[Thor Fic] Mourning
Title: Mourning
Characters: Thor, Loki, Heimdall, Jane Foster, Darcy
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1600+
Summary: Thor mourns his little brother's suicide.
Author's Notes: This was written for the norsekink prompt: I just want to see Thor getting terribly depressed over his little brother's suicide. A little peek at the guilt/anger/grief thought processes.
Mourning
***
Loki let go.
Thor could not dream without his brother appearing. Always, always, Loki let go. Sometimes they were on the shattered bridge again, hanging over the edge of the world. Sometimes it was one of the rare occasions where Thor had needed to rescue his brother. Once, they were flying together, but Loki was slipping from Thor's arms and if his brother would just grab hold-
He woke from that dream yelling his brother's name.
It's hard to go about his day as if nothing had happened. As if there should not be a dark presence lurking in his shadow, as if Loki was somehow evil. Foolish, yes, Thor could believe he was foolish. He was just as proud as Thor, wasn't he? Just as driven to show his skill and make Father proud. But he hadn't had the sojourn on Midgard to temper him; Father hadn't thought he needed it.
Sometimes he wanted to rage at Father for that. Odin Allfather should have seen that both his sons were boys, he should have seen through whatever lies and artifice Loki used to seem so wise.
Thor vented his anger on his sparring partners, until Heimdall waded in one day and threw him into a wall hard enough to crack it.
"You are not behaving in a manner worthy of yourself, son of Odin." Heimdall's voice cut through the fury, and Thor stared about. Men lay groaning in the courtyard and storm-clouds covered the sky.
He had pitched a temper-fit.
Thor bowed his head. "I am not."
He left off sparring. Fighting too quickly turned personal, especially with his friends. Volstagg knew he loved his brother, Hogun knew to hold his tongue, but Sif and Fandral... Thor could not take it when they spoke ill of his brother.
In his dreams, Loki still let go.
***
Thor sat at the edge of his bed, staring past his hands, staring past the floor. He ought, some part of him thought, to go retrieve his brother's body. With Mjolnir and his own power, he could risk a few days of flight into the void if he knew where to go. Heimdall could tell him exactly where Loki's corpse fell.
His hands hurt. He stared at them as if he didn't quite recognize them, then slowly unclenched his fists. Crescent marks crossed his palms where his nails had bit flesh.
He was a coward, he thought miserably. The idea of bearing his brother's cold body home was just-
He couldn't do it.
***
"I am not your brother!" Loki snapped.
Those words had been like being stabbed with one of his brother's long knives. Worse still, though, was the demand, "Is it madness? Is it?!"
Yes, he thought, staring out across the stars on the broken edge of the Bifrost's power-conduit. It was madness. Loki's madness.
When they were children, Thor had always thought of Loki as the night to his day. His brother was dark-haired and leaner, saturnine in his mood and look. Well, he seemed so. Thor learned the trick of making him smile early, and then Loki learned all sorts of tricks himself. They always left him grinning and laughing, even if the person he played them on was yelling bloody murder.
It had infuriated him to be the butt of his brother's jokes, Thor remembered. Loki would make him feel like a fool, and he'd chase his brother across half of Asgard, until Loki got tired of that game and let him catch one of his simulacra. Rarer still, sometimes he'd let Thor catch the real him. Half the time he let his brother go, convinced he'd grabbed another of his brother's smoke-creations until it was too late to catch Loki again.
As they had gotten older, Loki's tricks had become more violent and more embarrassing. Thor had always assumed it was because his brother knew anything less would be ignored. Now, he wondered how long madness had festered in his brother, how long Loki had craved that battle.
Too long. Even one moment was too long.
***
His hands started shaking one night, and he stormed out of the feast hall with hardly a word. No one tried to stop him; he did that too often these days, and whatever anyone might say of Loki, they knew Thor mourned his brother.
What had Volstagg said? "At least give Loki this, he did kill the frost giant king."
And Fandral replied, "Which involved opening Asgard to the Jotun. He never would have done that if Odin hadn't been struck down. Mark you, who found him? Loki."
Loki would never harm their Father. Never.
