Fucking finally. Jesus, you have no idea how fucking difficult that was to write, I was so fucking annoyed by this "short special" that became a 44-page-drama-trilogy, you wouldn't fucking believe me.
Excuse my language. Steve would be disappointed, but he didn't appear yet, so that's okay.
I'm sorry for making you wait so incredibly long!
Loki did get some sleep that night. The exhaustion made him collapse into his bed early for his standards, only shortly after being proclaimed king by Frigga; however, he was awoken a few hours later by a nightmarish dream of Thor being torn apart by a pack of wolves on Midgard, without his divine powers to defend himself, while Anthony stood at the side of the forest clearing and yelled that of course Thor would rather die than be saved by him, Jotnar were monsters, what did he expect. Odin was leaning against a tree and watched everything with weary disappointment in his eyes while Frigga insisted that there were no secrets in a family.
With a groan, Loki pushed the blankets away and stared outside at one of the two moons as if it held the answers to his questions. Unsurprisingly, it didn't. Since Asgard was still asleep anyway, he decided that it was time to have a bath; he could have sworn he still felt Anthony's blood on his hands and the Jotun's touch on his arm.
Despite the warmth of the water, he couldn't seem to stay still and relax and stay still for even half an hour. In the end, he just scrubbed himself down quickly and changed into half-formal gear. Should the need arise, he could simply pull on the royal armour over it without making it look unnatural.
Then, grateful for the few hours of sleep he had gotten, he teleported into Anthony's and his workshop. If he couldn't sleep, he could as well make himself useful.
As it turned out, Anthony's advice was more vital for the crafting than he had thought, but after a night spent over the materials they needed, Loki knew the metals and their structure more intimately than he would have thought possible. It took him a few tries to find the right amount of material, but since it had only been a month ago, he succeeded in less than fifteen minutes.
Despite their previous argument, he found himself smiling when he sunk down into the armchair with two metal orbs in his hands. Without his little genius, the idea of 'particle acceleration' (what a title) would never have so much as occurred to him, and although it had taken him a bit to grasp the concept completely, he had come to adore Anthony's mind a great deal more when the mortal had explained the concept to him. How old is he in Midgardian years, forty? Closer to thirty, most likely. He's a child. And such a brilliant one.
He pushed all thoughts aside to concentrate on the materials in his palms, let his magic seep into them, into smaller and smaller parts of the metal. Molecules. Atoms. He had known they existed, of course, it was vital to know about them for spells like teleportation and others that interfered with the natural fabric of the realms, but he would never have thought to use it in the way that Anthony had taught him.
Little more than fifteen minutes later, he held another orb of the new, nameless element in his hands and smiled at it silently. He had, however, no idea how to fabricate the casing of the device; there were limits to what he could do, too. Thoughtfully, he stared at the glowing little orb in his hands. He couldn't just set it down somewhere, but neither could he carry it around until he had the chance to give it to Anthony.
He settled for casting a simple spell to let it levitate in the air for now until he could come and get it together with the inventor. For now, he should probably tell Anthony that he could finish crafting his replacement; even with the new Aesir body that the mortal would soon possess, palladium was unlikely to be healthy. Now that he had only just recovered from a month-long poisoning, Loki wasn't going to be responsible for Anthony getting it into his system again. Contently, he rose from his armchair and cast a last glance at the shining orb floating above the table.
Then, his eyes flickered towards one of the large windows. It was dawning outside and he would be expected in the throne room by the time the sun rose... so there was just enough time to pay Anthony another visit, to check up on him, possibly to tell him about the new core for his reactor – whether he wanted to see Loki or not, he would want to know about that, right?
You are pathetic, he thought scornfully as he left the room. You are a pri– you are the king of Asgard and stand here making up excuses to visit a slave? Ridiculous.
But still... he couldn't simply force himself on Anthony when the genius obviously didn't want it. Didn't want him. Well, of course, there was nothing physically stopping him, so to say, but it wasn't what he wanted. Quite the opposite, actually.
Why was he justifying his actions in front of himself now, anyway?
With a determined shake of his head, Loki teleported himself into his rooms and dressed into the ceremonial king's armour as quickly as possible, not willing to allow himself to stall any longer. After a beat of hesitation, he decided to take Gungnir with him. He didn't have much time left until he was supposed to show up in the throne room, so he would probably be grateful for every bit of time he saved now.
Still, he allowed himself the minutes that it took to walk to the medical wing, using the way to collect and calm his racing thoughts.
Despite his usual self-control, he failed miserably. He became the opposite of calm, actually; the more he tried not to think about them, the livelier did Anthony's words return to him. You didn't just make me immortal, like that's your call to make, you can't just decide that sort of thing! His mind kept moving in circles, playing the same sentence over and over again. Would you rather have died than been saved?
Yes!
