![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
batsutousaiTitle: Clouds In My Coffee
Fandom: Marvel (movie 'verse) & Real Person Fiction
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: T+
Pairings: Loki/Tom Hiddleston
Challenge: 30 Day OTP Challenge
Summary: For a challenge, 30 days of Tomki/FrostPudding.
Chapter Warnings: Broken!Loki, character death, battlefield, angst, hurt/comfort, BAMF!Tom
A/N: Darkflowerdreaming (tumblr) requested broken!Loki, and since I was coming up with squat for this day, I took what my mind gave me for her request. So, I'm afraid to say, this eye gazing isn't nearly as romantic as I think the original challenge prompted intended... ^.^"
Since it's in the warnings, I'll soothe some certain fears here by saying Thor and Odin are the ones who die. Loki and Tom both survive.
I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!! *shame* It's a bit of a long fill, and I spent most of today either travelling between my parents' houses or entertaining. And then, some people on tumblr – who shall remain nameless, though there were a couple of you, so share the blame – wouldn't stop reblogging things. *stare*I have problems with leaving tumblr alone when I have new posts to look at. Partially my fault. I blame you people anyway. I finally just closed my browser and turned off my mobile so twitter/email notifications wouldn't distract me.
Because of how long this took me to finish, I didn't bother looking it over for mistakes. I apologise in advance for my shoddy attempts at writing in my native tongue. *shame*
- Day Twenty-Five: Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes -
He'd been living with Thomas for almost two years when the request came. They had been out in the city they were in for filming, seeing the sights (Thomas) and leaving mischief in their wake (Loki), when Muninn had landed easily on Loki's shoulder. Thomas let out a noise of surprise at the sudden appearance of what appeared to be a tamed raven. Loki, for his part, made no outward sign of his surprise at the raven's appearance, though it had been unexpected. (After he had moved in with Thomas, Odin made no motions towards contacting him, apparently pleased to let Loki do as he would under the guidance of the mortal who shared his visage.)
Muninn cocked his head, glancing between the two men as though to ensure he'd chosen the correct one, then pressed his beak into Loki's ear and whispered his message: "War has been declared; you are requested in Asgard so your skills might ease the battle."
"With whom?" Loki asked, frowning. He had not even known his home was looking at the possibility of a war. And for Odin to request his presence meant they were facing an enemy with sorcerers at their disposal.
"Svartálfaheim," Muninn whispered.
Ah, he thought. I had forgotten that treaty would be ending so soon. But would the Svartálfar not have preferred to renew? Have the Dvergar finally convinced them they would be better putting an end to Asgard?
"Loki?" Thomas called, worried. "What's wrong?"
Loki blinked at the mortal. "The treaty with Svartálfaheim has come to an end, and it seems the dwarves have finally managed to keep the dark elves from signing a new one. Asgard is at war."
Understanding and sorrow darkened Thomas' eyes. "You have to return to Asgard," he said, not needing to ask. It would always amaze Loki, just a little bit, how easily his mortal read him. (Sometimes, when Thomas stopped his mischief, Loki really hated the mortal's ability to read him, but he liked knowing he couldn't hide from his lover far more often than not.)
"I appears so," Loki agreed before turning to Muninn. "I shall follow within the day."
Muninn inclined his head, then took off.
Thomas slipped his hand into Loki's and asked, "Back to the hotel?"
"I think that might be best."
Thomas smiled and they set off without another word.
~
As soon as Loki arrived in Asgard, he was set to work. Too much of the war was taking place on Asgardian soil, and he was needed to fortify the protections of the city before rushing out to the battlefields to act as a counter to magical attacks and a field healer. The latter two roles were ones he was well-familiar with, having grown up amongst a people inclined towards battle. He was plenty capable as a warrior on the field, but his skill set made him more valuable as a sorcerer and healer than a warrior. In his youth, he had chaffed at what he'd believed to be a sign that he was the lesser son, but age had taught him there was value in every role on the battlefield.
For most of the following days in the field, he was kept nearer the back, where the wounded were brought and the other sorcerers and sorceresses gathered to defend as a group against magical attack. However, one afternoon, a call came for him to join the northern front. He made haste and found Thor there, covered head to toe in blood not his own and wearing Odin's helmet.
"Father is dead," Thor said without preamble, expression grim. "It was a sorcerer that took him, and I have none of your or his skill in facing such magic."
"You intend to avenge him?" Loki asked, for once not arguing Odin's claim to parenthood over him; one did not debate the words of the dead unless they travelled to the land in which they rested and did so to their face.
"I do, and with you at my side. It is your right, Loki," Thor insisted.
Loki stared at his king – for Thor now was king of Asgard, and Loki was ever a subject of the Eternal Realm, no matter his true parentage – until Thor looked away, expression wounded. Then he said, "Lead on, then, Brother."
Thor's grim expression lightened slightly and he clapped a hand on Loki's shoulder. "Together, Brother," he said, and pulled Loki along until he walked easily at the thunderer's side, rather than behind him, as had always been his preference. This was Thor's way of saying, 'Not in my shadow, but as my equal,' Loki knew, and he was torn between hating and loving him for it.
