounds in his back and his abdomen, the faint tendrils wove incredibly slowly.

With each passing hour, he had grown colder and colder. So he tried conjuring up another set of armor, one with insulation suited for colder climate. When he crossed his arms and slapped his hands on his shoulders, it did nothing. He tried a verbal command... that didn't work either. Even the simplest methods of magic, like waving and clapping, proved useless. He couldn't even produce a flame when he snapped his fingers.

The reason for this unfortunate setback, he concluded, was that there wasn't enough magic in the air to conjure anything up. Without the aid of magic in the air, he could only use his internal magic... which ran low because of his physical state.

There was nothing left to do, but to walk. So he pressed on through the endless void.

Pitch black surrounded him... not a single light illuminating his footsteps, nothing shining but the faint stars above... constellations he did not recognize. They gave him no sense of direction.

He was lost.

His foot faltered and he stumbled. He flung his hands forward and caught himself on a jagged rock.

His fingers curled around the rock and he grimaced, fresh pain shooting through his side. His organs jostled against his ribs... ribs that felt like splinters on the brink of snapping again. And then he noticed a chill in his knee, like a patch of moisture.

Was he bleeding?

He steadied himself again, shivering, as he continued journeying without a destination across the uneven terrain that rose and fell without warning.

The ground dipped down suddenly. His boots skidded, scraping against sharp peaks of rock as he descended into a crater. His feet trampled faster, and he spread his arms out to his sides, fighting to maintain his balance.

His heartbeat went wild.

Stop... stop, stop, stop, STOP!

He did not want to fall again.

Feet stepping too fast, too close to each other... they finally found their footing on level ground. He gasped with each inhalation, chest feeling as if it might burst for lack of oxygen. He stood in place, lowering his arms, ignored the pain in his toes... more aware of the numbness of his hands.

He couldn't feel his fingers, at all.

So he rubbed them together. That didn't help.

He slapped them against his legs. They barely tingled in response.

That didn't help either.

His vision blurred.

Then his breathing hitched. He could feel his body stiffening, muscle by muscle...

Though something in his gut did just the opposite. It slowed, a strange, unfamiliar strength growing in his abdomen, near his spine...

No, deeper... even deeper than that...

Deep... in his very core: he sensed it. Like a reservoir of power, waiting to be tapped. It was cold, colder than his surroundings... and though he could not see it... he knew it was blue.

His stomach turned over.

A blue, block of ice lay deep within him. It asked, beckoned him to set it free, to allow it to take over.

Never.

I'd rather freeze.

Loki walked. Then his toe slammed into something sharp.

He howled, and flung his hands out.

He crashed to the ground, pain shooting up his arms as they landed on knife-like rocks.

"Ah!" he rasped, "...Damn it!"

At least he knew now that his hands weren't completely frozen.

He dragged himself to a seated position.

He lifted his hands so he could see them, but he couldn't make out their shape or color. He could only sense their movement, and they trembled, badly.

He closed his hands, bringing them up together, in front of his lips. He breathed against his fingertips, but the air in his lungs grew steadily colder, and the numbness remained.

He contemplated lying back down, and not counting on getting back up. Then maybe his broken ribs would heal... or he'd perish like he thought he would when he fell...

Something flashed in his mind.

He remembered something, something stashed in his secret vault, in the magic realm of in-between. A specific objecthe had almost forgotten it existed.

He shut his eyes, as his mind fumbled. He searched his invisible shelves before pausing upon the one where he had last set the object down... oh, maybe centuries ago.

He snatched it up, and with a mental tug, made it flash into existence. It appeared in his palms, a green light shocking his senses, causing him to keep his eyes shut until the green light dimmed down.

He opened his eyes.

He held a hand mirror of shining silver.

Its oval rim glowed with green, electric sparks. He absorbed the mirror's every detail, like he'd never seen it before.

