Note: Mind you, the M rating stands not only for the romance, but for violence as well. Then again, violence is something you can find even in fairytales so maybe it isn't such a big deal. Creating a life is taboo, but taking a life is okay. What is wrong with the human society?!

*clears throat* Nevermind. I'm pretty sure I don't know what I'm saying. About this chapter: I didn't study martial arts. Wish I did though.

Synchronization

Loki's mind divided to separately focus on a number of problems.

First, battle strategy. It turned out the wolves were excellent at synchronized fighting in groups. In regular battles, with human or humanoid opponents, one could rely on the fact that soldiers faced each other one on one as a rule, meaning that while they could outnumber the enemy, say three to one, they would always attack one after another. Attacking at the same time, even from two different sides, would generally decrease any soldier's ability to follow enemy's movements and respond accordingly, because they would constantly have to be on a look out for their ally. To improve the efficiency of this battle strategy required years of special training. While the technique of attacking individually gave the opponent better means of defense, it was still far more practical, so it made sense for it to be used regularly. Besides, fighting multiple opponents one by one wasn't as easy as it sounded, so when fighting against anyone who wasn't a madly skilled fighter there was no need to step up the difficulty of defense.

Loki's first move was a neutral one; he turned his back to Thor's so they could keep each other safe. It took him precious three seconds after the fight had started to recognize the strategy. Because of this, he immediately received a bloody scratch on his left side that he was completely unprepared for. It healed right afterwards, but he had still winced in pain. Ever since then he felt like he didn't even have time to breathe. Every time he moved to defend his one side, he was left pitifully vulnerable on the other. It was only a question of constant movement whether they will get enough time to strike him there. If he slowed down for less than a second, their fangs would win the race with his dagger. Somehow it felt like he was only delaying the inevitable.

Second, wounds. He could feel his healing magic. It dutifully cleared up any bruises and scratches whenever he moved too violently or when he made a mistake and they managed to wound him before he sped up his pace once more. He was aware that, while momentarily barely noticeable, this steady drain of power could weaken him in the long run. And unless he came to think of some instant enemy-destruction spell, winning this battle seemed like a long shot. It would be better to shut the healing off and wait until he will truly need it.

Only, that was a purely theoretical concern. In truth there were a number of problems with it. One, he would need to focus on the magic to control its flow and to say he was preoccupied with more important matters at the moment would be an understatement. Two, the steady healing could possibly be the only thing to keep him alive if, or more probably, once they managed to break his defense and cause him some serious harm. There was always the chance that he would be too heavily wounded to reactivate the magic and only constant healing could save his life. It was all just a game of chance and he had no idea what was the best thing to bet on.

Third, light. His very first instinct, when he saw the beasts charging at him, was to give up the light. It was a secondary spell, obviously useless in battle and he couldn't fight with his fist, if he had to hold his palm open. It took him less than a second to remember that he needed the light, something his self-preservation instinct completely failed to note. If he lost it, even for a second, the darkness would be the last thing he would ever see.

But not only was the light a bothersome additional concern that slowed him down, it even wasn't strong enough to actually be of much use. It served to create an uneven circle of light, drooping whenever he failed to concentrate on it with at least a shred of his mind. Since the light radiated from his palm rather than a solid post, it created wild dancing shadows, making the whole scene only more chaotic and haunting.

And then there was the energy it consumed. If he was simply taking a stroll through the caves, Loki could keep the light up for days, maybe even weeks without stopping and it wouldn't tire him. It was a very simple process of fueling the air molecules with his energy to make them glow. It was similar to creating a flame, using the energy to create warmth. It wasn't a hard spell. But if he was to use it constantly, while actively moving, jumping, striking and falling back, while at the same time having to power the constant healing of all the wounds on his body, including the serious ones he was sure to get soon, it got a little complicated. And just a bit more draining than he was used to. Being tired would mean slowing down and he needed to move at his top speed to survive.

He wished he could make time slow down.