The battle, when they found it, was not an easy one. The sorcerer who had finished Odin Allfather was accompanied by two talented swordsmen. Thor seemed to have no concern in facing them – he never thought he might have met his match – and Loki was too busy trading magical attacks with the sorcerer to bother watching out for his king.
While the enemy sorcerer was talented, he was not anywhere near Loki's level. Or, well, he wouldn't have been, had Loki been fresh. But he'd spent the last two weeks shoring up magical fortifications and assisting on the field, and he was tiring. His enemy was nearly fresh, likely having been kept in reserve for the moment when Odin would let down his guard enough to strike the decisive blow. So his opponent was on par with Loki, magic-wise, possibly even just the slightest bit more capable. Or he would have been more capable, had Loki not had one advantage that few knew of: his Jötun heritage.
At Thomas' prompting, Loki had been practising with his birthright, learning to wield it for mischief, usually, but also in a fight just such as this. And now, when his enemy believed Loki to be defeated – his magical reserves too low for any further spellwork beyond his favoured tricks of deception, which would only draw out his end, as they both knew – and let down his guard, Loki closed his eyes and called to the ice held deep within his soul. He heard the ragged gasp as blue bled over his features, and then the choked cry as ice stabbed up from the ground that had frozen around Loki to pierce his enemy's heart.
Proving again his worth, Thomas had saved Loki before he even knew it would be needed.
Loki turned his attention to Thor in time to see one of his enemies land a mortal blow to Asgard's king as he finished off the other. Something caught in Loki's chest as Thor fell to his knees, Mjölnir falling to the blood-covered ground as he clasped both hands over the wound.
"So weak," the final enemy said, his voice just barely carrying over an odd roaring sound that filled Loki's ears. "I'll be doing Asgard a favour, killing their new king." And then he swung his sword to remove Thor's head.
Loki didn't even realised he'd moved until his frozen hand was buried in the man's chest, clenched tight around his heart. He tore it out and the man crumpled to the ground with a gurgle, blood melting through the hole made without thought through both armour and skin.
Loki turned to Thor, then, their enemy's heart falling thoughtlessly from his grasp. He caught Thor as he tilted to one side, pressed one blue hand to where Thor's covered his wounds and tried to will it to freeze over enough to get him to a healer, to save him, because Loki couldn't just sit back and watch his brother die. Not now, not like this.
"Loki, Loki, no," Thor breathed out, lips smiling under heavy eyes. He reached up a hand covered in his own blood and pressed it to Loki's cheek. "It's okay. Let me go."
Loki shook his head, unable to get out any words through the chant of, "Brother, Brother, Brother," that he hadn't noticed begin falling from his lips.
Thor's smile just widened. "No more shadows, my king," he said before his hand fell from Loki's cheek, eyes dulling with death.
A howl of anguish cut through the battlefield, and Loki curled around his brother's body.
It took him a while to realise that the howl was him and force his mouth closed over the noise.
Around him, the battles died away, and he didn't realise why until a voice distorted by something solid blocking it asked, "Loki?"
"Go away," he rasped out, then clenched his teeth shut over the howl still tickling the back of his throat. His skin still blue with the mark of his heritage, was it any surprise such animalistic reactions would claw at him?
"My pr– king," the voice said, stumbling over the word, and Loki flinched away from it, curling tighter around Thor, "you need to let us in."
Let them in? Loki uncurled his body and looked up to find that ice had grown up to surround himself and Thor, thick enough that he could barely make out the colours of armour on the other side. He'd been cut off from the world, let alone with his grief and a burden he didn't want. King. I am king of Asgard.
He flinched again, trying to escape the thought, but it followed him and he couldn't–
NO!
Lightning crackled around him and Loki had taken Mjölnir in hand before he could fully think about it and used what magic lay in the hammer to allow him to slip into the branches of Yggdrasil, which he then followed to the only place he felt safe.
~
Thomas was curled up on the couch when Loki finally tumbled through the hole he'd created long ago in their living room. He jerked in surprise, then jumped to his feet with a gasp of, "Loki!" and dashed to Loki's side.
Thomas stopped just shy of touching him – likely afraid the drying blood staining his armour was his own and unwilling to hurt him further – but Loki had no such compunctions and fell into Thomas' welcoming arms, curling against his chest and finally letting fall the sobs that had begun plaguing him once the urge to howl and scream had faded.
"Loki, my love, what has happened?" Thomas whispered, but he didn't seem to expect a response as he began rocking them side-to-side, murmuring, "I love you. You're safe now. I'll keep you safe. It's okay."
And it was a lie, all a lie, because Thomas couldn't protect Loki against anything that might be chasing him, and it wasn't okay, it would never be okay, and didn't Thomas know that?
"I've got you," Thomas said, and that was truthful, at least. "I'm here, I've got you."
Loki closed his eyes and let himself fall into the reaching abyss, secure in the knowledge that Thomas was there. Because maybe it wasn't okay, maybe Thomas was no protection from Loki's enemies, but Loki didn't need protection, he just needed to be held and loved without question, and that much, Thomas could always provide.
