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It had been barely a week on the Grandmaster’s ship when Valkyrie approached Thor.
“There’s something wrong with your brother,” she said.
Thor sighed. “There has been something wrong with my brother for many years, I am afraid,” he said gravely.
Valkyrie gave a little snort at that. “No kidding,” she laughed, but then her face became serious again. “But for real,” she repeated, and Thor noted a hint of urgency in her voice. “There’s something really wrong with him.”
The Blue was back.
It crept in, like thick oil, polluting Loki’s mind, contaminating him from the inside out. On Asgard, the magical wards of the kingdom had kept him safe, and on Sakaar, he had been beyond Thanos’s sight, but now Asgard was gone and he was back in open space, susceptible to His prying eyes.
He was stronger now than he had been then, a hysterical teenager falling through the void, and though the memories of the torture he had endured had not faded (quite the opposite, in fact), he was no longer in such a desperate position that only a suggestion would be enough to make him gladly fill out His bidding, whatever it may be.
This was not enough. He was foolish to think that it was, and after a few days of grappling with the wispy tendrils of Thanos’s control, all he could do was use his magic to maintain a temporary blockade on it, so that it lay dormant in his mind, like cobwebs on his brain, unable to control him but perhaps (though he had no way of knowing this for sure) able to still see and hear through his eyes and ears.
Loki would not let Him find him again, not when there was so much at risk. Barely half of Asgard’s population remained, crowded on the Grandmaster’s ship, and Thanos would not hesitate to decimate them wholly if it meant He could lay his hands on the Tesseract. Loki considered using the Tesseract to escape but he knew Thor would try to find him and he would not endanger his brother, not after they had finally reached some semblance of reconciliation in the wake of Hela’s carnage.
So he locked himself in his room, placing wards on the door to prevent anyone from entering. He ripped up his pillow, placing cotton in his ears, and fashioned a blindfold from the pillowcase. Then he laid on his bed, and began to think.
“He won’t come out of his room,” Valkyrie explained, leading Thor down a narrow corridor.
“That is not unusual for Loki,” Thor told her. “When we were children, he would oft hole himself in his room for days, burying himself in his studies.”
Valkyrie shook her head. “I figured it was something like that, too- just him being weird, but then-” she pulled a small flask from her sleeve and took a swig, her eyes suddenly distant, “-then I heard him screaming.”
The Blue did not like being restrained.
It pounded on the wards Loki had set, but they did not crumble. It prodded his brain, toyed with it; hijacking his nerves and sending waves of pain to rack his body, but the wards held steady. The Blue whispered to him, alternating between threats- do not think you can hide from us, little Godling, you serve Thanos still and You will wish for something as sweet as pain when He finds you; He will flay you alive, will hold you in the flames until you are but a crisp, will bathe you in acid until you beg for Death- and sweet promises of glory and conquest, but the wards did not yield. The Blue took over his amygdala, forcing Loki to relive memories of former torture until he clawed at his eyes in anguish, but to both his relief and despair, the wards stayed strong as ever.
“Lackey?” Valkyrie rapped on the door to Loki’s room. “Hey, Lackey! Open up! Your brother’s here!”
Thor half expected to hear Loki’s disgruntled voice say something like, “He’s not my brother,” or “My name is Loki,” but there was no response, only silence. Valkyrie made to grasp the handle, but her hand shot back the moment she touched the metal, a red welt blossoming where her skin had made contact with the metal.
“It burns,” she glared at the red spot on her hand. “Sneaky fucker. Probably put a spell on it or something.” As if in retaliation, she kicked the door angrily, but was thrown back instantly by some sort of invisible forcefield.
Thor wavered. “If he wants to be left alone, there is nothing we can do.”
“And I’m telling you,” Valkyrie answered, clearly irritated, “that there’s something seriously weird going on. You didn’t hear him screaming, but I did. It was like-”
She broke off suddenly as a bloodcurdling scream resonated throughout the hallway. The sound, Thor was loathe to admit, was unmistakably his brother's.
“It was like that,” she finished lamely, and punched the wall.
His wards were breaking. Loki was not sure how; he had been thorough in his spellbinding, casting layers upon layers of protection, but the unrelentless barrages of the Blue had caused minute cracks to form, allowing it to seep through the barriers bit by bit, one by one. The pain was excruciating. The first time around had been different: a combination of physical torture at the hands of the Chitauri and mental invasion by Ebony Maw and the Mind Stone over a period of years had turned his mind into putty, his body a tool to be used and abused.
