marvelbox | Stitches

It had taken every trick in Loki's considerable repertoire to arrive in Asgard ahead of Brokk and Eitri. As he strode down the halls toward his Odin's throne room, he tucked his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. He fought to control his breathing, to appear calm and in control. The effect was ruined by the tattered state of his coattails, by the wildness of his hair, and the vivid streak of blood that had run from his forehead and past the corner of his eye.

He would explain it, all of it to Father. Well, all that he safely could. Thor's part in the escapade, he would leave out. As much as it gave him pleasure to tweak his brother whenever possible, he owed Thor this one and he would keep his peace. But Father would understand, would no doubt see the cleverness in the plan, would appreciate the gifts he had brought back in addition to the newly-rescued Mjolnir...

The throne room was filled to the point of bursting, though that was not unusual for the day and time. The court turned to look at him, his footfalls loud and hollow, but he told himself that, too, was not unusual.

Then across the crowd of gathered Aesir, he spotted the dark, stumpy forms of the dwarven brothers. His breath caught in his throat with shock, and there was a slight stutter in his step, but otherwise his expression was well-schooled enough to not show his dismay.

Head high, he walked to the steps of the throne and dropped to one knee. "Father, I have won gifts for you, and for the Queen." With a clever movement of his hands he turned the armlet, the golden boar, from the pockets in space he'd used to hide them, and set them on the floor. Mjolnir, he still kept hidden, the titanic weight a strain on his magic that was beginning to make his head pound. He imagined that the dwarves had the common sense to not mention Mjolnir as part of the wager and spoils he had won; surely they must have kept that silent if they were playing for Odin's sympathy.

"Loki." Odin's voice rolled like thunder. It was not the tone that Loki had hoped to hear his name spoken in. "I have been told that you won these gifts dishonorably."

Loki looked up, meeting his father's eye. He saw nothing there but a mirror, that showed a pale but resolute image. "I would beg to differ. I promised them my head, but gave them no leave to touch my neck. It is no fault of mine if the good dwarves did not fully consider the terms."

Brokk cursed him; Eitri grabbed his brother's arm. "We no longer desire his head. We accept your judgment on this matter," the dwarf said.

Loki's eyebrows went up. "Judgment?"

Odin stood. "You have treated friends of Asgard falsely, Loki. It is luck for all of us that they have accepted this, and ask but a pittance in return. The people of other realms might not be so kind." Odin's voice became cold. "Words have as much power as actions, Prince. And you must consider your words, and your wagers more carefully for what they could cause."

Loki bowed his head. "Of course. I understand."

"I don't think that you do." Odin said. Loki looked up sharply to see him wave a guard over. The man held a tray, with a spool of coarse black twine and a needle. "Brokk and Eitri have proposed a punishment I find most fitting. Your words have caused much trouble, Loki. It would be best if you take time to think before speaking so glibly again." The court dissolved in an uproar.

It didn't have to be spelled out any further than that. Loki swallowed hard, but he could also see no path of escape in his father's face. And he refused to beg shamefully in front of the entire court. His head felt strange, light and far away. "I understand."

It was only then that he realized that the noise of the court was not disagreement or protest.

They were laughing.

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Thor hadn't expected mercy, but he wasn't ungrateful for it. He forced his head up and mirrored Loki's gesture stiffly. "Yes, Father. I understand."

Odin gave him another look he couldn't decipher, and for a moment Thor thought he might be asked to stay, but they were both simply dismissed and Thor was eager to be gone. Perhaps soon he would convince someone to spend some weeks with him camping and hunting out in the forest, away from here.

For now, he followed Loki without even thinking of where. He knew from the set of his brother's shoulders that he was furious, and that was all the more reason. Thor called to him as he rounded the corner, wearily braced for a fight.

Loki stopped out of sight around the corner, waiting with a sort of stillness the others often found disconcerting. As soon as Thor stepped around the corner, he drove his fist into his brother's face.

