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Darkness, in its many shades, was a familiar companion to Loki. Even when he might wish to spurn it, even when it was forced upon him, Loki had a home amongst the shadows. Long gone were the days of his childhood when he found the darkness strange and terrifying. Now it was where he belonged, it was light that was uncomfortable and cloying. And the brightest light he knew, the one which burned him most fiercely, was embodied in his would-be brother; in Thor.
Or so it had been until Loki snuffed out the light with his own hands, so to speak.
Thor had stood before the Destroyer as he offered himself up with a too-late apology. Loki no longer wanted for apologies, he did not want Thor’s half-hearted attempts at nobility and ignorantly offered reconciliation. He did not see a brother when he saw Thor or the boy who shared his childhood bed and held Loki warmly through his nightmares. Loki did not feel the warm palm clasped against his neck in a familiar physical refrain. He did not hear the voice of a man who had fought alongside him so long.
All Loki felt was rage and a terrible emptiness that swallowed him from the inside out. His entire life had been reduced to nothing. Everything he believed he had was a lie. All that he had known of himself was false. His place was a fiction crafted by a cunning king.
And there was Thor. The son of Odin in blood, the heir of Asgard, the chosen of Mjolnir, the one cheered as the Golden Prince. He had not been born to be discarded. Thor had been wanted from his very conception and never would be otherwise. He had no need to see shadows, no regard for those he cast, and no gratitude for the many gifts he squandered. Darkness was a companion to Loki but Loki was a companion to Thor, to the light. So he saw more clearly than anyone what the blinding brilliance concealed.
Thor was born to have everything while Loki was born to have nothing, not even his own life.
Loki had been loyal, Loki had been faithful, he had labored under the delusion of brotherhood to a brother who treated Loki as an inferior. The situation had stung, but they were brothers after all.
But that too was a lie; all of it was a lie.
Loki refused to have his fate dictated to him and an opportunity had fallen so sweetly into his lap to make the tapestry of his existence anew. He would push Thor from his golden pedestal, he would take the everything and leave Thor with the nothing. Loki would claw his way into the light and show them all what Thor’s false brilliance had kept hidden.
Thor was not his brother. He was a stitching of bad qualities and destruction in godly form. Thor was unruly and disordered, unworthy of all that he held. And such a being, such a flawed creation, did not deserve a kingship. He did not deserve the heaps of praise and adulation he received simply for being.
And besides, Loki knew the likely result if Thor should return: he would seek Loki’s death or drive him further to the shadows. What other outcome could there be?
The hollowness in his chest gnawed at his insides and demanded satisfaction.
The man Loki had called brother had done only ill to the man Loki had believed himself to be.
Loki owed him nothing. And that is what he would give his false brother.
Loki bade the Destroyer to attack and he watched Thor be tossed aside as an insect before a god. He had done it. Loki had bested the Mighty Thor and now all that was left was for Loki to proceed without the greatest obstacle to his success. He watched the mortal woman weep over Thor and a terrible smile curved his lips. Loki was free, there was no longer a light to cast him into the shadows…Loki could learn to live in the light. He deserved it.
--
Jotunheim fell to the Bifrost and Loki felt a rush of triumph with a giddy thrill. But too quickly it faded back into numbness, too quickly the hollow ache that had been growing with him seemed ever more insatiable. Loki had won, so why did he still feel so very empty?
His mother wept to hear what he had done and it occurred to him for the first time the ramifications of what it meant to kill the being known as ‘Thor’. Frigga did not know Thor as Loki did, she did not understand. She believed that Loki had killed her firstborn son. But Thor had never been a worthy son at all, could she not see? Loki was her true son, the one who should have shared her blood but for a cruel trick of the Norns. But perhaps this was all necessary. Perhaps to fulfill his glorious purpose Loki had needed to be forged in ice and darkness.
Still, he supposed he should fetch his mother the body. The vessel for all the poor weavings that had once been known as Thor Odinson.
--
Loki went to the room where the body lay after its arrival. Four days had passed on Midgard and they had not been kind to the vessel. The healthy glow was gone, the skin seemed almost translucently pale, and that was to say nothing of the smell. A rotten vessel for a rotten core.
