Chapter Text
Loki was alone in his chambers when Thor came to deliver the summons to the throne room.
"Have you any idea what Father wants of us?" Thor asked, fidgeting in the doorway of the bedchamber as Loki changed into more formal clothing. He wanted to urge his younger brother to hurry, but in fairness Loki was dressing as fast as he could.
"None whatsoever," Loki answered the question. It had been a silly one anyway, as Thor well knew-- his brother had been engaged in some sort of magical study when Thor pounded on his door, papers and books spread across the worktable that served as his desk. It was evident Loki had not expected Father's summons any more than Thor had. "And I do not understand this business of forbidding us to wear armor."
"I expect we're in trouble of some sort," Thor said uneasily. He could not think of any reason for Father to be displeased with him, but it would not be the first time Father had been infuriated by some act that had seemed harmless to Thor at the time. And Loki, of course, might have been up to anything in the days since Thor had last seen him at the sparring grounds.
"I expect so," Loki agreed, his face settling into the impassive mask with which he met anxiety. It troubled Thor sometimes, that his brother did not trust even him with his fears, but this was not the time to speak of that.
"Well, no matter," Thor said, injecting heartiness into his voice. "You will soon talk him round, Silvertongue."
The glance Loki sent his way made Thor wish he had not spoken. "I think it would be best to leave our excuses to you," Loki said, his tone light and brittle. "There might, that way, be a chance of their being heard." He brushed past Thor to the outer chambers, leaving his elder brother floundering in his wake.
Thor shook his head. If only Loki could see, could accept, how mistaken he was in his belief that Father-- both their parents, really-- loved Thor best. It was wrong, and possibly dangerous, for one so sensitive and with such powers to have so little confidence in his family. It was bound to lead to trouble one day.
There being no reassurance Thor could offer-- and, in fairness, Father did have rather a tendency to assume Loki's every utterance was a falsehood to be met with his wordless, contemptuous growl, despite the fact Loki generally saved that skill for tactical purposes, on the grounds that no one believed a liar who lied all the time-- the brothers continued to the throne room in silence.
The formality of the summons had suggested to Thor that some sort of rebuke was in the offing, but he had certainly not expected the entire court to be assembled to witness it. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Loki tense beside him, and cursed to himself: clearly Loki had a guilty conscience, and clearly he too was being dragged into whatever trouble his brother had gotten himself into. There were, he thought, times when he would give a great deal not to have a sibling.
The brothers each fell to one knee before the dais where sat the throne of the Allfather. Glancing up, Thor noted their mother was in her formal place to the Allfather's right, standing at the top of the steps. The look on her face was nearly as stern as Father's.
Odin rose to his feet, Gungnir in his hand. He wore his full armor, but instead of a sword there was, tucked through his belt, what looked like a ceremonial dagger.
"My son," he said-- or seemed to say, but Thor must have heard amiss, because was Father not looking at both of them? Odin went on, "My heir. Prince of Asgard, who will be king. You will soon come of age, and the time has come for you to prove your loyalty to Asgard and your fitness to rule."
Thor dared not turn his head, but he was aware of Loki looking at the ground before him, of Loki taking this address as a slight. Aggravation rose within him-- did Loki not see it was only a slip of the tongue? Would he always take every opportunity to believe himself overlooked, to think himself unloved?
And besides, clearly nothing bad was about to happen. Obviously, Thor was to be given a quest to prove his worth--very well, it stung a little that Father still thought it necessary-- and Loki would go with him to offer what assistance Thor might need. When Thor returned victorious, his place as heir would be reconfirmed.
Father was waiting for an answer.
"I am pleased to serve Asgard, however I may," Thor spoke up confidently.
Odin inclined his head, then nodded at someone behind Thor, someone he could not see.
A moment later, Thor's own friends Volstagg and Hogun had moved to Thor's side.