He carefully turned it over, beholding the embossed patterns on the back. Flowing, swirling patterns, resembling braided hair, encircled the rim. A raised carving of a day lily marked the center of its shining surface.

The handle lay heavy and warm in his hand. He turned the mirror over again, curling his fingers around the handle. He stared into the black face of non-reflective glass.

Loki cleared his throat.

He looked off to one side, frowning. "Oh, what were the words to that spell...?" he pondered.

He focused blindly into space before snapping his head back towards the mirror.

"Ah, yes." He licked his lips and inhaled. Then he uttered the spell in a bitter purr: "Hello, handsome."

The mirror obeyed. Its surface flashed blindingly, edges flaring with light. Loki squinted. Now he saw his reflection crystal-clear in the oval frame.

Dust and filth marked his pale features. Traces of sweat went down his jagged cheeks, dried water-stains running from the corners of his eyes to his ears. His forehead bore bruises of every color, and a cut that still bled just below his hairline. His short, ink-black hair hung unevenly, fraying at the tips behind his ears. Inflammation lined his emerald eyes, and a red crack ran down the center of his lower lip.

Handsome, indeed.

Loki gripped the handle as steadily as possible. Then he pressed his right palm to the surface of the smooth glass.

"Take me to Asgard, please," he commanded.

He waited, feeling the absolute silence of the void.

Nothing.

"Take, me, to Asgard, please," he bit out.

Still, nothing.

Loki clamped his jaw."Fine then... Show me Asgard... please."

The mirror responded then. Loki's reflection transformed into a window to the realm eternal, revealing a sweeping view of Asgard's city, its golden towers shimmering over a thousand rivers, against the backdrop of a warm, nebulous sunset.

Loki's chest rose, clutching, and didn't release.

He adjusted his knees, sitting bent over the image in the glass. He exhaled with force, and gripped the mirror's handle with both of his hands.

"I wish to see my family," he breathed, "Please."

The mirror altered its image, zooming in on one gleaming citadel, flying into the balcony...

Within, a giant feast took place, everything illuminated in golden torchlight.

Loki watched as dozens of guests, dressed in their finest gowns, visited standing or seated round the long feasting tables of the royal dining hall. They soaked in the fiery glow of each others' company: clinking cups together; plucking bright, green grapes off of silver platters, mouths dripping with juice and wine; eyes glittering with laughter.

Loki salivated. He could almost taste the roasted pheasant on his tongue... the toasted warmth of buttered bread... the salty, sizzling sausage and succulent pomegranates... feel the soothing buzz of ale underneath his sternum.

Amidst the echoing chatter, his ear caught onto a familiar voice... Volstagg's. The heavy warrior leaned in close to the table, in the middle of one of his tales that captivated guests with laughter. He waved about his sausage, stuck with a fork, in large, sweeping gestures, honey and frothing liquor caking his beard.

"And then, with a mighty bellow," he recounted proudly, "I flew at the great metal beast and laid it low!"

Cheers resounded, amusement flashing across every face in view...

Then Thor appeared.

He made his way along the outer edge of the golden hall, going around the standing guests. He wore his silver plated armor and floor length cape. He smiled, nodding pleasantly as he passed by groups of guests, brushing past Sif, who sat reservedly two seats away from Volstagg.

The mirror followed Thor, as he approached a beautiful woman draped in a flowing, dress beset with twinkling amethysts. She stood underneath the arched entryway, far from the reveling guests.

Loki's eyes froze on her.

Mother...

Thor held a brief smile for her, as he gently shook her hand. She held on with both of her hands, and he nodded reassuringly before stepping away.

Loki gripped the mirror. "Stay on Mother, please."

The Queen watched after Thor as he descended a flight of steps leading to an outdoor hall lined with thick, gold columns; an extension of the feasting hall. She muttered something to herself, lips pulling tight. Then she noticed Sif standing by her side.

