Brothers

A/N: You guys are amazing! I got over fifty e-mails pertaining to this story in the first twelve hours after I posted it! Much love to those who encouraged me to continue this! :)

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Loki stared at his door for hours. Thor and Frigga ceaselessly encouraged him to leave his room, if only for dinner. He ignored their requests for the most part, but the thought lingered in his mind. A more innocent part of him longed to join his family for dinner, but he refused to let that part of him bow down to their wishes. He figured that was what they wanted. For him to just crumble under their "love" and return to the life they once had. Loki wasn't foolish. He knew things would never be the same, regardless if he wanted them to be or not. Yet, despite his iron hold on his decision to distance himself from his once-family, his eyes still lingered on the wood of the door.

The thought of willingly sitting at the dining table with them made a curl of nervousness settle within his stomach. In the past, Thor carried the conversations through their meals, uncaring if anybody listened or not to his stories. Odin would often times give commentary to Thor's tales, if just to keep the conversation going. Loki spent most of his time silently listening, enjoying his meal and his brother's antics. Their routine was a comfortable one; one that nobody actively attempted to change. But now… Now the idea of sitting at the table with them made Loki feel so very bare. Every silence would be tense with anticipation of his next move, his next word. He would be completely vulnerable. No part of that dinner sounded inviting.

And yet, his mind would continuously recall the hopeful look in Frigga's eyes as she reminded him about dinner during her visits. He hated that he intentionally disappointed her night after night, but his mind would sardonically remind him that it should have been expected. He was already such a disappointment.

This night, Loki was on his feet. He wasn't pacing- not yet, at least- but he stood facing his door, thinking, debating. After nearly two weeks secluded within his room, he was starting to feel the effects of self-imprisonment. Sleep eluded him, distractions were few and far between, and the thoughts running through his head were starting to irritate him. As much as he hated the idea, Frigga and Thor were right about him needing to leave his room once in a while.

Yet, he was anxious, in a rather unsettling way. He decided that he would much rather face the rage of every Chitauri he scorned than sit at a dinner table across from Odin. He hadn't heard anything about the King of Asgard since his return, and Odin made no attempt to visit him. He was mostly relieved that the Allfather hadn't come, but a small part of him worried endlessly over the reason why. Perhaps, Odin, unlike Thor and Frigga, hadn't wanted him to return. Perhaps his prescence at the Royal dining table would be more unwanted than he imagined. He was temped to forgo his foolish endeavor and keep to the solitude in his room, but he had made it this far already, and his basic need for sustenance was starting to outweigh his pride.

Loki took a few, silent steps toward the door, hesitating as he reached to press his fingers against the cool metal of the handle. He closed his eyes, willing his racing pulse into a relative calm before opening the door. The two guards stationed by his door reacted to his exit, taking a few, distrustful steps away from him. Loki kept a straight face as he observed them. Their fear of him was nearly transparent.

"Worry not, my friends," he said in a calm voice. There was a touch of coldness to his tone that he couldn't quite hide, a hint of his anger toward their reactions that he wanted them to be aware of. "I merely require sustenance. Follow me if you must, but I swear to you that I only intend to go to the dining hall."

He waited a beat for their responses. Both men narrowed their eyes suspiciously, but said nothing. Uncaring if they had anything else to say, he turned away, heading down the magnificent hallway.

Loki kept to the shadows, avoiding the gaze of those he passed. He kept his fingers clenched within the confines of his palm, hoping that the pressure would keep them from shaking. The closer he came, the more nervous his heart fluttered in his chest. He stopped before the entrance, straining to hear the distant voices of his once-family. He heard the low thrum of Thor's voice, followed closely by an older, more stern voice. Loki took three deep breaths, then stepped forward.

Frigga was the first to see him, only because she was facing his way. She stood from her chair swiftly, breathing out his name. Loki froze in his spot by the entrance, suddenly unable to move as Thor and Odin turned to look as well.

"Brot- Loki," Thor exclaimed. "You came."

"Not for the company, I assure you," he responded. He nearly regret saying such a phrase as Odin's one good eye made contact with his own. There was a wary sadness to his gaze that struck Loki straight through. He swallowed thickly, quickly avoiding Odin's look. Frigga quickly stepped away from the table, encouraging her youngest son to come over.

