Loki spends the day lounging in bed and snooping through Thor's things. He muses what drove Thor away – jealousy or guilt? Was it Loki's crudeness or his hint that he takes lovers? He shall put it through an experiment when Thor gets back.

After sundown, guards pound on his door and one of them wordlessly hands him a note. It's his mother's writing and she tells him that Thor has been gravely injured and that Loki is to visit him in the healing chambers immediately. There are no details or explanations, but Loki fills in the blanks on his own. Thor tried to vent by smashing things, as he always does. And the thing probably fought back more than he could handle.

Good.

He makes his way to the healing chambers without any rush, giving wide smiles to everyone he meets.

Thor's condition surprises him a little. He doesn't think he's ever seen Thor this beat up and it rouses something in him. It doesn't feel quite like satisfaction, but that makes no sense.

"You needn't have come," Thor rasps, his bruised neck and cut face making speech hard, but the implication of gratefulness is still apparent in his tone.

"I didn't want to, but Mother made me," Loki says bluntly, sitting down on a chair by Thor's bed and leaning forward so that Thor can see him well. "I listen to her, you know. As much as I am able to listen to anyone."

Loki keeps talking, taking advantage of Thor's inability to leave or shut him up. "I don't consider Odin my father, no, there was always this distance in the way he treated me and perhaps even in your daftness you picked up on it. But her? She will always be my Mother, just like she will be yours. Does that make you happy? Shouldn't you be pleased for me? Ah, but then there is the pesky issue of you being... well, I shouldn't mention that in public."

And Thor laughs then, startling Loki. It's a dark, pained sound, one that he didn't know his brother could make.

"I'm not sorry you are my brother. I'm merely sorry for hurting you."

"Your apologies are as dull as they are useless."

Thor closes his eyes. "Yes."

Loki frowns at Thor for denying him this fight, contemplating his next words. Thor beats him to it, but he speaks with a slight slur, already falling asleep to heal.

"I have missed your voice."

Loki pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. So much for indulging in another entertaining argument.

On his way out, he is stopped by a blade at his neck. Sif looks furious.

"Do you know what he was fighting when I found him?" she asks in a falsely pleasant voice.

"I couldn't possibly imagine," he replies, wondering whether he will be blamed for this somehow – whether she thinks he set a trap for Thor.

"Bilgesnipe. A male one."

And that is odd indeed because male bilgesnipe are far less aggressive than female ones; not to mention that it's been a long time since they posed a true threat to Thor, especially with that hammer of his.

As if reading his mind, Sif continues. "Mjolnir was lying there, unused. Thor was hardly fighting back as the beast chewed him up. Whatever you are doing to him, you better stop or I will kill you."

He tilts his head back leisurely, avoiding the sharp edge of the dagger that still threatens him.

"What makes you think it is my actions what drove him to it?"

She jerks the blade so that it rests against his skin, stinging. "What else would it be?"

He leans into the steel, turning his head to face her, drawing blood.

"His own."

Oh and the Norns have truly blessed her – strength, wit, instinct. She frowns and he sees the doubt that flickers on her face.

"Good day, my lady," he smirks and walks away, knowing her gaze follows him.

This could be quite interesting.

He is coming from a short walk in the gardens when he sees Thor again, this time in their rooms. Apparently Thor has just been released from the healing chambers and took a bath; Loki used to do that too on the rare occasions he wound up there. The place has an odour. He is naked, hand reaching into an open drawer full of tunics and looks positively startled to see Loki.

Loki watches him with interest – he seems ridiculously tall without armour to make him wider and there are many glowing red scars marring his skin, most prominently on his back where three long gashes cross the entire expanse of it, but there is more; nothing has been spared.

"Hmm," Loki hums. "Beautiful."

Thor turns away, pulling out a grey tunic.

"I will assume you mean my wounds."

Loki scrunches up his face dramatically. "You know, it's no fun if you are being smart."

He stalks forward to stand close to Thor who pretends to ignore him, searching for leggings in another drawer. Loki cocks his head, invading Thor space and he is filled with gleeful mirth. It should be the other way round. He should be cowering in Thor's closeness and yet it is Thor who is uncomfortable and maybe even scared.