~
He woke to the comfort of a familiar bed. Thomas' side was still warm, but quite empty, and Loki blinked a bit dumbly at it. Thomas had never managed to leave their bed without waking him in the past, and Loki hadn't thought it would ever be possible. Not unless Loki was so magically exhausted that he couldn't even make it into the bed on his–
Oh. Thor's dead.
Grief slammed into him like a meteor, and Loki turned over until he could bury his face in Thomas' pillows and breath in his scent, as though his mere smell might bestow his easy calm upon Loki's shredded heart. Everything had fallen to pieces around him, and the only thing Loki had left was this foolish mortal.
Where's Thomas? he wondered, and the grief was pushed away by that question. Thomas had said he 'had' Loki, and did that not mean he would remain with him until he was sure Loki was well? He'd clearly been sleeping next to him, and he can't have been gone long.
Loki became aware, then, of voices in the main room of the flat. It was quite telling that such had evaded his notice for so long; he was extremely tired. Or you really do feel safe here, his mind helpfully suggested and Loki scoffed at the thought even as he climbed out of the bed and moved on trembling legs to the bedroom doorway, interested to know who Thomas conversed with.
"–back to Asgard," a familiar feminine voice said, and Loki tensed at hearing who he knew to be Sif, and not her human counterpart.
"No," said Thomas, voice firm and unyielding.
"It is his duty as ki–"
"No," Thomas said again.
"Mortal, you do not underst–"
"You can leave now."
"–and the gravity of the sit–"
"Oh, I understand," Thomas said, voice icy, and Volstagg finally shut up at that tone. "You said the war that Loki was called back to Asgard for is coming to a close. Sounds to me like he can come home."
"Yes," said Sif, sounding relieved. "He needs to come home so–"
"He is home."
The was an extended silence from however many Æsir had come to Thomas and Loki's flat, and Loki loved Thomas so much for being able to shut them up so easily.
Finally, Thomas sighed. "He's staying here until he wants to go back to Asgard. And nothing you four can say will change that. Are the Nine Realms going to fall to pieces if he doesn't return right this minute?"
"...no..." Sif admitted.
"Then you need to leave."
"He is our king and he is need–"
"The last time he was your king, you betrayed him," Thomas snapped, and there was no ice in his anger this time, only fire so hot it burned.
"He stole that throne!" Sif snapped.
"I really don't care," Thomas returned, words still heated with fury, "how he won the throne either time, and I don't much care that he supposedly has it right now. If his absence isn't going to throw the Nine Realms into chaos – which, if we're all being honest here, is probably more likely while he's on the throne – then he stays here. Now, I am respectfully asking you to leave. For the last time."
"And if we don't?" Volstagg challenged.
"I stop being respectful."
Fandral let out an obnoxious laugh. "And what does a mere mortal think he can do against us?"
"This 'mere mortal' has been living with the God of Mischief for the last two years."
There was a shuffle of feet out in the landing in front of the door of their flat. "We'll be back, Midgardian," Sif said, tone threatening.
"I'll make sure to set up the welcoming committee," Thomas replied, obnoxiously cheerful. And if that wasn't a threat, Loki didn't know what was.
The front door fell closed and the bolt slid home before Thomas let out a tired sigh. "Fuck," he whispered, just loud enough for Loki to hear.
Loki crept around the mostly closed bedroom door and took in the sight of Thomas, leaning back against the front door, rubbing a hand over his face. His hair looked as though he'd been running his hands through it in agitation, and the trousers hanging low on his hips had clearly been thrown on in a hurry. He looked tired and worn around the edges, and Loki didn't have to ask to know it was his fault.
"Thomas?" he called softly.
Thomas' head came up so fast it was a wonder he didn't get whiplash. Concern twisted his expression and he pushed away from the door and hurried around strategically placed furniture to get to Loki. "Hey," he said as he reached the god and gently cupped Loki's cheek with one hand. "You should be in bed."
"I am not ill," Loki snarled, remembering well the only time he had caught the Midgardian 'cold' and spent a week being absolutely miserable, Thomas constantly ordering him back to bed.
Thomas' other hand rested gently over Loki's heart as he locked eyes with the god. "There are many kinds of illness, Loki," he said was a quiet certainty that shattered the cloak of anger Loki had hastily drawn around himself as a strength. He slouched and Thomas wasted no time before pulling him forward, against his chest. "I've got you," he said and Loki reached out with his hands to clutch at the human.
Thomas' heart beat steadily under Loki's ear, and it drew the haunting memory of Thor's body, silent in Loki's grief. He pressed tighter against the human, and Thomas didn't complain, only tightened his arms around Loki.
"I don't want to be king," Loki whispered, the last word ending on a sob.
"I know," Thomas whispered back, and Loki knew he did.
"I don't..." Loki closed his mouth on the words, then closed his eyes and admitted, "I don't want to go back."
"Then don't," Thomas said, so simple and unconcerned.
"They'll come back."
Thomas snorted a laugh. "Loki, the only person who has ever been able to make you do something you didn't want to do is you."
It was very much true, though there were those who could talk Loki around: Thor, Odin, Frigga, Thomas... Two were dead, one had to remain in Asgard in his absence, and the last...
"Let's get you back to bed," Thomas said.
