Narrators

Loki gladly let his own light fade out at the sight of the cave entrance. The way ascended more steeply closer to the ceiling opening that connected the tunnels with the surface. The sun was in the sky at just the right position to shine straight down into the tunnel. When they entered the direct stream of light, it immediately forced tears to their over-tired eyes. They were trying to move upwards on uneven ground, blinded by sunlight and completely exhausted.

Anyone who knew anything about combat would realize that this was the perfect place and time for an ambush. They both reached the same conclusion and exchanged a quick glance, but then made their way upwards all the same. Even while being aware of it like this, there was hardly anything they could do other than prepare their weapons and hope the ambush won't occur. After all, with the wolves leaving them alone for so long, it was just as likely that they had lost all desire for combat.

Then they passed some unsaid border and a shadow momentarily covered the sunlight as a dark-furred canine jumped straight at their heads, going for their throats. Loki raised Sannindi, his mind instantly calculating the right angle...

But at the same time, Thor reached out, grabbed his left wrist and pulled, causing him to stumble out of the wolf's way and fall behind Thor.

"What are you doing?!" shouted Loki. He was startled by this sudden unexpected movement and even slightly embarrassed at being misbalanced so easily.

The entrance was filled with silhouettes of wolves, looking imperiously down at their prey. Not too quick to leave their upper position, they seemed rather hesitant after the first attacker's failure, though one could hardly tell from their hostile stances with fangs and claws ready.

"We're getting out of here," answered Thor, his voice determined. Only his ragged breath suggested any trace of exhaustion at all. He began spinning Mjölnir rapidly with his one hand, while the other wrapped around Loki's hips, bringing him closer to Thor's chest.

If he had more time and if this didn't appear to look like the only way out at the moment, Loki would love to object. Aside from the fact how much he generally hated being carried, clinging to Thor in midair was rather uncomfortable and insecure.

But then it was already too late, as Mjölnir shot forward and the ground disappeared under their feet. Loki closed his eyes tightly and tried to make himself as small as possible, his fingertips digging painfully into Thor's chest piece to find support. They rushed through the mass of bodies standing between them and the outside world. Some of the braver wolves snapped at them, but none was fast enough to actually hurt them. Then they were in the open air and continued to ascend to avoid the walls of the old castle structure that the whole underground lair belonged to.

Thor couldn't help but smile. He had missed the feeling of being in control during the whole preceding battle. His whole body ached with fatigue but now it was a good pain, the sort of pain that came after a won battle. There was a part of him that felt ashamed that they ran instead of finishing the fight, but considering all they've been though during the time – were it an hour or a couple of them – at this point, plain survival qualified as victory.

He rose up far higher into the air than was necessary, to get a good view of the whole ruins, the forest and their destination far off in the distance. He turned towards it and started slowly descending until he was flying right above the tree tops. He continued like that for some time, knowing he can shorten the distance they would otherwise have to walk. Then, when he found a small opening between the trees, he slipped in under the branches.

While landing he moved purely from muscle memory to keep himself on his feet. He had done it so many times before he hardly though about it. As his feet hit the ground, he felt Loki slipping from his grasp, his body still carrying the momentum. Quickly, as panic filled him, he tightened his grip and his fingers nearly deformed Loki's metal armor, anything to keep him from falling on the ground.

"Sorry," he murmured into his ear, when Loki finally found his footing and shifted to get away from his pressing fingers.

"You should be," replied Loki, but it sounded half-hearted. He didn't step away, even after they stilled completely. Instead, he lingered in Thor's embrace, letting his arms hang loosely around Thor's neck.

Thor didn't mind in the slightest. He let Mjölnir drop to the ground and then hugged Loki with both arms.

"The thing I said before, about falling asleep in your arms," said Loki in a low voice. "It's happening again."

Thor chuckled softly. "My answer still stands."

Loki groaned. "You should tell me I can't. It would be a waste of daylight to sleep now."