But something had happened after he was exiled, something concerning Loki neither Mother nor Father would tell him about. Mother said she didn't want to change his love for his brother, and ice gripped his heart. Had Loki-?
He stormed into his father's sanctuary, winds gusting about him. "Father!"
"Son," his father said reprovingly.
"You fell into the Odinsleep after I was exiled. Did Loki-" Thor said quickly, before the words could get stuck in his throat. But the rest of it wouldn't come; Loki wouldn't do such a thing, his heart insisted.
He would send the Destroyer against the innocents of Midgard? He would kill his own brother? But he wouldn't strike down their father to give himself the power and authority necessary to seize control of the Bifrost? Thor almost wanted to laugh. What did he really know about what his brother was capable of?
"No," his father said heavily. "No. Loki learned something he should never have learned, and we quarreled. If I had not quarreled with you also that very day, if I had not had to banish my son and heir, it would have been unpleasant. Just as, if all I had done that day was exile you, Thor, it would have been painful but not debilitating."
Thor bowed his head. "I thought I understood him, Father. I thought... He lied to me, he disowned me- I don't understand! There was no need for that in his plans!"
Father said nothing for a long time. Then, he said, "The only person who can tell you why Loki acted as he did is Loki himself."
Now Thor did laugh until laughter broke down into dry sobs.
***
He thought, after months of these dreams, he could have one single night without Loki letting go. One night where he could grab hold of his brother and drag him back home. One night where neither madness nor Midgard split them asunder.
This night, Father blamed Loki for them traveling to Jotunheim and cast Loki down, and Thor knew his brother would never, ever learn the sort of worthiness Father would have demanded. Thor would never put him to the test as Loki had him. Loki would live and die on Midgard, empty of his powers and magics, alone.
Thor flung himself after his brother, and Loki pushed him away.
***
"There is hope," Heimdall said, and Thor almost asked him where his brother's body was. Almost, though, as his brother had liked to remind him, only counted in horseshoes and fireballs.
"How is she?" he asked instead. Jane was balm for his soul. Knowing she still sought him gave him something to hold onto; she would find a way, he knew it. He would return to her, he would sweep her into his arms and return to Midgard with her.
Maybe after a lifetime with her, he could return to Asgard without seeing reminders of his brother in every room and around every corner.
***
There was hope. The return to Midgard was painful, his reunion with Jane painless, and after a blissful night, he slept a dreamless sleep.
Then the son of Coul came to speak to him about S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers Initiative. He introduced him to the old warrior who must surely be of Heimdall's get. Nicholas Fury found that amusing, and Thor liked the idea of fighting to protect the people of Midgard from people such as Doctor Doom and the Mandarin. The son of Coul had started to suggest a man named Magneto, until Fury said "we are not sending Iron Man against Magneto" with enough finality to make the other man pale.
The dreams of Loki letting go still came to him, but not as often. Especially not when he slept with Jane in his arms.
***
"Darcy, you are supposed to be helping me analyze this data! Stop reading the tabloids and get over here!"
"They're not tabloids, they're the Society pages! Besides, this is totally Shield-related! It's about Tony Stark and his new boyfriend!"
Thor wandered into the kitchen and dug out a frying pan. Bacon. He definitely wanted bacon with breakfast. And eggs. And sausages. Darcy sat at the table, an actual paper newspaper spread in front of her ("so low-tech, but what you gonna do out here?"), while Jane periodically leaned her head in to yell at her assistant. She obviously wasn't very bothered by it, though, Thor thought, or she'd have come to get Darcy instead of just yelling.
"It being about Tony Stark doesn't automatically make it Shield-related!"
"But his boyfriend's hot!" Darcy flipped over the paper and held it out for him to see. "Come on, Thor, tell Jane he's hot."
Thor glanced at the paper, ready to say 'yes', and-
'American billionaire Tony Stark and Finnish art-collector Alvar Lye-Smith at the London Museum Gala last Thursday.'
A color photograph showed Tony Stark standing with a saturnine man in front of an artpiece. The man wore a green suit and a seductive smile. His dark hair was longer than was fashionable for Midgard, and his eyes might have been green.
The bacon was burning, and Thor didn't care in the slightest. His brother was alive.
