Time to bring out the good old Google Translate! I thought that I might put in some Latin in here for Loki to speak his spells in. Anyway, some of the slash that you all have been waiting for is in this chapter. Leave some reviews, as always.


Loki was lying on his back on the bed, looking up at the cracked white ceiling, breaking his promise about not thinking of Thor. It reviled him to think that he still needed the god even though they were not brothers.

Yet he could not resist remembering the golden hair, the blue ocean eyes and the wide smile. Was he cursed to forever remember Thor? He could be on Midgard for the rest of eternity, for her did not ever want to repent for what he had done. What had he done wrong?

It wasn't his fault that everything had been handed to the God of Thunder on a silver platter, while he, the silver serpent, hid in the shadows. Why shouldn't he want to fight back against always being second-best?

Maybe it was time for someone else to take the throne, one with the power over words that could coerce others to do his bidding. Even if Thor did ascend to the throne, he would only be a puppet for the Council to use to guide their judgements.

It was a saddening thought, that the King would not even be King, but a dancer to another's tune. Loki turned onto his side, sighing. Maybe it would be best that he was not to be King of Asgard.

He turned back to the ceiling, black hair splaying over the pillow. These thoughts were too deep for one as drowsy as he was now, and they only served to bring him closer to the abyss of sleep. The Traitor closed his eyes and fell into it.

...

Thor snuck quietly into the room, leaning against the wall as he watched his brother sleeping, his chest rising and falling steadily. He looked so peaceful lying there, with his lips slightly parted to allow breathing to come easily.

"Brother, why must you refuse to apologize?" he whispered out loud, walking closer to the bed. "It would be so easy for you to return to Asgard."

The god brushed stray hair out of Loki's eyes, smiling. It appeared that, so far, he hadn't tried murdering anyone. This could be a start. He looked out the window, at the faint stars twinkling, as they did at home.

"Thor." The blonde looked back down at Loki, wondering what he had heard. "Thor, come back… to me." The god stared, transfixed, as his brother spoke.

Was this some trick that the raven-haired god had wanted to use against him?

"Please." By this word, Thor was kneeling beside the bed, watching Loki intently to see what he would do or say next. His brother was inside this body, somewhere. The man turned over on his side.

"Loki, I am here," the god said fiercely, reaching up and gripping a pale hand tightly. The faint red lips curved into a smile. He half-opened his eyes.

"Is this a dream?" Thor remembered that he was not supposed to have any contact with his brother before he had redeemed himself. But he was right here…

"Yes," he whispered, and the smile faded a little, though not completely.

"This is the nicest dream I have had in a long time." Thor laid one hand on the other's cheek, stroking it with his thumb gently.

"You are with me, Loki. You will be fine."

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Lie down with me, Thor." The blonde lay down beside Loki on the small single bed, wrapping arms around him gently, knowing how fragile his brother was. "It's so difficult here, Thor."

"How is it difficult, brother?" The ebony-haired man nestled his head in the god's shoulder.

"I did not know that I would, but I miss you," he said, with a little agony in his voice.

"Hush, brother." Thor ran a soothing hand over Loki's back. It reminded him of when they were children, when the boy had had recurring nightmares almost every single night. Loki had always found a way to sneak into his chambers and slide into the bed beside him.

Before morning came, and before Thor awakened, the boy would always be gone; as if he didn't want to be caught. There had only been one exception to this, when they had been around 18.

Loki had remained by his brother in deep slumber through the night and into the late hours of the morning; he had not been ashamed when he had awoken, only embarrassed to find Thor with arms still wrapped around his waist.

That had been the last time that the god had done that. Maybe he had stopped having nightmares; maybe it was something else.

"Thor," murmured Loki. "Stay with me tonight."

"I may not be able to," he replied, trying to warm his brother's freezing body.

"This is just a dream, after all. And just for tonight." The god opened his eyes cautiously, slits of emerald below thick, black eyelashes. "Come now, Thor. You were never this disagreeable to me."

He couldn't resist but to lean close to his brother, engulfing the thin, inviting lips with his own. There was a faint rumble of thunder outside as it began to rain, and the blonde pressed deeper into the other's body.

"I love you, Loki."

"I already knew that, Thor," said the man condescendingly. "It is my own feelings that I am unsure of."

"Do not think of that now." The blonde pressed soft lips against his once again, before Loki muttered, almost inaudibly,

"I guess that you can no longer call me brother."

"That bothers me no more." He waited for the god to reply before he noticed that his breathing was back to its calm, rhythmic beat and that his eyes were closed. Thor sighed at this.

He would stay for as long as he could tonight, but he mustn't be detected by either the woman or the girl who also occupied this household.

...

Loki yawned and stretched on the bed, flicking open one, tired eye.

It had been such a good dream… He remembered how intimate Thor had been, the feeling of his warmth against him, so different from his own coldness. He almost expected the god to still be right next to him.

But he wasn't, and the Traitor was alone in the guest bedroom above the streets of New York.

"Lieth! There's some breakfast down here if you want it!" yelled Valerie from downstairs, making Loki groan. What time must it be if she was yelling for him to come downstairs?

The woman was one of the friendliest people that he had ever met, but that didn't mean that on occasion she was annoying.

He pulled himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, unused to the feeling of heaviness that he felt through his entire body. Loki made to say a few words that would remove this before realizing that he didn't have powers.

He paused for a moment in this thought. How was it possible for Odin to remove his natural pool of magic that he had been born with? Maybe…

"Dare me ...

Quidam nigrum Braccae,

Viridi shirt,

Et par moderni calceamenta."

The clothes appeared beside him on the bed, surprising him greatly.

"Flare quod fenestram." Nothing happened.

So his neutral and so-called 'good' spells were still usable, but his destructive magic was not usable. Did Odin realize that he hadn't cast the full spell, or had he done it on purpose? Loki did not care so much about that question, but more so that he still had some of his powers.

The god pulled on his pants and had taken off his two tops when Valerie walked into the room.

"Liet- Oh, you're awake."

"Is it a normal custom here for people to enter other's rooms without knocking?" he said, grinning almost poisonously at her.

"I didn't realize that you were getting changed." He suddenly found himself self-conscious of his bony hips and white skin. "You're… slender."

Loki didn't know if he had imagined it, but he thought he heard a faint hiss from the corner of the room. At this, he cleared his throat at Valerie.

"If you would be kind enough to leave so that I can get properly get dressed…"

"Oh yes, of course, I'll go, see you downstairs." She was obviously floundering for words as she struggled to open the door and leave the room.

Loki turned back to the corner of the room where he had thought that he had heard the sound and looked at it suspiciously. He pulled on his new green t-shirt and looked at the strange shoes.

They had a star on the side of them and they were almost entirely black except for the white laces. They looked much different from the boots that he was used to wearing. The god pulled them on anyway and laced them, standing up and inspecting himself in the mirror by the dresser.

Loki felt like he looked so strange in these mortal clothes, but he knew that he had to at least try to blend in. He gave one last cursory look at the corner before leaving the room and walking downstairs to the kitchen.

...

Thor gave a sigh of relief as the Traitor left the room. He wasn't sure that his father's cloaking spell was working, but he knew it when Loki didn't try to blast him.

Though he could not call him a brother any longer, he knew that he could still say that he loved Loki.