He was more nervous when he had arrived than he had already been. Maybe he should leave Anthony alone, especially now. A thousand years were a long time to hold a grudge, the inventor would have to forgive him eventually. Loki was sure of it.
Now, he just needed to convince himself of it, too.
The mage opened the door before he could think about it any further. He had no time to waste, after all.
Anthony was asleep. Loki felt a great deal of the tension drain from his body and scolded himself for not thinking of this earlier – of course he would be asleep, the sun had not even risen yet. Why would he be awake at this hour? He enjoyed sleeping in, after all.
He approached the inventor's bed with quiet footsteps. Fandral was nowhere to be seen, apparently he had been seen fit to be released. Just him and a sleeping Anthony, then. There wasn't much that could go wrong here, right?
How often have I thought that in the past few days? Loki smirked humourlessly. Dangle him as a bait to stall Freyja. What could possibly go wrong? Stay with Thor and Odin before looking after Anthony. Where could that backlash? Keep him alive with Idunn's apple. There's no way that could have anything else than benefits, is there? Yes, because all of that went well so far.
Heaving a sigh, he looked down at Anthony. He looked far from peaceful; his jaw was tense and even in his apparently shallow sleep, pain was written clearly in his features. His cheeks were flushed like from a fever and the dark brown bangs hanging in his face were sticky with sweat. Loki curled his free hand into a fist to keep himself from brushing the hair out of Anthony's face; sure, he was asleep, he wouldn't know about it later, but he wouldn't want it either. Loki could take all he wanted, but it was worth nothing if Anthony didn't want it as well.
Suddenly, the inventor groaned and blinked, his eyes glazed over, but almost immediately focussing on Loki.
Now is the moment to tell him. Just get it over with and tell him that the new core is finished and ready for him to use. That's all you have to do, there is nothing to it. Just say it, for Norn's sake.
Loki turned on his heel and left the room with hurried steps without uttering a word. Anthony would write the whole ten seconds that they had stared at each other off as some fever-induced dream and they would never talk about it again. Loki hadn't ever even been there.
He made his way to the throne room like he was being chased, like there was any chance of Anthony getting up in the state he was in and following him, and even if he did, what could he do? Nothing, there was nothing that Anthony could do, nothing that he hadn't already done...
...Like, for example, twisting Loki's insides with the way he looked at him, trusting, sparkling brown eyes, wide with curiosity and enthusiasm when they sat in the library and Loki had gotten one of the old books out, the ones that the usual visitors of these halls didn't usually got their hands on. Like making the prince – king, but did it really matter? – smile more openly than he ever did in front of the court, or Odin, for that matter, just because of a witty, whispered remark about one of the nobles passing them by on their walks through the palace. In the beginning, those had always been followed by Anthony ducking his head and his shoulders tensing, as if he expected to be punished for his sarcastic commentary; the saddest thing about that was that Loki could imagine that it had happened before, more than once for that matter. Like the way he managed to make Loki's heart flutter when he fell asleep in their workshop, his head pillowed on his arms and his hair messy from where he had run his hands through it while deep in thought.
Like the way his eyes had narrowed in anger and, buried much deeper, a deep-rooted kind of fear, as Loki had told him about the apple, and the way that Anthony had managed to deflate him from relief and pride about having saved his life to feeling like he had committed a cruel, a horrid crime without even understanding what it was.
And Norns, he wanted to understand, but he couldn't see where living was a bad thing, he couldn't see what he had done to cause the panic in Anthony's eyes, he couldn't see what he had done to deserve the inventor's words. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to make it right, but he couldn't if he didn't understand what was wrong.
By the time he arrived at the throne room, Loki was about ready to curl up and cry with frustration like he was a hundred years old again.
He didn't, of course; he strode into the throne room with regal steps, his head held high and his posture every inch a king's. It was the first day that he would officially act as Asgard's king and in times like this, first impressions were everything.
With that thought in mind, he fought through the morning with a constant, small smile when it was needed, a firm frown when the situation called for it, and never ending patience. Around midday, he was about ready to commit genocide. Theoretically, he had known about the duties of a king, but he had never imagined all of this to be this horribly boring. Despite his still simmering feelings of anger and betrayal towards Odin, he couldn't help but feel a new sort of respect for the old man; and this had merely been half a day of ruling.
Who knew, maybe three thousand years of this would have made him as tired, stubborn and bitter as Odin.
Loki had just begun to slouch slightly on the throne when the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall again. Heaving a sigh, he sat up straighter just as a familiar voice rang through the room: "All-Father, we must speak with you urgently. It –"
There was a moment of silence when the Warriors Three caught sight of him. Loki kept his expression neutral while taking in the looks of incredulity on the others' faces, noting that Fandral was apparently wholly recovered by now, staring up at him out of wide, blue eyes.
Volstagg was the first one to find his words again as he demanded: "What is this?"
