Don't Leave Me the Way I Am

Chapter Four

"Enter!"

The heavy intricately carved doors are silent on their hinges as they swing inwards.

Thor keeps his chin up as he strides past them, walking along the streams of sunlight that slip across the floor. He finds the royal chamber empty save for the King himself. The day is young but Odin has been at work for long hours yet, quiet and alone with his thoughts as though he is ensconced within a temple.

Thor is curious why his presence has been requested. They've not been a tight-knit family for years and years. And though these are short skips of time for Aesir, Thor knows the weight of them all the same. He wonders hopefully if perhaps Odin has a quest for him to fulfill, an adventure would be a good distraction. Thor has long since conquered many of the perils Asgard has to offer.

He swallows and bows his head as he kneels into the slight grooves on the stone floor, where too many have knelt before.

"Thor," Odin greets and does not look up from his reading. He sits upon a large raised chair with a comfortable posture, swathes of scrolls that spill from his golden desk curl over his knees.

It is seeing his father like this that puts that edge back into Thor's gut.

Because Thor can't imagine himself sitting there, on this simple private throne, reading for long stretches of time and suffering the hardship of boredom that comes with responsibility. He feels impossibly young, thinking of it. It makes him question if he'll ever be ready, if he even deserves to be King. But he can't think of what else he could try to be.

"Father," Thor replies. Only then does Odin look up.

Thor feels the even stare of his father's eye casting over him as though Odin can hear his every thought and stiffens, his heart beating so very fast.

"Do not look so sick, boy," Odin suggests. "I did not summon you for a fight."

Thor frowns at this, chagrined. He straightens somewhat and then stands when Odin beckons with a hook of the finger to come and stand closer.

"I am not troubled," Thor mutters, gaze sliding away to the side, upset that he is so easily seen through.

"Oh?" Odin replies, and Thor can hear him smirking behind his thick beard, "No need to lie."

There is a tense moment that itches in Thor's ears with every scratch of coarse paper as Odin's fingers deftly roll up the sprawling parchments.

"Your mother remains a catalyst for unnecessary meetings," Odin continues, the scrolls scritch-scratching in his grasp. "And yet she is elsewhere now, tending to her business."

"I know not of her work," Thor grinds out. He's painfully aware that he has not paid attention to anything, anyone, that hasn't revolved around himself for an embarrassedly long stretch of time.

"She worries," Odin replies, "As do I. Except where I plan for future coronations, she longs to plan for weddings."

Oh.

Thor's fingers curl against themselves tight, so tight, to stop himself from fidgeting even as he says, "Such things seem impossibly far away, to plan for."

"Or perhaps you mean for such things to only be impossible," Odin returns.

Thor tries so hard to swallow against the lump in his throat, but can't. He's stuck.

Odin finishes with his papers and stows them safely on the ornate shelving that frames his desk."Your brother gallivants in the city, I hear. Wooing women with his silver tongue."

Thor braces against this comparison with a fierce scowl, the feeling of inadequacy rearing its ugly head, teeth snarling as it tears into him. He's angry at himself. He should not still be so jealous, feeling it as though it is still a hot knife piercing deep. He'd thought separating from Loki would dull the pain, but instead everything bleeds together. He's loathed to admit that he was wrong to ignore his brother to begin with, but doesn't know how to fix it.

Odin snorts. "Make not that face, Thor. Loki's tongue is loose as a maiden's and that is what they favour in him. Gossip."

He leans forward across the expansive desk and gestures roughly so that Thor comes closer still, to stand by his chair. Odin looks at him for one airless moment but Thor refuses to break the stare. Finally Odin stands, and lays a hand upon Thor's shoulder, pulling him down to an even height.

"This was much easier when you were smaller." Odin mutters gruffly, and puts his hand atop Thor's head, his old gnarled fingers twisting in the golden hair. Thor bites his lip and there's a tiny explosion of fear and disbelief in his chest when Odin places a kiss on his temple.

