10.

Thor read by candlelight that night. He even ate a cold dinner from food he got for himself on the way home.

"I hope you appreciate all I do for you," he said to the shadows as he sat at the kitchen table, again in candlelight, drinking cold never heated tea and munching on a sandwich from the village shop. It was, he thought, the biggest sacrifice he could make – the cooking that he so much loved here. But he did it willingly; it having occurred to him that the more energy he could save the more Loki could use. He wondered if Loki's inability to tell him more coherent information was not in part due to the failing electricity supply, and if it was then the more he could save for him the more it would help them both to unravel the past. He found himself saying all this aloud to the shadows as he went about the house.

He was becoming used now to the way the shadows shifted, that way that was by no means in accordance with what he and the light and any objects in the room were doing. He was starting to think he could read replies in the way they moved; indeed he felt like he was engaged in conversation. It seemed to Thor that whilst the shadows were glad of all he was telling them they were a little disgruntled as well. He wondered if Loki was angry with him, or if not angry – because he could not feel it as angry – then certainly impatient.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked the air, getting aggravated in turn at this perceived impatience – "I've not even lived here a week!"

But answer came there none. Thor sensed a sullenness in the shift in the shadows that he could not entirely understand. Nor could he gather why Loki was not making himself more known when he, Thor, was offering up everything he could by way of means to empower himself. He was tempted to turn a light on to read by just to annoy him right back, but thought maybe, just maybe Loki was saving his energy for Thor's dreams. He hung on to that as he got into bed to read about Ragnarok by candlelight, and what he read disturbed him.

His first dreams that night ran high on the agitation those stories had left in his mind. He woke up sweating from a nightmare of snakes. He had dreamt of a great banquet where all the gods had sat feasting. But when the trickster spoke for the first time his tongue lashed out barbed and crooked from between his lips, cutting and slicing whomsoever he turned to. Thor watched it all from within, paralyzed as the blood flew and the great trestle table ran over with a wave of red. Then the trickster was running and he was running alongside, there was water and gasping and the faint suggestion of ice. He tried to speak but his mouth would not open, he was no longer sure whether he was alongside the trickster or the god himself. When he tried to open his mouth again he felt the stitches strain and cut at his lips, trickles of blood running down from his chin and then everything was stinging, a constant steady drip of something foul burning his skin and he was held tight in crushing writhing coils that glistened like oil and he was burning up, he surely had to be.

And then he was running again, this time he was running along the clifftop dreading the spot to which his feet would take him. He wanted to stop running but he could not order his legs to still. He dreaded the tree and clifftop and the men most of all but they were there, of course they were there. He could hear their voices from where his feet froze him, finally and when he did not want them to.

"We're really going to do this?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"You leave that to the make-up department and special effects."

This voice was grim but somebody laughed softly at the words.

"For god's sake, do you realise what you're saying?"

"Yes. What's the matter? He's been nothing but trouble anyway. Nobody likes him. We'll get away with this, we always do."

The silence on the clifftop in the wake of this was agonising and cold.

"Fine."

"You are sure?"

"Yes," the speaker took a deep breath that Thor could hear down the hill – "Yes. Fine. On closing night – we do it all for real."

Slowly they all nodded and just as slowly, with paralyzing inevitability they turned to look at him. Thor screamed at himself to wake up – which usually worked – but he could not. He was squeezing his eyes tight shut but he was still on the clifftop shaking in the wake of this horror.

"Thor," he did not want to turn around, fearing one of the shadow men behind him.

"Thor."

He staggered back, his hand grasped for the railing that had stood between him and the cliff edge. It was not there in the dream. He flailed wildly, for a horrible sick moment starting to feel himself fall already. But he had not started to fall.

"Thor, for god's sake".

He felt himself pulled back onto the ground and not entirely gently deposited on his hands and knees on the damp grass. He squinted up. Loki was looking down at him shaking his head.

"Thor, this isn't helping".

"Loki –" he gasped – "I know –" his eyes were streaming, though he was not sure if the cold was from the wind or from fear – "I'm sorry Loki, I'm so sorry –"

"Oh god," Loki sighed as though Thor was boring him – "Don't be. It's done, it's all done. You're missing the point. You've been missing the point from the start, you oaf. Of all the idiots I could connect with –"

Somehow Loki's stream of vaguely abusive irritation was making Thor feel better, comforted almost. Loki broke off and shook his head again, looking down at him and extending his hand with a tolerant sigh to haul him to his feet.

"Oh –" Loki paused, bit his lip, looked at Thor again, something warm and captivated glimmering in his eyes – "But you are sunshine – of course. Of course you are –" he said it without a hint of irony, lovingly almost, and as though he had just realised something important. Thor realised too that Loki had never been this clear to him before, this real.

"Yes," Loki seemed to read his thoughts again – "I should thank you for that, I suppose. I know you do love your cooking. You look clearer too – you were blurry before like – " he laughed a little, not entirely humorously – "Well, like a ghost."

"You're the ghost," Thor pointed out.

"Yes, congratulations, and you're the idiot."

"I love you".

Loki smiled then; just for a brief few seconds his face transformed, soft and almost golden and Thor reached out to stroke the corners of that smile gently. Loki kissed his fingers and then sighed.

"Look this is all very nice, but you're still missing the bloody point –"

"No," Thor shook his head – "I have to go back to the theatre don't I? That first day I was there you were leading me to something. Something I need to find –"

"It's a recording," Loki said impatiently – "There's a recording there of that final night's performance. The last song. They said I had to record it in advance, it would make it more realistic on the last night if they played it as an over voice rather than have me really sing it. I was stupid. I should have known. But it's there, the last song, but it's not important –"

"No Loki – I'll get it. I will, you have to let me –"

"I SAID IT'S NOT IMPORTANT!" Loki screamed it suddenly, so ferociously Thor took a step back – back from the frustration and fury in that voice, flaring deadly in the silver – green eyes.

Thor stepped back. Right off the cliff edge and now he was falling, it seemed for a very long time; he could see the black expanse of cruel water coming to meet him and could do nothing to stop it. When he landed it was jarring, shattering and freezing. The water closed over his head and it was ice, he was enclosed in ice on all sides trying to scream for the cold.

He woke up screaming – or he thought he was at first. In truth no sound came out. He was still cold. He shivered with it, chilled to the bone in spite of the early morning sunlight.

_x_

Oooh twisty – hell well I hope it's twisty and not just obvious where this is going; hopefully in answering a few questions I've thrown up so new ones! :-)