-End-
Characters: Thor, Loki, Heimdall, Jane Foster, Darcy
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1600+
Summary: Thor mourns his little brother's suicide.
Author's Notes: This was written for the norsekink prompt: I just want to see Thor getting terribly depressed over his little brother's suicide. A little peek at the guilt/anger/grief thought processes.
Mourning
***
Loki let go.
Thor could not dream without his brother appearing. Always, always, Loki let go. Sometimes they were on the shattered bridge again, hanging over the edge of the world. Sometimes it was one of the rare occasions where Thor had needed to rescue his brother. Once, they were flying together, but Loki was slipping from Thor's arms and if his brother would just grab hold-
He woke from that dream yelling his brother's name.
It's hard to go about his day as if nothing had happened. As if there should not be a dark presence lurking in his shadow, as if Loki was somehow evil. Foolish, yes, Thor could believe he was foolish. He was just as proud as Thor, wasn't he? Just as driven to show his skill and make Father proud. But he hadn't had the sojourn on Midgard to temper him; Father hadn't thought he needed it.
Sometimes he wanted to rage at Father for that. Odin Allfather should have seen that both his sons were boys, he should have seen through whatever lies and artifice Loki used to seem so wise.
Thor vented his anger on his sparring partners, until Heimdall waded in one day and threw him into a wall hard enough to crack it.
"You are not behaving in a manner worthy of yourself, son of Odin." Heimdall's voice cut through the fury, and Thor stared about. Men lay groaning in the courtyard and storm-clouds covered the sky.
He had pitched a temper-fit.
Thor bowed his head. "I am not."
He left off sparring. Fighting too quickly turned personal, especially with his friends. Volstagg knew he loved his brother, Hogun knew to hold his tongue, but Sif and Fandral... Thor could not take it when they spoke ill of his brother.
In his dreams, Loki still let go.
***
Thor sat at the edge of his bed, staring past his hands, staring past the floor. He ought, some part of him thought, to go retrieve his brother's body. With Mjolnir and his own power, he could risk a few days of flight into the void if he knew where to go. Heimdall could tell him exactly where Loki's corpse fell.
His hands hurt. He stared at them as if he didn't quite recognize them, then slowly unclenched his fists. Crescent marks crossed his palms where his nails had bit flesh.
He was a coward, he thought miserably. The idea of bearing his brother's cold body home was just-
He couldn't do it.
***
"I am not your brother!" Loki snapped.
Those words had been like being stabbed with one of his brother's long knives. Worse still, though, was the demand, "Is it madness? Is it?!"
Yes, he thought, staring out across the stars on the broken edge of the Bifrost's power-conduit. It was madness. Loki's madness.
When they were children, Thor had always thought of Loki as the night to his day. His brother was dark-haired and leaner, saturnine in his mood and look. Well, he seemed so. Thor learned the trick of making him smile early, and then Loki learned all sorts of tricks himself. They always left him grinning and laughing, even if the person he played them on was yelling bloody murder.
It had infuriated him to be the butt of his brother's jokes, Thor remembered. Loki would make him feel like a fool, and he'd chase his brother across half of Asgard, until Loki got tired of that game and let him catch one of his simulacra. Rarer still, sometimes he'd let Thor catch the real him. Half the time he let his brother go, convinced he'd grabbed another of his brother's smoke-creations until it was too late to catch Loki again.
As they had gotten older, Loki's tricks had become more violent and more embarrassing. Thor had always assumed it was because his brother knew anything less would be ignored. Now, he wondered how long madness had festered in his brother, how long Loki had craved that battle.
Too long. Even one moment was too long.
***
His hands started shaking one night, and he stormed out of the feast hall with hardly a word. No one tried to stop him; he did that too often these days, and whatever anyone might say of Loki, they knew Thor mourned his brother.
What had Volstagg said? "At least give Loki this, he did kill the frost giant king."
And Fandral replied, "Which involved opening Asgard to the Jotun. He never would have done that if Odin hadn't been struck down. Mark you, who found him? Loki."
Loki would never harm their Father. Never.
