Darkness There, and Nothing - CH. 5 - Deep in the Dark

Chapter Five

Deep in the Dark

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"The Chitauri had Sophie because they had Thea…and because they'd captured me."

"Because they'd captured you?" Utterly baffled, Thor shook his head. "I do not understand. Were you and Thea bait with which to trap Sophie?" Loki shook his head, looking exasperated. "Loki, I don't understand. Explain it to me, please."

But the pseudo-Æsir merely shook his head again. "You're out of questions, Brother, and you gave me your word you would leave me in peace. Go now."

"Loki—"

His brother bit out from between clenched teeth, "Get. Out."

Instinct told Thor that pushing Loki now would be a very bad idea. There was a brittle tension in him that the other prince could sense, even though Loki held himself stiff and aloof from Thor. So the crown prince inclined his head in acquiescence, even though everything in him clamored to stay with his little brother, and Thor left the dungeons. He had much to think about…and just perhaps, a plan to set in motion.

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The sun rose and set a half-dozen times without any more progress being made regarding discovering the story of Loki, Thea, and the child known as Sophie. As before, when Loki sensed Thor's presence he would stop whatever he was doing and either sit at the table or lie down on his cot and stare at the ceiling until his foster brother went away again. He hardly responded to any of Thor's questions or promptings, except a few times when the crown prince came to see his brother late in the night. Sometimes then, Thor would speak to Loki for hours at a time, only to receive a small bit of information in return.

"Did you know anything about her family?" Thor might ask near the end of the night.

"Her mother is a musician," Loki would say. "Her father was a brute and a fool that abandoned Thea, her mother, and her siblings."

"What did she look like?"

"You've never seen someone so lovely."

"How old was she?" Thor might ask.

"Too young to die so brutally," Loki would reply, tone arctic, cutting Thor to the bone. "Too young to be caged in the dark and then murdered thanks to the treachery of a supposed kinsman."

But these exchanges were brief and rare. Through them all ran one common vein, however—Loki would, no matter the cost, deliver swift and brutal justice to the Chitauri ruler, Thanos, for what he'd done to Thea and Sophie after he was released from the Asgardian prison. And because of that, Thor at last had something to bargain with. He merely needed his father to agree.

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"Absolutely not," Odin snapped.

Thor gritted his teeth, but didn't lash out under the influence of the hot frustration boiling in his blood. He'd learned his lesson after those three days spent on Midgard. He'd learned what it felt like to know that the last thing ever spoken to a loved one were words drenched in cruelty. So instead of snapping back at Odin, he drew a deep breath and fought for calm.

It had been three weeks since that last full conversation with Loki. Thor chafed under the need to know more of his brother’s story. Something, some instinct, told him that time was of the essence. Now he, his mother, and his father sat alone in his father’s conference room, discussing the matter. Rather, Thor was petitioning Odin for help.

"Father…if Loki is telling the truth…if the Chitauri did what I suspect—imprisoning him, torturing him, and then killing the woman he loved and a child he cared for—do we not owe it to him, and to them, to see them avenged?"

"You should know better than anyone that your…that Loki is incapable of truthfulness. He's manipulating you. He would never fall in love with a Midgardian. Or do you not recall his words to the Midgardian warrior known as Fury? 'An ant has no quarrel with a boot.' That is what he thinks of mortals. Does that sound like a man in love? Does that sound like someone who is being forced to conquer a world? He sought to rule them, not save them. He cared for no one's well-being but his own. Certainly not this Thea or this Midgardian child."

But the crown prince shook his head. "Father, I'm telling you—he spoke with real sincerity! Whoever Thea was, he loved her, and the Chitauri ruler murdered her. I think they were forcing him to lead the invasion by threatening her and then…" And then he’d gotten in his brother’s way. The Asgardian warrior couldn’t regret saving Midgard, helping his new mortal friends and allies…but if he’d known about the woman his brother clearly loved, how would it have changed things? "I believe the Chitauri blackmailed Loki somehow, using Thea and perhaps Sophie."

Odin scoffed. "How? What was this child to Loki? Surely not his own offspring."

Thor shook his head. "I don’t see how she could be; she was too old in the illusion he conjured. But he does care for her. I could see that plainly in how he spoke to her. Somehow he allowed himself to soften towards this child and this woman."

Leaning back in his chair, he turned to Frigga, who sat beside him, quiet and somber in her navy blue gown. Thor bit back a frown. His mother had yet to change out of such dark colors, even now that they’d found Loki and brought him home. Where the strain of Loki’s treachery had manifested in his father as more lines marring his weathered face and a thinning of the thick white hair and snowy beard, it had unfolded in the queen as melancholy impervious to everything Thor and his brothers attempted to raise her spirits.