Then his mother came and he prepared himself to comfort her. He was taken aback when his attempt to touch her was rebuffed. The look she gave him was one Loki had never been given by his mother before.
“Mother?”
“Leave me.” Frigga said hoarsely but with a queenly curtness, ingrained after countless centuries of rule.
“I would offer you comfort-"
“-You have done enough.” Frigga snapped and Loki blinked before he obliged.
His mother was in a state of grief, that was all. She would see soon when she witnessed Loki as the bearer of Asgard’s light, they would all see.
--
Loki roamed the halls of Asgard and found them more silent than he could ever remember them being. But well, they were mourning their false prince. Perhaps that was to be expected. He for one found it a pleasant change from the boisterous hustle and bustle that so often followed Thor.
He made his way back to the room when he was sure his mother had gone as Loki respected her need for space. She had appearances to keep up as well, even if she might have started to understand.
The body looked different and Loki realized his mother had prepared it. She had tenderly fixed Thor’s hair about his face and must have used magic to conjure Asgardian clothing on his person. The smell was gone as well, but there was nothing to be done about the sallow look of him. There was no light from Thor, now it was he who was in darkness. Thor would be the silent one, the shadowed one, the forgotten one.
Loki smiled down at the face that served as mask to the one who had caused Loki so much misery. “I have won. And you have lost.” he told it.
But still, the emptiness did not ease and the hollowness had grown to be a chasm inside of him. What was he missing? When would it be enough?
Perhaps when his Father awoke and praised Loki for his deeds well done. When Odin Allfather acknowledged the error he’d made in wasting his time and love on so unworthy a son as Thor.
Loki slept as a king and conqueror. He was secure in the knowledge that his victory was assured.
But he did not sleep well.
He dreamed of Thor and in the dream his false brother would not speak. Loki supposed Thor was ashamed of himself. The trickster said as much and Thor merely stared at him with a look that Loki could not read. He was unaccustomed to finding any expression of Thor’s a mystery.
“What is it?” Loki finally snapped. “I have beaten you, Thor. I have won. And you, you will never hold me back again.”
The Thor in his dreams approached and Loki took an unconscious step back before he realized he no longer had to be intimidated by the likes of him. Loki stood his ground imperiously as he waited for Thor to rage or make an attempt to strike. He was confused when Thor brought his palm to Loki’s neck only for it to pass through: Thor was intangible.
The inscrutable expression on Thor’s face became unbearably sad.
“It’s too late.” Loki said. “You are already dead. You have lost your chance to make amends.” He was surprised when Thor shook his head. “Do you not know you are dead?” Loki asked scornfully.
Thor stared for a long moment before he pointed a finger at Loki’s chest whereabouts his heart should be. And still, he looked so sad.
Loki awoke with a gasp and the cool wetness of tears on his cheeks. And of course it could only be his imagination that he felt the faint trace of a palm upon his neck.
--
The funeral was to be held that day and Loki prepared himself in king’s regalia. He would burn what was left of Thor and scatter his ashes to the universe. Far, far from Loki and his shining future.
He admired his reflection in the mirror as he slipped his golden helm onto his head.
“Really, cow?"
Loki whirled around with sharp inhale but there was no one there. And of course there would not be. Thor was dead and gone, Loki remained.
He looked back at his reflection and was startled when he saw not Loki the king and man, but Loki the boy.
The pale face stared back at him reproachfully.
“What is this?” Loki breathed before he laughed. “Some petty prank, perhaps? One of Thor’s sycophants who blames me for his fate? A cursed mirror?” he chuckled.
Loki-the-boy’s eyes narrowed with a look of disgust that Loki could not recall ever making at that age. The disdain in the boy was palpable as his lip curled and he pointed towards Loki.
The sight unnerved him and the older Loki finally demanded. “What? What do you want?”
The clothing the boy wore was dyed in shades of green but at the question, all of the green bled into a familiar red. The boy clenched his hand over his chest, roughly where his heart should be, and glared at Loki with an unspoken accusation.