"My friends," Loki drawled, just a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "haven't you heard? I am now ruler of Asgard." The helmet (he was fairly sure that he had heard Anthony calling it Horny Helmet once) weighed heavily on his head and he had absolutely no desire to deal with these four oafs now. Still, there was no way around it, he supposed.
He watched as his four guests reluctantly sunk to their knees, first Fandral and then the others, following their friends example. It was Fandral who spoke up first, too: "Where is Odin?"
Loki kept his expression neutral, carefully paying a mind not to grimace at the mention of the old man's name, as he replied: "Father has fallen into the Odinsleep. Mother fears he may never awaken again."
Sif exchanged a look with the others before she said: "We would speak with her."
"She has refused to leave my father's bedside. You can bring your urgent matter to me," Loki responded, trying to rein in the sarcasm that might just start dripping from his words if this got any further. He leaned forward, a hand on his chest, and added for emphasis: "Your king."
Quickly, Sif covered for the others' silence: "We would ask you to end Thor's banishment."
Loki rose from the throne, Gungnir tightly in his grasp, while he answered slowly, as if talking to a child: "My first command cannot be to undo the All-Father's last. We are on the brink of a war with Jotunheim. Our people must have a sense of continuity to feel safe in these difficult times."
Sif practically jumped up from her spot, ready to pounce on him, but she was held back by both Fandral and Volstagg. The swordsman looked up at Loki, emotions battling for dominance in his eyes.
The mage suppressed a smirk and continued: "We must all stand together, for the good of Asgard."
Slowly, Fandral bowed his head. "Of course."
It took some more agonising seconds until Sif finally broke her defiant glare and turned around on her heel. The others stood, each of them bowing just deep enough as not to be disrespectful. Fandral lingered the longest, meeting Loki's eyes for a long moment before he bowed – deeper than the rest – and then followed them out of the hall.
Loki leaned back against the throne with a tired sigh as soon as he was alone again. His first day and he already found being king more tedious than he had thought possible. A part of that might be his lacking enthusiasm – the conviction from the evening before had left him after the first two hours of sitting on the throne. Here, there were no heroic deeds or epic adventures he could impress Odin with. The most remarkable thing he had done so far was not slicing half of his guests' heads off after he had had to listen to the same doubts and complaints about his unexpected kingship for the umpteenth time. Thinking about it, he found that that already deserved a some recognition.
The hall was silent around him, allowing the thoughts he had pushed into the back of his mind to return once again. Frigga had said that there was a chance of Thor returning to Asgard; and while, in the first moment, that thought had felt hopeful, like he could somehow make right what he had done...
...he couldn't let it happen. He couldn't. If Thor returned, it would mean that he was worthy to – and right now, that would destroy everything Loki had built up here. Thor came back, became king; Loki's own trap was going to snap shut around him. He would be rightfully bound to hand Anthony over to Freyja, according to a verbal contract that had been concluded right in front of Asgard's queen. Mother or not, Frigga couldn't protect him in that case.
Not that he, personally, would have any problem with murdering the crazy siblings to prevent that contract from coming into action, but right now, when everything was in uproar over Odin's possible death, Thor's banishment and the slowly spreading news of Loki's kingship, a scandal was the last thing he could use. He would risk to cause one if that was what it took, but he'd really rather avoid that.
Which meant that he would have prevent Thor from coming back too early.
'
It was ridiculously easy to blend in among the mortals. A suit and a simple spell that averted the others' eyes from Loki was all it took to walk in there and have a chat with Thor without anyone even seeming to notice him.
Convincing his desperate brother that he could not return home left Loki with a bitter taste on his tongue, but proved to be just as simple.
It's not forever, he told himself. Just until this is resolved. As soon as he knew that Anthony wasn't in danger anymore, he was going to make sure that Thor could return - but for now, his brother would have to be fine on his own. He was over a thousand years old, he would manage. And maybe a lesson in humility will do the damned oaf good.
He hadn't expected it to work. Not really. Still, when he tried to lift Mjölnir from its place embedded in the rock and the hammer did not budge an inch, Loki felt a sharp pang of disappointment when he let the short shaft go again. He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, that this was not what he was here for, but the knowledge that Thor still had this over him hurt.
Not what I'm here for, he reminded himself. It does not matter.
One day, he'd believe himself.
'
Loki didn't linger in his chambers. He changed back into his usual armour and sat down on his bed, breathed in deeply and tried to regain the calmness he needed to come in contact with his own magic. If he had been able to ignore how shaken he was before, it didn't work when he concentrated on his power; it was unsteady, waiting to lash out against anything that came too close.
The mage cursed quietly and gritted his teeth. Magic had its own will and was far more difficult to tame if the one attempting to do the taming wasn't in accord with himself. From an early age on, Loki had learned how to rein in his emotions, making him the calmer of the two brothers, and he wasn't about to lose that ability now.
