Brothers
A/N: Once again, I am floored by the wonderful response to this story! Over 100 alerts! Thank you all so much for your support!
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Dirt and hay crunched under his boots as he walked toward the stables. It wasn't originally his plan to go riding so soon, but something pulled deep within his chest at every thought he had of the action. Frigga was right; he loved riding, especially in his younger years. His love for the activity only grew with his age, but in recent times, he had nearly forgotten the relaxing, unwinding feeling riding his horse gave him. Other, darker, things stole the forefront of his mind, pushing away his love for the simpler things in life. He frowned at the thought.
As much as he hated it, he couldn't avoid people entirely along his walk. He made no deviations in his path, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, but he still passed seven people. Three grounds workers, two guards and a pair of gossiping maidens who fell silent as he passed by. He grit his teeth and continued on in silence as he heard their nervous whispers start up behind him, no doubt talking about his… questionable heritage.
He slipped into the stables as quietly as possible, only allowing the stablehand of his steed see him. The younger boy jumped when he saw the dark prince, dropping the horse brush he held in his hand. He stuttered a quick apology, bending down to pick up his fallen equipment. Loki ignored him for the most part, approaching his horse instead.
The steed let out a huff of recognition, stomping its hooves in excitement. He was a beautiful stallion with an unusually dark coat, a gift from his mother from when he finally reached adulthood. The horse was a wild one, and gave the stable hands a difficult time for nearly everything. Loki felt a bit of fear of the horse at first, but saw a bit of himself within the stallion. He affectionally named him Nótt Stikla, Night Runner, and spent long days teaching his horse commands and breaking him of his wild nature. Nótt Stikla was unpredictable and stubborn, but found kinship in Loki, and the two of them became nearly unseparable.
Seeing the excitement in his horse's eyes, Loki felt a twinge of guilt within his chest from neglecting him for so long. The dark prince lifted his hands, gently stoking the horse's jaw. The stallion bumped his nose against Loki's chest, nibbling slightly at the Asgardian's long hair. Loki forced down a smile at the horse's antics, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest.
"It has been too long, my friend," he said quietly. The horse huffed in agreement, and Loki couldn't stop the lift of his lips. Glancing at the slack-jawed stable hand beside him, the God of mischief straightened his shoulders a bit.
"Fetch a saddle and reigns," he told the boy. The stable hand jumped a bit at being recognized. Loki looked over at him when he didn't move. "If you would."
"R-right away," the boy squeaked, running off to fetch his saddle. Loki stood off to the side while the boy swiftly hooked the saddle into place. Usually, Nótt Stikla would give his handler trouble, but the horse had an eye for Loki that day, and behaved himself, if only because he knew that they were going out for a ride. Loki could almost feel the horse's longing for a nice long run; he felt it itching in his bones as well. As soon as the boy was finished with the saddle, Loki thanked him briefly and took Nótt Stikla by the reigns. He was only three steps outside the stables before he was mounted, spurring the horse into a run.
He felt the stallion's powerful muscles moving beneath him, the deep breaths that the horse would take with every lope. They ran away from the spiraling spires of the castle, and out towards the endless green pastures, out of the direct sight of people. Loki closed his eyes, feeling the wind against his face. It was all so calming. He didn't realize how much he missed the exhilaration of riding. It was always a stress release for him, and he didn't realize how much he really needed one.
They ran for most of the afternoon, hardly stopping for a breath. Loki was always impressed by the stamina of Asgardian horses; there were no others like them in any of the nine realms. He had tested Nótt Stikla's true endurance once many years before, out of desperation rather than curiosity. The stallion could run for days on end before exhaustion slowed his hooves. Slowing the horse to a trot, Loki pulled up beside the ocean, waves licking the horse's hooves as it trotted along. The God of mischief dropped his hands against the saddle, letting the reigns loosen enough for Nótt Stikla to take the lead.
Loki let his mind wander a bit as he stared out across the ocean. The stars and galaxies dotting the edge of the realm reflected upon its surface, entrancing him with their distant beauty. How many days had he spent among those stars, searching, stewing, bubbling with anger. He was always too angry, or too distracted, to appreciate their beauty. Every one held a story of its own, a place in the wide universe that that particular star could call home.
A part of him wondered if he should even be allowed to call Asgard home, after everything he did. He allowed murderous creatures within the safe confines of Asgard. And for what? Power? Recognition? Acceptance? He childishly hung onto the idea that it all started out as a simple, harmless prank. One last trick against his brother before the relationship between them changed forever. A simple prank that spiraled dangerously out of control, ripping a rift between them as wide as the farthest branches of Yggdrasil. Even as he stood on the beaches of Asgard, once again accepted into his childhood home, he couldn't completely wrap his mind around it. He wasn't convinced that this was where he truly belonged, no matter how much his heart yearned for it to be.
He turned his eyes away from the distant sky as the sound of hooves hitting sand caught his ear. Nótt Stikla lifted his head, ears perked as the new visitor trotted closer. Loki sighed internally and squashed the desire to run from his now arriving once-brother. Thor was perched atop his own horse, a much sturdier, thickly built tan horse that matched his personality to a tee. The tan horse tossed his head a few times as Thor pulled up beside his brother.
"Brot- Loki," Thor called. "I did not know you were on a ride as well!"