Frigga brushed her hair back, tucking a stray bronze lock behind her ear. "Thor…I want to believe Loki can be…helped, just as much your father does. Just as much as you do. But what you’re proposing is madness. It could spell ruin for the entire kingdom, perhaps even all nine realms. Loki cannot be trusted as yet."

"Mother, I know him. I know him. Let me try this. Let me attempt to bargain with him. After all, he is the one who must convince Father that he is trustworthy. I’ll make certain he understands that. Please, Mother…I truly believe that this will work. Won’t you let me try? Father, please."

The king and queen exchanged uncertain glances, then Odin turned back to his son. The single burning blue eye roved over Thor’s features as if searching for some sign. The crown prince didn’t know what his father sought; he only gazed back, face regal and gaze beseeching, hoping with all his heart that his father would trust him in this. If Loki was telling the truth…it changed many things. Not everything, but a great deal.

At last Odin sighed. "Even if you are right, even if Loki was blackmailed regarding the mortal realm…what of his betrayal before the shattering of the Bifrost? What of his attack against you? He sent the Destroyer to kill you, attempted to slaughter the Frost Giants. Has he made some excuse about that?"

"No, but I can speak to him about it. My instincts tell me there is more there than any of us know yet. I feel…" Thor lifted his hands as if he could grasp the words from the air. They curled into fists as he sighed. "Father, I feel there is more to all of this than we know."

"And you believe you can convince Loki to give up his secrets so easily?"

"Not easily," Thor contradicted. "But he thirsts for vengeance against Thanos and the Chitauri. It burns in him, Father. I can see it. We can use that to our advantage. Please, Father, let me try!"

Silence stretched between the king and his heir as they regarded each other. Thor couldn’t read his father’s expression. Would Odin understand that Thor could feel something, some small part of Loki, reaching out to him? Like a drowning man desperately reaching for a safe shore, Thor’s younger brother strained toward him, even while his grief-fueled, half-mad rage held him back as surely as iron chains. How to convince Odin of this? Without the full story of what had happened after Loki fell from the Bifrost, Thor didn’t think there was a way to make his father believe.

But finally, the king of Asgard nodded once. "All right. Offer him your bargain. We shall see what happens."

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Thor felt it the moment he stepped into the dungeons. Seiðr, sparking and buzzing with power, rippled through the air and hummed along the corridor leading toward Loki’s cell. A fleeting panic lanced the crown prince, but he suppressed it. Last time he’d felt such power from his brother’s prison, it had been because Loki was summoning the illusion of Sophie. It had been weeks since Loki had attempted such a thing, though. Uneasy, the prince picked up his pace, approaching his brother’s cell with caution. He halted just out of Loki’s line of sight, so that he could observe the pseudo-Æsir without being seen.

As he had that first time, Loki hunched against the plain white wall of his prison, knees drawn up to his chest. But this time both hands were stretched palm-out before him, shaking with some terrible strain. Loki's sleeves were rolled up and chords of muscle strained against the pale flesh. Sweat streamed down the white brow, plastering strands of ebony hair to temples, cheeks, and neck. A terrible light burned in the verdant depths of his gaze as he watched the twining shadows and wisps of emerald light twist together to form the familiar illusion of the dark-haired child Loki called Sophie.

Loki’s breath whistled between his clenched teeth as he struggled against the bonds of his prison. The seiðr that the All-Father had placed around the prison and laced throughout the room vibrated and hummed as the pseudo-Æsir fought to bring his spell to fruition. The ensorcelled glass shield rattled in its casement with the force of the magic battering at it, but the disguised Frost Giant ignored it as he twisted his hands back and forth, as if weaving the magic of the illusion. A thin trickle of blood leaked from both nostrils as Loki leaned forward, brow furrowing in fierce concentration. Wrinkles snarled across Loki's forehead and between his eyebrows.

"I must," Loki whispered, eyes narrowing. "To avoid it is…is cowardice. I must do this." Taking a deep breath, the prince stretched his hands out toward the child and seemed almost to smooth down the air in front of it. As Thor watched, the illusion began to shrink.

No, Thor realized. Not shrink. The girl was getting younger. The dark curls shortened, the child’s body slimmed out and shrunk down as the limbs grew shorter, plumper with baby fat. Loki’s entire body was shaking violently as this point. His breath came in ragged gasps and his chest heaved with the effort of manipulating the illusion. Wetness gleamed in his emerald eyes. Anguish twisted the pale features. Thor frowned. What was his brother doing? And why?

