A/N: Hello lovelies! Did you enjoy the first part? Here is the second. There will be just one other part after this.
In the mean time, I would like to thank iibfn, bohumut, K4iba1, Adriene Alexandra and PatchworkReader for following and favouriting my story. This chapter is dedicated to you guys. Hope you like it.
So without farther ado, DIG IN!
Disclaimer: All original characters of the movie 'Thor' are the express property of Marvel. I just own the story.
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Chapter Two
His footsteps were muffled by the silencing spell he had cast around himself. The vault stood silent like a tomb. Everything was as he remembered them. Only one plinth stood empty.
Mjolnir.
…'It was forged from the heart of a dying star, by those renowned Dwarves of Nidalvellir that you have read and heard about in stories and legends. They presented it to Asgard as a gift for bringing peace to the Nine Realms. It is a weapon worthy of a king.'
'Then why don't you wield it, Father?'
'I don't choose to. Gungnir is worthy enough for me. However, the two of you are free to wield it should you choose to do so'…
He urged his feet to move forward. With each step, dread crept up his limbs and crawled under his skin, finally settling like a block of ice in his chest. He felt cold and empty inside. He glanced down at his hands. They were as he always remembered them, pale and smooth, almost like those of a lady.
And yet, and yet –
He had seen with his very eyes.
The marks. The telltale blue.
There was only one way of making sure.
His feet stopped. He stood facing the swirling casket.
…when touched by unprotected hands, it gives the person a severe frostbite. Only a Jotun can touch it bare-handed…
His hands slowly rose towards the ornately carved handle. He dreaded what he was doing and yet some part of his brain wanted to see, to be sure, to have some kind of closure. The suspense was too much.
His fingers curled around the cold solid structure. He winced inwardly, waiting for the sharp, sizzling pain.
But it never came.
And he knew. He knew what it meant.
His mind screamed in denial. The ground seemed to slip away from under his feet as he watched the foreign yet somehow familiar icy blue creep up the tip of his fingers and towards his hands and arms.
He grasped the handle more firmly, intent on picking up the casket now. Intent on seeing more.
So it was true.
So he was –
'Stop!' The sharp command halted his thoughts. His vision turned red. Slowly he lowered the cask back onto its plinth. His thoughts clashed and swirled around his head like the blue light swirling agitatedly inside the ice casket.
'Am I cursed?' his voice sounded foreign to his own ears. As if some other being or creature was talking in his stead.
'No,' came the answer, loud and strong.
'What am I?'
He knew. Yet he wanted to hear the truth from the lips of the one who had hidden this hideous fact from him. He knew what he would hear, that it would only deepen the ragged wound forming in his chest. And yet he wanted it. It was like when a person picks at the scabs of a healing wound, knowing well that it would only bleed again if he did so.
There was a pause. A pause that held all his beliefs, his idea of self in suspense. In limbo.
Then –
'You're my son.'
Liar, hissed the ugly creature that seemed to have newly awakened inside him. Loki slowly turned to face the one he had always called Father. Gazed into the familiar wizened face as his own returned back to pale white, the marks disappearing with each passing instance. His eyes were no longer red. Neither were they dry.
'What more than that?'
Odin hesitated, his eyes showing worry and shame and something close to regret.
But Loki had his answer already. He began stepping towards the sweeping stone stairs where Odin stood, his footsteps slow and deliberate.
'The Casket was not the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?' his eyes bored into Odin's, even as tears sparkled in their depths.
He came to a stop at the foot of the stairs, looking up at where the Allfather stood.
Odin was silent. His head hung low. Then his beard twitched again. 'No.'
'In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple and I found a baby,' Odin continued after a pause. 'Small for a giant's offspring. Abandoned, suffering, left to die… Laufey's son.'
Loki's head reeled sideways, out of control. His stomach fell to the bottom of his shoes. He felt nauseated. Of all the shocking things he had heard and seen so far, this was the cruelest.
Laufey's son…Laufey's son?