The young maiden's dress gleamed silver, covered in tiny, linking plates like armor. A large piece of metal that imitated a draping scarf covered her collarbone. She wore her hair down, which was rare for her.

She stared after Thor, just as the Queen did. Then Sif lowered her gaze and shook her head.

"My Queen, I'm so sorry for your loss," she said.

Frigga smiled faintly. She reached out and touched Sif's arm, stroking it with her thumb. Then they both turned out, watching after Thor again.

"How is he?" Frigga asked.

Sif hesitated. "He mourns for his brother. And... he misses her." Her eyelashes fluttered, as her composure weakened. "A mortal."

Frigga turned, facing Sif.

"He will need his friends now more than ever."

Sif nodded. "I know."

Her mouth twitched, and she peered out again. Her shoulders lifted, and she added, "I will always be at his side."

Frigga put an arm gently around Sif's shoulder.

The banquet hall erupted again into laughter, and Frigga and Sif went in together in silence.

Loki's numb fingertips trembled against the glass. He touched the image of his mother.

"Take me to her, please," Loki tried.

His heart pounded. He knocked on the glass with his knuckles. "Please... please take me back... I... I want to go back. Please..."

...But he was out of reach.

His whole body shook. He shut his eyes, and arched his back, shivering. When his eyes fluttered open, they brimmed with hot tears.

The image in the mirror blurred. He blinked repeatedly, and tried keeping his hands steady.

"Show me my Father, please..."

The glass glowed, and revealed Thor approaching the edge of a balcony overlooking the city at sundown.

Father stood just ahead of him, gazing out towards the ocean where it met the stars.

Without turning, Odin spoke.

"You'll be a wise king."

The words felt like hot coals inside Loki's chest.

Thor did not move, nor did he speak, for a long while.

Then he muttered, "There will never be a wiser king than you..."

Loki breathed unevenly, eyes locking onto the image inside the glass.

"...or a better father."

Loki's knuckles slowly turned white around the mirror's handle until the frame rattled in his hands.

Odin lowered his head, his toe tracing a line on the ground.

Thor continued, chin faltering. "I have... much to learn. I know that now." He went silent. He looked out, somewhere past the sea. "Someday, perhaps... I shall make you proud."

A smile reached Odin's lips. He turned around and laid a weathered hand upon Thor's shoulder. Thor met his father's eyes with uncertainty.

"You've already made me proud," Odin replied.

A haze obscured Loki's vision. He shook his head... shook his head, and shut his eyes. He remembered...

No, Loki.

He sat, stunned. His trembling arms sank, lowering the mirror into his lap.

No... no, of course not...

In a slow, aching motion, he laid his palm over the glass, covering two faces he would never see again. He stopped the golden light from flowing into the darkness, and he felt a final surge of life emanate from the glass, subtle vibrations of the mirror's magic warming his skin.

"Thank you, mirror," he said. A green light flashed, illuminating past his eyelids.

"Goodbye."

The mirror's surface went black, leaving Loki in absolute darkness once more.

Then the mirror snapped out of existence.

His body shook like a leaf, aching, begging for sleep. And his mind felt too weak to protest...

Something tickled his left ear.

Like wind... it touched his skin, underneath the nape of his neck...

A low, whispering hisssss.

He sluggishly opened his eyes, and saw a light.

Faint, and blue... distant.

Blinking away mist, he tried focusing on whatever it was.

The blue oval... an orb... hung in the air, suspended by nothing. It shone dimly upon a slab of stone that hovered above it, and another slab above that one, and another, and another...

A spiraling staircase.

Climbing up, up, high... he could not see where to, for it was utter darkness up there.

Loki swallowed a lump in his throat.

But the light... the light seemed warm. It invited him to come... come closer... and venture up the staircase above it... or perhaps to sleep beneath its mesmerizing glow.

He even thought he could hear it speak.

It touched his mind, whispering...

Come.

Come, little one...