By the time he invaded Midgard, the Loki that had loved mischief, learning, his brother, was no more. He had been replaced by a mindless soldier whose only desire was that of his master’s: Death. He had longed for her sweet touch, had dreamed of it countless times on the Sanctuary, when his body was broken and mangled and riddled with pain. Death was reprieve from suffering, Death was beauty, Death was an unattainable blessing.
In all truth, he had not fully expected to win on Midgard. He wasn’t sure if he had even wanted to. At that point, the most he had hoped for was to be killed by his brother or one of his friends. He had not expected to be spared, to be returned to Asgard, not when his memories (which he now knew had been altered) showed his brother tossing him off the Rainbow Bridge, Odin looking on approvingly. And then, upon returning to Asgard, he had not been executed. Perhaps Frigga had begged for mercy, for him to be allowed to live, which Loki had found ironic. The only true mercy was Death.
And so he had lived, against his will, in the dungeons. Under the protective magic of Asgard the Blue had fled, leaving his mind shattered. Frigga had tried to piece it together somewhat, but she had died, and now so had Odin, and Asgard too, and Loki was left alone with the shards and the Blue, alone to stop it and Thanos from making him a puppet once more.
Something in Loki’s mind snapped. His back arched. Every cell in his body was on fire. His mouth was open- perhaps he was screaming, but he couldn’t tell, couldn’t hear anything over the voices.
Submit, they said, an impossibly loud whisper. Submit and this will all be over. Submit and all will be forgiven.
Loki could not hear himself say the words, but he felt his mouth move, his tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth as he spoke.
“No,” he said, and then screamed as his soul was flayed from the inside out.
Thor knew he was not a genius like his brother, but he was not a total idiot, either. The enchantments, he soon figured out, had only been placed on the doorway to his brother’s chambers, not the walls, and so with the combined efforts of him and Valkyrie, they had managed to bust a hole in Loki’s wall from the next room.
Upon entering, he was greeted with a nightmarish visage: his brother, contorted wildly, practically arching off the bed, his neck at a strange angle, clawing at his face with his fingers. His mouth was open, howling in pain, face twisted in anguish. He wore a crude blindfold that was crusted with dried blood. Yet more blood dripped from his nose and ears, and his fingers were bloody, presumably from scratching himself.
“Thor,” he heard Valkyrie say, though the sound was distant, garbled as if underwater, and when he moved it was sluggish, like wading through honey.
“Brother,” he said, tongue thick. He swallowed, but his throat was dry. “Brother, can you hear me?”
“He can’t,” Valkyrie said, somehow already by Loki’s bed. “He’s plugged his ears. I’m going to take them out.” Thor nodded stiffly.
“Okay,” Thor said. “Okay,” he repeated, more to convince himself. Loki was still screaming. His voice was strangled, raw, and there was an element of pain and fear in it that Thor had never heard before.
“The earplugs are out,” Valkyrie announced, kneeling by the side of Loki’s bed. She grabbed one of his hands, partially for comfort, partially to stop him from harming himself. “Loki, can you hear me?” she asked. “Your brother- Thor- he’s here. Thor’s here.” She shot a look at Thor that read, say something, you idiot.
“Loki,” Thor started, falling to his knees beside Valkyrie. His voice cracked. “Brother, I am here. Are- Are you in pain?”
The screaming paused. “Put them back in,” Loki rasped, voice hoarse. “He will hear you.” His head jerked to the side, covered in a fine sheen of sweat.
“Who will?” asked Valkyrie, at the same time Thor asked,
“Who will hear us, Loki?”
“I cannot-” Loki’s head tilted back at an unnatural angle, so far back Thor feared it would snap. “I cannot- cannot say- He will not let-” His free hand flew up and grabbed his own neck, squeezing it fiercely. Loki made a choking noise, body convulsing, fighting against himself.
“Loki!” Thor cried, diving onto the bed and seizing Loki’s hand, grappling with him in an attempt to free himself from his own grip.
“Shit,” Valkyrie cursed, wrestling with Loki’s other hand as he tried to bring it up to his neck as well. “Since when was he so-” the hand jabbed her in the chest, but she held on, “- fucking strong? And what the Hel is this? Don’t tell me he’s done this before, too.”
“I’ve never seen him like this before in my life,” Thor admitted. “He must be under some sort of spell, or curse, or- or-” Thor’s thoughts raced as he tried to think desperately about what sort of enchantment could be causing his brother to act this way, but he came up with nothing. This sort of thing had always been his brother’s area of expertise, and he seemed unable to tell them anything. A geas, perhaps? But to whom? There were no sorcerers or magical beings more powerful than his brother, at least that Thor knew of. Who could have done such a thing?