Oh the irony of it…
'Laufey's son,' he repeated quietly, tasting the name in his tongue, as if prodding a fresh wound to see if it would hurt as much as it did the first time.
It did.
Loki blinked, disoriented with shock and denial, unable to fathom anything clearly.
All this time, the Allfather waited, watched, quietly. 'Yes.'
Loki swallowed. Emotions, a million of them attacked his mind and threatened to drown him. They flashed and assailed his brain, tearing out from his ragged throat the one question that was looming in between them like a huge black wall.
'Why?'
Odin remained still.
'You were knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?'
'You were an innocent child,' began Odin, but the ugly vicious creature thrashed inside Loki again. Liar.
'No,' Loki cut in, his eyes sparkling with tears, 'You took me for a purpose. What was it?'
Silence stretched between them like a vast ocean. It pressed against Loki's chest, squeezing the breath out of his lungs, deafening him. His head buzzed. He could not abide it. He could not abide this suspense.
'TELL ME!' the scream was wrenched out from him, like a cry of pain.
Tears spilled down his cheeks and wet his chin.
Odin's eyes were wary. As if he was looking down at an injured wild animal and was afraid to approach it. Then words started spilling out of his mouth.
'I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day. Bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace. Through you.'
It hurt. It hurt. Every pore screamed in agony, thrashed and flailed, trying to deny the truth. The painful, ugly truth. Loki couldn't breathe, his lungs were frozen. He choked, taking short, sharp gulps of air. He did not want to hear it. He did not want to hear anymore.
'What?' he gasped in disbelief.
'But those plans no longer matter,' Odin lowered his eyes, avoiding Loki's gaze.
The creature stirred again, rearing its spiked, hideous head. No. Don't you dare look away. Don't you dare shy away from your betrayal. Look at me!
Tears were falling more freely now. Loki could feel them slide down his neck and soak his shirt.
'So I am nothing more than a stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me?' his mind whirled.
'Why do you twist my words?' Odin sounded weary. But Loki was beyond cajoling.
He whipped his eyes around, another question forcing its way up to his tongue. 'You could have told me what I was from the beginning. Why didn't you?'
Odin's voice softened, turning almost pleading, 'You're my son. I only wanted to protect you from the truth.'
'Why,' stuttered Loki, overwhelmed by warring emotions and fighting for words, 'because I-I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?'
'No. No…'
Memories flashed through Loki's eyes. Memories that seemed insignificant before but that now bore a different meaning. Odin's indifference to his magical abilities…his weakness…the feeling that he didn't seem to belong…the loneliness…the neglect…
They flashed before him like pieces of a giant jigsaw puzzle and fell into place on their own accord.
It all made sense now.
His eyes flashed up again, only to find the Allfather thudding down onto the stairway, looking more vulnerable and fragile than he had ever seen him. Yet it did not melt the ice building around his heart like a wall. He pressed on, seeking to wound, to hurt Odin as much as he was hurting inside.
He lashed out, not bothering to think what he was uttering. He poured his heart out, all the hurt, the neglect that had lain dormant in his chest all through the years, as he had watched Thor being favoured everywhere he went, as he had felt the disappointment in Odin's face when he had failed to impress him with his magic. It all added up to one thing. That he was never the son he had thought himself to be. He had always, always been the outsider. A crow in borrowed feathers. That he never really had a chance to be like Thor.
He roared and he raged. And when he finally stopped, feeling drained and worn, the sight of the Allfather, lying still as death on the stone steps robbed him of his breath.
What had he done? What had he done?
His fearful eyes watched and his heart threatened to break his ribcage as one hand stretched out to touch the gnarled fingers.
They were still, but warm.
Slightly relieved, he sank down beside his father and shouted for help.
As six guards rushed in, and clattered up the steps, carefully bearing their ruler's unconscious figure to the sleeping chambers, Loki looked around at the vault, at the slanting walls that met at the top, the flickering, dancing lights and the pulsating blue flame at the end of the aisle.
Silence engulfed everything once again.
And in this profound silence Loki realised something that set his heart beating madly against his ribcage.