"But if we encountered any enemies on our way, we could hardly face them like this," reasoned Thor. At this point, he was sick of the endless pain in his muscles. In comparison to long, mind-numbing walking, the prospect of sleep seemed undeniably pleasant.

"You could just carry me off again," said Loki, even though he didn't believe his own words. He argued simply because he felt he should, knowing full well, as his eyes slid shut, that he was fighting a lost battle.

"I'd rather not," said Thor.

Loki's eyes fluttered open. It was so easy to forget that Thor was just as tired as he was. "Well, we would just have to be careful then..."

Once again Thor laughed gently. "Aren't we always?"

The two of them really couldn't keep themselves out of trouble. Loki sighed and admitted his defeat. "Alright, let's call it a day."

Slowly, Loki's arms slid from Thor's shoulders, and Thor loosened his grip on Loki's hips. For a second they stood there, face to face, reluctant to move away. They both knew they should start taking off their armor so they could finally lie down. But then Loki's fingers darted forward, found the straps that held Thor's armor in place and began loosing them, instead of his own. Thor smiled and a moment later his own fingers were touching Loki's body in playful search for a way to help him undress.

Their clothes were torn in some places from the battle but they hardly paid any attention to it, because they had long since gotten used to it. Ragged and dirty clothes simply belonged to adventuring in the wilds. Their legs had begun to hurt from uselessly standing around, so as they were stripping off their chest pieces, they slowly dropped down to their knees. Then all the armor was gone and their fingers hesitated on the remaining layer of leather clothing, yearning for the skin underneath, but knowing at the same time that this wasn't the right moment.

To break the uncertainty, Thor leaned forward and kissed Loki. Then they slowly eased themselves down on the ground, never once breaking the intimate closeness between them. It felt warm and safe to be so near each other. The sunlight was dimmed by the tree branches above their heads just enough to not bother them, as they closed their eyes and finally allowed themselves a well-deserved rest. Their exhaustion making them fall fast asleep, they slept throughout the rest of the day.

They were in Jotunheim. They didn't have their weapons, but so far no one has attacked them. The Frost Giants were standing here and there, every one of them looking up towards their king.

Laufey's blood-red eyes found Loki and Thor and an ugly smile played across his face. He stepped forward. Thor shifted uneasily, exchanging looks with Loki. As Laufey slowly drew closer, ice created a spiked maul out of his arm. His intention to kill them both right then and there showed clearly in his eyes.

Loki reached for one of his smaller spare daggers and, as he drew it from its sheath on his thigh, cut his own hand. He never cut himself with his own weapons, but this time he did. Before he could think about how strange it was his attention was drawn back towards Laufey.

The King had stopped to stare at a wound that had formed at his own hand, completely identical to Loki's.

His hand trembling, Loki slowly lifted his dagger and cut himself again on purpose. He barely registered the pain from the injury, fully focused on what was happening. This time, he could watch as a scar appeared on Laufey's arm and blue blood started leaking through.

Thor looked between him and their enemy. "You can hurt him," he said and there was some strange calculating undertone in his voice. Loki didn't like the way it sounded.

Laufey looked at Loki, his dark red eyes narrowing.

"You could kill him," said Thor. He sounded hopeful and somehow Loki couldn't blame him for it, despite how much it hurt. Some small part of his mind, the same part that had insisted that he would never cut himself with his own weapon, told him that Thor would never ask him to do something like this, but just like before, it was ignored.

"He would have to kill himself. You know he won't do that," said Laufey in grim, cold voice. "He is far too selfish for that."

Loki stayed where he was, frozen in place. He couldn't make a choice like that.

"We can't miss the opportunity," insisted Thor.

"He'd rather watch you die than sacrifice himself." Laufey sounded as if he was only having a casual conversation with Thor. "He is of my blood after all."

Loki felt the cold metal of the dagger as he lifted it to his own throat. When his eyes flickered sideways, he saw Thor nodding at him encouragingly.

"Our enemies must die," reminded him his older brother, even though Loki wasn't sure if he actually said it, or if he heard the words only in his mind. And he knew that Thor was right.