"I would tell you this once."

Thor blinks rapidly at the sudden tears that stand in his eyes, "Father?"

"A King who can soar far above his subjects never has to worry that his every move will be seen."

The Allfather never whispers, his voice is meant to command even the smallest of ears in the farthest of townships in all of Asgard. But he very nearly whispers this now, the words soft as they can be, coming from Odin. Perhaps it's not something he ever meant for Thor to hear but he says it anyway. Odin pats him heavily on the head once more, touching Thor's cheek with the hard palm of his hand. There are raised scars there too, like the ones Thor and Loki sport. He vaguely wonders how many of those promises his father has kept.

"You have done well so far. I think you'll find that Mjölnir can take you a bit higher."

Thor nods dumbly, mouth slack with shock. It is when he is almost out the doors of his father's private chambers, when Odin calls after him.

"And apologize to your brother, Thor! I'd swear you two were still children with the way you fight."

Thor can't help it, lets out a laugh as he grins over his shoulder. "Then we'll never grow up."

"As I said," Odin waves a dismissive hand. "Impossible."

Turns out that learning to fly is easier said than done.

Thor's friends just assumed the moment he'd lifted Mjölnir the hammer's mighty power had been transferred to him. But that was not the case. In fact, Thor didn't know how to use the weapon as more than what it was and spent most of his time throwing it at trees or marvelling at how he could pin animals down without the hint of dislodging. He stopped this when a poor flightless bird, too frightened by the oversized hammer resting upon its tail, managed to pluck itself.

Thor grunts as he throws the hammer across the long sloping grain fields. The gentle waving of the golden blades tickles his knees as he trudges after it. He's determined to master this weapon, if it's the last thing he'll do. The quiet words of the Allfather resonate deep inside, echoing in a pleasant manner, almost terrifying in the uplifting sensation they cause. The weight of Mjölnir in his palm weighs him back down.

If he gets good at this, pushes himself up enough, then he doesn't have to worry.

Thor wipes his nose with the back of his arm and pulls the stem of Mjölnir like a deep-rooted spud from the ground only to heft and fling it at an invisible target once more.

"Cumbersome thing, isn't it?"

Thor stiffens.

The tall grasses part way as Loki swishes through them, arms swinging and head cocked. His voice is smooth, one that you could expect to forget, because of its fluid nature. The way it flows in one ear and out the other. But Thor has been longing to hear it and drinks up every drop.

"Loki," Thor replies before presses his lips together, stooping down to twirl Mjölnir amongst the grass, whirling out a little circle patch. He wipes at his nose again, hair curtaining the side of his face. "What brings you to the fields?"

"Don't be stupid," Loki sounds surly. "Father told me to apologize too."

Thor fights a spark of righteousness at that by frowning deeply, picks up the hammer again before meeting his brother's eyes, "And here I thought you did what you want."

"Oh, Thor," Loki rolls his eyes. "And Father thinks I'm the one who refrains from making amends."

"Hmph," Thor grunts and tosses Mjölnir again. Loki merely raises an eyebrow as it goes whizzing by scant measurements from his head.

He smirks. "You missed."

"No, I didn't," Thor grumbles, feet kicking at the tall grass to trudge a path out towards the hammer yet again.

"Aren't you supposed to be able to fly now?"

"Yes," Thor answers with surliness just the same as his brother, "But I haven't tried yet."

"Why not? Scared?"

Thor whips around at that. "No!"

"Hmph." Loki shrugs and stubbornly follows Thor down the path towards the weapon lodged deeply in the side of an anthill the size of a drum. Before Thor can kick it free, Loki has set the insect home ablaze with a simple twitch of his fingers, burning away the offensive trails of ants trickling out in long thin red lines.

"Your help is not necessary, Brother." Thor sniffs, rubbing his nose again and tapping the ash on Mjölnir off.