It took him longer than usual, but after some minutes, he was calm enough to trust himself with making decisions again. He took some more deep breaths, then, he attached the dark green cape to his armour. For a second, he considered taking his ceremonial helmet, but decided against it. He definitely couldn't use it freezing to his head.
He left his chambers and headed towards the Bifröst with fast, hurried steps. Heimdall greeted him with a bow of his head that was just on the right side of polite - the gatekeeper had never liked him and that was unlikely to change.
"Jotunheim," Loki demanded curtly, returning the nod.
Heimdall's eyebrows rose and he asked: "May I inquire the cause for this?"
"A political visit," the mage responded with a clipped smile. "Somebody will have to right what Thor and his friends did, and it seems that this duty is mine now."
Slowly, the gatekeeper nodded and activated the Bifröst with his sword. Loki closed his eyes and let the pull of the bridge take him, finding himself where Odin had appeared on Sleipnir's back the day before.
He looked around as he renewed the spell that he used to shroud himself from Heimdall's eyes. He would prove he was worthy, no matter what it took. He can see and hear us even now, Frigga's voice echoed in his head. Loki's clouding spells had proven to be useful even against Odin in the past and he would just have to hope that it didn't change when his father went into the Odinsleep.
Loki shuddered, but it was not because of the icy wind on his skin. The cold had never bothered him. And now I know why. Oh joy. Apprehensively, he made his way over the vast, icy surface of Jotunheim, slowly and steadily making his way towards where they had met Laufey the other day.
Darkness was shrouding the old temple, save for the shafts of light knifing through gaps in the damaged ceiling. Surprisingly quietly for their height, the Jotnar circled Loki, all of them half-hidden in the shadows between columns and fallen rocks of ice.
With dozens of blood-red eyes watching him, Loki suddenly didn't feel apprehensive anymore. He was scared.
"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you." And no, that was really not helping.
Looking up into Laufey's eyes, Loki forced himself to stand tall and sound more confident than he was as he replied, spreading his arms: "I've come alone and unarmed."
Laufey leaned forward on his throne. "To what end?"
"To make you another proposition."
There was a moment of hesitation as realisation dawned on the Jotun's eyes. He rose from his throne and approached Loki with his next words, towering over Asgard's king menacingly: "You are the one who let us into Asgard."
The mage gave him a thin-lipped smile. "You're welcome."
Suddenly, a large hand closed around his throat, lifting Loki up so he had to stand on the tip of his toes as Laufey snarled: "My men are dead and I have no casket. You are a deceiver."
Forcing himself to stay still so he wouldn't make a fool of himself by struggling against the far stronger being, Loki forced a grin that was all teeth as he responded: "You have no idea what I am." He hoped that his racing pulse wasn't noticeable, but with the other's hand where it was, that was unlikely. Under his skin, he could feel his magic stirring again when the cold, unforgiving grip around his throat chased the paleness of his Aesir glamour away and Laufey's eyes widened in shock and fascination. His grin widening, Loki greeted: "Hello, father."
Laufey released him and took a small step back, sizing his son up while Loki drew a deep breath. Smirking, the Jotun stated: "Ah, the bastard son. I thought Odin had killed you. That's what I would have done." And with those words, every possible trace of regret of what he was about to do vanished from Loki's mind. This one was no better than Odin, after all. "He's as weak as you are."
"No longer weak," the mage corrected, sounding only slightly raspy. "I now rule Asgard until Odin awakens. Perhaps you should not have so carelessly abandoned me." He couldn't help the hint of bitterness that shone through his words.
They gave Laufey pause as he cocked his head slightly. "Or perhaps," he replied slowly, "it was the wisest choice I've ever made. I will hear you."
Loki took another deep breath before he explained: "I will conceal you and a handful of your soldiers, lead you into his chambers and let you slay him where he lies. I'll keep the throne, and you will have the Casket."
The Jotun's eyes searched Loki's face for any trace of a lie, but he had himself perfectly under control. He had to. One little slip, and everything might just be in vain. After a few seconds, Laufey asked warily: "Why would you do this?"
"When all is done, we will have a permanent peace between our two worlds," Loki replied without missing a beat, remembering the words Odin had spoken in the vault. It was an admirable goal, the old man had just approached it all wrong. "Then I, the bastard son, will have accomplished what Odin and Thor never could."
That seemed to satisfy Laufey; a grin began to spread on his features. "This is a great day for Jotunheim. Asgard is finally ours."
"No," Loki contradicted with a shake of his head, "Asgard is mine. The rest of the Nine Realms will be yours, if you do as you're told." Come on, keep swallowing lies, you greedy monster.
Another tension-filled moment passed, then Laufey declared: "I accept."
Loki nodded and turned to leave without another response. As soon as he left the temple, he let the slightest trace of a smile cross his face, but schooled his features into neutrality again as he dropped his clouding spell and called out for Heimdall. A moment later, the golden shine of the Bifröst enveloped him.