The last wasn't of the mind to talk him into anything.
~
Sif and the Warriors Three returned a week later. Thomas had booby-trapped the landing outside their flat with Loki's help and they both listened from the couch as the four Æsir cursed in the hallway for a good ten minutes before leaving without ever reaching their door.
Thomas brushed his fingers through Loki's hair, voice amused as he said, "I don't think they'll be back."
"Until something endangers the Nine Realms," Loki said, voice bland. He'd allowed himself to feel very little emotion since he'd returned. Thomas had kept him distracted with films from his collection and stories about his family and friends that he'd gathered during Loki's time away. There had been no mention of Thomas' work, and Loki suspected the human had requested some holiday time while he'd been sleeping the first time.
Thomas shrugged at Loki's words. "So you leave with them, take care of it, then come home. Preferably without them."
Loki's mouth quirked against his will and Thomas' chest shook with silent humour at his back. "I think I can manage that," he said drily and Thomas' laughter filled the room.
~
Another week passed and Loki could finally think about his brother's death without feeling like he either wanted to scream or cry. He stopped keeping such a tight rein on his emotions, and Thomas managed to draw quite a few laughs from him.
After another week, Loki stopped hiding at all, and it was as though he'd never left. As though Thor wasn't dead and Loki owner of a kingship he'd never wanted.
One evening, curled up on the couch as another film's credits ran, Loki said, "I don't want it."
Thomas raised an eyebrow at him. "Want what?"
"The throne."
"I know," Thomas said, as simply as he had the first time.
"But there's no one else," Loki said.
Thomas was silent for a long moment, then he shifted until he could see Loki's face. "There's always someone else willing to take a throne, or you would have no one to rule," he pointed out logically. "Could your mother not take it?"
Loki shook his head. "She is a woman."
"Well, that's stupid."
Loki huffed out a laugh. "I don't make the laws."
"You do now."
Loki jerked his head up so he could see the human leaning over him. The blue-green eyes were steady with a hint of amusement. "I do," he said, oddly surprised.
"So I'll ask again, 'Could Frigga not take the throne?' You trust her, and the Æsir already love her more than enough to follow her without complaint."
Loki shook his head. "Her magic isn't strong enough," he said, and his heart was sinking. "The ruler has to be able to sustain Asgard. Odin had his magic, Thor Mjölnir's." He looked to where the hammer rested innocently next to the television, where Thomas had set it after getting Loki to bed. With Odin and Thor both dead, the geas decreeing worth had vanished, and now anyone could use the fabled weapon. It hurt Loki to look at it, and he swallowed before looking back up at Thomas' gaze, grim with a fact that Loki didn't even need to voice for the mortal to know. "I can't sustain Asgard from Midgard."
"I know," Thomas admitted, and closed his eyes. "I've known since Sif said you were the king."
Three weeks, and the mortal hadn't once tried to remind Loki of his duty.
He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. "I need to go back," he said.
"I know," Thomas repeated, quiet to hide how much the words hurt him.
"Come with me?" Loki requested, pleaded. Because he couldn't face Asgard alone, not now, not ever.
"Loki, you know I can't just leave everyo–"
"You said you'd keep me safe!" Loki spat, turning to glare at the human. "How can you do that from another realm?!" Three weeks ago, Loki had thought Thomas had lied to say he would keep Loki safe and that it would be okay. But then the mortal had faced down Sif and the Warriors Three, had let Loki work through his grief and sudden duty on his own, had supported him by never leaving his side.
Thomas hadn't lied.
Thomas stared at him with a blank expression.
Loki turned away, biting back against the sob climbing his chest as he saw the last thing he had slipping away. "Fine," he snapped. "F–"
"Okay," Thomas interrupted.
Loki froze, half off the couch, his anger gone before he could even hope to hold it around the crumbling remains of his heart.
Thomas moved until he was crouched in front of Loki, apology and love warring in his blue-green eyes. "I'm coming. Give me time to call my family to say goodbye?"
And then Loki understood: Thomas hadn't been saying no, he'd been choosing between Loki and his mortal family.
Loki had won.
Thomas' hands cupped Loki's face. "Loki?"
Loki smiled like he'd never discovered he was a Jötun, fallen through the Void, and watched his brother die.
For the first time in almost a decade, staring into blue-green eyes set in a face that was a mirror of his own, he felt whole.
Days:
1 - Holding Hands ||| 2 - Cuddling Somewhere ||| 3 - Gaming ||| 4 - On a Date ||| 5 - Kissing
6 - Wearing Each Other's Clothing ||| 7 - Cosplaying ||| 8 - Shopping ||| 9 - Hanging Out With Friends ||| 10 - With Animal Ears
11 - Wearing Kigurumi ||| 12 - Making Out ||| 13 - Eating Ice Cream ||| 14 - Genderswapped ||| 15 - Different Clothing Style
16 - Morning Rituals ||| 17 - Spooning ||| 18 - Doing Something Together ||| 19 - In Formal Wear ||| 20 - Dancing
21 - Cooking/Baking ||| 22 - In Battle, Side-By-Side ||| 23 - Arguing ||| 24 - Making Up After |||25 - Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes
26 - Getting Married ||| 27 - Birthday ||| 28 - Something Ridiculous ||| 29 - Something Sweet ||| 30 - Something Hot
Masterlist
..