Thor embraced the battle like he always did, not expecting anything unusual. About three seconds later, he already knew better, when he found out that when he swung Mjölnir to hit the first wolf that jumped at him, he exposed his left side completely. Luckily, he managed to catch a glimpse of the second attacker from the corner of his eye and lift his fist just in time for the animal to slam right into, thus saving him the injury to his side that the wolf was clearly going for.

With his back turned to Loki's, the light Loki took the care to create barely reached him. For a while, it bothered him, because if magic was so great as to create a light out of nothing, why couldn't it create a light that was worth something? But then he noticed that the light always wavered at exactly the same instances when he heard Loki gasp out of shock or pain and the realization that the light was connected to Loki made him appreciate and respect it much more. Loki was giving of himself to allow Thor to see at least the wild and grotesque shapes of his enemies in the dark and Thor had absolutely no right to ask for more.

He wasn't used to having to move this quickly in battle, having to parry so many attacks at the same time. He could keep up most of the time, but then there were some attacks he simply didn't see coming and while injuries weren't discouraging him, he still found it rather exhausting. It made him wish he could create a storm and call forth lighting, because it would make the fight so much easier.

The seconds flew by, as the brothers fought side by side, not spearing each other as much as a glance. They had been trained to stand a chance in a fight against an enemy who fought in groups at some point during their training, but only briefly, because there were so little known enemies who actually did.

Loki wished he could teleport behind his enemies as he so usually did in battle, but at the same time he was aware that he couldn't. The light would move with him and he would leave Thor in the dark. It was, of course, entirely possible that the light would be sufficient for Thor to continue fighting without a problem, but there was no way to know for sure. Loki would be willing to risk only if he knew that what he gained in exchange would be worth the risk.

The seconds turned to long minutes. The animals had every advantage on their side, the darkness, the numbers, the strategy. This was their way of hunting their prey and they were ready to put up with anything to get the taste of flesh. Pressed on by their hunger and bloodlust, there was no hope of them getting tired or scared. For them, it was this or nothing. The princes on the other hand had only their stamina, bound to run out at some point. It was possible that it won't run out until they had defeated all of their opponents, but new enemies always seemed to spring up from the darkness and while Loki had no idea how many opponents were they really facing, somehow he had a bad feeling about it.

They fought, not stopping, even as the minutes dragged on and on.

He felt the fangs digging into his flesh, until they hit the bone and somehow he was sure he shouldn't be conscious, he refused to believe that his consciousness could endure such pain. He couldn't scream, because all he could do was gasp for air helplessly, tears running down his cheeks. He felt his legs threatening to give out under him, as the wolf that had managed to bore its jaws in his arm started deliberately dragging him down. This only seemed to spread vigor among the other wolves, as if there were no boundaries to their limitless sources of energy.

He moved Sannindi to strike the wolf. His rational mind told him that he already lost and there was no reason for him to keep trying, because even if he managed to make himself fight on, he would only make similar mistake a moment later and then they would kill him. His instinct screamed to ignore all thoughts and continue moving no matter how much every single part of his body hurt. If nothing else, he needed to keep providing the light, for Thor if not for himself, which he wouldn't be able to do with his throat ripped out.

Sannindi found its way to the wolf's temple. The animal shook violently, as the dagger broke through its skull and almost managed to pull Loki down even without really trying. Loki moved to get the dead weight off his arm and noticed a different wolf. It was clearly preparing for a jump, its muscles tensing.

And Loki knew that even if he managed to raise Sannindi in time, there was no way for him to face the impact in a way that wouldn't send him down on the floor. And once he fell, there would open up a way to Thor's unprotected back and his own throat.

For once he found himself with a shortage of smart plans.

"Thor!" he screamed, as the wolf launched itself right at him.

The adrenalin that was pumping though Thor's veins was nothing compared to the mad thundering of his heart when he heard Loki's voice. He spun, fast like a lightning, even as his muscles screamed in pain from overstrain.

Loki drooped to the ground to make space for Thor's outstretched arm that held Mjölnir. It collided with the massive canine body right above Loki's head and sent it flying to the ground, right onto another wolf that wasn't quick enough in avoiding it.