When it subsided, Loki could feel Heimdall's glare on him and looked up with a half smile as he asked: "What troubles you, Gatekeeper?"
"I turned my gaze upon you in Jotunheim, but I could neither see nor hear you," the gold-clad man stated with his dark voice. "You were shrouded from me, like the Frost Giants who entered this Realm."
"Perhaps your senses have weakened after your many years of service," he replied with fake indulgence.
"Or perhaps someone has found a way to hide that which he does not wish me to see."
Loki sized the tall man up, smiled to cover up his thoughts racing behind his calm facade. "You have great power, Heimdall," he stated. "Tell me, did Odin ever fear you?"
"No."
"And why is that?"
"Because he is my King and I am sworn to obey him."
"Exactly," Loki nodded affirmingly. "Just as you're sworn to obey me now. Yes?"
There was a beat of hesitation before Heimdall answered, with barely concealed reluctance: "Yes."
"Good," Loki praised. "Then you will open the Bifröst to no-one until I have undone what my brother has started."
Without waiting for a reply, he headed out of the Observatory. Heimdall's gaze prickled at the back of his neck for a long time.
'
The rest of the day passed with the same boring routine that had started it and Loki retreated into his chambers as soon as the sun touched the horizon. He fell backwards onto his bed, completely gracelessly, and let his limbs splay out around him. No-one was around to watch and judge now. Finally.
Norns, no, being king was far too dull for him. He would have preferred Thor on the throne, Thor who would be bathing in the people's attention and handle all the boring public stuff, while Loki could linger in the background and step in when it was necessary, handle the more delicate and twisted things that his brother would inevitably fail at.
But he couldn't have him returning. Not now. Soon, when everything was settled, when Anthony was safe - but not now.
When had his thinking begun to revolve around one single person?
With a sigh, Loki pulled the heavy ceremonial helmet off and tossed it into a corner carelessly before he began to strip out of his regal armour, which was poking and pricking uncomfortably in his position on the bed.
By the time he slid under the covers, too exhausted from his day to do much else, he was tense with anticipation and apprehension for the next day. There was so much that could go wrong, it was hard to properly relax in a state like this. Then again, he had to be in control of his emotions to use magic, so he should be able to calm down enough to catch some hours of rest.
He managed to silence his restless mind enough to fall asleep in less than an hour.
'
Still, he woke early in the next morning, the sky outside just beginning to lighten up gently. For a minute, Loki contemplated to just go back to sleep, but he would have to get up soon, anyway, so he reluctantly changed back into his pompous, ceremonial armour, including the helmet, and headed towards the throne room, forgoing breakfast for the day.
On his way, he made a detour out to one of the large balconies looking out over the rest of Asgard. The view from up here, with the sky slowly gaining colour overhead, was magnificent. Peaceful. Calm, for once.
Which was why the moment had to be interrupted, of course. With a weary sigh, Loki turned into the direction of the sound of footsteps approaching him and ,et the eyes of the Einherjar guard who came hurried out onto the balcony to announce, slightly out of breath: "My liege, the Warriors Three and Sif have gone missing."
No. Oh, no, no, no, you morons, why must you make this so hard on all of us? Loki gritted his teeth, tightening his grip around Gungnir as he hurried towards the bridge. He could have made it right. He could have solved the Freyja-Freyr-situation, taken care of Laufey, and gotten Thor back, but no, they had to interfere, they had to go and destroy it all again. Imbeciles. Well then, he would just have to act quickly.
"Tell me, Loki," Heimdall greeted him at the end of the Bifröst, stepping out of the Observatory, "how did you get the Jotuns into Asgard?"
Oh, great. Just marvellous. "You think the Bifröst is the only way in and out of the Realm?" he retorted. "There are secret paths between worlds to which even you with all your gifts are blind. But I have need of them no longer, now that I am king." He came closer, drawing himself up to his full height and trying to ignore that the gatekeeper was still towering over him nonetheless. "And I say, for your act of treason, you are relieved of your duties as gatekeeper and you are no longer a citizen of Asgard."
"Then I need no longer obey you."
Well. Damn.
Heimdall raised his massive sword and strode towards Loki. The mage reached out his hands to grasp the handles of the Casket of Ancient Winters as he pulled it out of his pocket dimension. Immediately, he could feel his magic pulsing at the touch, his fingers taking the disgusting dark blue of the Jotun skin. He stared up at Heimdall so he wouldn't have to look at himself as he opened the Casket towards the Gatekeeper, unleashing the howling, icy wings trapped inside of it.
Ice began to cling to the guardian's body, freezing in bigger and bigger patches, yet he was still moving forward, although his movements were getting slower by the second. Still, he managed to take a swing at Loki and the mage was just about to take a step back when the blade stopped just before his throat.
