Work Text:
Thor expected everyone standing in the hall to kneel when he sat down in the throne. What he didn't expect was for Loki stir from his place at the left instead of kneeling. Shining in his golden armor with his high helm leaving no doubt who it was, he walked to the center of the middle dais. He stopped there to face the audience, as they watched him in dead silence. Thor could see the concern in some faces that Loki had planned this all along, that he intended some treachery to steal the throne in this moment of Thor's triumph. But Thor glanced at Sif, whose eyes were fixed on Loki, and she nodded slightly, encouraging him. Thor knew everything was well before Loki turned in a swirl of his emerald cape to look up at Thor and with slow deliberation, lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head.
Thor stared at him, surprised. This hadn't been part of the plan. Formal pardon, yes, but that had been planned for later, not in the acknowledgment phase. Not that he'd doubted Loki would kneel, not after these weeks of him doing everything short of shoving Thor into the throne bodily and chaining him there, but he'd never have thought Loki would do this so visibly.
It didn't seem right, somehow. Loki had resisted kneeling to anyone, especially Thor.
But there he was, and Thor knew it was a gift for him. It was an apology he would never make aloud, but meant all the same. Thor nodded to him in somber acknowledgment, and then he smiled.
Because Loki had no idea of the surprise that Thor had planned for him in turn. This was a perfect moment to move things forward. He gestured for Loki to stay there, and rose back to his feet to address the crowd.
"There are many rumors for the events of the last two years, of what my brother has done and not done. But I will say this - that time is ended. That suspicion, that darkness, is ended. Loki Odinson is my brother, now and always. He has sacrificed much so that all of you might live in peace, and I will brook no insult. He who insults Loki, insults me. My brother has full pardon, and it is ended." Loki bowed his head again intending to receive the king's hand on his helm in forgiveness, so he missed Thor's quick grin, before he continued, "In token of this: I grant him our father's spear, Gungnir."
The entire hall gasped in surprise, but no less than Loki, whose gaze snapped up to his face, shocked. Then his expression twisted in confusion.
"I bear Mjolnir," Thor explained. "I have no need for Gungnir and it is not a trapping of kingship, save that my father wielded it. At the moment he knew he was soon to perish, Odin Allfather handed Gungnir to Loki to wield in defense of this Realm. Therefore he shall continue to do so. With my blessing."
Thor twirled Gungnir, until he stopped it parallel to the floor, and held it out. But in that moment some shadow passed across Loki's face, his eyes tracing the length of the spear, as his lips pressed together.
"Loki?" Thor prompted more quietly, in a voice for the two of them, when Loki didn't reach for the spear. "It belongs to you."
Loki's eyes flickered to Thor's right, where Frigga had once stood and where he refused to stand himself, then he held up both hands to receive it. Thor laid Gungnir across Loki's palms, and Loki's fingers belatedly curled around the haft. He stared at it as he brought it close to his body, his expression strange and unreadable.
When he stood and raised it to present himself to the hall, he made the tip stream with a silvery glow, and he was smiling, seeming pleased and gratified by the cheers and approbation.
But Thor didn't forget the expression he'd had first, and he wasn't surprised when he noticed Loki slip out of the coronation feast early. Or that Sif followed him shortly after.
The next day, when Loki had tucked himself in the archives as was his habit in the afternoon, Thor found Sif and asked her to walk with him.
They left the city to go to the shore, where no one could overhear. This high arched bridge had been rebuilt after the attack had damaged it, and it provided a dramatic view of the city behind them and the water before. For a moment they both watched the rushing water passing beneath them, heading for its drop to infinity. "Loki took me by surprise yesterday," he said finally.
Sif didn't have to ask which act had been surprising. "He knew what they feared of him, so he told me he would make it clear they were wrong. He truly doesn't want the throne."
Which Thor knew. Had Loki been less adamant, Thor might have been tempted to try to give it to him; Thor didn't want the throne either, and Loki had proven his worth when he had acted in Odin's stead. But Loki's aversion bothered him still. Thor pursed his lips. "Does Loki seem… well to you, Sif?" Thor asked. "He is strangely subdued. Not just yesterday, but… every day."