Thor's enemies had to die. And Loki knew then, as he readied to slit his own throat, that this meant not only Laufey but him as well. He was Thor's enemy.

Loki woke up, blinking away a dream. At first, he felt sick, but the memory quickly slipped from his mind, leaving him only with a strange vague feeling of uneasiness. He knew the dream wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't as bad as the nightmares he had during the nights that followed right up after he discovered his true origin, when he would wake up terrified, feeling lost and cold and always cried himself back to sleep afterwards.

The growing lack of screaming and crying could be considered a good sign. Loki told himself that it was. He was simply getting over the shock.

But it felt like a blatant lie. If he wasn't bothered by it anymore, if he grew to accept it, it couldn't mean anything good. It meant he was giving in. The boundaries would blur and he would loose himself.

Only that was a lie as well. He was already lost. There wasn't a line between Loki and the Frost Giant, he knew there could never be. It was all him. And yet...

As long as he'd never stop regretting being a monster, as long as he would keep on hating the Frost Giants, including himself, he was Loki. Not a monster. A monster would be incapable of perceiving itself as evil, he told himself. Loki, being good, was defined by his hatred for evil, the Frost Giant.

Because what was good other than the force that opposed evil?

"Deep in thought I see," came Thor's voice.

Loki startled, his rationality missing a beat in reminding him that Thor can't read his mind. Only then he started actually pay attention to his surroundings. The forest was silent and dark around them and between the branches they could see the dark sky above. Thor was lying on one side, supporting his head with one arm and watching Loki with a playful smile.

"Are you going to lie if I ask you what were you thinking about?" It was a tease, not an accusation.

"Yes," answered Loki with a mischievous smile. As long as they were joking, he could dare answer this way. Otherwise he would just deny it and then lie. All it would take was the right amount of emotion to play across his face while answering and Thor would believe him.

"Pity," said Thor. He understood there were things Loki wasn't going to openly talk to him about. He only hoped that one day he would.

Stars appeared in the sky above them as it grew darker. It couldn't have been long past the sunset, but already the dark was deep enough to strain their sight. Among the trees where the starlight couldn't reach the darkness was absolute.

"I should create some light, shouldn't I?" said Loki with a sigh. Since he wasn't tired anymore, the spell wouldn't hurt him, but that didn't prevent him from feeling rather annoyed at having to use it. He knew that holding his palm upwards would quickly get uncomfortable and since there wouldn't be any battle to distract his attention from it...

"Maybe we don't need any light," suggested Thor.

Loki eyed him with suspicion. "Really?"

Thor shrugged. "Maybe we could just relax for a while. We don't have to keep walking if the circumstances aren't working for us."

"We knew that if we go to sleep during the day, we will be awake during the night," objected Loki.

"So? What matters is that we don't feel like walking right now, doesn't it?"

Why was he suddenly so determined that they shouldn't continue on their journey? Considering that he had previously insisted that they should rest right away heedless of the consequences, he must have known it would end this way.

"Was this some kind of plan of yours?" asked Loki with a grin. It felt strange; considering it might have been the first time he wasn't at the receiving end of the question.

"Sure, the 'Let's hope it will work' kind," joked Thor before turning serious. "No, I didn't plan anything. I just heard the exasperation in your voice when you spoke about the light and decided that you deserve to be spared the pain."

Loki found himself completely baffled by such logic. He expected schemes and instead found only sincere care. He had projected his own way of reasoning when trying to follow Thor's trail of thought and thus completely failed. Small mistakes like this served to remind him that he might not be as good at predicting others as he liked to think.

"The light spell really isn't hard," he insisted weakly. "We don't have to waste time waiting for the sun to rise; I can create light if we need it."

"I'm saying we don't," repeated Thor and his smile seemed to shine in the dark, its warmth easily reaching Loki's heart. He rolled over, supporting himself on his arms, as he leaned over Loki, who reached up and brushed aside a strand of hair that had slid in his face. For a short while they stilled like that, looking at each other fondly, simply content with being able to spend the moment together. Thor marveled at how pale Loki's skin looked under the starlight and how dark his lips and eyes seemed in comparison.

