Stitches

[complicatedliar]

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.

Comments

[thunders]

Loki would fix this. That was what Thor had thought, arriving in Asgard ahead of his brother, who had stayed behind to sort out the whole affair. His lip was split, a bruise darkening over his left temple, but it was not unusual for Thor, who fought so often. His father had not asked him where he had gone, and instead had simply invited him to sit in court.

Thor wondered if he knew, but he thought that Odin would be more furious if that were the case. He had not been meant to lift Mjolnir yet, but it had called to him. It was meant for him, and when he had tried it in the vault its weight in his hands had fit so he wondered how he had gone so long knowing the lack of it. Its power filled him like a storm beneath his skin. He knew he had no equal, and then he had gone out to prove it so.

And instead he proved it wrong. In one fell move, he had lost Asgard's greatest treasure, and the part of himself that had awakened with it.

Desperate, he had gone to the person he trusted most in the nine realms: his brother. He hadn't even the presence of mind to hide his horror. And Loki, always clever, had promised to set things right. Thor had belied him capable of it until the moment the dwarves swept into court, and he had listened from his place with mounting horror as they decided Loki's fate and breathed not a word of his part in all this.

Still, he thought, his brother was too clever. It would not come to this. He listened until his brother fell silent and the court began to roar, and then he simply could not bear to sit and wait and listen any longer. The flash of the needle set his heart racing more fiercely than the battle in which he'd first wielded Mjolnir.

"Father, wait. Please." Perhaps the word caught Odin off guard, though it was drowned out by the roar of the crowd. He didn't even remember rising to his feet, but now he stood between Loki and Odin -- and the guard presenting the needles. "You cannot -- This is not justice."

"Thor," His father's voice made him cold all over. Though the word was not loud, he felt the weight Odin's gaze bearing down on him.

"It was not Loki's wager that started all of this, it was mine." Thor continued hurriedly, so that it came almost all at once in the same breath. "I --" Odin's staff hit the ground with a boom that seemed to echo in his bones. The silence that fell after it was deafening.

"Thor Odinson," Odin repeated. "Do not dishonor your brother further. I know all that transpires in these realms. Loki will face his punishment," Odin paused, his eye narrowing just a fraction. "And you move unless you wish to administer it."

Thor could not speak. He could not even breathe. The inevitability of this seemed overwhelming. He did not move or look at Loki. He nodded once.

The court came to life once more, cheering for their champion.

[thunders]

Thor agreed with the first part, more or less, but he knew that he should remind her again that they had avoided a worse punishment yet. If the dwarfs had attempted to take Loki's head after all, Thor would have taken theirs, and that of every man or woman who tried thereafter. He wasn't quite so foolish as to not know where that would lead.

But seeing Sif's hands clenched in her lap, and the tenderness with which she stroked Loki's brow, he stilled his tongue. He didn't really disagree.

At the question of safety, Thor rolled the crystal in his hand. His hesitance was evidence enough of his thoughts - not that he would change his mind, but that he was truly considering how best to go about this. Acting rashly had always been the cause of their trouble, and Loki's quick mind had often been the solution, but without that Thor could only do his best to see that his brother came to no more harm.

"He asked us not to. Loki can't be punished for something he had no part in, can he?" His voice wavered on the question.

Thor raised his eyebrows at her. If the situation were any less dire, he may have laughed outright. Lethe and graceful, yes, but delicate she was not or neither of them would have quite so many bruises to show for their matches. Still, she had a point. "That may be so. However... You have already broken his command in coming here to aid us, and in bringing this. The Allfather is not so foolish as the rest of the court." He dropped a hand on her shoulder. "I know that you wish to protect us Sif, but you have done too much already. I am prepared to accept whatever punishment he sees fit, so long as it is only I."

And with that he crumbled the crystal over Loki's mouth, hoping the small piece would be enough to undo the worst of it.

[complicatedliar]

Loki woke sluggishly, his thoughts a stirred-up mess, though he wasn't entirely certain why at first. The potion he used for his headaches often had that effect. But his lips hurt - though somehow that didn't seem to be enough - and he could tell he wasn't alone in bed either.

Which was strange. Very, very strange.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring into his brother's face. That brought the events of the last day back in a rush, the visceral sensations first. The prick of the needle, the pull of twine, it seemed just as real now. His breath caught in his throat and he started to clench his hands, only his hands weren't empty.