With a quiet sigh of relief, he closed the Casket and stored it again before sidestepping Heimdall's frozen body, taking Gungnir up again, and approaching the controls of the Observatory.
Slowly, he inserted the spear to the socket and took a second to revel in the feeling of sudden power coursing through him before he closed his eyes and reached out with the additional might that the bridge provided him with, only serving to fuel his rage on the imbeciles insisting of spoiling his every plan. While the Observatory began to spin around him, the Destroyer materialised before him, a fiery glow rising within it.
Loki stared at the veiled machine and quietly ordered: "Ensure my brother does not return." Then, he let the Bifröst swallow the metallic creature.
Next, he turned his attention towards Jotunheim. Taking another fortifying breath, he forbade himself to stall any longer and opened the Bifröst. Just seconds later, Laufey and two of his soldiers stepped out onto the platform and Loki pulled Gungnir from the socket.
Determinedly, he pushed his concerns and doubts back. There was no going back now. With a thin-lipped smile, he greeted: "Father. Welcome to Asgard."
The pounding of his heart in his chest made him light-headed and he was tempted just to turn around and cancel all of this, what in Hel's name am I doing, there is no way this is going to work, but that wasn't really an option anymore. He barely heard Laufey's rumbled response as he turned around and led the Jotnar out of the Observatory and onto the bridge. Two of them stayed behind, taking positions on either sides of Heimdall's frozen body, and Loki cast a cloaking spell around himself, the Jotun king and the two soldiers he took with himself. He didn't really need to attract the attention of Asgard's citizen and it was really unlikely that they would miss a Jotun walking through the city.
Their way towards Odin's chamber was a haze. Adrenaline, anticipation and, not that he liked to admit that, dread made the minutes the way took blur together and they entered Odin's chambers far too early.
Laufey seemed to all but forget his son as he caught sight of Asgard's old king. Walking towards him while a blade of ice formed around his arm, he murmured in his deep voice: "It's said that you can still see and hear everything that transpires around you." Loki, behind him, took a shaky breath and gripped Gungnir more tightly. Anytime now. "I hope it's true, so you will know your death came by the hand of Laufey."
He raised the blade in the same moment that Loki raised Gungnir and before the Jotun could bring his arm down, a blast of pure concentrated energy hit him in the back and flung him against the opposite wall.
"And your death," Loki breathed, slowly setting Gungnir down next to himself, "came by the son of Odin."
He only got a second to revel in the realisation that yes, it had worked, and if Odin could truly see him now, he would know what Loki had done. With an easy movement, he raised the spear again and fired a blast at one of the Jotnar who were moving for him. He was about to take out the second one when the brute's eyes widened and he collapsed into a heap of icy limbs on the floor.
Frigga's sword was sticking out of his back and she stared at Loki over the corpse before she hurried towards him and locked him in a tight embrace. The mage returned it, ignoring the brief flare of bad conscience as he vowed: "I swear to you, mother, they will pay for what they've done today. I will end the Jotun threat, now and forever!" He stepped back, casting a look at Odin as he added quietly: "And I will make you proud."
For that moment, everything was perfect. Relief and euphoria flooded Loki's system, making him even more light-headed than before, but this time, it was in a good way. Which was why it couldn't last. Anthony's ironic voice echoed in his head, this is why we can't have nice things, when Thor appeared in the doorway, panting and blood drying on his forehead.
Loki felt all thoughts grind to a sudden halt. No, stop, this is wrong. This is not how it's supposed to be. Why is he here?
"Thor!" Frigga exclaimed, extracting herself from Loki's arms to hurry over to her eldest son. The blond warrior half-heartedly returned her hug, but never tore his eyes away from Loki.
The mage glanced down at Mjölnir in his brother's hand and raised an eyebrow, faking calmness that he didn't feel in the slightest: "Found her way back to you, did she?"
"No thanks to you," the prince responded darkly.
Frigga, picking up on the growing tension between her sons, took a careful step back and glanced from one to the other with a softly spoken "What?"
"Why don't you tell her?" Thor sneered, his grip around the hammer tightening as he stepped closer. "How you sent the Destroyer to kill our friends? To kill me?" Suddenly, they are our friends, huh?
Loki cocked his head slightly and quickly lied: "He must have been enforcing father's last command, then." He ignored Frigga's alarmed and confused gaze on him, it was distracting, he could really not use his bad conscience right now. He had done nothing wrong. They'd see that, sooner or later. For now, he had to try to keep this situation at bay somehow.
"You are a talented liar, brother. Always have been."
Or, well. Maybe not.
"It's good to have you back," Loki said with a smile, shifting the spear in his hands. Then, his expression shifted into something colder; there was no use in lying any longer, he would just have to go through with his plan and hope that he was fast enough. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to destroy Jotunheim."
He raised Gungnir and fired it point-blank at Thor. The blast sent the thunderer flying backwards, right through the wall and possibly the one behind it.