Fandom: Marvel (movie 'verse) & Real Person Fiction
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: T+
Pairings: Loki/Tom Hiddleston
Challenge: 30 Day OTP Challenge
Summary: For a challenge, 30 days of Tomki/FrostPudding.
Chapter Warnings: Broken!Loki, character death, battlefield, angst, hurt/comfort, BAMF!Tom
A/N: Darkflowerdreaming (tumblr) requested broken!Loki, and since I was coming up with squat for this day, I took what my mind gave me for her request. So, I'm afraid to say, this eye gazing isn't nearly as romantic as I think the original challenge prompted intended... ^.^"
Since it's in the warnings, I'll soothe some certain fears here by saying Thor and Odin are the ones who die. Loki and Tom both survive.
I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!! *shame* It's a bit of a long fill, and I spent most of today either travelling between my parents' houses or entertaining. And then, some people on tumblr – who shall remain nameless, though there were a couple of you, so share the blame – wouldn't stop reblogging things. *stare*
Because of how long this took me to finish, I didn't bother looking it over for mistakes. I apologise in advance for my shoddy attempts at writing in my native tongue. *shame*
He'd been living with Thomas for almost two years when the request came. They had been out in the city they were in for filming, seeing the sights (Thomas) and leaving mischief in their wake (Loki), when Muninn had landed easily on Loki's shoulder. Thomas let out a noise of surprise at the sudden appearance of what appeared to be a tamed raven. Loki, for his part, made no outward sign of his surprise at the raven's appearance, though it had been unexpected. (After he had moved in with Thomas, Odin made no motions towards contacting him, apparently pleased to let Loki do as he would under the guidance of the mortal who shared his visage.)
Muninn cocked his head, glancing between the two men as though to ensure he'd chosen the correct one, then pressed his beak into Loki's ear and whispered his message: "War has been declared; you are requested in Asgard so your skills might ease the battle."
"With whom?" Loki asked, frowning. He had not even known his home was looking at the possibility of a war. And for Odin to request his presence meant they were facing an enemy with sorcerers at their disposal.
"Svartálfaheim," Muninn whispered.
Ah, he thought. I had forgotten that treaty would be ending so soon. But would the Svartálfar not have preferred to renew? Have the Dvergar finally convinced them they would be better putting an end to Asgard?
"Loki?" Thomas called, worried. "What's wrong?"
Loki blinked at the mortal. "The treaty with Svartálfaheim has come to an end, and it seems the dwarves have finally managed to keep the dark elves from signing a new one. Asgard is at war."
Understanding and sorrow darkened Thomas' eyes. "You have to return to Asgard," he said, not needing to ask. It would always amaze Loki, just a little bit, how easily his mortal read him. (Sometimes, when Thomas stopped his mischief, Loki really hated the mortal's ability to read him, but he liked knowing he couldn't hide from his lover far more often than not.)
"I appears so," Loki agreed before turning to Muninn. "I shall follow within the day."
Muninn inclined his head, then took off.
Thomas slipped his hand into Loki's and asked, "Back to the hotel?"
"I think that might be best."
Thomas smiled and they set off without another word.
~
As soon as Loki arrived in Asgard, he was set to work. Too much of the war was taking place on Asgardian soil, and he was needed to fortify the protections of the city before rushing out to the battlefields to act as a counter to magical attacks and a field healer. The latter two roles were ones he was well-familiar with, having grown up amongst a people inclined towards battle. He was plenty capable as a warrior on the field, but his skill set made him more valuable as a sorcerer and healer than a warrior. In his youth, he had chaffed at what he'd believed to be a sign that he was the lesser son, but age had taught him there was value in every role on the battlefield.
For most of the following days in the field, he was kept nearer the back, where the wounded were brought and the other sorcerers and sorceresses gathered to defend as a group against magical attack. However, one afternoon, a call came for him to join the northern front. He made haste and found Thor there, covered head to toe in blood not his own and wearing Odin's helmet.
"Father is dead," Thor said without preamble, expression grim. "It was a sorcerer that took him, and I have none of your or his skill in facing such magic."
"You intend to avenge him?" Loki asked, for once not arguing Odin's claim to parenthood over him; one did not debate the words of the dead unless they travelled to the land in which they rested and did so to their face.
"I do, and with you at my side. It is your right, Loki," Thor insisted.
Loki stared at his king – for Thor now was king of Asgard, and Loki was ever a subject of the Eternal Realm, no matter his true parentage – until Thor looked away, expression wounded. Then he said, "Lead on, then, Brother."
Thor's grim expression lightened slightly and he clapped a hand on Loki's shoulder. "Together, Brother," he said, and pulled Loki along until he walked easily at the thunderer's side, rather than behind him, as had always been his preference. This was Thor's way of saying, 'Not in my shadow, but as my equal,' Loki knew, and he was torn between hating and loving him for it.
The battle, when they found it, was not an easy one. The sorcerer who had finished Odin Allfather was accompanied by two talented swordsmen. Thor seemed to have no concern in facing them – he never thought he might have met his match – and Loki was too busy trading magical attacks with the sorcerer to bother watching out for his king.