He glanced down carefully, moving his head only the bare minimum. It took him a moment to identify the hand that he held as Sif's. That explained the other person at his back, the other set of slow, even breathing.

Loki's heart fluttered with a strange sort of panic that no amount of rational thought seemed to calm. Still, he managed to keep his breathing something resembling even as he carefully released Sif's hand.

What were they doing here? Why hadn't they left? What--

I don't want to... I can't...

He needed to think. He couldn't think, not like this, not with Sif unaccountably settled in against his back, not staring into Thor's sleeping face, making him unable to consider anything but the feeling of his own skin being sewed together. Loki carefully probed at his lips with one hand, but the stitches were indeed gone, and the damage didn't feel as great as it should have.

What did they do?

He needed to think.

He closed his eyes and forced the rising panic in his chest down. Magic required calm and focus, after all. It felt sluggish after the strain of carrying Mjolnir so far for Thor - damn you - but slowly he was able to build up the appropriate field around himself. Slowly, because he didn't want to disturb them, didn't want to wake them, he sank down through the mattress until he reached the floor. He rolled out from under the bed and scrambled to his feet with exaggerated care. His coat and boots were a crumpled heap on the floor. He took them up, straining to use a little bit of magic to make the movement silent.

Then he fled - even he could pretend it was nothing else - by passing through the locked door.

[shield_maiden]

Sif waited until Thor had left before she took a moment to tidy herself. It was rather pointless – there was blood on her clothing and she was wrinkled from sleeping in what she wore. But she paused to wash her hands and face in what was left of the clean water, then quickly tugged her disheveled braid free and fixed it in a quick ponytail atop her head. Perhaps if no one looked too closely, they wouldn’t notice anything suspicious as she left Loki’s rooms this morning.

Slipping out of the prince’s quarters, she did her best to slip unnoticed from the royal wing of personal rooms. Managing to make it out without being spotted – as far as she could tell – Sif took a deep breath and started the morning’s daunting task.

Loki had nooks and crannies and hidey holes hidden all over the palace, and while she knew of a good many of them, by no means was she foolish enough to think she knew all of them. So she started systematically searching for him in all the usual places, intending to scour the palace from top to bottom until she found him.

A good while later, she was almost ready to give up when a crooked tapestry caught her attention from the corner of her eye and she paused, the sight of it sparking a memory. Changing course, she strode down the servants hall and slid the hanging aside, finding the tiny door hidden behind it. A push got her nowhere, but the tell-tale tingle of magic against her palm told her she might have found something after all. Sif frowned and tried the handle again, but this time it turned, as if whatever had rejected her first attempt had spent itself in the process and she pushed the door open and climbed inside, closing and locking the door behind her, just in case.

The room was small, holding only a small narrow bed, a few scattered pieces of furniture… and Loki. Sif crossed her arms, blocking the doorway as she regarded him impassively.

“You’re a very difficult person to locate sometimes, you know that?”

[thunders]

Between Loki's room and his own, Thor saw no one, not even servants moving in the great shadows along the walls. He was glad for it when he finally shut the door behind him and caught sight of himself in the mirror. He had tugged on his clothing nearly blind, mind elsewhere, but now he didn't know how he'd failed to notice the large blood stain dried nearly black on his sleeve, smaller drops and flecks of it on his armor and in his skin.

He wanted to bathe but he didn't have time for it. If not for the blood, he wouldn't have bothered to change either, but he couldn't -- he couldn't see the Allfather like this.

He took the time to wash the blood from his hands and rake his fingers through his hair. What would he tell his father? The truth? He had thought of little besides putting an end to Loki's suffering, and that wasn't an acceptable answer, not for Odin, but Thor didn't know what other answer he could give. He was not like Loki. He could not say that his actions were meant to be more than they seemed.

Perhaps if he explained it all plainly, from the start.

On his bed beside Mjolnir, a formal tunic had been laid out for him, red with gold embroidery. Though he didn't remember calling for it, it was clean and convenient, and smelled faintly of the flowers in his mother's garden. He pulled it on first and took Mjolnir's haft again. He would do what he could. He had no more time to brood on this.

--

He went directly to his father's chambers, barely noting that the guards were missing this morning. Odin was waiting for him. Thor just caught the movement of his hand as he rested it against the arm of his chair, and the tension in his fingers as they closed about it.

He knew this was not court, but he dropped to one knee automatically and set Mjolnir between them.