Then the reflection was Loki’s reflection again, save for the fist-sized hole in his chest. He gasped as his hand went to his chest in surprise and horror only to realize the image was false. When he looked back at his reflection, all was well.
All was well.
--
Loki went to see Odin in the hours before the funeral. His father looked far more peaceful [and admittedly weak] while asleep than he did while awake. “I have done it, Father.” he told the sleeping king. “The race of monsters is gone. Not a single Asgardian life was lost.”
Not on Jotunheim, at least.
Loki sighed with satisfaction and a small smile before he peered at his father’s face. The light caught a faint sheen on Odin’s cheek, a hint of glistening trail as if there had been a tear.
Probably a bit of sweat, Loki would have the servants cool the room.
“Worry not, Father.” Loki whispered. “Asgard is in the best of hands.”
“Brother.”
Loki stiffened as he scanned the room with a muttered curse. Perhaps he had slept less than he thought. No matter, the day would soon be done and with it a final end to all of it. There would be nothing but ashes left of the mighty thunderer.
--
One by one, those who wished to spoke in honor of Thor. Loki tried not to roll his eyes as they poured their misguided hearts out. Just a little longer and there would never be another moment overshadowed by Thor again. They would never put Loki behind Thor again.
Loki looked over at his people and smiled, he wanted them to know that they were in good hands. That he would rule over them benevolently and wisely, unlike what the foolish oaf would have done.
What looks he received back were utterly cold and he was certain he could count looks of contempt among them. Just a little longer. Loki thought. I will make you look upon me as you did him.
Soon Loki would speak and he would light Thor’s funerary boat. He absently rubbed at the hand that had turned blue on Jotunheim.
“I’ve looked forward to this day as long as you have.”
Loki heard the echo of his own voice in his mind. He had looked forward to the coronation and his plot to reveal the falsehood that was Thor, another fiction in the House of Odin.
“You are my brother and my friend.”
Lies, all lies. Thor had never been a brother to Loki, he had never been a friend.
“Sometimes I am envious.”
Loki Liesmith had been weaving the webs with which to ensnare Thor and how very well it had all worked. Of course he had never envied Thor, what was there to envy? What a hollow confection, what an unsatisfying creation, what a purposeless-
“But never doubt that I love you."
Loki waited for the feeling in the reverie, the warm and familiar palm upon his neck. Thor’s peculiar way of professing love. While Thor the boy had been more vocally expressive, Thor the man was so very touchy.
A gesture that said I love you, brother.
Loki recalled suddenly the Thor in the dream who had tried to press a hand to Loki’s neck only to fail with a look of sadness.
Thor had no words, and he had no gestures, he could only be silent.
But he had tried in his own way to-to what?
Loki had killed Thor, so why would the oaf seek to express sentiment?
Why did the mirror Loki and the dream Thor look at him so strangely, why did they clutch at their chests?
Loki felt cool wetness on his cheeks and realized he had been crying.
A hand upon his neck, foreheads pulled close, a wry little smile and blue-eyes that Loki knew as well as his own filled with quiet, tender affection. A silent declaration of love.
The chasm of emptiness in Loki’s chest ached but not as before. The ache was not a mystery, not a hollowness, not a hole that sought to be filled through achievement.
Loki had so thoroughly ignored his own heart, his own feelings, that he could experience only a painful absence.
A sad Thor, a reproachful Loki.
A hole where his heart should be.
Oh. Loki thought. “Oh.” he breathed as he blinked wet eyes and felt for the first time the immense grief that had been consuming him. He had dissociated and compartmentalized so thoroughly but now he felt it. Now he realized what he’d been missing. Loki knew why he had not been satisfied or rendered happy, why his victory felt so hollow.
Because he had lost. Oh, Norns, he had lost everything.
What had he done?
This was not what he’d wanted, he had never wanted this. Why hadn’t anyone stopped him? Why hadn’t Thor, what hadn’t his brother stopped him? Why had he not helped Loki? Why this time did Thor surrender, who never surrendered before?
I love you, brother.
Loki choked as his vision blurred. No, no, no, no. This could not be. He would not allow it, he would not stand for it, this was not right.