While the enemy sorcerer was talented, he was not anywhere near Loki's level. Or, well, he wouldn't have been, had Loki been fresh. But he'd spent the last two weeks shoring up magical fortifications and assisting on the field, and he was tiring. His enemy was nearly fresh, likely having been kept in reserve for the moment when Odin would let down his guard enough to strike the decisive blow. So his opponent was on par with Loki, magic-wise, possibly even just the slightest bit more capable. Or he would have been more capable, had Loki not had one advantage that few knew of: his Jötun heritage.
At Thomas' prompting, Loki had been practising with his birthright, learning to wield it for mischief, usually, but also in a fight just such as this. And now, when his enemy believed Loki to be defeated – his magical reserves too low for any further spellwork beyond his favoured tricks of deception, which would only draw out his end, as they both knew – and let down his guard, Loki closed his eyes and called to the ice held deep within his soul. He heard the ragged gasp as blue bled over his features, and then the choked cry as ice stabbed up from the ground that had frozen around Loki to pierce his enemy's heart.
Proving again his worth, Thomas had saved Loki before he even knew it would be needed.
Loki turned his attention to Thor in time to see one of his enemies land a mortal blow to Asgard's king as he finished off the other. Something caught in Loki's chest as Thor fell to his knees, Mjölnir falling to the blood-covered ground as he clasped both hands over the wound.
"So weak," the final enemy said, his voice just barely carrying over an odd roaring sound that filled Loki's ears. "I'll be doing Asgard a favour, killing their new king." And then he swung his sword to remove Thor's head.
Loki didn't even realised he'd moved until his frozen hand was buried in the man's chest, clenched tight around his heart. He tore it out and the man crumpled to the ground with a gurgle, blood melting through the hole made without thought through both armour and skin.
Loki turned to Thor, then, their enemy's heart falling thoughtlessly from his grasp. He caught Thor as he tilted to one side, pressed one blue hand to where Thor's covered his wounds and tried to will it to freeze over enough to get him to a healer, to save him, because Loki couldn't just sit back and watch his brother die. Not now, not like this.
"Loki, Loki, no," Thor breathed out, lips smiling under heavy eyes. He reached up a hand covered in his own blood and pressed it to Loki's cheek. "It's okay. Let me go."
Loki shook his head, unable to get out any words through the chant of, "Brother, Brother, Brother," that he hadn't noticed begin falling from his lips.
Thor's smile just widened. "No more shadows, my king," he said before his hand fell from Loki's cheek, eyes dulling with death.
A howl of anguish cut through the battlefield, and Loki curled around his brother's body.
It took him a while to realise that the howl was him and force his mouth closed over the noise.
Around him, the battles died away, and he didn't realise why until a voice distorted by something solid blocking it asked, "Loki?"
"Go away," he rasped out, then clenched his teeth shut over the howl still tickling the back of his throat. His skin still blue with the mark of his heritage, was it any surprise such animalistic reactions would claw at him?
"My pr– king," the voice said, stumbling over the word, and Loki flinched away from it, curling tighter around Thor, "you need to let us in."
Let them in? Loki uncurled his body and looked up to find that ice had grown up to surround himself and Thor, thick enough that he could barely make out the colours of armour on the other side. He'd been cut off from the world, let alone with his grief and a burden he didn't want. King. I am king of Asgard.
He flinched again, trying to escape the thought, but it followed him and he couldn't–
NO!
Lightning crackled around him and Loki had taken Mjölnir in hand before he could fully think about it and used what magic lay in the hammer to allow him to slip into the branches of Yggdrasil, which he then followed to the only place he felt safe.
~
Thomas was curled up on the couch when Loki finally tumbled through the hole he'd created long ago in their living room. He jerked in surprise, then jumped to his feet with a gasp of, "Loki!" and dashed to Loki's side.
Thomas stopped just shy of touching him – likely afraid the drying blood staining his armour was his own and unwilling to hurt him further – but Loki had no such compunctions and fell into Thomas' welcoming arms, curling against his chest and finally letting fall the sobs that had begun plaguing him once the urge to howl and scream had faded.
"Loki, my love, what has happened?" Thomas whispered, but he didn't seem to expect a response as he began rocking them side-to-side, murmuring, "I love you. You're safe now. I'll keep you safe. It's okay."
And it was a lie, all a lie, because Thomas couldn't protect Loki against anything that might be chasing him, and it wasn't okay, it would never be okay, and didn't Thomas know that?
"I've got you," Thomas said, and that was truthful, at least. "I'm here, I've got you."
Loki closed his eyes and let himself fall into the reaching abyss, secure in the knowledge that Thomas was there. Because maybe it wasn't okay, maybe Thomas was no protection from Loki's enemies, but Loki didn't need protection, he just needed to be held and loved without question, and that much, Thomas could always provide.
~
He woke to the comfort of a familiar bed. Thomas' side was still warm, but quite empty, and Loki blinked a bit dumbly at it. Thomas had never managed to leave their bed without waking him in the past, and Loki hadn't thought it would ever be possible. Not unless Loki was so magically exhausted that he couldn't even make it into the bed on his–
Oh. Thor's dead.