That he was truly and utterly alone.
TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL
Loki paced in his chambers, the hem of his black riding coat rustling against his knees. The night sky shone with a quiet light from the North. Clouds of purple, brown and green swirled by, stars glittering in their depths like glass splinters caught in a multicoloured fabric. A cool wind blew from the sea.
The peaceful scene clashed with the turmoil going on inside Loki's mind.
He sensed the resentment of all the courtiers, like needles in his back. They threw baleful glances his way whenever he was not looking. He knew that Lady Sif and the Warriors Three were thinking of rebelling against him. He knew they hated to see him on the golden throne, holding the spear of his father.
But he was innocent in all this. He had not snatched Gungnir from his father's slack hands. He had not climbed up the golden steps and claimed the throne for his own. He had most definitely not asked to be proclaimed king. It was his mother who had handed him the scepter, the symbol of power, calmly asking him to fill in for his father. And he had been unable to refuse.
Yet it was ironic, wasn't it? Thor, who had been so eager to be king, almost clamouring after the title, had been banished, whereas he, who had never hunkered after that kind of power, knowing the responsibilities accompanying them, had been practically handed over the kingdom in a silver platter. Did it signify that he was worthy after all?
Loki snorted at the ridiculousness of it all. Of course not.
Circumstances.
Circumstances had forced him to take up the mantle of king. Nothing else.
He looked back on the evening he had sat watching his father. Odin's figure had been covered with the sheen of sleep. He had looked down into the wrinkled face and wondered what more secrets he had been keeping from his sons.
'So why did he lie?'
And his mother, sitting across from him beside the other side of Father, had smiled and replied in the soothing tones that had always managed to calm his tantrums in childhood.
'He kept the truth from you so that you'd never feel different. You are our son, Loki,' she said, leaning slightly towards him, 'and we, your family.'
Those words had slightly assured him, even as he had kept his face impassive. It had, however, not been enough to sooth the raging emotions within him – sadness, anger, a sense betrayal.
Loki sucked in a breath of fresh air. He replayed the words his mother had uttered about Thor repeatedly in his mind…
'But what hope is there for Thor?'
'There's always a purpose to everything your father does.'
So there was still hope for Thor. But would he have learnt the lesson Father had wanted him to by the time he returned? Loki doubted that.
No, he thought as he paced his chambers furiously. No, he would have to do something himself. He would have to ensure that Thor would stay put where he has been exiled until Loki had rescued the kingdom from the jumble his rash brother had left behind.
And soon.
TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL
Shrouded in the veil of invisibility, Loki watched the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents as they escorted, almost dragged Thor into the safety of the plastic tunnels. They marched him down long, low passageways dotted by fluorescent lamps, their footsteps ringing on the metal footboards.
They turned down a small lit room and climbed a set of stairs, frog-marching Thor between them. Then quickly down another lamp-lit plastic tunnel and finally into the main compound. The air inside was slightly warmer than the outside. The whole place smelled of sterile disinfectants and chemicals. Computers buzzed, transmitting signals and data to other sources as technicians and scientists walked around, discussing and puzzling the strange incident that had just happened.
Loki understood what had happened.
Stripped of his strength and deemed unworthy in the eyes of the Allfather, Thor had not been able to pick up Mjolnir. And it had broken his spirit completely. Loki had felt his heart give a little at the pathetic and hoarse howl that had been torn from his brother's throat as he had crashed to the muddy, slippery ground, finally defeated.
But this was not the time for emotions to govern his actions. He must forget his heart and think with his head.
He set out in pursuit.
The agents had detained Thor in a bare room. It was entirely lit with the same sterile white lights that dotted the campus. The effect was almost blinding. There was no furniture inside except a chair that Thor occupied. He sat slumped forward, his shoulders drooping, his eyes downcast. He swallowed from time to time.
Loki stepped forward, intent on getting this whole thing over with. Then he jerked back.
A short, shrewd-faced agent had walked into the room. He must be the head of the agents, surmised Loki. He had observed the man issuing orders with a strange apparatus held to his mouth during the skirmish. Coulson, they had called him.