No, not to his side. They stepped up to Loki, where he still knelt before the Allfather, grasped his arms and pulled him to his feet, actions more suited to the handling of an enemy prisoner than a prince of Asgard.
"My king?" Loki's question came out in a fairly steady voice, but his expression gave it the lie. He looked for a moment as though he might resist, might demand an explanation, but a glance at the faces of Volstagg and Hogun seemed to persuade him otherwise. It was as if he did not remember they were his lifelong companions, thought they might actually do him harm.
Whatever was happening, it was clear Thor's friends knew more of it than he did: they escorted Loki to the very base of the steps to the throne, where they forced him back to his knees. Both knees, this time, again like a prisoner. Thor, appalled, could only wonder what in the Nine his brother could possibly have done to earn this, and guiltily hope it would not yet rebound upon him.
Odin looked down at his younger son with an expression of grim intent. Even Thor swallowed hard. Then he looked at Thor, his face once again that of the father-king, and spoke.
"This is a test many years-- nearly your whole life-- in the making. From the time you were a child, with a good trusting heart." Odin looked up at the assembly. "Hear me. You see before you my heir, the prince of Asgard." There were a few cheers, but they were more puzzled than anything-- it was apparent the two brothers were not the only ones present who did not understand what was happening.
The Allfather went on, "You also see before him the one raised as his closest dear companion, his brother-- " Again, it was as though Father did not realize what he was saying, that his words could be taken to mean Loki had merely been raised as Thor's brother, rather than his brother in truth. There was a time when Loki would have complained bitterly about that to Thor, after the fact. Of late he had finally learned to swallow such imagined slights, but though he did not speak of them to Thor, Thor was quite sure his brother still brooded over them.
Well, no matter. Thor was beginning to see the shape of the upcoming test: Loki would be taken away somewhere, and Thor would have to rescue him, like a damsel. The thought of his brother's affront, of the merciless teasing to be administered later, was nearly enough to bring a smile to Thor's face.
And then all smiles stopped together as Odin said,
"Raised as his brother, but not. Raised as a prince, but not.
"Raised as Aesir, but not."
There was a buzz through the assembly, but Thor could not make out individual words. He was too busy looking at the way his brother's wary face went slack and vulnerable, with shock and with dawning horror.
Odin went on, "In the final days of the War, when I led our troops into Jotunheim and sacked their capital, I found a child in the ruins of the temple. Abandoned, left to die by the creatures who bore it. The son of Laufey, our greatest enemy." Out of the corner of his eye, Thor could see Loki shaking his head. He did not look away from his father, who was still speaking:
"My first instinct was of course to kill it, to rid the Nine of the spawn of that tyrant. But then I thought of the age of peace that would surely result from the destruction of Jotun power. I thought of my heir, who would need to prove his loyalty to Asgard, his fitness to rule, and who might not have wars to test him.
"And so I decided to keep the child, raise it alongside my own son, and when the time came use it, to allow my heir to prove his worth. I placed a glamour upon the Jotun whelp, and brought it here. And so it grew." For the first time, Odin seemed hesitant, looked at Loki with a puzzled expression. "Grew to be clever and loyal, and perhaps even capable of love. At times I even thought I might love it in return. But such is the price asked of a king, to do what is right for his realm-- whatever his heart might say."
There was, now, dead silence in the great hall. The only sound was a muffled sob from Loki, who was staring at Odin as if--
-- As if every fear he had ever entertained about his place in Asgard, in his family, was finally coming true.
The Allfather gestured toward Frigga, who made her stately way down the steps to where Loki knelt. He looked up at her, eyes pleading.
"Mother-- " he began, in an urgent undertone.
"Shh," she crooned, in her soft warm voice, and Thor felt himself breathe more freely. Surely she would not allow… whatever it was Father intended. Loki was her favourite, whatever he claimed to think. How often had Thor and his friends teased him as the daughter she never had. She must love him best, would not let anything terrible happen--
Frigga placed both hands on the sides of Loki's head, cradled it, leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead. "Think of what you have told me, so many times, of your wish to do something great for Asgard, for your brother, to really earn your place. Think of all the times I reassured you that your father had a purpose for you, and one day you would fulfill it. That day is come. Be happy."
