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“Father, what does that mean? Have we done something wrong?”
For a long while, Odin didn’t answer. He just stared at the recently repaired rainbow bridge that was no longer illuminated by a vast colour spectrum. Instead, it pulsed with an achingly familiar single colour. Lokis colour.
“No, I have looked over the repair works. No fault of ours could’ve changed the energy current provided to the bifrost. It is powered by an energy channel we managed to divert from Yggdrasil. For it to have changed, something must have happened with the world tree itself.”
Thor sprang up, happy to be able to do something. “Then, I will go there and see what has happened.”
Odin raised a hand to stall him. “The path to Yggdrasil is not an easy one. It takes very powerful seidr and a talented witch to open. Even with that, there are other things to consider. The path itself is outside space and time. If will feel like an eternity of nothing, like you never manage to move forward but you will have to press on.”
The prince nodded eagerly. “I can do this, father. We need to know what has happened before we use the bifrost as it is now.”
Humming, the all-father looked at the eerily familiar green of the rainbow bridge. “I myself have only gone there once.” His thought drifted “I have always been sure what my reign should be like. Until one day, I wasn’t any longer. Everything seemed so wrong all of a sudden. I had conquered the nine realms. But the victory felt shallow considering my loss. So, I asked your mother to open a path to Yggdrasil to gain some wisdom what to do and how to rule.” His sons eyes widened but he didn’t notice. His thoughts lingered in the vast darkness he’d experienced. “It felt like the journey would never end. Decades or centuries alone in darkness with nothing but my thoughts and errant impressions to plague me. Then, I was amongst the branches. It was indescribable, breathtaking. But Yggdrasils power is a lot to withstand. I could not bear to stay for long. The very air was so full of power, I could hardly breathe. I stayed and learned from its stories as long as I could but after a bit, I had to leave and make the arduous journey back.”
“How long were you gone?”
Odin smiled bitterly and let his gaze wander to the stars. “It felt like a lifetime to get there, a second to stay and another lifetime to get back.” He paused. “I was told that I had been gone for a scant seven days.”
The god of thunder breathed out, not aware he’d been holding the air inside. “I will go and learn what is wrong with the world tree.” He could journey seven days even if it truly felt longer. Even if he had to be fast at his destination so as to not crumble under the power of Yggdrasil.
The god king nodded. “You must. But it will not be an easy journey. On it, even while nothing is there, you will receive impressions from events past, present and future. You must not falter. You must not hesitate and steadily go on.”
“I will.”
His mother had fretted over him, explaining to him once again that he had to ignore any impression he might receive on his journey until he reached the end. “Information out of context”, she’d explained to him, “is rarely correctly interpreted. It’s what every seer learns in their first lesson. Don’t falter if you see something horrifying. Don’t halt if you hear your loved ones cry. When you come back, we will talk about what you have seen and heard. But until then, pretend you did not see or hear anything along the path.”
He had assured her that he would not be distracted by the impressions of Yggdrasil. She had smiled sadly. “I truly hope so. Your brother could not. That is why I never taught him to see. His mind would’ve gotten lost in Yggdrasils branches. I pray to the Norns that this is not the fate of my other son.” The reminder of his brother hurt as it always did. More than anything he wished that the brother from his childhood who’d always stood by him and understood seidr better than him was here right by his side, taking the journey together. But his mothers words also made him pause. If she truly never thought Loki—who was her best disciple—ready to be taught to walk Yggdrasil with his mind, what hope would he have to do it physically?
He looked down at his chest plate. Underneath it, safely tucked away, was an amulet his mother had given him. It was a beacon for him to find his way home, to not fall onto another branch of Yggdrasil by mistake. He truly hoped it worked because otherwise he would never see his family again. Unlike his brother, he could not think up magical solutions on his feet.
When the spell was finally cast—his mother leading it while Odin and a dozen witches lent her their power—he was still wasn’t ready.
He found himself in utter darkness.
Hesitantly, he took a step. He couldn’t even see the hand in front of his eyes. It didn’t feel like he he was moving at all. Still, he continued to move, just like his parents had told him to.
It truly felt like eternity.
He was alone with his thoughts. Until this journey he hadn’t realised that he’d never been truly alone. There had always been a companion at his side, an enemy to fight, his family to rely on. Until a year ago, there had always been Loki. Now, even if he were to die, no one would see, no one could help. It was indescribably frightening.
It also gave him time to think. And thinking was something he generally avoided—especially since he’d thought his brother dead. Now that he was back again but changed he hardly recognised him, his aversion was even stronger. How could he not have noticed that his brother had strayed to such a dark path that he would invade another realm and kill countless innocents? Had it not always been Loki who warned him not to incur collateral damage? To think before resorting to violence?