Loki waited outside, getting impatient by the minute. He had not much time to spare. Besides, he did not want to linger. He was not sure the spell he had cast to shroud himself from the all-seeing eyes of Heimdall would hold much longer. He waited outside, tapping his foot impatiently.
The agent was still questioning Thor, who sat stony faced, unwilling to meet the agent's eyes.
This was getting irritable, Loki thought. He drew in a breath and muttered a spell. Suddenly the pager inside Coulson's pocket went off. The man drew it out, gazed at it, muttered something to Thor and walked out.
Loki seized the chance.
As the door swung shut, he threw off the veil of invisibility, and stood before his brother.
Thor looked up. And froze.
'Loki! What are you doing here?'
Loki hardened himself. Thor would understand later why he was doing all this.
'I had to see you,' he replied quietly.
Thor paused, looking worried. 'What's happened? Tell me. Is it Jotunheim?' He leaned forward, pleading. 'Let me explain to Father.'
'Father is dead.' Loki almost bit his tongue uttering that lie. But there was no other way.
Thor's face registered blank shock.
'What?' he managed to whisper eventually.
'Your banishment, the threat of a new war, it was too much for him to bear…'
Thor mouthed wordlessly, searching for something to say, too overwhelmed by the dreadful news. Loki hurried on.
'You mustn't blame yourself. I know that you loved him. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen.'
A lone tear slid down his brother's eye and clung to his eye lashes. He was trying hard not to scream, beat his chest, cry out in remorse. And Loki felt each suppressed emotion pierce his chest. Sorry Brother, he muttered inside his mind. Sorry that I have to do this to you.
He pressed on. 'It was so cruel to put the hammer within your reach, knowing that you could never lift it.'
'The burden of the throne has fallen to me now.'
Thor looked up at that, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Please don't say it Brother, Loki thought fervently. Please don't make me deny you.
'Can I come home?'
Loki sighed inwardly, his throat refusing to unclog. 'The truce with Jotunheim is conditional upon your exile.'
'Yes, but couldn't we find a way –'
'And Mother has forbidden your return,' cut in Loki. He couldn't prolong this torture any longer. Uttering those lies has drained him somehow.
'This is goodbye, Brother. I am so sorry,' he wanted to pour all his apologies into those four insignificant words. But he knew it would never be enough.
Thor straightened, his face taking on a majestic expression, that of a true prince of Asgard. 'No,' he muttered softly. 'I am sorry.'
He swallowed again, searching for words. 'Thank you for coming here.'
Loki gazed long into the face of his brother. 'Farewell,' he said at last, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.
Thor inclined his head slightly, mute in his agony and despair.
With a last lingering look, Loki turned away.
There. That would ensure Thor wouldn't want to try other ways to get back any sooner. By then Loki would have brought back peace to the Realm Eternal. Perhaps by then Odin would have awakened and recalled Thor home. And perhaps then, the Allfather would accept Loki as a worthy son. Perhaps.
A thought struck him.
He turned his feet towards the crater outside the complex. Shrouded in invisibility once again, he walked the distance. He could sense the faint vibrations coming from Mjolnir. Tendrils of magic that beckoned to him.
Technicians crowded the closely guarded area. Some were taking readings with strange, elongated sticks that buzzed and crackled, while others consulted charts and discussed the matter. He stepped forward onto the sludge. The hammer stood half- buried in a piece of rock.
With a pounding heart Loki seized the handle and pulled.
It did not budge.
He yanked at it harder with both hands, gritting his teeth.
Nothing.
Loki snorted silently. Of course. He had not expected otherwise.
He glimpsed up at the cloudy sky, wondering if Heimdall had caught this small episode at all. Hopefully he hadn't.
Loki wrapped his coat snugly around him, turned and walked out of the compound.
TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL
Loki once again stood at the threshold of the Observatory, his green cloak fluttering behind him impatiently. And this time too, the golden eyes of Heimdall were fixed coldly on him. He smirked. He had felt Heimdall's gaze burn a hole on his back all the way down in the cold, hard, frozen ground of Jotunheim. That's why he hadn't bothered to cover his tracks. He had taken the familiar way home. The Bifrost gate still spun behind him.
'What troubles you, Gatekeeper?' he sneered.
Heimdall refused to take his eyes off of him. 'I turned my gaze upon you in Jotunheim, but could neither see you nor hear you.'
Thank the Nine Realms for that, thought Loki. Otherwise he would have been hanged, drawn and quartered by now for what he was planning.
'You were shrouded from me, like the Frost Giants that entered this realm.'
Loki sauntered forwards. 'Perhaps your senses have weakened after your many years of service.'
'Or perhaps someone has found a way to hide that which he does not wish me to see,' countered the formidable gatekeeper.
Loki changed tracks, continuing to circle the raised dais. 'You have great power, Heimdall. Did Odin ever fear you?'
'No,' Heimdall replied.
'And why is that?'
'Because he is my king and I am sworn to obey.'
'He was your king,' Loki swooped in. 'And you're sworn to obey me now. Yes?'
The gatekeeper remained silent, his gaze fixed on Loki's face. After ages, he unlocked his jaws. 'Yes.'
Loki had heard whatever he had wanted to hear. 'Then you will open the Bifrost to no one until I have repaired the damage that my brother has done.' He hurried away, striding towards the Asbru Bridge and the twinkling city that lay on its other side.
He needed to prepare. He had royal guests to entertain.
TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL
Cold fury burned in Loki's chest. He had trusted Heimdall. He had trusted him.
And Heimdall had gone and done the one thing he had been forbidden to do. He had dared to commit treason. He had dared to open the Bifrost, when his king had specifically instructed him not to do so. Loki had watched with his own eyes the flashing beam of the Bifrost shoot into the universe only moments ago.
Well, this called for drastic measures.
Loki's feet slapped on the hard stone steps as he hurried down, down into the very heart of the palace. To the weapons' vault. He knew what he had to do. And he could not let a mere gatekeeper disrupt his well laid plan. Not now that he had come this close to success.
He quickened his pace. The ornate doors to the chamber loomed. With a silent wave of his hands he threw the doors open. The smooth floor echoed his footsteps into the eerie silence.
There. At the end of the aisle. Where the ice casket stood.
He hurried forward, his cloak trailing behind him noiselessly.
Taking a deep breath, he gripped Gungnir and stamped it on the floor. The thud ricocheted across the room. Loki waited with bated breath.
Then the metal grills began to retract, leaving a wide open space. And from it emerged a giant silhouette.
The Destroyer.
Its featureless face turned to Loki, awaiting instructions.
'Ensure my brother does not return…destroy everything.'
The Destroyer bowed its head in acknowledgement.
TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL
'Brother, whatever I have done wrong to you, whatever I have done to lead you to this, I am truly sorry.'
The familiar deep voice of his brother reached Loki's ears. He was looking down at Thor through the eyes of the Destroyer. All round Thor the little town lay in ruins. The Destroyer had seen to that. Black smoke billowed from many a building, curling up to mix with the strong rays of the sun. Cars lay on their sides, crumpled like toys. The whole area was deserted, except for the four Asgardian warriors and the three Midgardian scientists. And Thor.
Loki stroked his mouth with his fingers, wanting to see where this would lead to. What his oaf of a brother had in mind.
'But these people are innocent. Taking their lives would earn you nothing,' continued Thor.
Loki rubbed his lips thoughtfully. He was astonished, to say the truth. He had not expected his brother to realize this fact so quickly. Thor had grown in the past few days, which translated to a few months in Midgardian chronology. It seemed only yesterday that he was bent on destroying the whole race of Jotunheim. What would he do, once he realized that his own brother was the monster he had once vowed to hunt down and slay, mused Loki.
And all the time the Destroyer was advancing towards his brother. They came to a stop in the middle of the square.
'So take mine,' said Thor, looking up at the faceless steel mask of the Destroyer. 'And end this.'