Then Loki's lips curved into a grin and he spoke: "And I'm saying that eventually you'll grow so bored that you'll beg me to create the light so we can set on your way."

"I'm not the one to beg," said Thor with a wolfish smile.

Loki's only answer was to return the smile. He couldn't argue with that. Slowly Thor moved closer, smiling softly when their lips brushed and gently nipped at Loki's bottom lip. Loki once again reached up and ran his fingers through Thor's hair, tucking it fondly behind his ears.

Then they kissed, their tongues met as they deepened the kiss hungrily, brushing and caressing, feeding their passion. When Thor tried to withdraw, Loki held him in place, forcing them to gasp for breath mere inches apart.

"Pushy, are we," murmured Thor against his lips before obeying and resuming the kiss.

Thor was lying on his back, staring up at the starlit sky, holding Loki in a one-arm embrace, with Loki's head resting on his shoulder. They had lost track of time and there was no moon in the sky to give them at least an approximate idea of how long they spent cuddling and kissing.

"Do you see the stars?" whispered Thor.

Loki shifted slightly, to get a good view of the sky as well. Thousands of tiny white dots shone in the night sky far and high above them, like pearls on black sateen.

"No, I don't," said Loki. "Stars are only myth; made up by dreamers."

It took a moment and Loki's grin to convince Thor that he was joking. Then Thor made a face at him and Loki smiled innocently in response.

For a while they lay silently. Loki was just about to go ahead and bury his face in the curve of Thor's neck when Thor made him look up at the sky again.

"See the small groupings of stars there on the left," he pointed up. "Lined up like that, they look like Mjölnir."

"I think that's Hidden Keep, actually," corrected Loki in amused tone. "Don't try to name these stars; the Vanir astrologists are millennia ahead of you."

Thor eyed him from the corner of his eye. "Don't tell me you actually remember that." Their childhood lessons in astrology were brief, just to give them some general knowledge and idea of the basics. Not even their teachers seemed to take the lessons too seriously. To actually know things like this Loki must have read some literature on the subject but Thor couldn't imagine why he would bother...

"Don't give me that look," said Loki with a smile. "I happen to remember this constellation because there's a Vanir legend connected to it."

Thor's eyes lit up. "Tell me," he asked simply.

Loki hesitated. "It's bit of a silly story. And you might have heard it before."

"Doesn't matter. We love listening to stories, old or new, don't we?" There was one thing they could never grow out of and that was stories. Were it the fairytales their mother or various babysitters read to them when they were young, or some drunk adventurer making up mad twists and plots to make his experiences far more interesting than they actually were, tales were part of their lives.

"We do," agreed Loki. They could difference in any number of ways but the art of storytelling was one thing they could share their love for.

"And I find myself growing fond of listening to your voice," said Thor casually.

Loki looked away bashfully. He couldn't get used to Thor complimenting him so openly. Rather than try to think of a response, he began with the story: "There was once an evil sorcerer who tormented the Vanir kingdom. He did what he liked, sometimes poisoned the water, sometimes destroyed their crop. He didn't care that they were dying. None could oppose him, because the warlock created a powerful spell to shield himself. If he was attacked by someone who had a loved one in this world, someone who had family, their loved ones suffered instead of the warlock. In the whole land there was but one warrior who could face him, because he had lost his family and never found a lover."

"But he was a loner and didn't want to get involved?" guessed Thor, absorbed in the story.

"No," laughed Loki. "He was willing enough. He challenged the warlock and fought with him. The battle was long and terrible, but eventually the warrior won. With his last breath, the warlock cursed him, telling him that if the warrior should ever find happiness, death will release him and he should once again rule the Vanir. The hero disregarded the treat and instead engaged in celebrations with the Vanir. But as it happened, he did find happiness during the celebration when his eyes and later his hands settled on a beautiful maiden. Word travelled fast and soon even Hel, death itself, knew what has happened. So she made haste and visited the warrior and his love in the night to warn them that in the morning the warlock shall rise from his grave."