"I'm merely curious, you see. Just expediting the process."

"Well, why don't you just... expedite somewhere else," Thor's mouth twists for a second, hoping he's used the word right, and it's as if Loki knows because he grins, completely unabashed.

And Thor can't help the answering grin that forms, "Shut up."

"I won't say a word." Loki sticks out the tip of his tongue, "Promise. No words that I know you to be unsure of."

"Stop," Thor laughs and reaches out to shove at his brother's shoulder. Loki seems pleased though, at the sudden contact, and moves closer after Thor's arm falls back to his side.

Loki snickers, bumping shoulders with Thor, his pointy features holding that sweet smile which has always softened his face. That familiar tilt of his head, like Loki had used to give Thor back before their mother told them to start looking at strange women on the dance floor. Thor sniffs again and jumps when Loki's thumb presses against the side of his nose, then scrapes at the side of his stubble.

"You've dirt all over your face." Loki idly inspects his thumbnail, digging it clean. "Well, come on then, let's see it."

Thor scrunches his nose against the odd fluttering feeling that prickles across his skin in a freckled design. "What, fly?"

"Of course not. I actually listen, you know? Your next best trick."

"Ha Ha," Thor stalks away, twirling the hammer in his grip listlessly.

Loki follows him all the way down the fields, the swish swaying of the grass the whispers of an unknown song. The breeze that comes in from the East is sweet with the scents of supper all over the city. Almost a whole day at it and no progress. Thor sighs and tosses Mjölnir at the foot of a tree which stands at the edge of the field. The lone tree in all the hilly plains, Thor slumps down beside it, tired.

The tips of Loki's boots enter his sight.

"Why are you following me?" Thor rolls his eyes and leans back against the rough tree trunk, staring up at his brother.

"Isn't that what I always do?" Loki returns, dropping down to sit cross-legged atop an oversized exposed root.

"Loki, you don't have to apologize, it's my fault." Thor quickly looks away, taking a deep breath and twisting long grass around his fingers. "I was ignoring you. Don't ask me why."

"I won't," Comes his brother's amused voice. "I knew I was making you jealous."

Thor's mouth falls open and the grass in his hand rips. "What?"

Loki leans closer, smirking. "I had my pick of the lot, while you," He puts a fingertip under Thor's chin to snap his jaw back into place, "Were stuck with Sif."

"I..." Thor swallows, his brows crashing together in denial. "I was not."

Loki grins and Thor feels chagrined. It was the truth, in a way. Utter shame floods into the pit of his stomach. It fills him so quickly it's like he's being pushed out from the inside, stretched thin and taunt overtop a monster he can't see. Guilt, that he had not thought of his jealousy in that way. For Thor knows how jealous he really was, still is, but it had nothing to do with Sif.

The guilt intensifies, roils inside him, a sudden clench around his heart. Squeezing. The sudden sensation stings worse than any blade, chokes him stronger than hate. And he hates himself for this overpowering feeling, something that no matter how large he grows he can't stamp down.

"Then why did you do it?" Thor roars, can't stop himself from jumping to his feet, but Loki mirrors the action."To laugh at my expense?"

Loki just looks at him, as if this is all so simple, and Thor can't take it. He spins and punches the tree, so hard that bits of bark go splintering off in all directions and the trunk cracks. An awful fissure goes spidering up the tree like a lightning strike from the ground.

Somewhere deep in the field a flock of birds burst into flight. Large round green leaves begin to rain down.

Loki's eyes are the same green as he stares impassively, "I expect you would hear me laughing, if that was my intention."

Thor can barely hear over his harsh pants, the blood rushing in his ears. He's mad. So furious, but Loki just stands there blankly, ankle-deep in the spilled leaves until the utter silence that falls upon them squeezes out Thor's response.

"Fight me."

And Mjölnir comes flying.