"Thanks," said Loki, to make sure that Thor wouldn't linger out of concern for him, leaving his own back unprotected and would immediately return to the battle. He wished his voice could sound as cocky as the word he used, but against all his best attempts, it sounded like a sigh of relief.

Thor turned back just in time to rebut an attack from one of the wolves he had been facing before when Loki called him and at the same time received another wound, as he failed to avoid the simultaneous attack from the other side. Only after he had parried yet another strike he noticed that his wound hadn't healed. He didn't dare spare it much thought, didn't let it slow him down, even as it filled him with cold dread. He could hardly remember a time when his body wouldn't heal. It only helped him realize just how tired he was.

Loki straightened up and forced himself to once again start following his opponents' movements. Whenever they wound him now, the healing hurt almost as much as the injuries themselves, as the spell he had set up tugged at his weakened magical power. The piece of his mind that constantly focused on the light in his palm felt like it was drilling a hole in his skull. Like when he held his breath for far too long. Every instinct that he possessed told him that dropping the light would feel like being allowed to breathe again and yet he still knew that it would also mean dying.

And out of the desperation a sudden inspiration came to him.

Thor could use Mjölnir to create small earthquake, resulting in a shockwave that knocked down and stun his enemies. He only ever used it when he was alone in the middle of the enemy lines, to make sure that he never hit any of his allies.

It made sense that Thor hadn't used it during this battle. Since they stood so close to each other and neither could move away because of the shared light, there was no way to prevent Loki getting hit. Loki observed that the shockwave could be of smaller of bigger range, but he doubted Thor could essentially control its extent. Trying to guess how far he would have to teleport to avoid it would be impossible. Moreover, creating earthquake in a cave sounded fundamentally like a bad idea.

"Thor," called Loki, speaking quickly between breaths. "I need you to create a shockwave. As strong and large as you can." His heart raced like it was about to explode, the words stealing far too much of the precious air in his lungs. The only reassurance Loki had was that it will be over soon, one way or another.

"I can't!" answered Thor, his voice far more drained and desperate then Loki remembered ever hearing it. His body was covered in thousands of tiny streams of blood from his unhealed wounds. "You'd -"Before he had time to gather enough breath to speak on, Loki cut him off.

"I'll be fine." His hip, that had been wounded and healed about a hundred times by now, was once again torn open by aggressive claws and his magic started forcing the damaged muscles to grow back. Loki could no longer tell the difference between the pain of being injured and healed. "Just do it!"

Thor lifted Mjölnir. It did seem like the only hope for winning the fight. He only hoped that he had enough strength to make the shockwave powerful enough. And that Loki had a plan. He really, really hoped that Loki had a plan.

He brought the hammer down with all his remaining might.

The light went out. Loki's mind erupted in pain, as he forced his tormented magic to bent space to create a wormhole. Then, with his consciousness flickering out, he fell through; a split of a second before the shockwave hit the place where he had been standing.

The cave shook, echoing with deep thundering sound. Like from an explosion, the air rushed from the spot where Mjölnir had hit the stone ground. The ceiling trembled, boulders and dust falling down from it, but didn't break. The wolves were thrown back by the force, falling over one another, some breaking their necks in the collision, others knocked out cold. Some unfortunate ones were hit by the falling boulders.

Thor stayed unmoving down on one knee, breathing heavily. He knew that he had time before his enemies get back to their feet. He needed to catch his breath. If he didn't know that there will be some survivors from the shockwave, he would just lie right down on the ground and rest. His aching muscles threatened to never let him stand up again.

Then he heard something. He opened his eyes, surprised that he had closed them and even more surprised still when he couldn't see any difference. There was nothing but darkness surrounding him. That immediately evoked a different thought...

Once Loki hit the ground, his consciousness wearily returned. A few seconds of endless falling felt like a dream in a world of pain. Every single part of his body and mind told him to rest, to not get up, aching with fatigue. But somewhere above all that, above the pain and weariness, he remembered his purpose and pushed himself up to a sitting position. He didn't waste time with trying to get up on his feet. Instead he lifted his hand, opening up his palm.