A thumping noise broke Thor from his thoughts. Still wrestling against his brother, Thor twisted his head to search for the source of the sound. Loki’s right foot was rapping against the bed in a certain, deliberate manner.
“Morse code,” he realized aloud. “He’s trying to tell us something!” He grinned at Valkyrie, despite himself, and listened closely. One long, four short…
“T… H…” Thor said. Loki’s face was growing pale, lips tinted blue from lack of air. He didn’t have a lot of time left before he would pass out. “Come on, brother,” Thor urged. “What’s the rest?”
Loki’s leg thumped wildly, lips pressed tightly together with effort. Sweat beaded on his brow.
“A… N… O… S,” Thor finished. He heard Valkyrie give a little gasp. “Thanos? Is that correct?”
Loki’s lips twitched, head jerking slightly as if to say yes, and then he passed out.
“Who,” Thor said, “is Thanos?”
He sat at a round table, along with Valkyrie, Banner, and Heimdall. They had tied down Loki to prevent him from hurting himself (or them), and had wiped some of the blood from his face, but opted to leave on the blindfold and put the earplugs back in, for it was obvious that his mind was not completely his own.
Valkyrie swallowed. “I have heard of his name before,” she admitted, and procured from seemingly nowhere a flask, unscrewing the top and taking a large gulp before continuing. Her eyes were distant. “I heard that he was someone even Hela could not defeat. Apparently they had battled before once, but that is all I know.”
Bruce grimaced. “Someone the literal Goddess of Death couldn’t kill? Isn’t that, you know, theoretically impossible?”
“She is- was- the Goddess of Death,” Thor reminded him, “but not Death itself. She could call upon Death to act for her, but not control it. Not entirely.”
“That’s correct.” Heimdall spoke up, his deep, booming voice resonating in the small room. “Thanos- the Mad Titan, he is called- once grappled with Hela, as you say.” He nodded at Valkyrie, who was busy chugging a strange blue liquid from a crystal vial. “He has existed since time immemorial, the last of his race, and in that time, he grew insane and began to long for Death as a person, as a lover. He killed thousands- millions- as sacrifices to Death, and Odin took notice. He sent Hela to fight him, and though she could not kill him, for Death was unwilling to take one such as Thanos, she cast him out into the Void, where he was assumed to have been trapped. This was long before your time, of course,” he added, gesturing to Thor.
Thor frowned. “Why was I never told?”
“That I do not know. Perhaps Odin believed him to be vanquished, dormant, and never thought it important to tell you.” Heimdall shrugged.
“But if Thanos is stuck in the Void,” Valkyrie spoke up, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, “how is he controlling Loki? It doesn’t make sense.”
Thor paled. “No,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
“Huh?” Bruce frowned. “Thor?”
“He must have-” Thor pressed his lips together in a fine line. He gulped. “Loki must have encountered him in the Void, after he- after he-” He broke off, unable to finish.
“Loki fell into the Void three years before the attack on Midgard,” Heimdall continued smoothly.
Valkyrie swore. “Loki was in the Void? For three years?” She ran a hand through her hair. “No wonder he’s so, uh,” she glanced nervously at Thor, “charming.”
“It’s okay,” Thor assured her, though from his face, it was obvious nothing was okay in the slightest. “My brother’s mind is not… what it used to be.”
“Wait, guys,” Bruce interrupted. “What’s the Void?”
“The Void is the space between realms,” Heimdall explained. “There is no light, no sound, no air. Just emptiness, and the infinite cosmos. Those who have fallen in have never emerged- with the exception of Loki. It is said that just gazing upon it for too long is enough to drive men mad.”
“And Loki was in it?” Bruce winced, despite himself. “For three years?”
“Perhaps it was not for as long as that,” Heimdall said.
“What do you mean?” Thor asked.
An strange expression flitted across Heimdall’s face for a moment before disappearing, replaced by his usual stoic unreadable expression. “Around six months after your brother fell,” he admitted, “I heard him.”
“You what?” Thor looked murderous. “Why didn’t y-”
“Let me finish,” said Heimdall lightly, and Thor, uncharacteristically, fell silent. “I heard him,” continued Heimdall, “but I could not see him. I did not know where he was, who he was with, or how to find him. I told your father, and he did try to find a way to rescue him, but it failed. There was nothing I could do but continue to listen, and wait for the time when he would be unobscured from my view. When I was able to see him again, it was on Midgard, and you were immediately sent to retrieve him.” He nodded at Thor.
“What did you hear?” asked Valkyrie, face dark.