When the illusion showed a child of perhaps two years of age, suddenly Loki jerked his hands back with a sharp intake of breath that was almost a sob. Clutching his hands to his chest as if wounded, he whispered, "I cannot…I cannot. Thea, forgive me, I cannot bear to…"

Somehow the illusion held—though Loki shuddered and sweated—an illusion of a two-year-old girl with wisps of baby-fine black hair in a green velvet smock embroidered in gold, typical Asgardian dress for a child that age of a rich family. The stuffed black bear with its green eyes had made a return, as well, clutched now in the chubby arms of the toddler. The girl’s small head was bent over the bear so that Thor couldn’t see her features.

Why had Loki made her younger? Was he trying to remember a time before the Chitauri? But no, he’d met Sophie after being taken prisoner by the Chitauri, he’d said. Unless he’d been lying. Why was he changing the illusion?

In a voice choked with grief, Loki whispered, "Oh, Sophie…you look so much like your mother. I always wondered if…wondered…little one, forgive me. Forgive me for what they did to you. I’m so sorry."

The illusion lifted its head, but the fall of dark curl and the angle prevented Thor from seeing anything but the chubby roundness of Sophie’s cheek and the delicate curve of her ear. She must have done something, however, because a look of intense pain flashed across Loki’s face and he reached out one trembling hand to her. His fingers touched her cheek before he lifted his hand and laid it atop her head. The thin lips formed a trembling smile and to Thor’s astonishment, a tear welled up from the wet green eyes and spilled down Loki’s cheek.

"You would have been so beautiful when you grew up," he whispered. "Just like your mother. I’m so, so sorry, alskling. I’m so sorry."

He slumped back against the wall as the vision faded and closed his eyes. Thor watched in heartbroken silence as his little brother, who always tried to appear so strong, so indifferent, quietly fell to pieces. A few silent tears slid down his cheeks before he dropped his face into the cup of one hand and merely sat there, silent and still save for the occasional shudder racking his long, lean frame. At last he dropped his head back and heaved a sigh.

"I’m sorry, Thea," Loki murmured, staring up at the ceiling. "I couldn’t do it. I cannot look at her as…as she…I cannot do it. Forgive me."

Loki had sat in silence for several long minutes before Thor had the courage to step out of the shadows and call his brother’s name. Loki didn’t look toward him; merely closed his eyes and sighed.

"I am not in the mood today, Thor. Go away."

"I’ve come to make a bargain with you," the crown prince said, as if he hadn’t seen his brother weeping over the changed illusion of a little girl only moments before. "I want to know what happened to you after you fell from the Bifrost."

Without his customary sneer, Loki murmured, "Don’t you know it is unhealthy to get everything you want?"

Coming to a stop just at the window, Thor said, "We can both have what we want. I have spoken to Father, and he is willing to obey the conditions of this bargain. If you tell me what happened to you—the entire truth, all of it, and you can convince Father—then we will help you get your revenge on Thanos."

Now Loki looked at him, brows slightly furrowed, mild incredulity on his face. Dark shadows circled his eyes; Thor thought he looked a bit like he had on Midgard after the Chitauri had sent him there. How had he not noticed how sick Loki had looked then? Well, other than because he’d been preoccupied with stopping his brother from slaughtering the Midgardians.

"You will…help me…kill Thanos," Loki said. Thor nodded, never taking his eyes from his brother’s face. Loki shook his head slowly, obviously puzzlement twisting his features. "Why would you do that?"

"To kill the villain who murdered the woman my little brother loved."

Closing his eyes, Loki turned his face away. "What do you know about it? Nothing. I never said I loved her. And I doubt the All-Father is going to let me out just so I can seek my revenge."

Thor shrugged. "He has sworn it to me and to Mother. Why would you doubt him?"

The sardonic look Loki hit him with could have drawn blood from a stone. "Forgive me, Brother, but that is a very stupid question. I wouldn’t trust the All-Father as far as I could throw him."

"Then trust me, Brother. Have I ever deceived you?" When Loki said nothing, Thor ran a hand through his hair and tried to think. Sometimes when his little brother was being particularly obstinate, he could get Loki talking by changing the subject a little. Asking a different question. But what question? There were so many he still had…but one, Thor thought, that he really should have asked a while ago.