Not that Loki wasn’t pretty violent himself. Oh no, his brother enjoyed a good fight just as much as the next Aesir. It was just that his baby brother was much more hesitant to start a violent encounter without talking first. He was so much more patient than Thor, sought to understand others points of view, knew so much more about the nine realms.
He truly would’ve been a great king.
He nearly stumbled at the thought but forced himself to keep going on. The though though, lingered. Why hadn’t father chosen Loki to be king? Just because he was younger? Since his powerless exile two years ago he knew he had grown and learned. But until now, he hadn’t looked at the past and applied his new personal growth to reevaluate it. He had learned that he hadn’t been ready to be king. Loki had been right. So why had father tried to give him the crown for this Odinssleep? It made no sense. He should’ve chosen mother as he’d always done until then. And if he truly wanted to give the crown to his son for trial, he should’ve given it to Loki who had been much more ready than him.
True, the people might not have taken his trickster brother serious as king but he remembered the council sessions the princes were part of. While Thor had usually dozed off, Loki had actively engaged the councillors for changes. The first prince had never bothered to really listen, but his friends had told him how much Loki tried to do, to manipulate in their words. Only recently, he’d made the experience that one had to manipulate and talk around the council to ever achieve something without outright threatening them. His face burned in shame as he thought back to what he would’ve done had he gained the crown two years back—probably outright demanded they listened to them if they didn’t want to face him in a duel over a perceived slight. Aesir culture was based on battle, but he’d never thought about when it would be appropriate to lean into it or not to. It was just so easy to cling to those norms, he hadn’t noticed that a king should be aloof to them.
He nearly halted again as a thought crossed his mind.
Loki was raised Aesir but their parents had told Thor about his adoption after his perceived death. Maybe Loki had felt as lost as he was after learning that Aesir culture wasn’t all there was. Was that what had caused him to change so utterly? Could a person be changed so much by that knowledge? Three years ago, he would have denied it, sworn on his life that no matter what, Loki would always conduct himself as befitting a prince of Asgard—well, aside from his tricks and mischief. But those hardly mattered because Loki never would’ve caused grief and harm when it truly mattered.
This revelation brought him not far in understanding what had gone wrong with his brother.
At one point—he wasn’t sure how much time had passed by then—the visions had started to assault him. Sometimes, it was only a snippet of a picture, sometimes he heard voices. Often, they sounded familiar. Sometimes, he even recognised them or the scenes. But just as often did he see or hear people he didn’t know. Maybe he would never know them, maybe they were long dead. Mayhaps he just hadn’t gotten to known them yet.
A gut wrenching cry made him stumble.
He hastily continued to move but his jaw clenched as his eyes sought a vision. There was none. Only Lokis screams.
They echoed all around him. He had never known his brother could make those sounds but he recognised the voice all the same. How could he not? This was his baby brother. He’d heard his sounds of pain when wounded on an adventure. Even if he’d never heard him hurt so much. It was like Thor felt the pain alongside his brother.
“Surrender. And all pain will go away.”
He heard his brother laugh, hardly recognising him this time. It sounded unhinged. “Never.”
“Then you will suffer.”
Lokis screams continued for a long while, then slowly faded as another vision took its place. Thor took no notice, his pulse racing. What had happened? It had to be the future. So, how would Loki who was currently safe and sound in Asgards prison end up captured and tortured? Who would dare lay a hand on his brother?
Before he could continue this thought, the sight of his brother distracted him. Hungry for more, but not forgetting to move, he took in the sight. Loki was with him, Thor, and did “get help”. Given, it looked reluctant but the sight filled him with something he had assumed gone. He did not recognise their surroundings, it hadn’t happened yet. So to see Loki work with him once more, gave him hope that his brother, his once best friend and closest companion, could be redeemed. The soundless vision was gone as fast as it had come.
The next impression was a disappointment for his ravenous need to see Loki but it came with both, sound and vision, showing him a stranger that was apparently fighting against his own celestial father.
A series of impressions passed him, rarely containing a glimpse of his brother, most of them showing their past or events he knew had already passed. It ached and soothed his soul in equal measures to see a young Loki. He had never noticed how silent and burdened he’d become until he saw his baby brother free of worry and woe. Bittersweet memories.
Then, he saw his brother facing his new friend Tony. The change in attitude was jarring. It was only for a couple of heartbeats and he could not hear anything said but Thor was still captivated by the horrifyingly cruel smile his brother bore on his face. The cold look in his blue eyes. Then it was gone.