"So how did you always imagine it?"

Thor doesn't ask what Loki means, but his jaw is clenching and he is making a mess of the folded garments, his hand mechanically grasping for nothing at all as he stares down, unseeing.

"Don't."

"Why ever not? Would you deny me my curiosity? Pursuit of knowledge is after all one of the few activities left to me."

Thor steps away, dressing hastily. It's a sweet victory to make the mighty Thor run.

Finally covered, Thor faces Loki.

"I thought you would have learned by now that truth only causes you pain."

And Loki's jaw drops and, curse all, his face is reddening. He feels like he's been slapped. Thor looks a little apologetic, but doesn't say anything else, walking away. As soon as his footsteps fade, Loki overturns the damned dresser and kicks it until the wood splinters.

After this episode, Thor seems to decide that the best course of action is to avoid Loki at any cost. He becomes so elusive in his habits that it takes Loki a few days to figure out that Thor has taken to flying with Mjolnir to their balcony and hiding in one of the sitting rooms that don't belong to Loki until he is sure his brother is asleep.

That seems a bit extreme even for Thor's brooding moods. Loki mostly minds because he grows bored.

Thor does however still come to their shared bed.

It's easy to feign sleep one evening. Loki is curled on his side, his back turned to the rest of the bed, muscles relaxed and breathing steady. Thor moves quietly through the room, the loudest sound he makes is the soft rustle of clothes dropping to the floor.

Loki is reminded that Thor is not only a warrior, but also a hunter.

Then Thor lies down and Loki listens to his breathing for more than two hours, trying to ensure he is completely lost to the world. He struggles with the stillness. It's not that he has to fight sleep, he has a better control of himself than that, but there is nothing for him to do but look into the dark and map the quiet, but undeniable signs of Thor's presence.

It's intimate.

He shakes the thought off and proceeds with his plan. Slowly, carefully, he rolls around on the mattress until he crosses the unspoken boundary and enters Thor's half of the bed. If he could use his blasted magic without Thor's permission, he would levitate Thor towards himself, but this will have to do.

He peeks through the dark and is happy to see that Thor is lying on his side, facing Loki.

Did he watch me till he fell asleep?

He slots his back against Thor's form until they touch in a few places and he hopes instincts will kick in.

Oh and they do.

Thor murmurs sleepily and winds one arm around Loki's waist, pulling him close with a sigh and then stills again, deep, warm breaths spilling over Loki's neck. They are pressed back to chest, Loki even pushes his arse into Thor's lap for the sake of further impudence. Then he smiles into the dark and pulls his knee to his chest before kicking it back, striking Thor's ankle with the heel of his foot.

"Let me go!" he shrieks, abandoning any sense of dignity for his purpose. Thor's arms tighten around him for a second as he startles awake and he twists uselessly against the grip, biting his tongue to contain the laughter that threatens to ruin his ruse. Then Thor's arms fall from him and Thor propels himself backwards so hard that he rolls from the edge of the bed and hits the floor. Loki waves his hand to bring some light into the room (this he can do) and sits up, peering down at Thor, face schooled into an expression of badly concealed terror. Thor landed on his face and is pushing himself up on shaking arms but no further than slumping on his knees, covering his face with both palms.

And he stays that way. The god of thunder, on his knees, hiding from the world like a child that believes that if he can't see the monsters, the monsters cannot see him either.

Loki's expression slips as Thor doesn't move, save the slight tremors that occasionally ripple across his bare shoulders.

"Thor," Loki says sharply, not appreciating this turn of events. He's not sure what is happening right in front of him. Thor shakes his head minutely in response and then he, curse the Norns, sobs quietly into his hands.

And Loki feels like throwing his hands wide in frustration, because this didn't go to plan and there is something nagging on him, a certain sense of wrongness at watching Thor so broken. He's missing a piece. There is something he lacks, knowledge or understanding, because this isn't right. This is not what he calculated.

Thor always tries.

He has been calling his apologies and explanations and attempts at reconciliation useless and boring, but the truth is, this is what Thor does. He never gives up, even if it's all pointless. But the creature slumped on the floor is filled with obvious defeat.

