Disclaimer: I don't own Thor, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Marvel and their respective creators. I only own any original characters that I choose to include, as well as any original plot ideas.

Chapter 23: Names

All Thor did was sleep anymore, and it was becoming troublesome. Loki had forced himself to sit in his brother's room with a book, try his hardest to read. But, with each page he turned, his fingers moved over the hole in the cover, that made with a fishing hook, and he had to look up, stare at the bed where Thor lay, and watch until he breathed again.

It made him sick, more than it had after the last hunt, to know that Thor was looking the part of a weakling. He'd had it coming though, which Loki would never say aloud, having challenged the Fire Giant as he had, having announced their identities to the enemy without knowing their intentions. Sons of Odin, the fool had bellowed. Why, were they to go around announcing themselves to everyone, it would be best to gather all the beings of the Nine Realms into the royal city and arm them. The book snapped shut at that thought, and he frowned. Dear as Thor was to him, he was an idiot, and, one of these days, he was going to get them all killed.

The chair was set a safe distance from the thunderer's bedside, but close enough to see whether or not he was still breathing.

Loki grimaced, crossed the room quickly and sat himself on the edge of the mattress, shaking his head at Thor. He'd come right out of the scrap with little more than scrapes, bruises, and burns that were still healing. But Thor, what with his big mouth and insatiable desire to prove himself to everyone and anyone, hadn't been quite so lucky. A couple of cracked ribs from his bout with the spear, damaged armor, and the skin on his palms that had been rubbed raw from the grip of Mjolnir, among various other cuts and gashes.

Strangely enough, Odin hadn't said a word to a one of them once they'd returned. He'd simply sent them off to the healing rooms and the baths to clean up, and had all but disappeared. Loki hadn't seen even a gray hair in over a week now. And it bothered him, for Loki knew that this was far from over. That, in a few days, the Allfather would be prepared to let him have it, lop his head off.

Loki cringed. If tomorrow never came, he'd be fine with it.

His eyes moved as Thor shifted, rolled over to face him and stared up with a tired gaze, blue orbs easily clouded over, exhausted. He raised an arm to his forehead, sighed and smiled. Loki did not return the look. His darkened. How strange it was that the burned patches on Thor's arms and face had nearly healed, while his were still dark and sore against his pale skin. Even the healers hadn't seemed to have the slightest idea as to why.

"It seems Father hasn't killed you yet," Thor said, and sat up with a laugh.

Loki frowned, nearly stuck his tongue out at his brother like a child, but bit down on it instead. "And what would make you think I'd be the victim of his temper?"

The thunderer looked sheepish, stared down at the white bandages on his wrists as he lay his hands in his lap. "Because you lie." Loki bristled. "You always lie for me. Tell Father it was your idea, your fault. And you shouldn't."

Well, that changed everything.

Loki sighed, refused to look at Thor, instead staring at his own reflection in the polished floor. "You don't take criticism well, Brother," he said. "You argue with opinion, insist that your own is truth; that yours is right. I have more practice holding my tongue." Their eyes met. "If I told Father that this was all your doing, I'd never hear the end of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't be stupid, Thor," he huffed, and nearly reached out to shove him. "I tell Father it's really your fault, he shouts at me, you shout right back. It goes back and forth for days, and lay the tensions on the air so thick, that no man can sleep for weeks in fear of suffocating in it." His brother only stared. "Stop trying to protect me, Thor."

The thunderer smiled, hid behind a hand as he snickered. "Well, you do a lousy job at protecting yourself."

Loki rolled his eyes, snarled and pushed off the bed, moved to where Thor's armor now lay, still cracked upon a table. He stared down at it with a sneer, thought that, for a moment, he understood his brother. How pleasant it would have been to knock that damned giant down a few pegs, teach him not to mock the Sons of Odin, finest warriors of all Asgard. The trickster raised a hand, sighed and snapped his fingers, watched as the cracks in the metal stitched themselves together, about as quickly as ice violently split upon the surface of the lake. In seconds, it was as it had been before, as it should have always been, shimmering silver and flawless their mother's complexion.

The doors opened as Loki took the breastplate in his hands, as Thor swung his legs out of bed. One of the guards, those which kept watch over the throne room, stood tall and proud, looked from one prince to the other without so much as batting an eye.

"The Allfather commands your presence," he said, and Loki felt his stomach drop. "You are to report to the great hall immediately."

The brothers quickly exchanged looks as the man turned on his heel and marched out, the great golden doors shutting heavily behind him.

They were doomed.

"Loki–"

"Keep quiet and get dressed," the trickster snapped, tossing the breastplate onto the bed. The rest of Thor's dressings quickly followed. "And be sure to keep your mouth shut."