Simply the idea of what he was doing was making him sick. When he reached for his magic and tugged at it, he felt like he was going to collapse from the sheer agony it caused him.

With gritted teeth, he sacrificed his energy to make the air directly above his palm glow.

"Loki!" Relief swept over Thor when he saw the light. Loki was sitting in the same place where he had been standing before, his expression tight with concentration. If he had breath to spare, Thor would ask him how he managed to evade the shockwave, but then, there were more practical concerns to worry about.

Some wolves had already got back to their feet, illuminated by the light Loki so thoughtfully provided. Now they edged nearer, with far less coordination and elegance then before. They seemed almost irritated, maybe even mad.

Thor stood up to face them. It was clear that Loki wasn't going to do it. Thor couldn't blame him, seeing that providing the light was clearly causing him problems.

The wolves came on him one by one. There was a clear desperation in their rapid attacks that ruled out any attempts at synchronization. It almost seemed like they weren't trying to hunt down prey anymore. Perhaps they simply wanted to avenge themselves after their ranks suffered such loss.

Thor, even with his whole body feeling like one big bleeding, aching wound, returned their strikes in kind, avenging himself and Loki, though it was the thought of the fight being over soon what kept him going far beyond his limits.

He tried his best to keep Loki save from the mad animals, which obviously realized that the younger Prince was an easier target. Only a few times was Loki forced to raise Sannindi a defend himself. When they wounded him, the light wavered, but he didn't allow it to go out. He was too tired to scream in pain anymore and he had run out of tears long ago.

And then, with one final blow, the battle was finally over. No more shadows emerged from the darkness. The light illuminated only broken bodies lying around the cave floor.

Thor let Mjölnir drop out of his hand. The world was flickering out in front of his eyes, replaced by painful dark dots all across his vision. He felt sick. He believed he was going to pass out. He turned to look at Loki.

Loki was scanning the scene around them. His light didn't reach the edges of the huge cave they were in. It was still possible that there were more enemies, just outside what they could see, not letting their presence known. Enemies who could see in dark and move quietly and who would be allowed the perfect opportunity to strike, if the brothers wouldn't see them coming.

He let the light go out.

He wasn't strong enough. He couldn't keep going with his magic ripped to pieces. He needed to stop using it to give it some time to rebuild itself. The thought alone, that maybe he shouldn't stop making the light, was nearly enough to drive him mad with desperation. He couldn't bring himself to care for reasons anymore. All he knew was that he couldn't torture himself any longer.

He rested his head on his knees, afraid that he would fall asleep if he lied down on his back.

The darkness surprised Thor, but he could guess why Loki felt like dropping the light after he himself had dropped Mjölnir. He moved over to where he had seen Loki sitting before and sat down as well. He wondered if he could lie down, but there still could be some surviving enemies, even though he prayed there weren't.

He felt like he should say something. The only words that came to him were: "We won." And somehow it didn't sound anything like how victory should be announced.

"Yeah," agreed Loki in the same empty tone, that didn't show any joy, only silent wonder.

"Kiss me," whispered Thor into the darkness.

Loki didn't need to be told twice. Thor's hand found his in the dark. They carefully moved closer, like a pair of blind men, looking with their fingertips. Thor's hands rested on Loki's cheekbones and gently brought him closer, the hot puffs of their breath guiding them towards one another's mouth.

"Let's celebrate out victory," murmured Thor, as their lips merged together. Neither of them had enough strength for deep and passionate kissing. The kiss was short and gentle like a brush of a feather. It tasted of blood, but it was still the sweetest thing in the world to both of them.

They stayed close, Thor holding Loki and Loki's fingers gently dancing across his skin. He felt something wet, as his fingers brushed over Thor's arms and when he came over rough and uneven skin, Thor hissed in pain. Not all of his wounds had healed yet, though they had started to as the power returned to his tired body.