"Father," He swallowed, head bowed, feeling all at once young and small under Odin's gaze. "I know that I have been foolish and arrogant - I have disobeyed you." He cursed the clumsiness of his tongue, but forged on. "I will explain it all and bear any punishment but please, father, I am solely responsible for my decisions. I..."

"You are responsible for your decisions," Odin agreed, and Thor's head jerked upward before he could help himself. "But that does not mean that you will be the only one to bear out the consequences, regardless of whether you have been foolish or wise." Odin's eye narrowed at him, forestalling the protest that rose to his tongue. "Regardless of whether it is just or necessary. It will not wait until you are king."

This caught him off guard. He didn't know what Odin meant. Thor's own eyes narrowed. "Father, with all due respect - A king can do as he pleases, especially when it is just. Asgard is strong."

"You would start a war over this?" Odin shot back sharply, and Thor dropped his gaze, the sting of guilt and shame as vivid as a lash. "A king does what he must. A boy does as he pleases." Odin's next words were quiet, tinged with something he didn't quite understand. "You're not a boy any longer, Thor Odinson."

Some other time, the words would have brought him pride, or he would have argued that he had not been a boy for some time, but now they seemed to settle on his shoulders like stones. He was not a king yet, either, but this was what it meant. It was not just punishment - Odin had been unwilling to risk war, and that made him unable to protect his own sons. In time, Thor would face the same sort of choice: those he loved, or those who were sworn to him. Being King would not be a grand freedom. It would be this.

In time, every action would be borne by all of Asgard.

The weight of it seemed suddenly stifling.

Odin's gaze lifted, narrowing at the door as if he saw something Thor did not. Thor knew that look. He rose automatically, but Odin raised a hand to forestall him and gestured once. "Stay, and be silent."

He moved to stand behind his father, Mjolnir heavy in his hands, and for once did as he was told without protest. They were not finished yet. He turned wearily to the door, not sure if he hoped the interruption would be quick or never ending.

[shield_maiden]

Her first hunt for Thor hadn't given her many results, but it had gotten her a lot of strange looks. Postponing her search, Sif slipped back to the suite of rooms she had in the palace, taking several minutes to clean up and change into clothing that hadn't been slept in or bled on.

Feeling more herself, she started up again, but it didn't take her long to figure out where Thor had landed himself, not with the way the bright afternoon sun had vanished behind a roiling fury of stormclouds. Altering her course brought her out into the training courtyard just as thunder rumbled threateningly overhead. It drew her gaze upwards a moment before looking back as her prince let his might hammer fly, obliterating one of the training dummies with a blow.

She applauded the move softly, striding casually towards him as the hammer flew unerringly back to his grip, her expression thoughtful.

"Getting acquainted, are we?"

Three weeks later

[complicatedliar]

A little more than three weeks later, Loki returned to the court. He simply appeared at breakfast one day as if it was no different from any other, calmly eating a bowl of fruit next to his mother.

It caused a stir, of course. But after three weeks, a lot of momentum had been lost on the gossip about his public punishment. And since he wasn't horribly disfigured, there was the expected hissing about him being a dishonest magician and a cheat, but it wasn't nearly as good for fodder as a few horrible scars would have been.

And if any of it bothered Loki or even reached his ears, he gave absolutely no sign. He gave the gossips no help by being annoyingly, persistently normal in every thing he did.

Well, nearly everything. He still seemed quite adept at avoiding Thor when there wasn't a large crowd around them. But that wasn't something anyone but Thor, Sif, and the Warriors knew. Loki had always been adept at escaping activities he didn't like and making it seem like a natural occurrence.

But even Loki knew that he couldn't avoid his brother forever.

It wasn't that he was angry any more. That had bled off for the most part after the first few days. The satisfaction of having broken Thor's nose had helped a little with that. The worst of the nightmares had ceased as well.

There was no logical reason behind it, and Loki could quietly admit that to himself. But logical or no, he had done his best to place Thor at the same polite distance he kept everyone in the court at. Distance was safe. Distance meant that no one could hurt you unless you were foolish enough to let them.

And he also knew it was illogical, to think that he could act as he had implied he would, as Thor's under hand. Not with that distance intact. But he was beginning to doubt his conviction there, as well. Nothing felt right any more. His life no longer seemed to fit, and all that alteration had required was a needle and a little bit of twine.