AVENGERS ASSEMBLE...AND MAKEOUT
Okay, so. With all the excitement that's been building over the last week or so, there seems to be an unreasonable amount of negativity coming along with it. And that just won't do! So here's what I propose:
♥an Avengers Kissing Meme♥
( Read more... )
♥an Avengers Kissing Meme♥
( Read more... )
Thor brings Loki home, after Fandral resolved not to grieve anymore, after Fandral spent far too long sitting before his mirror and wishing that Loki might appear in it. Thor brings Loki home, and Fandral discovers that not a bit has changed about him. The pain he buried because Loki betrayed them all and then died for his ambitions is still vicious and gnawing. It's part of him now.
"What are you going to do?" Hogun asks, two days after Loki's return. They are supposed to be sparring, but mostly Fandral bears the marks of Hogun's axe coming too close. He can't even feel the cuts; he only notices the blood on his arms.
"He is a traitor," Fandral says. He knows that it is more than that. He knows the truth because Thor can never keep secrets after too much mead, and Thor near-whispered the awful truth, that Loki was never their prince, that Loki was stolen in the night.
If the rest of Asgard knew, they would call for Loki's life instead of just demanding fair justice.
Hogun swings his axe again, and this time, Fandral does feel it, a quick searing pain across his chest. The blood flows too freely. His shirt is sliced through.
"Hogun," Volstagg says, and even he seems reproachful. Such brutality is uncalled for in sparring between friends.
Fandral hisses as he touches the wound, the free-flowing blood. He will need a healing.
He glances up at Hogun, whose eyes are guarded. "You will need care for that," he says, and his voice is soft, careful. He does not apologize, and he shouldn't. It is Fandral's own fault that he was not paying attention as they trained. Fandral is a warrior, and he has been so for hundred of years. He should know better.
He also knows an opportunity when it is given to him. The healing chambers are nearly beside the dungeons where prisoners are kept, where even a prince of Asgard would be held for his crimes.
The cut still bleeds as he walks down those dank stairs. There are guard, of course, and he nods to them as if he isn't hurt. They eye him but do not stop him, for being a friend of Thor's will open nearly every door in Asguard.
They even open the door to Loki's cell. He is dripping blood, and they should not. He should not let them; Hogun should not have given him such a wound. Hogun shouldn't have given him an excuse to come here. Fandral can hear Sif’s plea against mercy, and he can hear Volstagg spit at the notion Loki is still alive.
Sif, at least, carries a grudge older than Fandral can remember; Volstagg watched Fandral after Loki fell. He blames neither of them.
Loki’s cell is laced with the finest magic that Asgard has to offer, and Fandral wonders if it will be enough of a cage. If even bound, Loki will stay. There are no mirrors here, and Loki is stripped of everything but his leather breeches and a simple shirt, dark green linen.
He says nothing, just watching Fandral with wary eyes. He looks exactly as Fandral remembers and nothing like Fandral remembers. It is disturbing, and were Fandral not one of the finest warriors of Asgard--with all a warrior’s pride--he would flee from that one look.
But he does not like that this man feels a stranger. Loki could never be a stranger to him. He knows Loki’s body, knows the scars left from years of battle and childhood pranks gone awry. He knows there is a burn mark on Loki’s shoulder from an ill-sought battle in Vanaheim, and a mark across his leg from Sif’s own sword.
“Loki,” he says, and it is wrong. He has known Loki since their boyhood.
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He will not think of Alfheim, of the night by the fire when his own arm burned of poison, except that he can still feel Loki’s cold hand on the heat under his skin, harsh with callouses. There are moments when he still feels Loki’s magic in his blood, when he can still feel the tentative touch of Loki’s mouth against his. The others slept while they discovered each other.
He will not think of it. He cannot go back. Loki is not the same man now.
“You are foolish,” Loki says, and he stands. The magic in the room seems to gleam as he comes forward, close to Fandral.
In the magic of the room, some of the glamor Odin cast on Loki seems to fade. Fandral can feel the coldness coming from Loki’s skin, even if he still looks Æsir.
Fandral cannot disagree. Instead he reaches to touch Loki’s face, and Loki allows it. Nothing happens. His hand does not burn cold as Volstagg’s skin did. Loki is simply cool to the touch; nothing else has changed.
He is not expecting Loki to surge forward then, to claim his mouth. His hands ball into Fandral’s ruined shirt, and Fandral cannot stop himself. His hands slide onto Loki’s shoulder, into his hair, and this is familiar. This feels right, of all things. Of all places.
Loki’s tongue presses into Fandral’s mouth, and he allows it. He feels like that child in Alfheim again, when this was something truly marvelous. He had taken no lover since Loki fell, and his skin aches for more than just this violent kiss.
His eyes burn, and he is not such a child now. He will not mourn what is lost any longer.
Fandral is still surprised by the feel of Loki pressing his hand to the wound, gathering the blood that has mostly stopped flowing on his fingers.
“You are such a fool, love,” Loki says then, and he steps back. There is something malicious in his eyes, something cold, that makes Fandral look away.
“I wanted--” He stops, and he does not know what he wanted. He hasn’t words for what he wanted, knowing full well that it would never happen. Warriors may find pleasure together after a war, but it is just pleasure. He should be shamed by the pull he feels to Loki, the screaming under his skin to touch the man one more time.
“You cannot have it today.” Loki smiles then, and it’s almost his old smile. Fandral looks away again. “Come back tomorrow, and see what you have wrought here.”
Fandral does not flee, but it is close. He walks from Loki’s cell to the Healing chambers, willing the feeling of Loki’s skin away. But it won’t fade. The memories are bright, and perhaps he will allow his eyes to burn with tears later.
He is not surprised to find Thor outside the Healing chamber when he is done there, unscarred once more. He is not surprised to learn that Loki used blood magic to escape his binding and the cell, even if the magic was made to keep Loki from accessing magic through his own blood.
“We will find him again,” he says, and he does not meet Thor’s eyes. He does not lie, though; Fandral will see Loki again, if only for one more moment.
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