Thor barely has enough time to catch the hammer by the hilt before he's being lifted off his feet. The force of Mjölnir's power is immense, an almost uncontainable momentum. Fear and shock are the fastest acting forces which make Thor's fingers clamp down hard enough to hold on. The tear of air rushing past him is disorienting, but there's a pinch in his leg and he vaguely realizes Loki's got a tight hold of his ankle.

"THORRR," Loki screams, punching at his knee.

Thor growls and kicks at his brother, trying to shake him off.

They're simultaneously grappling with each other while trying to hang on as they both go zooming away on Mjölnir's trajectory, flown far across the landscapes, future Kings shot high into the sky.

Until they crash land into the side of the Northern mountain range.

"Ugghhh..."

Thor spits out a fountain of rock, groaning as he pulls himself out of the rubble. The white dust of pulverized rock pours from him in clouds as he crawls from the crater. He just lays there at the edge of a flat protrusion, panting hard against the muck he's inhaled. There's grit in his eyes and Thor coughs, rubbing at them vigorously until he can blearily make out the city, a far away golden speck amongst the forests and plains and all the roads that lead in.

Mjölnir rests comfortably upon a slab of rock, in the middle of the impact sight. Thor groans again, rolling onto his back to gather his wits before he pushes himself to his feet and slumps towards it, realizing his knees and elbows are bloody and bruised. He grabs at jutting rocks to steady himself, fingers twining around the odd root, until his hand lands upon a black booted foot sticking out from a huge crevice.

Thor grunts and grabs Loki by the leg, dragging him out of the crater only to throw him down on his back.

"Hmhphfcckkk..." Loki's pointy face is scrunched in pain.

"Get up, Brother." Thor toes him in the ribs, and Loki grimaces, spitting out his fair share of pebbles and dust. His gums are bright red and there's a bump on his head the size of an apple. If Thor thought his dust-coated lungs could handle it, he would have chuckled.

Loki still manages a laugh.

"Wow," He's breathless, lying on his back with his head half atop a small shrub. Thor rolls his eyes and retrieves his disobedient weapon while Loki sits up and shakes the gray from his hair until its black again.

"Think you can fly us back?"

"I'm not sure what I did," Thor inspects the hammer as if willing an answer to appear on its smooth surface.

"Great," Loki gets up, coughing and dusting himself off. "So then we're stuck on the top of a mountain until you can figure it out. We'll be here forever. Suppose I should make house."

"Would you be quiet!" Thor shouts back, scowling and dropping the hammer to his side. It's so like Loki, to make fun of everything, to make it all a joke. "If you didn't provoke me this wouldn't—"

"Me!" Loki bares his teeth and stalks forward until they are nose to nose. "You're the one who—"

"No, you are! You of all people should know I—"

"Yes, of all people, me!" Loki yells back at him, voice wavering. He's got a distant kind of expression, as if when he looks upon Thor he sees something else, something much farther away from this moment.

"Me. That's why, Thor."

Thor doesn't even know what they're arguing about anymore. He snorts and snags Loki by the scruff of his collar, dragging him towards the crumbling rim of the plateau. The hammer is held tight in his hand, so tight it hurts. His heart is beating so fast it's almost like it's not there.

"No, no, no," Loki thumps him on the back with balled up fists as Thor bands a large arm around his middle, pressing them both close. "Stop this, Thor. Thor! THOR. What are you doing!"

Thor thrusts them over the edge.

You reckless bastarRRAAHHHHH!"

A fish flops angrily atop Loki's head then spills back into the lake.

"You're—You—That was mindless!" Loki sputters, wiping thick black bangs from his face to be slicked back with filthy water. Bits of grass and mud and sticks cling to his studded leather tunic, completely ruined. Drowned in drenched clothing, Loki looks younger than his years, blinking owlishly.

Thor sneezes and flips his own hair to hang on one side, using one hand to wring it into a fat gold lock. Blue gray water streams out and down his arm, dripping off his bare elbow.