"She visited them at night?" grinned Thor. "Did she wake them up?" His tone clearly suggested he thought not.

Loki rolled his eyes. "No, they were laying awake, telling stories to each other."

"Ah, lucky them," commented Thor, his eyes shining with laughter. "What happened then?"

"The warrior asked Hel what should they do, but she couldn't help them. She only warned him that if he tries to fight the warlock the spell will hurt his love and there's no place on earth where he could hide her to keep her safe. That gave the warrior an idea. He bought a black horse, seated his love upon it enshrouded in a black coat and told her to hide in the night sky. It wouldn't be on earth, so the warlock wouldn't find her. 'If I do,' said his love, 'how does anyone ever find me again? How do you find me?' But the sun was already rising, so he didn't respond, only spurred the horse and sent her off. The warlock came and the warrior faced him. The warlock thought his spell would keep him safe but because the warrior's love was no longer on earth, the spell didn't work. And because he had no other means of defense, he lost again, this time without a chance of return."

"Servers him right," murmured Thor, half in joke. It has been centuries since he would shout the very same words with childish enthusiasm at the end of their mother's fairy tale.

Loki paused to grin at him before continuing. "While the maiden was escaping across the night sky, she tried to mark her way with droplets of light. But scared as she was that her love will never find her, she overdid it a little." He waved up towards the star-filled sky. "Eventually she settled in the Keep. See? What you thought was a hammer was actually a gate. The long line of stars that you imagined was the hammer's handle is a road leading up to the gates. There she waited for her lover to find her. But with her markings filling up the whole sky, he never found the way. They say that to this day he wanders across the skies, searching for the Keep and the happiness he gave up in order to save the Vanir."

Silence settled upon them. Thor was staring up at the stars, probably imagining the lost maiden and searching warrior. "I hope they find each other one day," he sighed, smiling softly.

Loki hummed in thought. "There are Vanir who would disagree. The warrior's misery is what kept Vanir safe and alive. No one is too eager to allow him to be happy."

"What?" Thor frowned. "But why?"

"I suppose that is just part of the moral," said Loki. "If the hero gave something up for the good of the nation, he should never be allowed to get it back because that would belittle his sacrifice. Eternal torment is so much more motivating than a few unfortunate years before everything got better."

"It seems rather de-motivational to me. It must scare any other warriors from doing anything heroic," reasoned Thor.

Loki's eyebrows rose. "It is made to motivate the masses, not heroes. It gives the nation a feeling of self-importance if they know that their savior endured endless suffering just for them. The worse the torment of their hero, the more the nation is worth."

Thor gave him a skeptical look. "That doesn't make much sense, does it?"

"You're saying that now?" snorted Loki. "How come the dark horse could run across the sky? They say the warrior bought it. Who sells flying horses and how much are they worth? And where did the maiden get droplets of light to mark her path with?" He turned away from Thor and towards the dark forest. "You didn't bat an eye when I laid these facts in front of you, because they were part of a story. It works very much the same way with in real life. It doesn't really make sense but that's the way the story is told."

Thor shook his head. "But there's nothing dishonorable about finding his love once the fight is done. People would still tell this legend and there would still be a hero who decided to fight for them. If he fled from the middle of a battle because he would desire to see her again, then he would leave a stain on the honor of the realm. But this way, if he fought until the end, he deserves the happiness and continued torment seems just unnecessarily cruel and plain useless."

Loki stayed quiet for a while. Thor was beginning to think that he just didn't want to admit that he was wrong, but then Loki turned back to look at him with a bitter smile that lacked all warmth or happiness.

"Say," purred Loki in dangerous tones, "have you ever wondered why Odin wears an eye-patch? Our healers are so competent and our magic so advanced. I'm not saying that replacing an eye or creating a spell that can serve in its place wouldn't be hard and require professionals, probably even from other realms besides Asgard, but he's our King, so out of all people he should be the one to receive the utmost care, don't you think?"

