Loki woke up from a dream that he no longer remembers, his head feels like its made of bricks, his eyes were hard to open. when he could finally peel them open he realized that it was still night. He had been sick many times to know that he was getting there. And he already felt like crying from frustration, he doesn't want to be sick, he hates being stuck in bed unable to stand up. But he knows that the earlier he tells his mother the earlier he will be treated and starts feeling better.
So he sits up head so heavy it feels so weighted as if it's anchoring him back, the back of his eyes burned and throbbed in pain.
But he persisted only one thought making him push up and not allowing himself to just cocoon in the bed until who knows when he will be found.
He puts his feet on the ground and made to stand up, it felt weird, he thought he just blinked when he opened his eyes the floor seemed closer, he saw that he was kneeling on the ground, body leaning sideways into his bed frame, the ache on his knees didn't even register over the loud beating of his heart. The crystal his mother gave him was just one arm's reach away, but his limbs felt numb and the distance never seemed so far.
He closed his eyes, bracing himself and forcing his arm to move. It was just a moment the longer he takes the worst it will get.
He grabbed the crystal which felt like ice on his overheated skin, squeezed it sending a signal to his mother. He slumped after that, body drained with unconsciousness pulling on his mind, a sudden movement beside him, a warm embrace, soft and kind, the scent that always accompanied it. He felt safe, it was then that the tears fell and he was pulled fully into darkness.
Loki woke up, the soft hum of the healing crystals and the orangey light they emit an indicator that the presence he felt before he fainted was real, and not mere feverish hallucination. The healing wings always had lights on, which was a small blessing, making it possible for him to see the makeshift blanket bed, comically small in comparison to his bed, and the golden strands that stuck out at the top. He felt warmth and drifted back to sleep uninterrupted for the rest of the night with a small smile.
No nightmares seemed less frightening.
The first times he got sick and was forced to stay in bed, he was confused when he saw the soldiers come with big wounds and broken arms and get healed immediately, he asked his mother why they didn't just heal him.
His mother had taken his hand and put it over hers.
"You see, Loki," her voice was calm, everything seems clearer when she explained things, "you are still growing, soon your palm will cover mine," his eyes widened in wonder his mother had seemed so strong and big for him then, " and by that time, you wouldn't even need the healers." She seemed so sure and he believed her.
After that every time he got sick he would put his hand over his mother's on his worst fevers and her worry becomes obvious, he was conscious of how it's becoming close, it was as if it's a promise to himself and to his mother, that Soon.
Thor holds the big history book open, turning pages to decide on a new story to read for him, it became kind of a tradition between them, thor no matter how much he likes playing and training outside would stay with him when he is awake and read for him from the same book, its fraying edges a nostalgic feel. Whenever he sees a similar book in the royal library he remembers it. He never read it. It was too tied to such memories he always feared to ruin the way his mind remembers the stories in it in his brother's voice and dramatic flair.
He always liked how their tutor was always surprised at their excessive and detailed historical knowledge.
He closed his eyes, feeling more faint than usual.
"So, did you know…" was all he could decipher, before things became unintelligible.
Thor hated seeing his brother lying in bed, the way the other usually lively visage becoming a pallid greenish hue. It hurts him seeing him in pain, with him just standing there unable to do anything. Whenever his mother called him when his brother got sick, which he made her promise to do whenever, because he hated waking up and going to his brother's room just to find it empty, his stomach falling in dread. He made a promise to protect his little brother and being there whenever Loki woke up from a fever nightmare was the least he could do.
Sometimes the sickness would only be mild and it takes only a day or so to break. Only his mother being cautious would make the other stay in bed but at least it's in his room and not all the way back here in the healing wing.
But the ones that are bad when he can't even read the stories from their book because of how delirious the other is. they scare him.
It's in those days, seeing his father and mother standing beside Loki's bed, the two most strong people in his life, looking helpless on the face of sickness, of the sight of their son in pain with nothing to do but pray to those who are stronger than them.
He realized how life is, that strength holds many meanings, and how hard it is to stand still. That life can take people at any moment, those who were just laughing yesterday, those who had just been reprimanded for mischief a few days ago, he looks on at his mother's pained feature. Love can be painful.
Loki's fever wasn't bad this time around, giving Thor hope it would be one of the former ones. But it quickly deteriorated and the other hadn't awakened since yesterday. The only sign he was alive was the burning of his skin and the low panting of his breath.
Their father had left not long ago with a sigh and a gentle squeeze to his queen's hand, and now he is sitting with his mother, the book is still held tightly in his hands. He wants the reassurance, to ask if Loki will be better soon, but he can't. It's uncertain every time, and he doesn't want to force his mother to promise something beyond her powers, or for her to feel the need to comfort him, she needs to be comforted too, they all share the same pain.
He has been awake for an hour now and the worrying healers and his mother's check ups have already been done, he was sipping the broth they prepared for him.
Thor was just escorted by their mother to eat something, the rooms feel too quiet without him.
He is still feeling feverish but not as high as the past days and drinking the water and eating a bit is already making him feel so much better.
The creaking of the door made him look up just to see Thor entering, pushing the door with one hand trying to be quiet as he balances a plate in the other.
He smiled widely when he noticed Loki watching him and made his way to the bed and sat facing him and put his own food beside Loki's on the makeshift table.
Everything seems a bit better with him there.
Soon their mother found them, asleep with an open book between them. She couldn't help but smile at the precious image they make.