Again, the strange expression on Heimdalls face, barely imperceptible. “I wish not to say,” he said, after a moment’s deliberation. “I fear it would upset you.”
“Tell us,” Thor commanded, through gritted teeth. His hands were clenched in fists, knuckles white.
“He was in great pain,” Heimdall answered solemnly. “He was calling for help- for you, Thor. But I was unable to answer him. I could only listen as he was-”
“As he was tortured,” Thor finished for him. “My brother was tortured by this- this being, Thanger-”
“Thanos,” Valkyrie corrected.
“-Thanos, and you never saw fit to tell me?” Thor rose to his feet abruptly, knocking over his chair. It clattered on the ground, the sound deafening in the tiny room.
“It was not my right to tell you,” Heimdall explained, undisturbed by Thor’s display of anger. “That was Loki’s choice to make.”
That seemed to placate Thor somewhat. “Still,”he said petulantly, “I should have known.”
“So does this mean that Loki was under this, uh, Thanos guy’s control when he attacked New York?” Bruce spoke up.
“Perhaps,” Thor said.
Bruce brightened up somewhat. “That’s good to know,” he said, seeming oddly cheerful.
“Good?” Thor repeated, affronted. “My brother was mind-controlled into committing horrific acts of murder and you call that good?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Bruce held up his hands appeasingly. “What I mean to say is, he was under Thanos’s control once before, but was somehow able to escape, right? Which means…” He trailed off, gesturing meaningfully.
“Which means, he can do it again,” Valkyrie realized. She paused. “But how did he get out from his control the first time?”
Bruce shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered. “Thor, do you?” Witnessing the stunned look on Thor’s face, he clarified. “Was there any specific point in time where you noticed Loki’s behavior change? Where he turned from how he was in New York to how he is today?”
Thor nodded thoughtfully. “Let me think,” he said and closed his eyes, pressing two fingers to his temples. After a minute or so, his eyes shot open and he grinned toothily at his friends.
“Yes!” he said triumphantly. “His behavior switched right after… right after…” he trailed off, the grin slipping from his face, replaced by a look of stark horror as he turned to face Bruce Banner.
“Right after the Hulk knocked him out.”
Loki awoke- or, more accurately, his body awoke. He was tied to the bed, spread-eagled, each wrist and ankle cuffed to a separate post. His blindfold was off, and his face had been cleaned somewhat of the dried blood. His brother was standing before him, arms crossed, lips pressed tightly together. With the eyepatch he looked intimidating, more king-like. On Thor’s left was Valkyrie, and on his right Heimdall, looking grave. To his faint relief, Banner was nowhere to be seen.
“Loki,” started Thor. He seemed nervous. “Are you in there?”
Yes, Loki tried to say, but found he could not. His body was no longer his own, his mind hijacked and ravaged. The wards were gone, and Loki, the real Loki, was forced into the backseat of his own self, condemned to watch and listen as Thanos used his hands to destroy everything, and unable to stop him or do anything about it.
“Loki is dead,” the Blue answered Thor, through Loki.
Thor’s eye narrowed. “You lie.”
“Oh? And why is that?” Loki’s eyebrow arched.
“My brother is not so weak,” Thor asserted. “He would not succumb to one as vile as you.” His voice was steady and proud, but he shifted his weight nervously, body language betraying him. Loki, inside the prison the Blue had created for him in his mind, rolled his eyes. Thor had never been a good liar. If Loki, the literal God of Lies, could not deceive Thanos, there was no way Thor would be able to.
“Ah, but he did,” the Blue chortled gleefully. “He held out for a while, I’ll grant him that, but he broke in the end.” He grinned coldly. “You should have heard him: screaming, begging, pleading for mercy; a pathetic, sniveling worm-”
“Alright, that’s enough,” said Thor sharply. “Valkyrie?”
“With pleasure,” she said, looking down on Loki with an expression of disgust. She raised a hand to her mouth and bellowed, “come on, Big Guy! Time to smash!”
The Hulk tore through the wall, roaring and powerful. “Hulk smash?”
“Yes,” she called back. “Smash him.” She pointed at Loki.
The Hulk looked at Loki, then Valkyrie, then back to Loki again. “Smash puny god?”
“Smash puny god,” she affirmed.
The Hulk grinned toothily like a large, green child, and did as he was told.
For the second time, Loki awoke. Every inch of his body ached, and he wondered briefly what Thanos was using him for when he realized with a jolt that the Blue was gone. Experimenting, he made to move his hand. A jolt of pain coursed through his arm, but his fingers twitched. Good enough.