She hesitated and tilted her head to look up at the sky. "He still grieves," she answered.
"As do I," Thor said, "But it is strange and ominous that he will not feign lightness of bearing and allows me to see so much of his trouble." Even in the deepest extremity of rage and grief for their mother, he had buried it in provocations and jests until Thor had scarcely held himself back from a violent reaction. But now, the cleverness and humor were dull echoes of what had been, weary and lacking conviction.
She shook her head and kept her gaze on the water. "Do not wish for that shell of pretense, my king. It serves no one well, especially him."
Thor shook his head. "Please, friend. Not that formality. Not now, between us."
She glanced at him, and gave a nod of acceding to his wish.
"And Loki?" he prompted. "I thought for a moment he would refuse Gungnir. And I have seen not a whisker of desire for him to regain the throne. He even seemed ill when Volstagg offered it to him in jest. Lack of ambition has never been one of his faults before."
She didn't smile at that, which worried Thor even more, and she said, "He found that wanting a thing was not the same as having it. He was quickly disillusioned as king, frustrated that those strategies he saw so clearly were questioned, even in the guise of Odin Allfather."
That was certainly true enough, but not the point. It was not that Loki didn't want to be king because he'd found rule annoying; he was actively sickened or afraid of the idea. Worse, Loki didn't seem to want anything else in these past many weeks except to put Thor on the throne instead, and be left alone. It worried Thor supremely because it reminded him of that moment in the dungeons when Loki had released the illusion, and Thor had glimpsed the truth of his shattering grief for their mother's passing. He'd buried it almost immediately under his most provoking tongue then, but he seemed unwilling or unable to hide it now. "Father told him something that he will not share. Is that what troubles him so deeply?" Thor guessed. Had Odin's parting words been something Loki had taken to heart wrongly?
"I don't know what Odin Allfather said to him. But I know that is not the root..." she trailed off into silence.
He prompted gently, "Sif? So there is a cause?"
She swallowed and turned her head back to him. "Can I tell you a secret?" she asked.
"Of course," he reassured her. "Anything. I will keep your confidence."
"It is not my confidence, but his. Yet I think you should know. It isn't grief," she said. "Or it is-- I think grief and regret and guilt eat at him-- but there is more. There is… fear."
Thor frowned, as he'd not seen that. "Fear of what? Of me?" he asked with a sudden lurch within, that Loki might still hold some fear of retribution or punishment.
"No, not of you." She hesitated to glance around the deserted river shore and drew in a deep breath, to bring herself to speak the words of the secret. "What Loki told you about the scepter was not the full truth. Thanos used that scepter on him, but not to put him in direct thrall as he said. What Thanos did was to weaken Loki's immortality to torture him to the edge of death and revive him again and again, to-- to train him. To make Loki into his eagle to hunt and kill, this fierce bird of prey tamed to his hand…"
Thor felt a chill wash down his spine. He was acquainted with Thanos' power first hand, and yet Thanos had done little to him but keep him secure. To learn that Thanos had done so much worse to Loki…. "Tortured him to death?" he whispered. He had the odd thought that Frigga had never known what Loki had suffered, yet she had always been right to believe in him, both when Thor had thought Loki had perished in the void, and later when Thor had thought Loki was lost in his madness and hate. Yet he was glad she hadn't known the truth, as well, for it would have broken her heart. Thor was not sure it didn't break his.
"He will say no more -- he pretends he did not tell me even that much --but he barely rests," she said. "Nightmares shred his sleep. Not of Thanos alone, I think, but all the memories that torment him."
Thor nodded, understanding at last. "So these hours he spends in the yard, fighting you and me and anyone else, are not for training."