Thor immediately knew he didn't like the way this was going. "He probably just didn't want to bother. True warriors are proud of their scars," he responded carefully.

"That's not it and you know it," hissed Loki. "It's a sacrifice. People need to see that their sovereign suffered for them and will forever bear the consequences. He could get his eye back, but he won't, despite how impractical, uncomfortable and absurd it is. You must have noticed that the war with Jotunheim has had a big influence on Asgard's sense of greatness."

Of course Thor had noticed. It was one of the most re-visited chapters of history, one their teachers seemed to never get enough of. And it was true that no one ever forgot to mention their father's bravery.

"Are you telling me that father lost his eye and decided that it will send a great message to his people if he doesn't get it replaced? Why would he think that way? Things happen and we deal with them however we can; what people think about it has nothing to do with it."

"It has everything to do with it. Do you think nobody ever does things to influence the way others think about them?" It seemed almost ridiculous that the world should rest so heavily on what everyone thought. But the history books, filled with gruesome fates of those who tried to go against the stream, didn't lie.

"This is different. He lost an eye! Motivating someone must have been the least of his concerns," insisted Thor.

"Oh, of course," Loki's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "His primary concern at the time was to secure his dominance over the Jotuns, which is why stealing me took priority over getting his injuries treated by healers."

Thor made a frustrated sound, something between a sigh and a groan.

"A thorough King never stops considering how will each any every one of his steps influence the realm," added Loki quietly. "Every life is a story. The trick is to be the narrator."

Thor sat up and turned to look at Loki. "Alright, stop it. What is this? A list of reasons why I'm never going to excel as a King? Because I'm not thorough enough?"

Loki withdrew slightly, as he too sat up and pulled up one of his legs to his chest. He shortly rested his chin on his knee, considering his answer, before speaking up. "I was merely pointing out to you how important sacrifice can be for the good of a nation and how a smart man can use it to secure his position of power."

Thor snorted. "A smart man?"

"A King who wants to make overthrowing him as hard as possible."

"That's father?" Thor raised his eyebrows and waited until Loki shrugged before continuing. "What if, instead of refusing to get my injuries healed, I just ruled kindly and wisely to make sure my people will respect and honor me?"

Loki had to smile at Thor's logic. "People forget things they don't see. Do you remember that ridiculous story that Odin gave up his eye to drink from a well of wisdom? Everyone knows he lost his eye in battle and yet some peasants thought it would be more interesting if told this way. The story spread and even though it makes absolutely no sense, people look up, see Odin with his eye-patch and think 'Ah, he's wise!'. No public speech that Odin could ever give would convince the filthy morons of the same."

Thor chuckled. "So maybe people can be easily influenced by gossip. They can still tell a difference between a good King and a tyrant. If I listen to their problems, care for them and do everything in my power to help them, they won't have a reason to wish to overthrow me."

Loki sighed. "I'm not criticizing you. You're going to be a great King. You already have great influence on people around you just being the way you are – charismatic, optimistic, brave... you know. People adore that and it's hard to betray a King that everyone loves. It's not the best way of establishing your position, it doesn't give you nearly enough control, but it's sufficient. I know you're not going to turn into Odin the Second."

Thor smiled at the praise even though Loki didn't make it sound like a compliment, instead sounding as if he was providing possible solutions for a theoretical problem in their strategy class. Then the meaning of Loki's last words occurred to him and Thor shook his head in disbelief. "I'm so confused."

Loki frowned. "What about?"

"It's just that..." Thor hesitated. He was reasonably wary when it came to Loki's feelings, but if he didn't ask, it would just bother him for the rest of the night. "I thought you were angry at father. I even kind of feared you hated him. Yet you seem to be singing praises to him with every word. You say he's smart. You say his kind of rule is the best one. You just used him as an example of perfection. You still respect him, don't you?"