Without sparing a glance towards Frigga, he closed his eyes and envisioned the Observatory. When he opened them again, he was surrounded by the dome's golden walls. Without giving himself another second to hesitate, he strode over to the controls and practically rammed Gungnir into the panel, turning the spear and opening the Bifröst towards Jotunheim.
Leaving it open for too long would unleash the Bifröst's power on Jotunheim without limitations, which would destroy the realm with all of you on it.
Why, thank you, Heimdall.
The massive turret began to spin and aligned in the right direction. This time, the connection between the two realms was not made for transportation; it was simply the Bifröst's power unleashed without control or restraint. Loki pulled Gungnir from the socket and stepped back when ice began to spread from the control panel.
He heard Thor landing heavily on the bridge outside and tore his gaze away from the beautiful spectacle in front of him to face his brother as he mused: "All these years, and no-one ever dared to use it as a weapon."
Thor stared at him with wide eyes and hurried towards the ever growing block of ice with Mjölnir ready to strike in his hand. Before he could reach the control panel, Loki raised Gungnir and used its force to blast the prince back against a wall once more. While Thor staggered to his feet, Loki descended the steps leading up to the control panel.
"You can't stop it," he stated. "The Bifröst will build until it rips Jotunheim apart."
"Why have you done this?" Thor demanded, sounding almost desperate. Desperate for a race he hated. Ridiculous.
"To do what father never could," Loki responded coldly. "To destroy their kind forever. When he awakens, he'll see the wisdom of what I've done." They would all see. In time.
"He won't!" Thor nearly shouted, brandishing his hammer. "You can't kill an entire race!"
"What is this new-found love for the Frost Giants?" Loki snarled, gripping Gungnir tighter as he advanced on his brother. "You, who would have killed them all with your bare hands?"
"I've changed."
Oh, but he had. The Thor he had known would maybe not have approved of Loki's methods, but he would never have tried to stop Loki from erasing a race like the Jotnars', one that he considered a shame to the Nine Realms at that. No, his brother would have joined in with glee.
"So have I," he bit out and slapped Thor with the flat side of Gungnir's blade. "Now fight me, brother." He had expected that to work. A humiliating gesture like that, with no chance of actually hurting Thor, would usually have offended his elder brother enough to make him lash out in retaliation. Gritting his teeth, he swung the spear again, this time with the intention to hurt Thor – he had had enough warning – but the thunderer just caught it in his hand and raised Mjölnir. For a moment, Loki thought he was finally going to fight back, but instead, he hauled himself into the air and towards the control panel.
The mage threw him off-course with another blast from Gungnir and Thor, while getting back to his feet, shouted over the crackling of the Bifröst: "Is the throne really worth what you've done? What you became?"
I didn't become anything, this is all I ever was, Loki thought bitterly. "I never wanted the throne," he snarled and then, surprised by his own furious honesty, continued: "All I ever wanted was to be your equal." Which was true, in a way, but definitely not the whole truth. Then again, he had even less interest in admitting to Thor that he had foiled his coronation to protect Anthony than telling him about his jealousy. One of the two was bad enough already. "Now fight me!" For Hel's sake, since when do I have to ask you to fight? You were always so keen on your brawls and now? The one time when I could use your belligerence.
"I will not fight you, brother!"
"I am not your brother," Loki hissed. "I never was." He had planned on distracting Thor, stalling him a little bit longer so he wouldn't be able to stop the Bifröst. He hadn't wanted to have this argument with him. Not now. Possibly not ever.
"Loki, this is madness."
"Is it? Is it?" He fired another blast from Gungnir, Thor dodged and rolled to his feet, but still didn't counter. "What happened on Midgard that turned you so soft?" The one time, the one time in his life he wanted Thor to fight him. "Don't tell me it was that woman!" There was no response to that, just Thor silently gritting his teeth and gripping Mjölnir tighter. Loki's eyes widened slightly in surprise and he continued: "Oh. It was. Well, perhaps when we are finished here, I'll pay her a little visit myself!"
That finally did it. With a roar, the prince jumped at Loki, his hammer raised high, and Loki riposted with Gungnir as they began a heated exchange of blows. Loki didn't actually aim to win; all he needed to do was distract Thor long enough for the Bifröst to finish its work. For a while, nobody spoke a word, until a sudden pulse from the Bifröst tossed them out of the Observatory with twin shouts.
Loki used the brief moment of confusion to cast an invisibility spell while he crafted a clone, hanging on to the edge of the bridge and pleading for Thor to help him. Tensely, he watched as his brother came to stand on his feet again and stared down at the clone for a moment before he crouched to pull the illusion back up.
For a moment, Loki wanted to grin widely. Some part of him had expected Thor not to care, or maybe to step on his fingers to make him fall. To see the thunderer still trying to 'save' him gave him a strange feeling of relief.