Loki felt a familiar twinge of guilt shoot through his heart. His hand crashed onto the arm of the golden throne.
The Destroyer stopped, its open maw closing up. It paused. Then slowly turned away, as if accepting Thor's surrender graciously.
The blow came out of the blue.
The shock had propelled Loki down the steps. Nooooo…What if – ? What if Thor was fatally wounded? What if the Destroyer had misunderstood what he had instructed?
Thor crashed to the ground, his face bloodied and bruised.
Please let him live, please let him be alive, Loki prayed fervently.
The tiny Midgardian had flung herself onto his chest. She was shaking him, urging him not to give up.
Loki's eyes began to prickle. He turned away from the scene, intent on hiding his face.
And then something stopped him on his tracks.
A whooshing. A streaking flame across the sky.
Mjolnir.
Rushing, flying through the air, hurrying towards its worthy master at last.
Loki blinked, trying to comprehend the entire situation.
Helheim and all its hideous demons, his mind screamed. His entire plan was backfiring. He had not seen this coming! This meant only one thing. That Thor had proved his worthiness and would soon return to Asgard. Which meant – he did not have time!
He knew the time of confrontation was drawing near. Knew that Thor would be hunting him down once he found a way to get back.
He hurried away towards the palace gates, calling for his horse. He needed to get to the Observatory.
The time had come for his plans to be set into action at once.
TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL
It had happened as he had feared. Thor had burst into the chambers, confronting him just when he was reassuring his mother that everything would be alright; that Laufey was dead by his hands and the rest of them would pay for what they had done.
Thor had burst in. Demanding that Loki tell her how he had sent the Destroyer after his own brother to kill him.
If only he knew. If only he understood why Loki had done all this, how he had faced one betrayal after the other in a bid to save Asgard from the brink of war. And how, despite all difficulties, he had been able to prevent the war after all.
Did they not realize that? Did they not see? What he had done? What he had sacrificed?
But Thor did not have the brains or the patience to understand them.
And so they fought. In the Observatory. As the Bifrost built and built. Ripping Jotunheim apart.
'You cannot kill an entire race, Brother,' Thor bellowed.
Loki's voice turned silky and menacing. 'Why not?'
Madness flowed through his veins. He wanted to laugh maniacally. Thor, the advocate of the Jotuns? Thor, the savior of other races? It was a laughable notion indeed.
And it was the truth.
That after all this time, Thor indeed had proved to be the worthy one! That Odin had seen the glimmer of hope all along and chosen correctly! So was Odin also right about him? About the one he had adopted? Had he hid Loki's ancestry to keep him from turning into one of the monster that he had descended from?
Well, perhaps it was too late now.
Jealousy and anger stole through his veins like fast acting poisons. And now Loki was blinded, deaf, fighting his own demons and his own brother.
'I have changed.'
'So have I,' countered Loki. 'Now fight me.'
And he dashed the spear across his brother's face.
The clash of the weapons echoed through the chamber. The two brothers grappled with each other, trying their best to overpower the other. But this was no friendly skirmish of childhood. This was a fight for what was right. And what was wrong.
Thor flew towards the prone body of Loki, intent on smashing him with Mjolnir. At the last moment, Loki snatched up the royal scepter and blocked the blow.
BOOM.
They were blasted out of the Observatory, flung onto the rainbow bridge. Loki rolled off towards the edge.
Thor stood up, looking. His brother hung onto the edge of the bridge, his eyes afraid, his voice pleading.
'Brother, please.'
And the mighty Thor, the worthy son knelt down to help his errant brother up. Worthy but dimwitted, snorted Loki in his mind.
Thor grasped the hand. It disappeared. Loki disappeared.
Thor whirled round. And was met with the sharp point of the spear, Loki laughing maniacally from the other end.
He was flung on his back. And all round him more and more Loki popped up, looking down at him and laughing in their united voices.
'Enough.' The roar rang out.
Thunder slammed into Mjolnir.
And the real Loki fell over, stunned at the impact.