“My king?” A woman prompted as she waited for Loki to start officiating the final portion of the funeral.
Thor’s funeral. Loki’s brother’s funeral.
Why was she calling him king? Did she not see? Her king lay silent in a funeral boat and this was not right.
But Loki would make it so.
Loki worked sorcery swiftly as he proved, to no one but himself in that moment, how truly he was the greatest sorcerer of Asgard. A double of Loki officiated a false corpse as Loki used an expansive spell [a trick, his brother would say] to create a false sight before all present. Loki left a faux corpse in place of Thor’s body as he took advantage of the power boost from the king’s staff Gungnir to teleport he and his brother away. The double of Loki spoke to a funeral that would not be and burned a body that never was.
Loki laid Thor down on Loki’s own bed and the feel of Thor made him sick. His brother was cast in shadows. He emitted no light and no warmth, the very essence of Thor was absent. The heart of Asgard, the heart of Loki, was absent. Of course his heart could not be whole. Not when the brightest half of it lay mired in darkness. He tenderly brushed Thor’s hair back from his pale face. “I will make this right, brother.” he promised. “I did not mean for this to happen. You must believe that. I only-do you not see? It was the only way to prove myself. I had to be rid of those monsters and you would have stopped me, you would have thought me one of them. But I am Loki, brother. Of Asgard.”
Loki brought his palm to Thor’s neck in a rare return of their gesture of affection. “I will use words as you do.” he said through again wet eyes. “Do you understand?” he brushed his thumb under Thor’s jaw fondly. “It was all a terrible mistake. I will bring you back, and I will help you to be worthy again. And you can come home, of course you can. I…I should not have said otherwise but…Thor, I had to…” his lip trembled. “You will understand, surely…when I fix things…then you will see. They-they all will…”
Tears streaked across Loki’s cheeks as he caressed his cold, silent brother. How dearly he missed the one who should be. Thor was meant to be of light and warmth, he was vibrant and brilliant and he loved Loki. Loki despised the shadows that Thor cast him in, but he loved his brother, he loved the Thor who loved a Loki cloaked in darkness. Thor loved him as no other did or would or even could. Just as Loki loved Thor despite Thor being so very beastly at times. They complemented each other. Loki with his darkness and Thor with his light. Each so full of what the other lacked.
Thor would understand, Thor would see, he must. Loki would help him.
Loki spent the next four days in seclusion as he prepared for the darkest of dark arts. He did not bother with the pretense of kingship and vitriolically turned away any who sought him out, his mother included. Thor looked worse for wear but Loki would fix that too, he would fix everything.
Loki used his own blood for part of the spell and smiled wryly at the realization that, in a way, they would be blood brothers after all.
He did not sleep or eat and it showed. The trickster had not done much of either before the funeral as well. Loki’s face was ragged and he felt worn but was propelled by the surety and excitement of his purpose. Of the impending reunion with his brother.
Necromancy was forbidden, it was an affront to the natural order.
But Loki was Loki. A son of Odin. A prince of Asgard. A sorcerer without rival or equal. The Norns had conspired against him from his very birth but they would give him this.
Or rather, Loki would take it.
Life demanded life and a god’s life demanded a heavy price indeed. But Thor had been mortal when he died, perhaps he had not even gone to Valhalla little that it would matter. Loki had only to pay the price for a mortal life, even if the soul was Thor’s.
But for good measure he used an Asgardian life. Loki took a prisoner from the dungeon as well as a newborn goat to be fully prepared. Life old and new offered for one life that was both.
Loki painted runes onto Thor with the mixture of his blood and theirs along with what other ingredients were called for. He dug deep into the reserves of his magic, to the marrow of his bones as the working called for power beyond any Loki had done before. He would steal a soul and a life back from the jaws of death, from Niflheim itself. Loki would bring his big brother home.
Thor would surely do the same for him, were their position reversed. And how glad he would be that Loki did this for him. He must have forgiven him. Why else appear in Loki’s dreams and offer loving sentiment? As to the child Loki in the mirror…well, that must have been his own subconscious, his own inner mind trying to get Loki to see what he had been missing.