Loki's hands fumbled against the slicing rock at his knees. He struggled, finally standing to his feet.

Then he took a step toward the light.

He may not have to freeze, after all.

Loki opened his eyes.

The memory faded away like an echo, and he stared straight out in front of him, at the gleaming throne.

He stood gazing at the empty seat. His left thumb flexed, absently stroking the spear in his hand.

He straightened, hearing heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

Turning, he faced the sound.

He saw his brother, striding down the center of the hall, his head held high, higher than before. He carried Mjolnir at his side. He came alone.

Loki shifted his weight, grounding his legs, straightening the spear at his side.

He braced himself, and gritted his teeth.

"All right," he whispered under his breath, "You know what you have to do... So just do it."

Make Thor king. Tell him that he's proven himself, that he is finally ready. Make it seem natural, make sure he understands... with the kingdom in mourning, and with the Odinsleep approaching... there is really no need for a public ceremony. Pronounce him king, right on the spot.

And then leave.

By the time Odin's body is discovered in the King's bedchambers... Loki will be long gone, realms away. And Thor will never have to know the truth.

It will be better this way.

"My Father, my King."

Thor landed at the center of the triune engraving carved in the floor. He knelt before Loki, at the base of the throne and dipped his head, continuing, "You may have heard that the warriors and Sif located the Aether, just as Heimdall instructed, and I'm told they will bring it to you shortly. Sadly... we were unsuccessful in finding Loki... Loki's body. We searched... everywhere... but he was buried deep, covered by ash from a mighty storm. It upsets me, that he was not given the ceremonial treating he deserved. But... somehow I found peace in leaving him buried. I concluded that, since it was the earth itself that hid him away, that perhaps fate, as you said... Surely, Mother watched over his soul as he entered Valhalla. I only hope that you are not displeased with my judgment."

Loki replied mildly, taking on Odin's voice, "No, not at all. You acted wisely, not allowing your grief to blind... or harden you. In fact, I am quite humbled in this regard."

Thor dipped his head, half-smiling. "Thank you."

Loki set his jaw. "And... I assume you've already heard of my recent decision?"

Thor's expression sobered. He nodded. "Yes. I have."

Loki straightened his posture. He inhaled deep and then spoke, "You once said... there would never be a wiser king than me. You were wrong. The alignment has brought all the realms together... Every one of them saw you offer your life to save them. What can Asgard offer its new king... in return?"

Thor stared straight at the stairs in front of him. Then he lifted his head.

"My life," he replied. Standing, he confessed, "Father... I cannot be king of Asgard."

Loki blinked, staring at Thor, speechless.

"I will protect Asgard, and all the realms, with my last and every breath, but I cannot do so from that chair."

What was he talking about?

"Loki, for all his grave imbalance, understood rule as I know I never will."

Loki hardly drew in breath through parted lips.

He knew that his brother once experienced a drastic change of character over the course of a three days, but this... This was something Loki never expected to hear.

"The brutality, the sacrifice... It changes you," Thor explained.

Loki tilted his head to one side, trying to read through Thor's expression. Yet nothing in Thor's face communicated any hidden meaning, none that Loki could detect. He spoke, as always, in a tone of absolute straightforwardness. "I'd rather be a good man than a great king."

"Is this my son I hear?" Loki asked, and he ventured a guess, "or the woman he loves?"

"When you speak, do I never hear Mother's voice?" Thor answered, his eyes staring up, bright.

Loki's breath caught.

Oh... what she would say about all of this...

He lowered his gaze to the floor, sighing heavily.

Thor insisted further, "This is not for Jane, Father."

Thor... he did not want the throne.

He did not want to be on Asgard. He wished to be on Midgard, with Jane.

Loki gripped Gungnir with newfound strength. He lifted his chin, and a slight smile tugged on the edge of his lips.

If this was Thor's own choice... Loki would have to adjust his plan.

"She does not know what I came here to say," Thor continued.