# - # - # - #

At any other occasion, he would have been able to feel his brother's discontent, his irritation at having to hold him up, walk slowly along through the halls, for Loki was swift, couldn't stand tardiness, and often told him such. But this time, it was a curtain of relief that sat about both their shoulders, his brother's mouth moving slightly as he spoke to himself in silence. Probably rehearsal for the lecture their father was sure to give, and, for a moment, Thor could have sworn that Loki had been shaking.

He hadn't promised a thing, had only nodded once when asked to keep his thoughts to himself. They didn't need him to make this worse, Loki had told him, and their poor mother didn't need to be kept awake any more at night trying to quell Odin's temper. But, Thor thought, what could he do were their father to blame Loki, as he always did, for things that he did not do? The prince was not like the Allfather, a man dedicated solely to justice and the peace, but, in this case, in the case of his brother, he was more than willing to accept his own punishments. All of their foolishness was, for the most part, his fault.

The doors to the great hall opened wide as they approached, and Thor's eyes did as well, shocked to see that not only their mother was present, but their friends as well. They too were still a bit worse for the wear, sporting fading bruises and bandages wrapped around fingers and over heavy cuts. They all looked to the brothers, not a one with a foul glare or a snarl upon their face. Rather, it was worry, fear for the fact that the worst of the results of their journey had not yet come. Though, Thor imagined that they must have felt a great deal of relief as well, for they had only hurried off to Muspelheim to bring himself and Loki home.

Thor flinched as the doors shut heavily behind, shifted as Frigga came to touch him, gently pull his arms from Loki. She stared at him with sad eyes, a muted disappointment, and Thor knew that she understood his intentions. That, because his brother had asked, he would allow Loki to take the brunt of the Allfather's rage.

Immediately, Thor's eyes were downcast, and he refused to look at her.

"I give to you great power," Odin began, and Thor realized that he'd left Mjolnir back in his chambers. The king turned. "And, only in your greed for strength, for the sights and sounds of war, do you accept. Go swiftly behind my back and seek to do battle with the Nine Realms!"

"That is not the way of it," Loki muttered, and Thor felt the sting of the Allfather's gaze fall upon his brother.

Odin crossed the room quickly, paced about before Sif and the Warriors Three, ignored the trickster's words and went on. He raged about Thor's foolishness, how quickly he would find himself overwhelmed, were he to be placed upon the dias of the throne now, crowned successor and new king of Asgard. He spoke not of the warrior's stupidity, but of their prowess, their courage and their duty to their homeland, that they had risked more than just their lives, their honor, to bring home their two wayward princes.

Thor shut his eyes and grimaced, hated the fact that their father was always so quick to anger, so quick to judge, but slow to forgive and forget. He hated knowing that his brother always took the beating for him, the brother he'd been given to love and protect. It shouldn't have been Loki lying for him, saying that he was the cause of all their mistakes. It should have been him, the elder brother, taking responsibility for his own damned foolishness.

"Not the way of it," Odin repeated, coming to stand before the brothers. Thor lifted his gaze slightly, wanted to speak out against all this injustice. "Am I meant to believe that you," he glowered at Loki, "were the cause of this ridiculous farce? That you forced your brother into such madness, nearly cost you both your lives?!"

Thor's jaw dropped, heard the sound echo a hundred times over in his ears as Loki was struck, stood silent and biting his bottom lip to keep from giving Odin what he had coming.

"Do you think your lies are so well-crafted that I would turn my blind eye to them and not see the truth?! Do you take me for a fool, boy?!" the king demanded.

His hand reached out, pushed Loki back and into their mother's waiting arms. Though he would surely be reprimanded for it later, Thor could not find it in himself to care. He couldn't take this anymore.

"It is my fault, Father," he said, and felt Loki's eyes boring into the back of his head. "I proposed, some months ago, that we leave Asgard, explore the Nine Realms and find a more suitable place."

The words took the king by surprise, his anger suddenly washed away in a tide of shock. "Why would you–"

Thor swallowed, turned back over his shoulder to look at his brother, still cradled in Frigga's arms, whose eyes demanded that he not utter a word of their private conversations. If he did, Loki would make sure that he paid dearly for it.

"Father likes you best, you know."

A sigh escaped the king, his hand coming to rest on Thor's shoulder.

"What's done is best forgotten," he said, and Thor could not believe what he had heard. Odin turned away a moment, raised a hand and caused Mjolnir to fly through the open archway of the window. He offered the hammer to Thor whose fingers closed hesitantly around it. "Take care of it, my son. For we will hold your celebration in a few days' time."

Thor was speechless, could only watch as Odin strode past him and out the doors, leaving the rest of them to stand in shock and wonder. His friends stared with wide eyes, each looking to the other as if to ask if this were but a joke.

The prince turned, the hammer feeling heavy in his hand as his eyes met Loki's smoldering gaze.

That, it seemed, settled it. His brother had been right all along. Their choices did not define Odin's reaction at the time of lecture and punishment, but their names. Only one of them could be right in the king's eye.