He could never win in a fistfight against Thor. Intellectually, he knew this. But so much rage flowed through his veins that it also didn't really matter at the moment.

His fist connected with a satisfying crack, hard enough that a sharp shock of pain ran through his hand. Loki's face contorted in a silent snarl and he grabbed the front of Thor's tunic, driving him into the nearby wall.

His hands were white-knuckled fists in Thor's tunic as he pressed in, his face only a few inches from his brother's. "You are a fool. If this stupidity is how you will repay me, never ask a favor of me again," he hissed. Though quiet, the words held all the anger and venom of a scream.

Maybe later Thor would argue that it was sheer surprise that stunned him, but at that moment he knew Loki had just broken his nose so forcefully he saw black before his back hit the wall. He didn't resist, even then, with Loki's face so close to his own. It was all he could do not to flinch at the expression on his brother's face.

For too many rapid heartbeats he was silent. His breath made an odd noise, blood leaking sluggishly from his nose. He knew that anything he said would only serve to enrage his brother further, if that were possible, and sometimes it was better to let him spend his fury.

But then he noticed the faint line of a scar on Loki's upper lip. His jaw set, and his hands closed firmly on his brother's wrists.

"I wouldn't have asked in the first place if I knew it would have come to this." His own words were quiet and measured, but the truth and remorse and guilt twined in them made his tone sharp. "Perhaps you could have borne it, brother, but I could not. I meant no disrespect."

Though his eyes were downcast, there was no escaping Loki's gaze - he was shorter by inches, too angry and too close.

"Shut up!" Loki shouted, yanking Thor forward so that he could have the pleasure of slamming his brother against the wall again. "For once in your life, just shut up and listen."

His hands jerked against Thor's tunic again as he fought the urge to just strike instead of speaking. His voice dropped to that low, venomous sound again. "If you knew. If you knew. I knew the possible consequences of my actions before I took them because unlike you, I think. This isn't a schoolyard game any more, brother, and you no longer get to decide the rules or choose who gets to play."

Again he shoved Thor. "What I did was for your future kingdom just as much as it was for you."

Loki was right. He hadn't thought, not really. When he went out to challenge the dwarves and then when he asked his brother to help him recover what he'd foolishly lost, he had simply assumed things would fall as they always had: in his favor. At worst perhaps there would be scars to show for it.

He let Loki shove him, barely feeling the ache in his shoulder blades where they met the wall. The words hurt more. Loki had done this for him, from the start, knowing how it could end.

"What would you have had me do? Sit and watch while you suffered for my foolishness twice over? I should have done a great many things that I did not, and I am truly sorry for that, but what madness makes you think I could have let that happen?" He realized his hands were too tight on Loki's wrists now, and he eased carefully though he didn't release him. "You paid more than your price. It was enough."

"Is it madness? Is it madness to expect you'll have a bloody modicum of sense? You no longer get to decide when I have done enough!" Loki shouted, shoving Thor again. "I am no child that requires the protection of his big brother, and no weakling that must hide in your shadow."

He gritted his teeth and leaned in close, his eyes wild. "I am a knife in the darkness, brother, and you had best start considering what that means now."

Abruptly he released his brother, yanking his hands from Thor's grip in one swift motion. He stepped back rapidly. His voice dropped low, filled with bitterness. "Though the contempt with which you view me and the strength of my love for you never ceases to amaze me."

He barked out a word of command in a strange language and stepped through the wall behind him.

"Loki!" Thor reached after him but the flat of his hand only met cool, unyielding stone. A wordless snarl of frustration twisted his lips, but of course there was no getting through, and knowing his brother he would be long gone after an exit like that.

"Contempt? What contempt?" Thor shouted after him, his hand curling against the wall. "It is my love for you that makes this so impossible. I cannot wield a knife that cuts my hand."

He touched his forehead to the stone. "Damnit Loki."

Stitches

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