"Don't complain. It worked!"

"Yes, of course it did. After the first thousand lengths of freefall!" Loki gasps for air, shaking his head in disbelief as he pushes himself up to stand in the shallows.

The flight had been all a blur of sound and sight, the only anchor to reality was his arm around Loki, holding tight. But now they're knee-deep in the mud and water of the lake which rests west of the palace grounds. Not too bad for a first landing.

There's a muscle in Loki's cheek that keeps jumping and Thor knows it's the insistent tug of a smile.

"Admit that it was brilliant." Thor suggests and Loki slaps water at him.

"Only if you admit that you were jealous."

They wade through the sticky mud that coats the lakebed. It gets like this, in the summer months. The water running low and growing murky with booms of aquatic life. They kick their way through a school of bright silver fish that swarm their legs. Probably excited by the puffs of red that blossom from Thor's knees whenever they bend.

Thor is still uneasy of what Loki knows. He couldn't bear it if Loki became awkward with him because of this. He's the only one who's never been. And how would he even react to the fact that Thor was more jealous of those women? He'd think Thor weak, an aberration, a shameful man, unworthy of the name Odinson.

Thor scowls and looks away, knowing his cheeks are flushed embarrassedly.

"If I say yes, will that make you forget about it?"

"Never," Loki replies with this odd little smirk upon his face, as if he's not really aware of it. Thor only knows this because Loki is always aware of how he smiles. This is not one of those.

"It's because you love me best, right?" He doesn't wait for Thor's answer. "I'd be jealous too then, I expect."

"But you weren't," Thor adds, feeling oddly hollow and even more acutely, alone. He is alone, he realizes with a dull sort of hurt, like being hit with something too large to actually pierce. It's only he who feels this way.

Loki slyly bats his eyelashes, "Only because you don't look half as good as I do..."

Thor slaps water at him when Loki laughs.

It goes quiet between them as they move sluggishly through the water, drained from the rush of excitement. Frogs chirping fills in the gaps along with the plip plops of plants flicking against the water. It starts to rain, sparse droplets landing this way and that. A light shower to wash away the grime. Loki edges nearer, and Thor automatically puts an arm around his shoulder. All is forgiven.

"I wasn't jealous," Loki mutters huddling close and wiping at his slick face again. "But I know envy well. How lucky you are, Thor, to receive Mjölnir as a gift."

Loki's mouth purses at the last word and Thor realizes this as true. That their father has given Thor so much with this treasured weapon. It's going to make him so much better. It's going to make everything right. He wishes he could voice this to Loki, explain to his brother that he's never been lacking, like Thor. That Loki doesn't need greatness to hold onto in order to lift him up. He is there already, so high that no one can see his every move. It's in this where Thor tries valiantly to follow.

"If I could, I would give you a gift even greater," Thor says around the lump in his throat.

Loki cocks his head. "You can do me a favour instead. I'll even do you one, in return."

"What is it?"

"Don't take any others flying." Loki trails a fingertip down the side of Mjölnir's slippery face, where it hangs from Thor's belt. "You'll kill them with fright, I swear."

Thor snorts and picks a leaf from his brother's lapel before tightening his hold into something almost like a headlock. "You just don't believe anyone else worthy."

"Well," Loki scrabbles at Thor's heavy arm with a little grin that turns devilish. "There's no one else like us. So what do you want?"

"What I want..." Thor repeats. There's a weird feeling that echoes around in his chest, suddenly very full of anticipation. Thor bites his lip.

"Yes." Loki encourages, managing to squeeze his head out from Thor's grasp. His hair sticking up in all directions until the rain smoothes it back down. Thor's heart races and he cannot keep up. He can't lie. Not to Loki, not about this. He cannot undo an apology by next lying about the reason.

"You know me better than anyone." Thor chooses carefully, blowing the excess water from his nose into his fingers and letting the lake wash it away.