A pit opened in his stomach as he noticed the error of that image.
Before he could truly comprehend what he was seeing, he was looking at his mothers bloody corpse.
A gasp wrenched itself from his throat which quickly turned into a sob. He closed his eyes, willed the image away but the vision wasn’t something he could banish from his sight. The impressions of the void around Yggdrasil were delivered straight into his mind. He could not chase them out.
Blessedly, darkness surrounded him again as he heard a slap and his brother excited voice: “Oh, I like her.”
He heard and saw other people and places he could not identify. It felt like an eternity in which he pondered the loss of his mother, still young and beautiful. He’d never thought that she would die until she became a white-haired old witch, gently falling asleep. To loose her so suddenly, so violently…
“If it was easy, everyone would do it.” His brothers voice was like balm on his soul. “Are you mad?” Well that would be a nice change of pace. Usually, Loki accused him of such. “Possibly.”
He heard the sound of bone breaking. An unknown person saying: “No resurrections this time.”
Then, he saw his father with what at first glance seemed to be Loki as a female. He’d only seen his brother turn into his sister once. She’d been a beautifully pale, delicate thing with hair so dark and silky Sif could never manage. He’d been so surprised, he’d foolishly blurted out that it was so weird. Loki had instantly switched back to being male and never let him apologise or explain himself. His brother had simply pretended like nothing had happened and Thor had been all too young, stupid and grateful and let the matter fall.
Until that moment he’d rarely thought on the scene and it’s implications again, uncomfortable with what Aesir custom thought about males with female urges. Every so often, he’d pushed Loki to be manlier, worried by what others would think about his brother and how they would treat him if it was ever found out, that Loki might be more comfortable as a female. Such a reputation would ruin him, did ruin it slightly. His “tricks” would’ve been much more accepted if he’d chosen physical labor to achieve them instead of seidr which was generally women work.
Sometimes, he felt bad about the lengths he went to to get his brother to act more manly. He’d never actively thought back to girl Loki but it had lingered in the back of his mind.
The woman next to his father was not Loki.
She looked a lot like him, like father but it wasn’t Loki. He was certain. This woman looked much sharper than Loki ever had, soulless. There was an aura around her that screamed danger. It felt more like the Loki of late than the Loki of the past. And it had to be the past for his father still possessed both eyes.
The Allfather put a hand on the woman’s shoulder and smiled at her, saying something he couldn’t hear. The stranger smiled in turn, a little wicked, a little innocent. She was holding his hammer. Mjöllnir was dripping blood.
The scene was replaced by the sight of a giant inhabited skull in space. Nowhere.
Who had been the woman? Who was it that had held his hammer before him? He’d thought father had had it made for him but apparently, he’d inherited it from this woman. Why had father never talked about the one who’d led his beloved hammer into battle before him?
His father faded in front of his eyes, in front of Loki and Thor clad in midgardian garb. It took a second for the grief to hit. Had he not lost enough? Would his father also die so soon?
There was nothing but a snap. He waited for more but for a while there was nothing but the echo of that snap and the feeling of loss.
“My son, Odin. Why can’t you be stronger?”
“I can do this all day.”
“It’s not about you.”
“I’m sorry, I failed you.” Was that his father voice?
“I am inevitable.”
“I am groot.”
”Dear sister, you must be strong—for all of us. We have no other choice. Odin can’t be stopped. We simply don’t have the numbers.”
“Donna, I’m so sorry.”
“Now give us a kiss.” He remembered that. It had been his coronation day.
“How much for the arm?”
“I thought you were my friend.”
“So, you want to kill nazis?”
“With great power comes great responsibility.”
“Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain.”
“I don’t want to go, Mister Stark. I don’t want to go.”
“How could you do this?”
“Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain.”
“You’re a valkyrie.” That one was his brother. But it couldn’t be. All valkyries were dead.
“We owe it to everyone not in this room to try.”
“Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain.”
“She’s got help.”
“I’m always angry.”
“Dormammu, I’ve come to bargain.”
“I will break you and you will serve him.”
“Why is Gamora?”
“You’re here to repair your future, not mine.” Mother. What did she mean?
“Kneel. Before your queen.”
“Whatever it takes.”
“I still feel like we failed her.”
“ODIN! What did you DO?” He had never heard his mother so aghast, so righteously furious.
“I am iron man.”
“Sometimes, I am envious. But, never doubt that I love you.” Norns, what had happened to his brother?
Pictures ran before his eyes, too fast to register them all. It was like time was flashing by.
There was a bald women and a bearded man, both wearing sorcerer robes, in front of a window. Time itself seemed to stand still. It was surreal.