"He will say so, but no, the main purpose is to exhaust himself enough to sleep deeply. I know this, and I spar with him anyway, and I try to tire him in bed, because without it he will only lie beside me until he thinks I sleep. He creeps out of the bed to stand on the balcony or go to the archives to read until he passes out in the ancient dust…"
Her words rushed out in a torrent before her voice broke, and Thor closed a hand on her shoulder, offering his comfort. It seemed to give her support and strength enough to continue, "In his sleep, he trembles and cries out, and I hate Thanos so much for doing that to him. We keep a light in the room, because he dreams of falling and of those awful dark caves, and without it he doesn't know if he's awake, or if he's still there and dreaming of me instead…" She only found voice enough to whisper the last, revealing her own sorrow and upset, as assiduously hidden from him these past weeks as Loki's truth.
His hand rubbed her neck and upper back, trying to soothe her, even as he listened to this. He had thought Loki was still grieving for their parents, having underestimated what Loki had experienced between his fall and reappearance on Midgard. He thought, I should have known there was more, brother. I should have tried to understand what was happening with you, not dismissed it as a continuation of madness.
Sif looked out to the water and lifted a quick hand to rub her eyes. "I try to help, but there's little I can do… I fear something broke within him, that bright spirit we all dreaded and adored both at once, seems… quenched."
"Nay, Sif, not quenched. His eyes still light when he sees you." Which was one of the only consolations Thor had, seeing Loki's spirit was still within and visible around Sif. "I think, like an ember, his spirit needs careful tending before it can flame again. But he has changed, as well, and I suspect the Loki of old is gone for good. We should be glad that whatever troubles he's faced, he seems the wiser for them."
"Wiser, yes," she agreed and smiled wistfully. "Though I miss his laughter and that gleeful grin when he's watching something fall exactly to plan."
While Thor would argue that Loki had laughed, and not long ago, she was right that none of it had yet been unrestrained and happy. Thor patted her shoulder. "We will get him to laugh again, Sif. It must be hard to find joy if his dreams are so dark. But they will fade in time." He said the words, hoping they were true; long-lived as they were, days tended to melt into weeks and months, while memories turned to pale mist. "Thank you for telling me the truth," he added gratefully. "It helps me understand."
"Don't tell him you know. He tries so hard to pretend he is well." She laughed hollowly. "Even when it is plain he is not."
"I will save his pride and say nothing, but I hope he may yet confide his pain to me."
"He wants to be strong for you," she said.
Thor shook his head, knowing well how Loki reviled pity, and he always read Thor's efforts to take care of him as pity, no matter how it was intended. But he wished otherwise, that Loki would understand that Thor knew he was strong. He wanted to help him for no other reason than love.
Sif must've read his face for she said, "Never doubt he loves you." She gripped his forearm urgently, and he laid his other hand over hers.
Thor's lips made a soft, sad smile. "How could I when he tried to sacrifice himself for me? As much as I sorrow for Father's passing, I cannot but be glad that he unmade Loki's design and sent him back to us."
"Yes," she agreed with a nod. Neither of them said it, but he knew they both thought it, that Loki himself still regretted that Odin had exchanged their places.
There had to be a way to help him. Loki needed a way to be more attached to the Realm, and he needed more for his prodigious mind to grasp than reading old tomes for esoteric knowledge for which he had no true use. "Do you think he would take it ill if I asked him to assist in the rule?" he asked after a moment. "I have discovered that Father had a facility with agreements I do not share, but Loki has always been good with language."
A smile grew on Sif's face. "I think he might like that. Especially if he has the opportunity to scorn your ability to read," she teased, arching her brows at him.
Thor chuckled. "Ah, let us hope so. If he declines such an obvious taunt, we will have to haul him to Eir. Come, let's return. You can show me where he is hiding and I'll lay out my proposal to him."
He gestured her to go ahead of him, and then he followed with a glance upward and a prayer to the one who had always listened and who had always loved Loki the best:
If you can hear me, Mother, please help us, and most of all, help him find his way out from this shadow and get well again.
There was no answer, but his heart felt more at ease returning to the palace than it had leaving it.
end.