Thor's natural regeneration was clearly much smarter than Loki's magic spells. When it was running short on energy, it stopped bothering with the superficial wounds and focused only on the deep ones, choosing what to heal to keep itself alive as long as possible. His magic could never be bent in such a way, only ever doing the one thing it was designed to do, no matter the cost. Such a clear disadvantage left him with the reminder that Thor was the ideal and he was the faker.

"I'm sorry," he said from a sudden impulse. "I should make light but I can't. If they attack us... I'm sorry."

"I doubt they will attack us now," responded Thor soothingly but Loki wasn't sure if he meant it or if he was just trying to comfort him. "The brave ones had already satisfied their anger. The rest must be long gone now."

"They could be just waiting to attack us when we can't see them. And I'm giving them the perfect opportunity to," pointed out Loki.

"But they aren't taking it, are they? I'm fairly sure that they are done with us," argued Thor, a gentle smile on his face clear from his tone. His fingers gently brushed Loki's cheek. "Loki, it's okay."

Loki sighed. Thor said the last words only to calm him down, to let him know that he was allowed to rest and that Thor didn't blame him for his flaws. It startled Loki that Thor somehow knew that this was exactly what he wanted to hear even though Loki himself hadn't known that until he heard the words. It made him feel warm inside and almost ridiculously grateful.

He was used to being part of a group of adventurers with an assigned role. If he failed to fulfill his role's expectations, everyone complained and criticized him and demanded that he did what he should. And that was true not only about the Warriors Three and Sif, whose relationship with him was always an icy one, but of Thor as well. He told himself that it made sense and that they had a good reason to act that way towards him. When he put on the mask of independence, it made sense that he was expected to act it out. Now, when he let the mask slip and Thor saw him for who he was, he could fail and be forgiven for it. Accepted that way. He still tried to convince himself that it shouldn't please him, but it did.

"Why don't you tell me instead what cunning trick did you use to prevent the shockwave from hitting you?" asked Thor in friendly tones. He had noticed how much Loki enjoyed talking about magic when someone showed interest in it, though to his shame Thor himself rarely did.

"Oh, nothing much." Loki welcomed the chance to slip back into his comfort zone. "I teleported straight up into the air and the shockwave passed before I fell down. Turns out, this place has a high ceiling."

"What would happen if it didn't?" asked Thor, the words 'turns out' awakening his suspicion.

"It wouldn't have worked and I'd have gotten hit by the shockwave," answered Loki matter-of-factly. There was a whole study dedicated to the fine rules of teleportation which explained that while a mage wasn't limited in creating a wormhole between any two places of choice, the actual passing though the wormhole was limited by willingness of the chosen environment to pass though the wormhole in return. Air or water was always extremely willing in performing this exchange. However, to teleport inside a rock he would have to somehow force a chunk of the rock to make space for him and move to the place he had been previously occupying. There was no such thing as having to avoid walls while teleporting to avoid staying stuck in them, as so many urban legends mistakenly claimed; the exchange simply wouldn't happen.

"And that was your plan? 'Let's hope it will work'?" Thor was careful to not make it sound like an accusation, keeping his tone light and amused.

Loki chuckled. "Well, yes. Most of my plans are like that, though it may not seem like it. The only thing I had prepared for was that right afterwards I had to recreate the light, which I would loose while teleporting, because there would be survivors." Loki had watched Thor use this skill in battle often enough to know that it was far from perfect.

"Is it hard to create a light?" wondered Thor absent-mindedly.

"No," said Loki. "But under circumstances like these, combined with everything else, it can get madly exhausting. This fight felt like it lasted for hours."

"Yeah, it did." Thor was surprised to suddenly realize that he had completely lost track of time. The fight did seem unbelievably long, but maybe it only seemed to them like that because it had been so hard. Fights rarely lasted more than a couple of minutes. But then, they could hardly be so tired simply because they fought an enemy with a strategy that was harder to defend against. It must have been at least an hour, though he never noticed while he was busy fighting and never thought about it afterwards.