“We don’t get to choose our time. Death is what gives life meaning. To know your days are numbered. Your time is short. You’d think after all this time I’d be ready. But look at me, stretching one moment out into a thousand…Just so I can watch the snow.”
Then, he saw himself on the ground, a towering soldier standing over him, ready to kill him. Suddenly, Loki was there, killing his assailant. He was stabbed in turn.
Thor shouted together with his counterpart, not accepting that loss. Was he to loose his mother, his father and his brother? Not only that but to loose them so young? He waited for help to arrive, waited for the other Thor to do something. But all he saw was his brother dying in his arms.
His steps trembled as he took them, nearly incapable of going on.
Before he could grasp his own grieve, his brother spoke: “the sun will shine on us again, brother.”
Then, they were somewhere else. It didn’t make sense. It was a different place, they were wearing different outfits and Thor nearly didn’t recognise himself without his long hair or eye. But he was still cradling his brothers dead body in his arms, crying.
Thor stopped walking.
Darkness surrounded him.
Not a single sound.
He did not want to go on, did not want to continue see his brother dead in a multitude of possibilities, all essentially the same. What kind of cruel trick was this? This couldn’t be the future. No one died multiple times. These had to be possibilities right? But even if it was so, he didn’t want to continue seeing his baby brother dead.
He could not bear it.
For what felt like an eternity, he did not move.
Time did not pass.
The amulet beneath his chest plate burned and the need to go home and hug his mother, hug his brother was becoming unresistible. Just to check. Just to assure himself, they were still there, still alive. Then, he would never let them out of his sight again. He would stop this. All of this madness. He’d see them safe, keep them safe.
There was no vision, no sound, no impression around but he heard his brothers voice all the same. He remembered. “I could’ve done it father. I could’ve done it. For you. For all of us.” He had been haunted by his brothers final words for over a year. They kept repeating in his nightmares over and over. Every night.
He still hadn’t processed that his brother had actually, truly survived his fall. He wasn’t ready to accept his death again.
But…
“Must you always be so foolish, brother?”
He could not act on his emotions. He had grown in the past years. He had to think this through. What good would he do if he returned now? For once, he understood his brothers constant nagging. He’d missed it. Missed him.
He took a step.
Instantly, a green glow filled his vision.
Yggdrasil was breathtakingly, indescribably beautiful. It was a singular marvel. While it’s trunk and branches were made of the same green glow as Lokis achingly familiar seidr, the leaves shone in a multitude of colours and hues, resembling flowers. Thor could honestly say that he’d never seen anything more amazing in his life and doubted that he ever would.
Wait, hadn’t his father told him that he’d arrived amongst the branches? That the very presence of Yggdrasil had forced him to leave soon after? Thor only felt a gentle hum of seidr. Nothing at all like what his father had described.
Cautiously, he took another step, not even noticing the green pathway forming for his feet. As he walked closer, the tree became instantly huge as if it had teleported next to him. As if space had no meaning here. In just a heartbeat or two he stood in front of the trunk. Just as he was reaching out to touch it, the branches forming it moved out of the way. He hesitated, but took the invitation offered and stepped inside.
He could not say how long it took him to reach the center but suddenly, he was in a round room, completely made out of branches. Upon the golden root throne, sat a man he hardly recognised.
It wasn’t that he looked all that different objectively. True, his armour war unfamiliar and his horned helmet had been replaced by a broken horned crown. He still had the same hair though, the same face, the same clever fingers. But his eyes were so different. Ancient.
It was Loki but not. He had never seen his brother look at him like that. He looked regal yet broken.
“Brother?” There was uncertainty in his voice.
This strange Loki smiled. It was sad. “Hello, brother. I was wondering whether you would make it. Other Thors have tried and failed.”
He looked around the mockery of a throne room and noticed that the branches of Yggdrasil seemed to come out of Loki, unbreakably connected. They looked like chains. “Brother, what has happened? I don’t understand.”
Loki sighed and waved a hand. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Take a seat and I will tell you my story.” Thor hesitantly took the offered seat formed by vines in front of the throne. “After all, stories are all I have left.”
“I have a small favour to ask of you.”
Loki had always had a penchant for either vastly overstating or criminally understating things. But this time, he could not begrudge his brother. While he was itching to go back to his timeline to prevent all the awful things he’d learned from Yggdrasil—from Loki—that would happen, he gladly postponed his journey home in favour of helping out the probably loneliest version of his baby brother.
He would help him help the loneliest version of Thor.
Reuniting the brotherless brothers came first. After, he would hug his own Loki and never let him go again, even if he had to endure a stab wound or twenty to finally get his brother to cooperate.