But something had happened after he was exiled, something concerning Loki neither Mother nor Father would tell him about. Mother said she didn't want to change his love for his brother, and ice gripped his heart. Had Loki-?
He stormed into his father's sanctuary, winds gusting about him. "Father!"
"Son," his father said reprovingly.
"You fell into the Odinsleep after I was exiled. Did Loki-" Thor said quickly, before the words could get stuck in his throat. But the rest of it wouldn't come; Loki wouldn't do such a thing, his heart insisted.
He would send the Destroyer against the innocents of Midgard? He would kill his own brother? But he wouldn't strike down their father to give himself the power and authority necessary to seize control of the Bifrost? Thor almost wanted to laugh. What did he really know about what his brother was capable of?
"No," his father said heavily. "No. Loki learned something he should never have learned, and we quarreled. If I had not quarreled with you also that very day, if I had not had to banish my son and heir, it would have been unpleasant. Just as, if all I had done that day was exile you, Thor, it would have been painful but not debilitating."
Thor bowed his head. "I thought I understood him, Father. I thought... He lied to me, he disowned me- I don't understand! There was no need for that in his plans!"
Father said nothing for a long time. Then, he said, "The only person who can tell you why Loki acted as he did is Loki himself."
Now Thor did laugh until laughter broke down into dry sobs.
***
He thought, after months of these dreams, he could have one single night without Loki letting go. One night where he could grab hold of his brother and drag him back home. One night where neither madness nor Midgard split them asunder.
This night, Father blamed Loki for them traveling to Jotunheim and cast Loki down, and Thor knew his brother would never, ever learn the sort of worthiness Father would have demanded. Thor would never put him to the test as Loki had him. Loki would live and die on Midgard, empty of his powers and magics, alone.
Thor flung himself after his brother, and Loki pushed him away.
***
"There is hope," Heimdall said, and Thor almost asked him where his brother's body was. Almost, though, as his brother had liked to remind him, only counted in horseshoes and fireballs.
"How is she?" he asked instead. Jane was balm for his soul. Knowing she still sought him gave him something to hold onto; she would find a way, he knew it. He would return to her, he would sweep her into his arms and return to Midgard with her.
Maybe after a lifetime with her, he could return to Asgard without seeing reminders of his brother in every room and around every corner.
***
There was hope. The return to Midgard was painful, his reunion with Jane painless, and after a blissful night, he slept a dreamless sleep.
Then the son of Coul came to speak to him about S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers Initiative. He introduced him to the old warrior who must surely be of Heimdall's get. Nicholas Fury found that amusing, and Thor liked the idea of fighting to protect the people of Midgard from people such as Doctor Doom and the Mandarin. The son of Coul had started to suggest a man named Magneto, until Fury said "we are not sending Iron Man against Magneto" with enough finality to make the other man pale.
The dreams of Loki letting go still came to him, but not as often. Especially not when he slept with Jane in his arms.
***
"Darcy, you are supposed to be helping me analyze this data! Stop reading the tabloids and get over here!"
"They're not tabloids, they're the Society pages! Besides, this is totally Shield-related! It's about Tony Stark and his new boyfriend!"
Thor wandered into the kitchen and dug out a frying pan. Bacon. He definitely wanted bacon with breakfast. And eggs. And sausages. Darcy sat at the table, an actual paper newspaper spread in front of her ("so low-tech, but what you gonna do out here?"), while Jane periodically leaned her head in to yell at her assistant. She obviously wasn't very bothered by it, though, Thor thought, or she'd have come to get Darcy instead of just yelling.
"It being about Tony Stark doesn't automatically make it Shield-related!"
"But his boyfriend's hot!" Darcy flipped over the paper and held it out for him to see. "Come on, Thor, tell Jane he's hot."
Thor glanced at the paper, ready to say 'yes', and-
'American billionaire Tony Stark and Finnish art-collector Alvar Lye-Smith at the London Museum Gala last Thursday.'
A color photograph showed Tony Stark standing with a saturnine man in front of an artpiece. The man wore a green suit and a seductive smile. His dark hair was longer than was fashionable for Midgard, and his eyes might have been green.
The bacon was burning, and Thor didn't care in the slightest. His brother was alive.
-End-