Somehow, it seemed like deep down here in the cave such things as time didn't exist. It felt like they were lost in the deepest abyss of the universe, forgotten by the world. The only sound in the haunting stillness was their breath. And it seemed like maybe, if they closed their eyes, they could stay here forever with only each other for company and nothing would ever dare interrupt their peace.

Loki's head rested on his shoulder. "I could fall asleep in your arms," he murmured.

"I wouldn't stop you," answered Thor in a whisper.

"Don't tempt me," snickered Loki gently. "It's a bad idea."

Thor laughed. A thought flickered though his mind, how bizarre it was to wish to fall asleep in the middle of a battlefield with his brother snuggled up in his arms. It didn't feel wrong exactly, only strange. If someone told him a year ago that he would be seriously considering something so ridiculous, he would laugh in their face.

"Give me a few more minutes and I will make light again," said Loki then, pushing his drowsiness aside. He was far from rested, but since he couldn't sleep, there was no remedy for exhaustion. He had to find a line between catching his breath and letting his muscles grow stiff. He had noticed that the wounds he had previously felt on Thor's arms were gone. He knew he could interpret that as Thor being somewhere close to this line. Their bodies would continue reminding them that they were tired, but they could move without having to fear they will collapse.

Before he moved away from Thor completely, his lips once again searched out Thor's, simply because they could. Eventually he had to forbid himself from delaying any longer. It was hard to overcome his resentment towards the light spell, because he could still remember clearly how much it had hurt before, but when he finally dared reach for his magic, the energy responded without any problems.

When the air above his left palm began to glow, they both had to shield their eyes from it. After their eyes had adjusted, they recognized the stony floor and shattered bodies lying around. They hesitated, both looking around uncertainly.

"Do you –" began to ask Thor.

"No," answered Loki.

Thor laughed and his tone changed to the one usually used when teasing: "Oh, okay. I have been wondering this for a while now. Good to finally know the answer."

Loki shot him a death glare. "You were going to ask if I remember which way to go."

"No!" empathized Thor, over-playing his act to try and make Loki laugh. "I wanted to know if you know any good anecdotes."

Loki snorted and looked away, shaking his head, while Thor beamed at him.

Eventually they simply chose a random direction, hoping to find a tunnel leading upwards. When they found a wall, they continued alongside it. As theirs steps echoed through the empty room, Loki thought he heard sounds that didn't come from them, like claws scrapping against a stony floor. He could only guess that it meant that the wolves were trying to get out of their way after they had asserted their dominance. He tried not to think about how it could just as well be a preparation for an ambush.

When they found an opening leading into a tunnel, Loki increased the intensity of the light to reach walls at both their sides. If there were enemies moving around them, he wanted to be aware of them. As they ascended in silence, Loki remembered how they walked the same path in the company of the traitor and suddenly wondered how Thor felt about it. He told himself he should stay quiet, but his curiosity was too much for him.

"Did we learn something from this experience?" he asked testily.

Thor looked at him with a slightly startled expression, clearly confused. "You sound like one of our old teachers now."

Loki rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about Hemmerli," he clarified.

"Oh," Thor frowned and looked away. "We learned that some friends can't be trusted."

He really didn't learn. Loki had an urge to laugh bitterly. It seemed impossible that something like this would happen to Thor for the first time, considering his nature. Did he always just tell himself that next time will be better?

"We learned that when you help the weak ones, they will betray you. Every single time," he corrected firmly.

"That's not right," objected Thor and his eyes instantly found Loki's. "When you –" He cut off abruptly as understanding dawned on him and his tone softened. "You are angry with me, aren't you? You think I shouldn't have asked you to help him."

Loki didn't respond.

"But I don't regret doing it. It was the right thing to do at the time. I'm disappointed that it had to end this way. I'm sorry you blame me for this. But I wouldn't change the past if I could."

"Thor," Loki had to try hard to keep his voice even. "We almost died. That thing betrayed us and led us into a trap because you insisted we could trust it. Don't you dare tell me that this all means nothing to you."