Grief slammed into him like a meteor, and Loki turned over until he could bury his face in Thomas' pillows and breath in his scent, as though his mere smell might bestow his easy calm upon Loki's shredded heart. Everything had fallen to pieces around him, and the only thing Loki had left was this foolish mortal.
Where's Thomas? he wondered, and the grief was pushed away by that question. Thomas had said he 'had' Loki, and did that not mean he would remain with him until he was sure Loki was well? He'd clearly been sleeping next to him, and he can't have been gone long.
Loki became aware, then, of voices in the main room of the flat. It was quite telling that such had evaded his notice for so long; he was extremely tired. Or you really do feel safe here, his mind helpfully suggested and Loki scoffed at the thought even as he climbed out of the bed and moved on trembling legs to the bedroom doorway, interested to know who Thomas conversed with.
"–back to Asgard," a familiar feminine voice said, and Loki tensed at hearing who he knew to be Sif, and not her human counterpart.
"No," said Thomas, voice firm and unyielding.
"It is his duty as ki–"
"No," Thomas said again.
"Mortal, you do not underst–"
"You can leave now."
"–and the gravity of the sit–"
"Oh, I understand," Thomas said, voice icy, and Volstagg finally shut up at that tone. "You said the war that Loki was called back to Asgard for is coming to a close. Sounds to me like he can come home."
"Yes," said Sif, sounding relieved. "He needs to come home so–"
"He is home."
The was an extended silence from however many Æsir had come to Thomas and Loki's flat, and Loki loved Thomas so much for being able to shut them up so easily.
Finally, Thomas sighed. "He's staying here until he wants to go back to Asgard. And nothing you four can say will change that. Are the Nine Realms going to fall to pieces if he doesn't return right this minute?"
"...no..." Sif admitted.
"Then you need to leave."
"He is our king and he is need–"
"The last time he was your king, you betrayed him," Thomas snapped, and there was no ice in his anger this time, only fire so hot it burned.
"He stole that throne!" Sif snapped.
"I really don't care," Thomas returned, words still heated with fury, "how he won the throne either time, and I don't much care that he supposedly has it right now. If his absence isn't going to throw the Nine Realms into chaos – which, if we're all being honest here, is probably more likely while he's on the throne – then he stays here. Now, I am respectfully asking you to leave. For the last time."
"And if we don't?" Volstagg challenged.
"I stop being respectful."
Fandral let out an obnoxious laugh. "And what does a mere mortal think he can do against us?"
"This 'mere mortal' has been living with the God of Mischief for the last two years."
There was a shuffle of feet out in the landing in front of the door of their flat. "We'll be back, Midgardian," Sif said, tone threatening.
"I'll make sure to set up the welcoming committee," Thomas replied, obnoxiously cheerful. And if that wasn't a threat, Loki didn't know what was.
The front door fell closed and the bolt slid home before Thomas let out a tired sigh. "Fuck," he whispered, just loud enough for Loki to hear.
Loki crept around the mostly closed bedroom door and took in the sight of Thomas, leaning back against the front door, rubbing a hand over his face. His hair looked as though he'd been running his hands through it in agitation, and the trousers hanging low on his hips had clearly been thrown on in a hurry. He looked tired and worn around the edges, and Loki didn't have to ask to know it was his fault.
"Thomas?" he called softly.
Thomas' head came up so fast it was a wonder he didn't get whiplash. Concern twisted his expression and he pushed away from the door and hurried around strategically placed furniture to get to Loki. "Hey," he said as he reached the god and gently cupped Loki's cheek with one hand. "You should be in bed."
"I am not ill," Loki snarled, remembering well the only time he had caught the Midgardian 'cold' and spent a week being absolutely miserable, Thomas constantly ordering him back to bed.
Thomas' other hand rested gently over Loki's heart as he locked eyes with the god. "There are many kinds of illness, Loki," he said was a quiet certainty that shattered the cloak of anger Loki had hastily drawn around himself as a strength. He slouched and Thomas wasted no time before pulling him forward, against his chest. "I've got you," he said and Loki reached out with his hands to clutch at the human.
Thomas' heart beat steadily under Loki's ear, and it drew the haunting memory of Thor's body, silent in Loki's grief. He pressed tighter against the human, and Thomas didn't complain, only tightened his arms around Loki.
"I don't want to be king," Loki whispered, the last word ending on a sob.
"I know," Thomas whispered back, and Loki knew he did.
"I don't..." Loki closed his mouth on the words, then closed his eyes and admitted, "I don't want to go back."
"Then don't," Thomas said, so simple and unconcerned.
"They'll come back."
Thomas snorted a laugh. "Loki, the only person who has ever been able to make you do something you didn't want to do is you."
It was very much true, though there were those who could talk Loki around: Thor, Odin, Frigga, Thomas... Two were dead, one had to remain in Asgard in his absence, and the last...
"Let's get you back to bed," Thomas said.
The last wasn't of the mind to talk him into anything.