“Loki?” Thor’s face swam into view. “Is that you? Are you, er, you?”
Loki licked his lips, wetting his mouth. “Yes,” he croaked. “I’m me. He’s gone.”
“We can’t be sure.” Loki heard Valkyrie’s voice to the left. He tried to turn his head but it hurt terribly, so he made do with having to stare at Thor’s concerned face.
“Right.” Thor ran a hand through his hair, agitated. “Loki,” he asked, “what prank did you play during my eight-hundred and thirty-second birthday celebration?”
Loki’s lips twitched, a rare semblance of a smile. “Released a horde of Bilgesnipe in the main hall.”
The anguish melted from Thor’s face, replaced with sheer delight. “It is you!” he exclaimed, clasping Loki’s hand between his own. “It’s him!” he yelled, the volume of his voice forcing Loki to wince. “It’s Loki! It worked! It really worked!”
“Thor,” Loki tried to get his attention. “ What worked? What did you do?”
“Ah.” Thor averted his gaze guiltily. “I, er. Had the Hulk smash you.”
“You what?”
“It worked in New York!” Thor squeezed Loki’s hand. “Did it not?”
“Well, yes, but-”
“But what? It worked!”
“It was reckless!”
“Reckless?” Thor’s face contorted in anger. “What’s reckless is you locking yourself up for days and not telling anyone about a cosmic entity invading your mind!”
“It had nothing to do with you!”
“Nothing to do with me?” repeated Thor incredulously. “I’m your brother! You- you could have died, Loki!”
“And you would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” Loki sneered, although his eyes glistened strangely. “You were ever so mad when you found I was still alive when I should have died on Svartalfheim.”
“Wha-” Thor gaped, caught off guard. “Did you think I was mad because you were alive?” he questioned, stricken with horror, momentarily forgetting his anger.
Loki’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t you be?”
“Because you’re my brother and I love you!” Thor clapped a hand to Loki’s cheek, cradling his head in his palm. “I can’t believe- you thought-” He broke off, pursing his lips. “Loki,” he said, and his voice cracked slightly. “Please believe me when I say that I would never, never be happy over your death. I was angry because you hid the fact that you were alive from me! Seeing you hurt brings me no joy.”
Oh. Loki’s lips formed the syllable, but no sound came out. “I… I see,” he said eventually, blinking fast to hide the oncoming tears. They stayed together in silence for several minutes, Loki struggling not to cry as Thor took in the sight of his brother’s mangled body.
“I am sorry,” he said, and rubbed away one of Loki’s tears with a thumb. “I wish I could have thought of a way to free you from that- that monster’s clutches without causing you harm.”
Loki swallowed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine!” Thor insisted. “You’re hurt. Badly. If you were mortal, you would be dead.”
“But I’m not a mortal. It is nothing, Thor, really.”
“This is not nothing!” A spark of electricity ran up Thor’s arm. “How could you not have told me about this? That you were-” Thor searched for the words, “-were held captive and tortured by some being called Thanos? That you were under his control when you attacked Midgard? That-”
“I was never under his control!” Loki flared up. “I went to Midgard of my own free will! I was no- am no- victim!”
“You really expect me to believe that?” thundered Thor. “You told me on Asgard that you never wanted the throne, and then show up but a few years later suddenly hankering to take over an entire planet? Admit it- it makes no sense!”
Loki’s lips pressed together in a fine white line. “Fine,” he acceded, though his voice was filed with vitriol. “But it changes nothing,” he added.
“Maybe so,” Thor agreed. “It at least explains some things, though.” Absentmindedly he brushed away some hair from Loki’s forehead. “I wish you would talk to me about these things,” he admitted. “I should not have to find out from Valkyrie or Heimdall when you are troubled or in pain. We are brothers, are we not?”
Loki averted his gaze, not answering.
“Look at me,” Thor commanded. “Loki.” Reluctantly, Loki did as he was told. “Promise me,” continued Thor. “Promise me you will talk to me more in the future. It doesn’t have to be about anything painful. It can be the weather, or a book you’re reading, or an irritating brother.” He flashed a quick smile. “Please, Loki. Just promise me this.”
Loki chewed his lip. “Alright,” he said, not without a hint of reluctance. “I promise.”
Thor’s face split in half with a wide grin. “Thank you.” He pressed a quick kiss to Loki’s forehead, his whiskers tickling his skin. “I’m glad you’re alive,” he said, still smiling.
For the second time, Loki blinked back tears. “Me too,” he said, and returned the gesture; a small, sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.
For then, it was enough.
It was enough.