"Are you trying to make me pity you?" He spits, determined to make Thor talk to him, but the only reaction is Thor shuffling on his knees so that he faces away from Loki and getting up. His hands finally drop from his face, but Loki can't see. And once more, Thor just walks out.

Where is my apology? Where are my promises that this won't happen again? Where is some righteous anger that this could have been my fault as well as this? Who is this man? Who exchanged my brash, bold brother for this trembling excuse of a husband?

This time, it takes Sif almost a week to find him. Loki is notified of his return with a letter from his Mother just like before. Her tone is downright scolding and he is unhappy with her insight, but he walks dutifully to the healing chambers as she bid him.

Two Einherjar step smoothly into his way before he can approach the gate of the healing wing.

"My lord, if you need healer's assistance, we will send one to you."

He gives the man a hard look. "You are refusing to let me see my... husband."

The other guard speaks up, his tone rough and bordering on insolent. "His specific orders."

And Loki is only there to appease his Mother, he should be able to simply turn on his heel and walk away, happy that he doesn't have to deal with Thor yet. But facing the two men who regard him with badly concealed distaste, knowing that Thor doesn't want to see him... it's too much of a temptation. He smiles and and nods and with a twitch of his fingers, the torches hung on the walls flare and explode, blinding and burning the Einherjar. What a lovely loophole of being allowed to use magic on lighting devices. While the guards are shouting and panicking, he slips around them and bars the doors behind him. Past this point, no one stops him and he slinks into the hall where Thor rests in bed.

His head is bandaged, as are his legs which are propped up on many pillows.

He doesn't look very upset to see Loki.

"I didn't expect you to exert yourself and get past the guards."

"You've been gone for a week, presumably doing something foolish, and then you ban me from seeing you? I hardly think that's fair."

He says this with something akin to honesty – he didn't spend much time planning what he was going to say and this seemed as good a complaint as any.

"I would ask just one thing of you," Thor says and his voice sounds almost strict. "Do not pretend to care. You will gain nothing."

"Oh, you think I worry about your well-being for your sake? Odin would execute me if you died."

And it's clear Thor never considered that. He opens his mouth and closes it again, as if thinking better of disagreeing.

"I will strive to care more for my life then."

I will strive to care more for my life then.

And Loki thinks about it later than night, in his large, empty bed. Is that supposed to mean that Thor's ill-conceived adventures were more than that? Sif's words resonate in his mind – the beast was chewing him up... Mjolnir lying unused.

"Preposterous," he scoffs into the night.

A couple of days later, after Thor's release from the healing chambers, Loki lies awake once more, but without any plot in his mind. Instead, he is sniffing the air.

There were many issues to reconcile when he and Thor started sharing chambers, but scents were never on the list. Loki knows how Thor smells and he doesn't mind. In fact, right now, with a foreign, suspicious odour hanging in the air, he realizes how familiar and comfortable the normal state is.

There is something slightly herbal attacking his nose, falsely sweet and bitter underneath.

Thor uses a salve for the gash on his scalp, but that one smells minty and acidic; Loki knows it well because it's perfect for all bruises and cuts, the very height of Asgardian medicine. He's made it and applied it to his own or Thor's skin more times than he can count.

In the morning, Thor exits their rooms speedily as usual and Loki goes to investigate.

He finds it right away.

Tucked in the corner of a drawer of Thor's night stand, there is a vial of violet potion. Loki pops the cork, taking a whiff and indeed, this is what disturbed him.

It's a sleeping potion. It brings upon a deep, dreamless sleep.

The kind during which you don't sleep-talk, sleep-touch or sleep-cuddle your unwilling bed partners.

"Oh Thor, you cheater," Loki clucks his tongue and goes to get some honey, quite curious what the next night will bring.

He doesn't see it, but he guesses Thor took a mouthful of his now-ruined potion while Loki was in the bath, as he is already underneath the covers when Loki comes out, a trail of steam in his wake.

Soon after, he learns he misjudged Thor's reasons for acquiring this concoction.

Thor doesn't turn on him again, in fact, he stays firmly planted on his side of the bed, rigid, and he merely whimpers slightly in his sleep, but Loki recognizes the signs of a terrible nightmare right away.