Not that he would have Thor knowing about that.
He pretended not to see the flash of betrayal in the other god's eyes when the illusion flickered and vanished upon being touched. For a while, he let Thor fight his clones futilely – stalling, stalling, he was still just stalling until Jotunheim was no more – and watched his sibling grow more and more enraged until he raised Mjölnir with a frustrated yell and summoned a bolt of lightning that spread out over the bridge to hit every single one of the illusions.
The blast sent Loki stumbling backwards and knocked Gungnir from his grasp. Dazedly, he laid on his back, trembled running through his body from the sudden electric shock. He blinked rapidly, trying to get up and wincing when Thor stepped over him. There was a sudden weight on him that pushed the air from his lungs.
With an incredulous inhale, he stared up at Thor and then at Mjölnir on his chest. Gritting his teeth against the pain of his ribs, feeling like they were going to bend in and crack at any second, he tried to pull Mjölnir off, but it didn't budge an inch. Of course it didn't. Even after all he had done, for Asgard, for Odin, for all of them, and still Thor was the one who was worthy and golden and loved.
They would see. In time.
Forcing a grin, he looked up at Thor who stared towards the Observatory, something akin to desperation marring his features. With a slightly strangled voice from the pressure on his chest, he called out: "Look at you! The mighty Thor with all your strength. What good does it do you now?" If he wanted to rid Loki of all his weapons, he would have to gag him.
Thor looked at him, then down at the bridge and over to the Observatory. Then, his gaze fell down to the bridge again, vibrating with the force of the Bifröst energy being transferred to the dome at its end. Suddenly, his eyes widened in realisation.
The crushing weight on Loki's chest vanished and he let his head fall back, breathing in deeply as his lungs felt free again. For a few seconds, he just laid on his back, gasping for air, when a sudden tremor shook the bridge. His head snapped up and he stared at Thor, who knelt on the Bifröst and was raising Mjölnir again to bring her back down on the bridge.
"What are you doing?!" Loki yelled, stumbling to his feet. He almost lost his balance again when another tremor went through the bridge. No, no, this oaf was going to ruin everything, he had to stop, how was he going to get him to stop? Right. His woman. "If you destroy the bridge, you will never see her again!"
Thor hesitated, murmuring something that sounded like "forgive me", but didn't stop, crashing Mjölnir down on the bridge over and over again. Hastily, Loki grabbed Gungnir and ran towards his brother, raising the spear as he prepared to pounce on Thor.
A wave of energy hauled him off his feet, upwards into the air with a force that knocked the air out of Loki's lungs again. With a startled cry, he spun in the air, clutching Gungnir tightly because it was the only thing to hold on to right now while he fell back down towards the Bifröst – and past it, down towards the void.
It felt like his arm was going to rip from its socket when someone else suddenly gripped Gungnir, stopping his fall abruptly. He gasped for air when he suddenly felt like he was able to breathe again, then he looked up at the bridge.
Thor was dangling from the ledge, Odin's hand clutching around his boot, shattered pieces of the bridge and the Observatory floating around them and sinking towards the abyss beneath.
Loki stared at his father, trying to find some sign of understanding in his eyes, of approval for what he had done, had tried to do, but all he spotted was disappointment and regret. As always.
"I could have done it, Father!" he yelled, nearly hysterically, Odin had to understand, Loki hadn't done anything wrong. He had been about to end what the All-Father hadn't, he should be grateful. "I could have done it! For you! For all of us!"
If anything, the sorrow in Odin's eye grew deeper as he shook his head minutely and quietly said: "No, Loki."
The mage's vision went blurry and he tried to blink his tears away when he realised that no, they weren't going to understand. They couldn't. No matter what he did, he was never going to make them understand.
Suddenly, there was a glimpse of blue and Loki blinked rapidly, glancing up at Anthony, who stared back in something that looked like horror, eyes wide and his face unhealthily pale as he wheezed for air. The blue tunic looked like he had pulled it on in a haste and Loki would almost have smiled bitterly. Anthony had used to wear his colours. It seemed like he had truly managed to fall from everyone's good graces.
"Loki, no," Thor said warningly. Apparently, he had seen something shattering in his brother's eyes. Loki looked from him to Odin, then to Anthony and then at Thor, seeing the silent plea in his brother's eyes.
A shift went through them when Odin unexpectedly moved backwards to pull Thor back onto the remnants of the Bifröst. A bout of panic flared up in Loki's chest – he couldn't go back there. Not if they weren't able to understand what he had done, not if they couldn't ever learn to appreciate his methods – he could have been successful, he could have relieved them from the Jotun plague once and for all if not for their interference – not if he was going to be judged for wanting only the best for Asgard.
For Anthony and Asgard, he corrected himself. He was the first motivation of what you did, remember? And now he despises you just as much as they do.
With those thoughts in mind, it was surprisingly easy to let go of the spear.