His feet are too heavy, coated in the sopping mud of the lakebed, sucking him into place. For some reason, Thor remembers the way Loki looked at that girl, his dance partner. And how he kissed her softly on the lips.

Thor covers his mouth with his hand. Sniffs, and wipes more water away.

"Hmm," Loki hums, surveying him with a very critical eye. "Shall I guess?"

"No!" Thor protests before he even knows what Loki means to say. At his brother's raised eyebrow he feels stupid and embarrassed. Guilty to the core. He hates as much as he loves how Loki understands him at once.

"No," He says again and turns to plough forwards, arms sending large waves of water careening away from him as he treads through the lake. The rain comes faster, pouring down in visible sheets that waft like translucent capes in the wind.

"Sure?" Loki calls after him, diligently following.

"I don't need anything!"

A hand lands on his arm, spinning Thor around. "And I think you do! So just accept it and let me do you this favour!"

"What would you have me accept?"

Thor rips his arm away as the words rip from his throat. He cannot bear his brother's touch now. The touch upon something he dares not speak of, especially when Odin has given him a way out, a way up. He can't fall back down into this, can't allow himself to give it a name. Otherwise he'll call to it, he'll think of it, and perhaps even grow to hate or love it, instead of pretend it doesn't exist.

"Yourself!" A bolt of lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating Loki's concerned face. "Accept yourself Thor, because I know—"

"Watch your words!" Thor yells and shoves Loki away from him. "Do not speak lest you anger me, Brother."

"Well you are quick to anger," Loki cracks back like a whip, as he pushes hair out of his eyes once more.

They tread towards the edge of the lake in faster rough strokes as the storm clouds pile in, lightning snapping against unseen points in the sky. The water is turbulent, gray as the sky and turning blacker as the storm clouds roll and thicken. It's unnatural, almost, the sudden violence of the storm. A tempest king with an army of raindrops, thunder as its war drums, lightning its fire.

"Is all this you?" Loki shouts over the noise and when Thor looks over his brother is following with a large grin, wide ribbons of rain sluicing down his face and tunic to join with the water at his waist. "All this?"

There's a clap of thunder so loud it shakes Thor's bones. Mjölnir resonates in his palm.

"Yes, it's me," Thor shouts back. Loki takes giant running steps to meet him, until they are standing nose to nose, toe to toe in the mud. They're always stuck in the middle of a storm.

"Everyone thinks you're so bright, Thor, but you're not." And it's this little quip that has Loki smirking, a bright flash against the shadows, like a streak of lightning across the night. He cups the air, catching handfuls of thick droplets in the palms of his hands. He shows the never-ending pools of water to Thor, as though he's holding so many secrets they're impossible to keep from spilling forth.

"This is the real you." Loki holds his face and the water tumbles down Thor's cheeks as he thumbs at the corners of Thor's mouth, forcing a half smile upon Thor's face. Thor can feel the raised scar on the palm of Loki's hand.

"This is you."

Thor stares at him, trying to make sense of it. Loki leans forward and Thor brings a hand up to stop him but isn't fast enough. Doesn't have time before Loki gently tilts his chin down and places a soft kiss against his lips.

His hand hovers uselessly until somehow it comes to cradle the back of Loki's head. The press of their lips together becomes overlapped with more pressure and Thor's left gasping, trembling with that unnamed want. Need.

Loki pulls back with a satisfied look and Thor's hand falls away.

"There, good. Was that so bad?"

"You," Thor gulps, swallowing the pouring secrets back down. "You tell me."

Loki laughs and Thor's stomach clenches. He wants to do it again. But it's a lie, really, that Kings can do whatever they want. If Thor ever took what his heart wanted, all his world would fall apart.

"You should see your face." Loki teases and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. He wipes the side of Thor's mouth too, because Thor is too stupid and shocked to even move. But it all gets lost in the rain.

Loki never did tell him. If it was good or bad.