Thor winced. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm just as angry with Hemmerli as you. All I'm saying is that helping those who need help isn't a mistake. You can't know if they betray you, but it's worth the risk. How else do you make friends than by giving them the benefit of the doubt?"

"Make friends with those who have nothing to gain by our death," responded Loki, his voice acid.

"Weren't you always the one who preferred diplomacy over combat? What happened to that?" wondered Thor.

Loki's eyebrows rose. "This applies to diplomacy. We make sure that our allies know they won't gain anything if they turn on us. Alfheim is in an alliance with Asgard because they live in a fertile realm and conquering our territory wouldn't help them. Instead they trade goods with us, which they wouldn't be able to do if they turned against us. Jotunheim is on hostile terms with Asgard. The Jotuns would gain a lot by leaving that dark cold chunk of rock behind and moving into our land. They aren't interested in trade; all they want is our death. There is no hope for diplomacy, unless someone would change their mind. Someone like their King." He paused. The last words left a bitter taste in his mouth. "So if you go around helping the unfortunate ones you can bet they will always turn on you."

"But this is different," said Thor. "This is more like a trade. I will help them and if they don't betray me, I will continue helping them."

"They don't care," said Loki, raising his voice in frustration. "They are better off betraying you, because that way they can have everything you have. They can't live a life depending on your kindness. They know that they need to be in control over their own life. If their life should depend purely on you, they would turn into a thing for you to deal with however you pleased."

"But if I offer them friendship –" objected Thor.

"Your friendship doesn't guarantee them anything. You could be only faking it for your own purposes. Chances are they wouldn't survive making a mistake. It's safer for them to not trust you. On the other hand, if you are foolish enough to trust them, then of course they are going to use it against you."

"That can't be right. What would it look like if everyone acted this way? There would be no good in the world. There would be no heroes."

"Thor, there aren't. This is a ruthless fight for survival, not a children's fairytale."

A great sadness settled over Thor's features. His voice softened. "How can you be so cold? Do you always tell yourself that there is no good in the world?"

"It's the truth!" argued Loki. He knew he was right, but somehow he felt bad. He didn't want to upset Thor but it flustered him that Thor could be this ignorant about something so obvious.

"And how does that make you feel?"

For a moment Loki hesitated. He had no idea where Thor was going with this. "Why should it make me feel anything? It's just a fact."

"Well, for me, it makes me want to change it," explained Thor. "If there is no good in the world, then so be it. I will bring the good into the world. I will be the hero. I will help those who need it and maybe some of them will feel like repaying the kindness. Maybe I will find others who will agree with my viewpoint and they will help me do what is right. And this way, one by one, we could change the world, spreading kindness and trust and making it a better place."

There was a long silence.

"It doesn't work like that," said Loki, his voice trembling slightly.

Thor smiled at him. "How would you know, if you're not willing to try?"

Loki shook his head, not returning the smile. "I know it doesn't work like that. There would always be those who would abuse your generosity. As long as there would be at least one traitor left in the world, there could never be complete trust among its inhabitants."

"Well, I never said the world has to be perfect," said Thor. "It could just be a little better, a little kinder."

Loki stayed silent. He could tell Thor how unreasonable such a wish was, but what would be the point? Thor didn't care about reason. He followed his dreams. In the end of the day, Loki was left admiring him for it, wishing he could forget all the harsh truths he knew and just dream for a while. If only he was brave enough to dream. If only he didn't fear that the cruel reality will crush his dreams right in front of his eyes. Thor never seemed to have to worry about such things.

Right next to him, Thor felt kind of foolish. Loki obviously knew so much about the world and saw reason and logic in everything, while he only ever acted the way his heart told him to. He didn't regret it, but it still made him feel like he was but a child. Loki always acted so mature. He understood so many things that meant nothing to Thor. Thor always admired it about him and it was also why he always wanted to have Loki by his side if he was to ever become King of Asgard. But then, it was Loki who had seen right through this dream of his and told him that it wasn't as simple as that. If only Thor could make himself stop dreaming long enough to see reality the way Loki did.

A spark of light appeared ahead of them, indicating the end of the tunnel.