After three days of fighting that ranged all around the world, Thanos was finally cornered. Forewarned and heavily armed, Earth's heroes had managed to protect the two Infinity Stones in their custody.
(Thor and Loki were rather surprised to discover the Sorcerer Supreme had one as well, the Time Stone).
Without augmentation from the stones, Thanos' army had gradually succumbed to Midgard's natives and the Asgardian coalition, while Thor and the Avengers pursued the Titan himself. Now he was pinned against a forcefield powered by vibranium, which was a formidable barrier even to the Titan.
(Thor and the Avengers were very surprised when the Sorcerer Supreme had advised them to enlist the help of the tiny African nation of Wakanda, but it seemed the Sorcerer Supreme had an enduring relationship with the Black Panther. Or at least, had very good records and possibly spied on the world writ large. Loki was just surprised to discover that the Sorcerer Supreme he had known in passing for a couple centuries had suddenly, and recently, been replaced by some relatively young man).
With Thanos' back to the impenetrable wall, the Hulk held one arm and Thor the other, with a little help from the Warriors Three and Sif. Matched war rhinoceri anchored the whips and chains looped around the Titan's legs. All the other Avengers labored to maintain the bindings on one leg, while the Black Panther and what really looked like half of his court held the other. Loki stood with the Sorcerer Supreme watching the struggle pensively. Together, they had already leeched the Titan of much of his magical strength over the past few days of the chase, but there was still at least one nasty curse shifting dully under Thanos' skin. Doctor Strange slowly stepped forward, but Loki stopped him.
"You'll die if you try to finish him," he said.
"And you won't?" Strange asked sarcastically.
"Hopefully," Loki said, though it was unclear what he meant by that. He drew a knife from his back that thinned and lengthened into a deadly-sharp shortsword, its cutting edge reinforced with magic.
Thanos bared his teeth. "Come cripple, all of this, and you'll let me kill you after all?" Thor yanked on his arm, but the Mad Titan didn't even seem to notice.
"Hopefully," Loki whispered, and struck, sword whistling into his enemy's exposed neck. As soon as the blade made contact with purple skin, the shadow beneath burst forth, racing up Loki's sword and into his hands. A wall of green flame rushed to meet it, exploding into magical incandescence too bright to look at. Then with a snick, it was over. The head fell off, leaving only Loki holding a partially melted sword in completely charred hands. He sank to one knee, face expressionless.
"Loki..." Thor began worriedly.
"Pull," the younger brother ordered. The Hulk needed no further urging. He ripped a purple limb clean off, a simple matter now that the muscles were slack and the magical reinforcements banished.
As the others worked on quartering the Titan's corpse, ending him for good, Strange came up behind Loki. "Let me see," he said gently. Loki looked up at him, pale face still blank. "I was a real doctor, once," Strange offered, showing his own brutally scarred and tremulous hands. Loki's lips curled. He pulled his hands apart. The sword hilt fell with a clatter, taking most of his blacked fingers with it as little fragments of charcoal. "Jesus!" Strange squeaked, then steeled himself to reach out.
Loki let the human examine the injury, but it was clear there would be no real healing from it. His hands were gone, just like his leg.
"Loki! Your hands..." Thor shouted as he came over.
The others were slowly gathering in a loose circle too, but Loki ignored them, fixated on Thor. "It doesn't matter," he muttered. The world was shifting before his eyes, and his heart was racing. He seemed to be going into shock, which was unusual for him.
"Of course it matters!"
"No. No it doesn't. Thor, I'm ready. Take me to Odin."
Thor stopped cold, and the other Asgardians nearby stiffened. They knew what he meant. Tears welled in Thor's eyes. "Loki, no..." he pleaded.
"Yes," Loki said stubbornly. "I've waited long enough. It's time." His body sagged a little, though he kept his maimed hands carefully elevated. They were excruciating. He began a slow murmur, the language quickly taken up by the Warriors Three and other nearby Asgardians to become a rhythmic chant in an ancient, guttural language that must have sounded utterly alien to the gathered humans. It was a death chant, beseeching the Norns and the Allfather for passage to paradise.
Thor gripped Loki's shoulders and hugged him fiercely. He was still shaking his head when he said, grudgingly, "Alright. You're right. But first you're getting well enough to walk with your head up."
Loki stopped his muttering and rolled his slightly glazed eyes. "Thor, not that again."
"Yes. You will be honored, brother, and properly this time. I swear it."
"I don't care," Loki sighed.
"But I do. And everyone else will agree with me." Behind him, the Warriors Three nodded quickly, though Fandral and Volstagg both looked a little queasy as they stared at Loki's fresh injuries more closely. "Please, Brother."
"You're mean," Loki said eventually. He tapped Thor's shoulder with his chin. "Help me up." Thor just picked him up, allowing the prosthetic leg to lie in the dirt where it had first fallen. Loki really had used up his whole well of power instinctually (and a little unwillingly, truth be told) warding off the Titan's last curse; a lesser sorcerer would have been thoroughly dead.
"Someone grab that," Thor said. "Can we stay with you for a bit, your highness?" He directed this question to the Black Panther, who wordlessly gestured towards the one undamaged flier that could take them into the heart of Wakanda. "Thank you!"
"You're not my brother," Loki slurred petulantly as they left. Thor just grinned.
Author's Note: Sorry.