Loki felt a twitch of discomfort at Thor's amendment. He realized that Thor was making an effort to call him by his name only due to how he had reacted to Thor calling him "brother" only a few weeks before. It was a conscious effort on Thor's part to keep things light between them. While he appreciated the effort, Loki wasn't sure he truly liked the amendment. It sounded… forced.
"How is it that you always find me when I least want you to?" Loki asked, filing away his thoughts for the time being.
Thor cracked a grin. "It does seem as though I always do."
"It was the same, even when we were children," Loki commented.
Thor chuckled. "I recall a time when you tried to enchant the wings on my helmet so that it would fly me away every time I came near you."
Loki couldn't resist a low chuckle of his own at the memory. His enchantment had gone wrong. Thor's helmet flew, but never took the blonde God with it. He was so mad that things hadn't gone his way that he spent nights attempting to fix the problem, only to realize that no enchantment would be able to keep his persistent brother away from him. It was a humbling moment. Both Gods chuckled at the memory for a long moment, falling away into silence. Thor's voice was distant when he spoke again.
"We had such great times together," he said. "Every time we played, or fought together. Every triumph and victory we brought home to Asgard." Loki let the small smile on his face fall away at the memories. Every happy moment that he and Thor spent playing in the fields of Asgard, every heart-wrenching moment that Loki drug a wounded Thor from the battlefield of their enemies, hoping and praying that he hadn't lost his one and only brother. Loki averted his gaze.
"Why did that have to change?" Thor asked softly, desperately. Loki stared out at the gently moving ocean, pondering Thor's question.
"Things were already in motion to change, Thor," he said quietly after a while. "Even without the circumstances that led us here."
"What do you mean?" Thor asked. Loki risked at glance his way, trying to convey the emotions churning in his soul.
"We were drifting apart," he said slowly. "You were rising to kingship, and I was to be nothing more than a councilman to aide you in your rule. For all my life, I wanted nothing more than to be your equal. It was hard to accept that I never truly would be." He dropped his gaze. "I never realized just how hard that dream would be to achieve."
"But… Why the Frost Giants? Why attack Asgard?" Thor was struggling to understand.
"Pranks. Tricks that grew out of my hands and fed my foolish quest for equality," Loki said offhandedly. "I did not believe you ready to take the throne, and a foolish part of me thought that by allowing Frost Giants into the weapons vault, I could show Fath-" He choked slightly on his slip, taking a short breath to readjust. "Show the Allfather that you were not ready yet."
"But why? Why didn't you just say something?" Thor demanded.
"Would you have listened?" Loki shot back. "For as long as I have known you, reason has not been the key for your understanding. Only action. I couldn't have known that the Allfather would cast you out for your foolhardy decision. That was never what I wanted."
"Then what did you want?" Thor asked.
Loki's voice was helplessly small when he responded, a note of desperation coloring the tone. "To help you."
Another silence pulled between them. The horses shifted uncomfortably beneath them.
"You did help me, Loki," Thor said softly. "After my time on Midgard, I have come to see that my impatience and arrogance have gotten me nowhere."
"But that is not what I intended," Loki protested. "I never wanted a group of nameless Midgardians to help teach you the lessons you needed to learn. I wanted to do that for you. I wanted to be the one to help mold you into the perfect king for Asgard." He turned his face away, pushing away the wave of emotion that threatened to overcome him. "But what use are words now," he added sarcastically.
"Words are all we have left," Thor said, reaching out to place a comforting hand upon Loki's shoulder. The darker God did not attempt to remove him. "Not once did I believe you to be as evil as you attempted to make me believe. Your good intentions always shine through your actions, regardless of how hard to try to hide them." Thor squeezed Loki's shoulder, enticing the thinner man to turn tired, wary eyes his way. "Thank you, brother. For everything you have sacrificed for me."
Loki closed his eyes, struggling against the overwhelming desire to just breakdown before his once-brother. He squeezed his hands on the reigns clasped within them, taking slow breaths to calm himself. His voice still shook when he spoke, betraying how he truly felt inside.
"How can you accept me for who I am? For what I've done?"
Thor let his lips form a small, genuine smile. "You're the only brother I ever had. I will always love you, even when you are being a psychopath bent on taking over a world full of tiny, pathetic humans."
Loki let out a watery laugh. "Not so pathetic, if I recall correctly."
Thor's smile turned into a grin. "No, I suppose not."
Loki laughed a bit longer, taking a few deep breaths to be sure that his overwhelming emotions had passed.
"Thank you, Thor." he said softly, meeting the blue eyes of his once-brother. No. His brother. "For everything."
Thor squeezed his brother's shoulder once more before allowing his hand to drop away. "Anytime. Now please, if you are finished debating about your place in this world, Mother is beside herself waiting to see you at dinner again. I beg you on hands and knees to attend, lest she bother me about my manners yet again."
Loki cracked a smile despite the twinge of nervousness formed in his chest. "I shall consider it."
"Consider faster! I wish to dine in peace!" Thor bellowed in good spirits.
Loki chuckled lightly alongside him, but was unable to put away the dread he felt within his breast. His mother and Thor were easy to speak to compared to the Allfather, and he still had a lingering feeling that things were not as simple as Thor made it seem. But for now, he was easily on high spirits and could place aside such a nerve-wracking confrontation for another day. He had his brother back, and nothing could pull him away from how high on happiness that thought made him.