"Mother-- ?" Loki tried again, his voice faltering, but she turned away and stood at the foot of the dais. The king descended the steps and now Loki tried to struggle in the grasp of his… of his captors. At a nod from the king, Hogun produced a set of shackles, and a moment later Loki's hands were bound behind his back, and his magic bound with them, the transformation from prince to prisoner complete.
And then Odin, too, cradled Loki's head in his heads, looking down with his one stern eye into the now tear-filled green ones before him. His lips moved, and then there was a glow in his hands. Loki screamed, reeling backward on his knees, and suddenly--
Suddenly, cowering before the Allfather, was a blue-skinned creature with crimson eyes, and reddened markings raised on his face, like scars. There was no way Loki could see what he looked like now, but he must have known-- perhaps the world now looked different through these eyes, or perhaps he could simply see the way the watchers recoiled from him. Thor thought Loki was crying, but apparently Jotun eyes could not produce tears, and the hum of shocked chatter in the hall drowned out any sounds he was making as he was dragged back to his feet.
And now, finally, the Allfather turned his unwelcome attention back to Thor. Came to a halt before him, brought all sounds-- except Loki's muffled sobs-- to a halt by crashing the butt of Gungnir onto the marble floor.
And from his belt he took the elaborate ceremonial dagger, and extended it to his heir.
"The time has come to demonstrate your loyalty to Asgard above all, to the throne above all."
"Father-- " Thor began, and to his horror his voice sounded no stronger than Loki's.
"A king must put the needs of his kingdom before all, must not falter, must not fall victim to misplaced mercy or sentiment. You swore an oath to protect Asgard, to destroy the monsters who threatened her-- "
"I was a child-- " Thor protested, remembering his own words, how Father had encouraged him, patting his head with one hand and holding Loki's with the other. "He is loyal to Asgard, Father. He is my brother. You cannot mean-- "
"-- and now you will show these were not empty boasts," his father went on, as though Thor had not spoken-- but his tone was a warning. "Show where your loyalties lie, and kill the creature. Your people are here to see you choose. Do not betray them for a Jotun runt."
Thor looked around, finally realizing the mood of the room had turned ugly. Loki had never been as popular as Thor, as well-loved, but surely the people did not hate him? Not even Loki had ever claimed that. He had done nothing, Thor knew, to earn it.
And yet, now, the buzzing hum began to grow into a threatening growl. Thor could make out individual words: "Monster," "Kill it," "Traitor," "Do your duty."
For the first time, it began to occur to Thor that, if he refused, Loki might not be the only prince of Asgard to die this day.
"Thor, you know what you must do," Volstagg's deep voice cut across the noise, the familiar steady rumble, reassuring and honest. "For Asgard." Loki twisted in his bonds, trying to look at Volstagg, to get his attention, perhaps hoping for mercy from the one of Thor's friends who had always shown him the most patience. Volstagg did something to Loki's wrist, and the prisoner's knees nearly buckled.
Thor looked around at the blurring sea of faces surrounding him. A very few stood out: Sif and Fandral, grim-faced, waiting for him to prove himself a worthy leader. His mother, resolute, as though she had never held the hand of either of them. The weapons-master who had taught him, the healer who cared for everything from childish scrapes to broken bones. All these people Thor had always sworn to protect, to defend, when he was king, with his own life if necessary.
What was the life of one, measured against all of these?
He took the dagger and turned toward the prisoner, who tried to retreat, scrabbling backward in panic, crimson eyes wide.
"Thor, please. Don't." The voice sounded familiar, but it jolted against his hearing like yet another cheat: Loki would not beg. He would fight or trick, but he never begged. Thor knew that well enough, had reason to know it, had seen him in trouble, in pain, in predicaments anyone else would try to plead their way out of. Even when sparring, when he was small enough to be no match for Thor or Volstagg, he never asked for quarter.