~
Sif and the Warriors Three returned a week later. Thomas had booby-trapped the landing outside their flat with Loki's help and they both listened from the couch as the four Æsir cursed in the hallway for a good ten minutes before leaving without ever reaching their door.
Thomas brushed his fingers through Loki's hair, voice amused as he said, "I don't think they'll be back."
"Until something endangers the Nine Realms," Loki said, voice bland. He'd allowed himself to feel very little emotion since he'd returned. Thomas had kept him distracted with films from his collection and stories about his family and friends that he'd gathered during Loki's time away. There had been no mention of Thomas' work, and Loki suspected the human had requested some holiday time while he'd been sleeping the first time.
Thomas shrugged at Loki's words. "So you leave with them, take care of it, then come home. Preferably without them."
Loki's mouth quirked against his will and Thomas' chest shook with silent humour at his back. "I think I can manage that," he said drily and Thomas' laughter filled the room.
~
Another week passed and Loki could finally think about his brother's death without feeling like he either wanted to scream or cry. He stopped keeping such a tight rein on his emotions, and Thomas managed to draw quite a few laughs from him.
After another week, Loki stopped hiding at all, and it was as though he'd never left. As though Thor wasn't dead and Loki owner of a kingship he'd never wanted.
One evening, curled up on the couch as another film's credits ran, Loki said, "I don't want it."
Thomas raised an eyebrow at him. "Want what?"
"The throne."
"I know," Thomas said, as simply as he had the first time.
"But there's no one else," Loki said.
Thomas was silent for a long moment, then he shifted until he could see Loki's face. "There's always someone else willing to take a throne, or you would have no one to rule," he pointed out logically. "Could your mother not take it?"
Loki shook his head. "She is a woman."
"Well, that's stupid."
Loki huffed out a laugh. "I don't make the laws."
"You do now."
Loki jerked his head up so he could see the human leaning over him. The blue-green eyes were steady with a hint of amusement. "I do," he said, oddly surprised.
"So I'll ask again, 'Could Frigga not take the throne?' You trust her, and the Æsir already love her more than enough to follow her without complaint."
Loki shook his head. "Her magic isn't strong enough," he said, and his heart was sinking. "The ruler has to be able to sustain Asgard. Odin had his magic, Thor Mjölnir's." He looked to where the hammer rested innocently next to the television, where Thomas had set it after getting Loki to bed. With Odin and Thor both dead, the geas decreeing worth had vanished, and now anyone could use the fabled weapon. It hurt Loki to look at it, and he swallowed before looking back up at Thomas' gaze, grim with a fact that Loki didn't even need to voice for the mortal to know. "I can't sustain Asgard from Midgard."
"I know," Thomas admitted, and closed his eyes. "I've known since Sif said you were the king."
Three weeks, and the mortal hadn't once tried to remind Loki of his duty.
He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. "I need to go back," he said.
"I know," Thomas repeated, quiet to hide how much the words hurt him.
"Come with me?" Loki requested, pleaded. Because he couldn't face Asgard alone, not now, not ever.
"Loki, you know I can't just leave everyo–"
"You said you'd keep me safe!" Loki spat, turning to glare at the human. "How can you do that from another realm?!" Three weeks ago, Loki had thought Thomas had lied to say he would keep Loki safe and that it would be okay. But then the mortal had faced down Sif and the Warriors Three, had let Loki work through his grief and sudden duty on his own, had supported him by never leaving his side.
Thomas hadn't lied.
Thomas stared at him with a blank expression.
Loki turned away, biting back against the sob climbing his chest as he saw the last thing he had slipping away. "Fine," he snapped. "F–"
"Okay," Thomas interrupted.
Loki froze, half off the couch, his anger gone before he could even hope to hold it around the crumbling remains of his heart.
Thomas moved until he was crouched in front of Loki, apology and love warring in his blue-green eyes. "I'm coming. Give me time to call my family to say goodbye?"
And then Loki understood: Thomas hadn't been saying no, he'd been choosing between Loki and his mortal family.
Loki had won.
Thomas' hands cupped Loki's face. "Loki?"
Loki smiled like he'd never discovered he was a Jötun, fallen through the Void, and watched his brother die.
For the first time in almost a decade, staring into blue-green eyes set in a face that was a mirror of his own, he felt whole.
1 - Holding Hands ||| 2 - Cuddling Somewhere ||| 3 - Gaming ||| 4 - On a Date ||| 5 - Kissing
6 - Wearing Each Other's Clothing ||| 7 - Cosplaying ||| 8 - Shopping ||| 9 - Hanging Out With Friends ||| 10 - With Animal Ears
11 - Wearing Kigurumi ||| 12 - Making Out ||| 13 - Eating Ice Cream ||| 14 - Genderswapped ||| 15 - Different Clothing Style
16 - Morning Rituals ||| 17 - Spooning ||| 18 - Doing Something Together ||| 19 - In Formal Wear ||| 20 - Dancing
21 - Cooking/Baking ||| 22 - In Battle, Side-By-Side ||| 23 - Arguing ||| 24 - Making Up After |||
26 - Getting Married ||| 27 - Birthday ||| 28 - Something Ridiculous ||| 29 - Something Sweet ||| 30 - Something Hot
Masterlist
..