Thor got up slowly, walked up to where his brother lay spread-eagled on the Asbru Bridge.
Loki watched Thor, his eyes betraying the fear of the next blow. But it never came. Instead –
Thor deliberately placed Mjolnir on the middle of his brother's chest. Then calmly turned and walked towards the raging, spinning Observatory.
That was a harder blow than Loki had expected. The fact that he could not budge the hammer from his chest spelled out how unworthy he still remained despite doing everything for the benefit of the Realm.
He grunted and cursed, yelling at Thor, who was intent on reaching the Observatory. But Thor was oblivious to it all.
The Observatory was now aglow with the power surging through the Bifrost. It sucked in almost everything, churning the air around it into a whirlwind. Thor kept stepping forward, as it spun like a top. His feet slid across the rainbow tiles as the wind rushed and howled around him.
Loki continued to curse and yell.
'Look at you…the Mighty Thor…with all your strength, and what good does it do you now, huh?'
Thor did not answer.
'Do you hear me, Brother? There's nothing you can do!'
Loki watched Thor pause. Perhaps now he would see that it was all futile, that the Bifrost could not be stopped now. It was too late. Perhaps now his brother would surrender to the in evitable.
But what is this? What was Thor doing?
Loki narrowed his eyes. Thor seemed to be standing in the middle of the bridge, his arm stretched back, waiting.
Suddenly the weight pinning Loki to the ground disappeared. He looked up. The hammer was flying towards the outstretched arms of his brother.
Thor clutched it, hesitating for a nanosecond. The next he smashed it onto the surface of the glittering Asbru Bridge.
Loki was struck dumb.
'What are you doing?'
Realisation dawned. Loki's eyes widened in shock.
Thor paid no heed. Again and again Mjolnir smashed onto the bridge. Deep cracks began to appear on the once indestructible bridge.
'If you destroy the bridge,' Loki screamed, trying to deter Thor, 'you'll never see her again.'
But his brother seemed deaf to his pleas.
Loki snatched up the fallen spear, making a last effort to stop Thor. He sprinted towards his brother, Gungnir raised, just as Mjolnir crashed.
The bridge exploded. They were flung into space, like rag dolls in the hands of naughty children.
For a moment, time stood suspended.
And then they began to fall. Down down, towards the abyss below, where the black, foaming sea fell off the edge of the Realm.
Loki flailed his free hand, trying to grasp anything within reach. He fell past the jagged end of the destroyed bridge.
His hand connected with one end of the scepter.
Thor was clutching at the other end.
They were falling, the two brothers, together, into a sure death, holding the only thing that had come between them. Loki saw the horror in his brother's eyes, even as he knew it was reflected in his eyes as well. This was it. This was the end.
At the last moment Thor's leg was snatched up by Odin. And they hung over the abyss. Suspended in space, a tiny bit of fabric anchoring them there.
Loki could feel his sweaty hands slip down the smooth handle of the spear.
He turned his tear-streaked face to Father. Perhaps he would understand why Loki had done all this. Perhaps now he would recognize his son's efforts.
Loki gazed into the wrinkled lines of his father's face.
'I could have done it, Father.' His voice rang out like a child's. Pleading. Entreating. 'I could have done it. For you. For all of us.' His voice choked on the last words.
He waited eagerly. For the words that would assure him, that would calm his roiling thoughts.
But they never came.
Loki continued to gaze into the stoic face of Odin. And all the memories came rushing back. All his well-laid plans, his hardwork and intellect, everything rushed back like deluge, and then…
'No, Loki.'
…everything scattered like a house of cards. In a tremendous jolt of pain, Loki realized that he would never be worthy. Never be given that which he most coveted. A place in his father's heart. As a true son like Thor. He would always remain the runt, the weak adopted pet that Odin had taken pity on.
All hope died in his eyes, snuffed up like the flame of a candle. This was more painful than annihilation. He could not live with the disappointment of the one whom he always wanted to please. Death was better.
The last bit of warmth in his heart hardened into ice.
And so he let go.
TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL
To be continued…
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