Work Text:
Sometimes, when his mind allows it, Loki dreams.
Of home. Of the creatures that he knew since he was a child. Of he shining amour that was everywhere. Of the sparkling rainbow bridge. Of the day the Bifrost, one of the most wonderous things in Asgard, shattered into thousands of millions of pieces. And he deams of his brother.
Often in his dreams they just sit and talk. About the past, about their shared memories. About sharing a drink. About a casual touching while they’re laughing about a joke. About a glance from the corner of their eyes.
The sun is high in the sky and throws her light gently on Thor’s face. His hair reflects it. Like threads of pure gold. His lips, which Thor is wetting while he’s enjoying a good talk, sparkle a little, overshining their natural pink color. His narrowed eyes searching for his brother’s, calmly. His gazes are like a breeze to Loki, a cool breeze on a warm and bright day like this gently stroking his skin.
He misses him. He misses Thor ever so dearly. He is lost somewhere in the middle of nowhere, does not know where to go and is always afraid to sleep. He has seen so many hideous and evil-minded creatures that he knows better than to sleep. But who ever listens to their own mind?
Sleep is the place where he is in control. Where he completely forgets about his hardships, about his fears about the future. In his dreams he is complete, with his family by his side, with Thor always with him. Here he knows that it does no good to show weakness as a member of the royal family. But when he is with Thor he can forget about that. Because Thor is his strength. When at the same time his brother is also his weakness, he gives him strength by being his mindless and carefree self.
Yes, Thor is his sanctuary. Still, as it has always been.
And the worst part about dreaming?
Is waking up.