Loki drank some of the mixture and poured the rest as best he could down Thor’s stiff throat. He massaged it down with physical touch and sorcery as he murmured the incantations needed. A storm brewed outside and he nearly laughed that he had called down his own storm to bring back his brother the storm-bringer. What seemed as days but was the work of moments passed and the spell was finished.
Loki felt ready to collapse on his feet but stared at his brother instead. Slowly but surely the ravaged skin began to firm again, color returned to the wan cheeks, the chest rose and fell with the breath of life, and cloudy but rapidly clearing blue eyes opened. The blue eyes slid slowly over to Loki. “Welcome back, brother.” Loki said with a smile, exhausted but gladdened as his heart swelled at the sight of his brother restored to life.
Thor’s mouth after a moment opened and closed just slightly and Loki shushed him.
“Do not try to speak yet.” Loki said gently. “You will be weak for a time and after all, you are still only mortal. We will fix that, of course. Soon.” he promised. He watched with rising glee as Thor’s fingers twitched though Thor continued his attempts to speak. A gurgling noise came from Thor’s throat and a choked rasp as Thor’s body shuddered. “Thor.” he chided lightly. “Peace, be patient.”
Loki had used necromancy to revive Thor and bound his older brother to him to do so. Without such a tether Thor’s life force and soul would be dragged right back out of him. The universe would try to ‘correct’ the unnatural inversion. And necromancers generally had nefarious purpose so it suited them to tie the revived to them. A necromancer might seek a powerful person to wield their strength as their own or to create for themselves a powerful revenant bound to serve them.
Loki would do no such thing, of course. He wanted a brother, not an undead servant. The trickster would not take advantage of Thor. Loki should never have killed him in the first place but that was another matter. He gently tucked a bit of Thor’s hair behind his ear as Thor stared with wide, newly re-wet eyes. Loki indulged in cupping Thor’s cheek in his palm as he brushed his thumb against his brother’s face. “I am sure you are overwhelmed.” he said softly. “Confused. But fear and worry not, brother. You are safe now, home. And that is where you will stay.” Loki assured his brother.
Thor blinked rapidly as his mouth continued the nearly imperceptible movements of opening and closing as his fingers twitched and slightly moved towards Loki’s arm.
Loki smiled as he presumed his brother wished for the comfort of contact. He took Thor’s hand and pressed it between his own as he pressed a chaste kiss to Thor’s knuckles. “I am here, brother. I have you.”
Thor’s expression grew more functionality and became pained as he ceased his attempts to speak and inhaled slowly instead. He turned his gaze up to the ceiling with an almost despairing expression.
“Thor…” Loki soothed. “Let nothing trouble you. I-I know much has happened…I will explain it all soon…but know this…I am sorry for what has happened…and I do love you, brother. More dearly than any other.” he said assuredly. The blue eyes returned to his own and Thor made a hitched breathing noise. “I will protect you.” he vowed. “As you have…always done me.” With notable exceptions but Loki supposed he could let the matter rest, Thor had died after all, Loki felt that rather disrupted his position on the high ground. Well, they would talk it all out, Loki would see to that this time.
“L…ki…” The incomplete name was a raspy wheeze from Thor’s barely open lips.
Loki beamed as his brother’s first word upon living again was his name, more or less. “Yes, brother. I am right here.” he reassured him as he trailed his fingers through Thor’s hair tenderly.
Thor’s expression was pained and frustrated. “H-…h…ow…” he rasped.
“How what?” Loki asked as he tilted his head before he guessed with a remorseful expression. “Your…your death?” Thor stared and Loki forged ahead as he answered, Thor would need to know anyway. “I have brought you back using ancient sorcery.” he said. But Thor, for all the little he knew of magic, knew enough. The only ‘ancient sorcery’ to bring the dead back was forbidden, dark, and very definitely necromancy. And even Thor knew how wrong it was. The implications.
Well, for any sorcerer and revenant that were not the Odinson brothers.