As he spoke, he moved closer so he could reach out and take Loki's hand. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to do it. Perhaps some small part of him was scared that if he hits a sensitive spot, Loki will turn away from him in an attempt to escape, as he did so many times before.

Loki didn't move away and calmly let his hand be taken. He realized that Thor thought he just called him out on one of his lies, found a way to break his shell, only... He didn't. Loki wasn't lying about Odin and the realization that Thor thought he did was what really hurt him. He knew he didn't manage to drag Thor on his side the last time they talked about the Allfather, but he had thought that Thor took at least some of it seriously. Now though, as he saw the hope in Thor's eyes, he had to acknowledge that to ever get Thor on his side, he's going to have to try much harder.

"Only an idiot wouldn't respect such authority," he said. "That doesn't mean I like him. I say he's smart because he is, not because I wish to flatter him. He knows exactly what to do to make everything work for him and his amount of control makes it nearly impossible to turn against him. Objectively, from a purely theoretical point of view, it's undeniably the best way of ruling a kingdom." He chuckled humorlessly. "But you can't honestly think I appreciate it about him when I'm trying to rebel against him."

As he was speaking, Thor's expression changed from uncertainty to confusion, but eventually it settled on thoughtful frown. This wasn't at all what he'd expected. Loki was clearly bitter, he said he didn't like Odin, but he also never stated that he hated him. Instead what he said opened up a flood of memories in Thor's mind that made it hard to stay grim.

"You think father has control?" he said with a smirk. "How about that time when I refused to go to the ball so we went hunting instead and then rode into the ballroom on our horses? How about the time when father fell asleep, we stole his spear and nearly wiped out Jarl Bjorn's house? How about when we, after a few drinks, got the brilliant idea to take one of the flying boats and, just for fun, try to zigzag between the palace towers?"

"I meant political control," objected Loki but couldn't help but laugh anyway. The memories immediately filled him with warmth. The past was wonderful, when they were young and unrestrained. It was almost unbelievable that they had spent nearly every day together and still never tired of each other's company or ran out of ideas what to do.

And if he was someone else, perhaps if he was Loki Odinson, the second son of Asgard, they could have stayed that way. But he wasn't and they couldn't. His discovery a few weeks back had changed everything but it seemed that things were leading up to it for a long time before that. Ever since he first tried to subtly meddle in the politics, Odin has never turned his eye away from him, all too aware that Loki was getting far too comfortable in Asgard where he didn't belong.

"We've been rebelling against father for as long as I can remember," said Thor. Loki's laughter helped him relax, telling him that everything was still fine and gave him courage to press further. "Why would you ever think that would change?"

Loki looked at him with uncertainty. "What are you saying?"

"As long as there's someone rebelling against father, it's always us, never just you. I don't believe father would ever do anything to try and separate us, but if he did, you can be sure that I'd be the first one to defy him."

The warm fuzzy feeling in his chest caused by Thor's words unfortunately wasn't enough to dim out sparks of frustration. Even after all the explanations, Thor still refused to think rationally about what Loki was telling him.

"There would be nothing we could do –" he began.

"There's always something we can do," Thor cut him off, putting a finger over Loki's lips.

Loki looked up to him, stars reflecting in his eyes and when their eyes met, Thor saw his confidence slipping away, leaving him looking timid and unsure. His heart swelled, his fingers moved from Loki's lips to his cheek and he leaned in to kiss him. Loki's lips met his with passion strengthened by Loki's desperate wish he could somehow enter Thor's hopeful dream of finding a way.

When they embraced, their fingers sought out places where their clothes had been torn in the battle and stilled there, brushing against the skin. Gradually, Loki relaxed in his arms, allowing Thor to hold him, until they ended up lying on the ground again.

Only after a while did the starlit sky recapture their attention.

"It's your turn to tell a story now," remarked Loki and playfully bit Thor's ear.

Note: In case you were wondering, I made up the Vanir legend that Loki was narrating.

On the other hand, the story about Odin exchanging his eye for wisdom is part of the actual myths.