He lies on his side, head propped up and looks at Thor. His blonde hair is darkened with sweat and every line of his face seems to be blurred by anguish. It gives Loki the impression that he is looking at his brother under water. There are droplets of sweat on his chest as well, where the covers don't reach and lost in thought, Loki stares at the muscular planes.

This is what pressed me onto my face when he took me.

He reaches out a hesitant finger and touches the moist skin, just above Thor's nipple. It's a bit cold and not entirely smooth, but not unpleasant either.

Next, he tries Thor's cheek. Burning hot, very smooth where the beard ends.

The eyebrows are damp and coarse.

Nose is regular temperature and mostly dry. It's not a terribly pretty nose, but it seems to do the rest of Thor's face justice.

By the time he's investigating how each of Thor's lips matches the other, it dawns on him what he's doing.

He frowns at himself, tucking his thoughts away, and wraps his hand firmly around Thor's throat. He can feel the frantic pulse beating away in a rhythm of a nightmare.

"Thor," he says loudly. Thor's eyes snap open and were it not for the hand restraining him, he would have shot up and done Norns know what. "Wake up."

Thor's heart canters in his panic and Loki waits for him to settle a little and realize what is happening. He doesn't ease the grip he has on Thor and scoots closer.

Thor's gaze finally finds him and he seems lucid enough.

"Bad conscience troubling your sleep?" Loki asks, trying not to sound too mocking. Thor swallows and Loki can feel it under his palm.

"I suppose, yes." Thor's voice is strained and rough, both from sleep and the pressure of Loki's hand. He doesn't make a move to shake Loki off him though, in fact, he stays perfectly still. Loki doesn't want to lose sights of Thor's face, but he thinks that if he looked down, he would see Thor's fists wrapped around the sheets for control.

"Hmm," Loki purrs, leaning into Thor, letting his own breath wash over his brother's burning face. "Would you like to earn my forgiveness?"

"Are you proposing a bargain?" Thor asks, sounding almost annoyed. He seems to find that idea distasteful.

"Probably not in the way you imagine. I am not a maiden to whom you gift a necklace and she lets you fondle her bosom."

Loki of course has no bosom to speak of, but Thor's gaze still slides downwards, watching Loki's lips instead of looking into his eyes, his mind supplying ideas before he can stop them. Loki wonders what those are – does he see himself slaying some magical beast, collecting its valuable parts and then bringing them to Loki, all in exchange for one kiss?

It would be a tempting idea if he didn't think even Thor wouldn't manage to believe the affection to be true. He's said as much after all, begging Loki not to pretend.

"My forgiveness," he continues, "doesn't come in the shape of me spreading my legs for you."

And Thor winces and oh, it's beautiful. Loki should try these suggestions often, because Thor has a vivid imagination and reacts to what Loki says, no matter what the context. He will store this piece of information.

"So unless that's all you want from me, maybe you should hear me out."

"Of course that's not all," Thor growls and it's possibly the most hostile tone he took with Loki since their wedding. "What do you propose?"

Loki adjusts his grip on Thor, flexing his fingers lightly to lessen Thor's air supply, just for a second.

"You said you wanted me to live. No, not just live, but to come to cherish life. Is that right?"

"Yes!"

"So look at me. I spend my days lazing about in these rooms, doing nothing. I can't do magic. I've no duties. Everybody mistrusts me. It is not my idea of fulfilling life."

"What would you like to do?" Thor asks in a calm tone. The sweat is drying on his skin and he seems to relax a little. How he manages that with Loki's hand around his throat, Loki doesn't know. "What changes would you have me make?"

"I want more of my magic," Loki says resolutely. "We needn't discuss the details right now, I will present you with specific requests later if you agree. I also wish to travel. And you will allow me to accompany you on some of your duties... of my choice."

And Thor, curse that hopeful fool, smiles almost imperceptibly and nods. "I accept."

"I didn't say what you would get in return yet."

"What I get in return is you being... content."

Inexplicably angry all of sudden, Loki releases Thor and sits back. "Very well then, we are agreed."

"Thank you."