"Regardless of your reason, we are glad to have you, Loki," she said, placing a delicate hand upon his arm. He allowed his expression to soften a bit at her touch, and didn't fight as she led him over to the table. He took up a silent seat beside Frigga, ignoring Thor's semi-hurt look that he didn't take up his usual seat beside him. His once-mother filled his plate for him, an act that he could easily do himself, but he didn't want to deny her the chance to dote upon him if she wished.

He took a delicate bite of his meal, ignoring the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air. Thor made a low sound, his chair scraping loudly in the quiet as he returned to his seat. He took a few, noisy bites of his own dinner. Frigga frowned at the tension, placing her fork down beside her plate.

"I hope your room is how you like it," she said softly, trying to instigate conversation. Loki cast a glance at her, nodding shortly. Odin and Thor remained silent as well. Frigga sighed softly. "Your horse has been well-fed and groomed in your absence." Silence. "I made sure to that. I know you always loved riding him. Why don't you take him out for a ride later? It could help."

Loki nodded mutely at her idea. Riding sounded wonderful to him, but it was the last thing on his mind. Even without looking, he could see the tenseness in the way Odin sat at the head of the table, the way he merely picked at his food. Thor kept shooting him worried glances between bites of his meat. He was unusually polite in the undertaking of his meal, avoiding unnecessary stress. Not that Frigga would have spared the moment to chastise her eldest son's horrid table manners. She was too busy trying to make Loki comfortable. He was grateful for her attempts, but it was shining more attention on him than he wanted.

"Since you haven't left your room much, I suppose you wouldn't know that we've started rebuilding the Bifrost," Frigga continued. "The tesseract has been much help-"

"Frigga," Odin said sharply, interrupting her. The sound of the Allfather's voice sent a spark straight through Loki's chest. He attempted swallow his food calmly through his tight throat. Frigga sent her husband a withering glare.

"Oh stop this nonsense," she scolded. "You should be ashamed of yourself. He is your son! I am merely trying to make him comfortable. Neither one of you are helping the situation."

Thor protested, saying that he was trying, but Odin remained silent. Loki stared down at his plate, fork frozen within in hand. He didn't want to hear this. He fought the temptation to just excuse himself and return to his rooms before things got more out of hand, yet he remained where he was, waiting anxiously for the Allfather's response.

The King shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I do not wish to speak of such things right now-"

"Odin," Frigga stressed, disappointment souring her tone.

"In good time, we shall! But I do not believe that now is an appropriate time for such conversations," the Allfather continued. Frigga protested, and Thor inserted a few words here and there, but Loki remained frozen in his seat. With only a few words, he was feeling very, very cold, the shaking in his hands making a comeback. Frigga and Odin were continuing their argument when he stood fluently from his seat.

"Excuse me," he said hollowly, refusing to look at any of them as he left the dining hall. Frigga called after him, but did not follow, choosing instead to scold Odin a time longer. Loki slipped out of the room, ignoring the bubbling emotion within him as he made a straight path back towards his room. He didn't slow his pace when he heard Thor calling after him.

"Loki, please," Thor pleaded, catching his brother's shoulder. Loki shook off the bigger man's hand.

"Spare me the sentimental words, Thor," he hissed, leveling a icy glare his way. "I wish to be alone."

"He does not mean what he said," Thor attempted. "You know that Father is bad with expressing how he feels."

"Something tells me he was not hard pressed to hide his true feelings," Loki sneered.

"You know that is not true," Thor protested. "I saw him grieve for your loss. He missed you just as much as any of us- if not more so."

"Forgive me for finding that incredibly hard to believe."

"What I say is true, you must give him a chance!"

"And what if I choose not to?" Loki snapped back. Silence hung in the air between them. "You speak of "family" and "brotherhood" as if they are tangible things within my reach. I have done unspeakable things, and yet you willingly take me back with open arms and taunt me with hollow promises to restore our lives to which they were before. You think that I am foolish enough to believe that any of it could be true?" His voice hitched a tone higher against his will, hot water burning at the edge of his eyes. "End this foolish game, Thor, lest you torture me longer."

He stared his once-brother down for a beat longer before turning away, escaping the moment before his emotions betrayed him. He did not need a family, and he most certainly did not need a brother. Yet the idea that he may not be worthy enough to claim such things for himself burned an angry hole in the pit of his stomach. He may not need such a sentimental attachment, but something was starting to tell him that he might want one.