Loki listened, steadying himself against an armrest, on the verge of rolling his eyes.

Fine, you leave me no choice...

He lowered himself wearily then,his leather skirts squeaking as he fell back with a soft thump into the newly-built, unused throne.

He leaned on his elbow, slumping into a crooked seated position.

"Now forbid me to see her, or say she can rule at my side, it changes nothing," Thor added.

"One son who wanted the throne too much..." Loki glanced away, distant, "...another who will not take it. Is this my legacy?"

"Loki died with honor," Thor stated.

Loki's attention darted back towards Thor, his brow tugging upward.

Honor, he said...?

"I shall try to do the same," Thor insisted, "Is that not legacy enough?"

Loki's head swayed... he nodded. Then his eye wandered without meaning to, resting on Mjolnir in Thor's right hand.

Thor followed his father's gaze. He bowed his head, understanding, and flipped the hammer upside down, extending to his father. It hummed in the short, sweeping motion.

Loki stared at it for a moment, transfixed.

Then he drew in a shuddered breath through his nose. He sighed deeply and waved his hand. "It belongs to you... if you are worthy of it."

"I shall try to be," Thor replied, grinding his chin.

Loki's left hand curled into a fist.

This was their goodbye.

He shook his head slowly. "I cannot give you my blessing. Nor can I wish you good fortune."

Thor nodded. "I know."

He bowed, dipping his head, before turning with his shoulders, taking his first step back up the hall.

Loki stopped him.

"If... I were proud of the man my son had become, even that I could not say."

Thor halted. He turned around, facing the throne, facing Loki.

"It would speak... only from my heart," Loki added, smiling with affection. "Go... my son."

Thor returned the same look. "Thank you, Father."

He strode away, back up the corridor lined with pillars that had been fully restored.

Loki watched as Thor's form grew distant, his crimson cape fading from sight, drenched in the white daylight that filled the balcony beyond the grand hall.

Loki maintained his affectionate smile.

Then he released a sigh that he had been holding, he knew not how long.

Focusing his mind, he released his illusion.

Green light shimmered, starting in his left hand. The ripple ran up his arm, through his head, past his shoulders... Odin's fading away...

...To reveal Loki, in his natural form. His soft smile remained, emerald eyes flashing.

The spark touched the spear in his right hand last. He sat fully transformed.

"No," he whispered, narrowing his eyes, "Thank you."

He had power now.

The power he would need to defeat his enemies.

An intense rush of energy filled him, flowing through his veins, causing his chest to swell; he felt a hundred pounds lighter. The feeling was exactly the same, the time when he took ahold of that silver steering wheel with his chained hands, guiding that flying ship across the windy lake, salty air blowing freely against his face till his eyes watered.

He could not help the grin that spread tight across his face.

Caw!

Above Loki's head, a large raven, black as midnight swooped into the hall. Its wings beat the air, claws extending as it landed on the armrest by Loki's elbow. A second raven followed the first, cawing as it landed on the other armrest.

Hugin and Munin, Odin's age-old spies.

They crooned their heads intelligently, eyes scanning the familiar prince, now their new master, also attracted by the shining, polished spear in his right hand.

Loki angled his head towards the bird on his left, ordering them in a rumbling whisper:

"Follow him."

VVV

To be continued...

Please leave a review if you enjoyed!

This was like the end of ACT 1 of the story. All the events of "Thor: the Dark World" have been concluded. Now we dive into the unknown, and the middle portion of the story. :D

Notes: The prayer in the second segment was inspired by one in the book/film "The Thirteenth Soldier," which is, in turn, based off of an ancient Nordic prayer!

The lines spoken by Frigga/Sif in the flashback that are not included in the film "Thor" were actually taken from the original "Thor" script! It's online, and I really recommend googling it. It contains all sorts of extra events and lines that serve as excellent head-canon material. Go check it out!

Until next time!