Not of an enemy. Not ever.
"Thor-- ?" Loki wavered.
Thor struck.
The dagger entered the thorax below the ribcage, and whatever Loki was trying to say turned into a bubbling cry. Despite everything he still looked surprised, when he coughed and dark blood sprayed out of his mouth. He looked down at himself, though the blood did not show on his dark clothing, then back up at Thor. Once again, his feet tried to retreat. He backed into Volstagg, who shoved him forward, Hogun gripping the collar of his tunic to drag him back into Thor's reach.
And then he was fighting in earnest, struggling against the shackles that bound his hands and the warriors who held his arms. Hogun went down first, feet kicked out from underneath him, and the Jotun twisted in Volstagg's grip, a maddened creature, teeth bared, monstrous-looking as its black blood trickled down its chin.
"Thor-- " Volstagg cried out. The creature kicked back at him, and Thor struck again, the blade entering the top of the shoulder just by the collarbone, and the creature screamed in anger or pain, and then Thor was upon it, one hand burning on the cold blue flesh of its throat, the other striking again and again with the dagger. He slashed wildly, desperate to end this-- Volstagg roared once as an unlucky blow sliced his arm-- maddened himself by the shouts of encouragement from those assembled to witness this and the cries from the creature under his hands.
He hated them, hated all of them, hated the squirming struggling being underneath him, hated the pain in his hands and Volstagg's encouragement and every single one of those roaring odious faces at the periphery of his vision when he was king he would kill them every one of them there was nothing before his eyes but a red mist--
The thrashing thing under his hands weakened, twitching more than fighting, its chest rising and falling rapidly. Thor looked down, blinking, suddenly able to see.
The creature looked up, ruby eyes going out of focus, breath coming in short gasps. It shivered--
-- and Thor was looking down into the pale, bloody face and teary green eyes of Loki. His Loki.
Blood bubbled past his lips as Loki whispered, "Brother, please."
Thor dropped the dagger, lurched to his feet and staggered backward, retching. Loki tried to turn over onto his belly, might have still been trying to crawl away from his fate, like any dying creature.
Thor looked around, at the sea of hateful faces, at the dais where the creatures stood who expected this of him, at the warriors who had connived at it--
The dagger spun away from his foot as he stumbled forward, lifted the bloody bundle into his arms-- Loki hissed in pain and tried to struggle, the glamour failed and Thor felt his skin burn again as he clutched at Jotun flesh through ripped clothing--
-- And then he was running, his gait awkward as he balanced his burden, ears ringing with shouts of surprise and anger and straining for sounds of pursuit. He called Mjolnir to him, and a moment later his hand closed around its handle, he whirled it and his feet left the marble floor--
-- And then he was entering the Observatory, shouting to Heimdall. The Guardian looked at him, at the limp figure in his arms, and turned toward the Bifrost mechanism.
"We need to go somewhere safe," Thor panted. "Where we will not be followed."
"None will follow you," Heimdall replied, and Thor had only time to think of course, he had failed his test, disgraced himself... the Allfather, his mother, Asgard-- none of them would want him anymore. He swallowed hard, and nodded. He had made his choice.
Heimdall spoke again: "Leave the hammer," he ordered. Thor looked down at Mjolnir, still gripped in his hand. He had just won her, had believed that to be his test, thought he had--
"Of course," he said quietly, and let the weapon fall. Heimdall nodded, and took hold of the mechanism that opened the bridge.
Loki whimpered, and Thor tightened his grip as the Bifrost seized them.
There was a moment of weightlessness, of light, of pressure-- and then Thor felt sand under his feet, and a cold wind on his face.
The stars were all strange.
He heard a noise, turned just in time to see two lanterns approaching at great speed.
There was a colossal blow.