Thor’s eyes widened as he made a choked noise. “N-N…o…”
“It’s alright!” Loki reassured him quickly. “I swear to you, Thor. I will never use our connection against you. Everything will be as it was before, and only we need know what lies between us.” He might be tempted at times, but Loki would resist. It would be a gross violation of their brotherhood and trust if Loki compelled Thor to Loki’s will. No, that would be a deep betrayal and Loki had hurt Thor enough, more than enough…though, so had Thor done to Loki but…well, they would work through all of that, all would be well.
All would be well.
A couple of stray tears slipped from Thor’s eyes and Loki made a sympathetic noise as he gently brushed them away. “Brother…” he leaned down as he pressed their foreheads together and cradled Thor’s neck again. “We will look after each other, will we not? When we are united, no force can stand against us. I think we have both forgotten that of late but now…now we have a second chance, Thor.”
“Pl…ease…b-bro…ther…” Thor’s voice was weak and pleading.
“Worry not.” Loki soothed gently. “I forgive you. You need not ask.”
A few more tears fell and Loki leaned his cheek against Thor’s as he did his best to comfort Thor in the way that Thor so liked to do. They would both learn better how to appreciate and help each other, Loki would make a goal of it. He never wanted to be so divided with his brother again, it was bad for both of them. The brothers needed each other.
“D-Don’t….d-do th…is…” Thor begged. “Sh…ould…n-not…-”
“-Oh, Thor.” Loki said fondly as he lifted to smile down at his brother with his head hovered a few inches away. He stroked his brother’s cheek affectionately as he continued warmly. “There will be no consequence. You are lucky to have such a powerful sorcerer as I for a brother. You and I are bound, there is no force that can break it if I do not will it. And I never will. I will keep you safe, Thor…we were always going to be together regardless, you need not pay this any mind. Nothing will change. It will be our little secret, brother. We have so few these days, but now that we are mended…well, perhaps we shall confide in each other as we used to, mm?” Loki finished with a light, questioning hum.
He leaned down to press a soft kiss to Thor’s forehead and then to his cheek, a mirror of what they used to do in childhood. Loki fixed Thor with an adoring smile such as he’d not been able to muster in a couple of centuries at least. He had forgotten how to adore his brother and how dearly he did truly love Thor. The oaf had his flaws but he was Loki’s brother all the same. Who better than Loki to care for and guide Thor? That had always been Loki’s intended role and he minded it far less when he kept in mind what Thor meant to him. And what Loki was sure he meant to Thor. If Thor had forgotten then Loki would help him remember. He would always help him remember from now on. They would have the rest of their lives together.
“L-Loki…broth.er…p-please…n-no-”
Loki gently pressed the back of his knuckles against Thor’s lips as he looked on his brother fondly. Thor would need time to recover but Loki would tend him. “I promise you, Thor, you have nothing to worry about. I will take care of everything. I am more capable than you give me credit for.” he said in a teasing tone where once would have been resentment and fury. The bitterness seemed so faraway now, the swell of his heart was much preferable to the cavernous emptiness when Loki had been bereft of half his heart. “I love you, Thor.” he said sincerely, directly and without addendum. A fair bit of time had passed since he’d been able to so easily do that either. How freeing it all was now that his eyes had been opened.
Thor’s expression crumpled at the words as he stared up at his little brother. Loki was lost to madness, that much was clear. But there was such love in his face and voice as Thor could not recall hearing in so long. Thor struggled to reach for Loki’s neck, to clasp it with a trembling hand in their familiar grasp and as he barely managed he saw Loki absolutely beam.
Apologies and sorrows mingled with centuries of love and brotherhood on his tongue. Alongside with horror and remorse at the reality before him. He had to get help for Loki, he had to stop this, Thor could not exist this way, even Thor knew this could not be-
Loki thought his heart might burst as Thor used gesture instead of word to return the loving sentiment. He just knew Thor would understand, would see it Loki’s way, how could Thor not? And he was suddenly unafraid of Thor turning on him for his heritage. How could Thor doubt Loki’s love and fidelity now, now that he had brought Thor back and bound them so completely? They would not exist without each other now.
Finally, the brothers could share in everything, the light and the dark merged at last.
Loki felt a wonderful fullness in his chest and smiled.