He had a choice, the crown prince realized. He could satisfy his own curiosity, or he could ensure that the Chitauri weren’t as much of a threat as they all feared. That was, of course, assuming Loki was telling the truth…and assuming Odin believed whatever his foster son said, truth or not. That was why Thor had made the All-Father's belief a hinge-point for Loki's plans for revenge.

"Tell me, Brother…could Thea truly destroy an entire realm with merely a wave of her hand?"

To his surprise, Loki threw back his head and laughed. There was just the faintest mocking edge to the foster prince's amusement, but Thor ignored it. When he'd finally stopped laughing, the pseudo-Asgardian said, "You really are a fool, Thor. Of course she couldn't. No Midgardian I know of possesses that much power. Even Odin cannot do that without the use of his mighty Infinity Gauntlet. You'll believe anything, won't you?"

Bratling, Thor thought, but didn’t say aloud. Now wasn’t the time to indulge in insults. Instead, glaring, Thor demanded, "Had she any power at all?"

The amusement on Loki's face vanished like night mist in the morning sun, to be replaced by something betwixt wistful pain and awe. "Oh, yes. Hers was the wonder of dreams brought to fruition, the power to make memories live again, the magic of illusion as real as life." He held up his hand, curled into a fist, then snapped open his long fingers, flexing them. Staring at his empty palm, Loki murmured, "That was her gift, and the Chitauri desired to study it and its myriad effects once they saw what it could do in battle." Shaking himself as if from a dream, the other prince said coolly to the Asgardian, "But I’m a bit busy at the moment, Brother, so perhaps you'll be a decent fellow and leave me alone. Go polish your helmet."

A muscle twitched in Thor’s jaw. Would his brother never cease mocking him over that blasted helmet? As if his was any better. Feathers versus cow-horns, as they’d jibed each other often enough. But instead of snapping, Thor said, "One last question. A simple one."

"Erm…no."

"It's a very simple question, Loki, it will cost you nothing. In the illusion of Sophie, she held a stuffed bear; black, with green eyes. Where did she get it?" When Loki hesitated, eyeing Thor warily, the prince shrugged. "A simple enough question, is it not?"

A blatant challenge, that. One Loki could not back down from—his pride wouldn’t allow it.

After an excruciating silence, broken only by the crackle of flames and Loki's increasingly harsh breathing, the adopted prince said tersely, "I made it for her…but I never had the chance to gift her with it." Seeing Thor's expression, he added in a voice sharp with accusation, "She was murdered before I had that chance."

And Thor thought of his foster brother weeping silently for the dead child, and felt something twist savagely in his heart. "I am sorry, Loki."

Loki sneered. Viciousness twisted his features and that icy hatred, which Thor had hoped he wouldn't see today—it had been absent until now—filled his brother's gaze like abyssal fire. "Oh, you're sorry. Tell me, Thor, what do you dream of these days? Is it still the glories of war and the pleasure of women?" Before Thor could reply, his younger brother spat, "Do you know what I dream, Brother? Do you know what fills my slumber?" Numbly the crown prince shook his head. "A woman's screams and the sound of a…" Suddenly Loki frowned. Something that might've been horror flickered in his eyes before vanishing. "What is that?"

Puzzled, Thor scanned the corridor, but saw nothing. All was emptiness and shadows dancing across the walls. He turned back to Loki. "What's what?"

"That sound…don't you hear it?"

Thor listened, but there was only the steady drum of his heart and his breathing mingled with his brother's. "I hear nothing. What is it?"

But his younger brother shook his head. "Nothing. My imagination, I suppose." But Thor knew Loki was lying, even as he said, "It doesn't matter. Go away, Thor. You've used up my patience; now you're boring me."

"Tell me what happened, Brother," Thor said softly. "What happened when you fell from the Bifröst? If you tell me, I can help you avenge them. Tell me."

"I owe you no answers."

"Loki, I'm trying to help you! I'm trying to understand! Why do you fight me? Why won't you let me help you?"

In a voice that was a mere thread of sound, a thread that threatened to strangle Thor, the pseudo-Æsir said, "You can't help me, Thor. Every time I look at you I see Thea's blood on your hands. I see Sophie…my little Sophie…her blood…she never even had the chance to…and it was your fault! Your fault they killed her! Your fault she's dead!"

"You didn't tell me! How was I to know?"

"Because you should have known me! You should have trusted me! Why would I butcher innocent people? Why would I invade Midgard, launch an attack on them, without good reason? You should have known there was a reason! You should have left me alone to do what needed to be done instead of interfering!"

Swallowing back sudden rage, Thor demanded, "How was I to know? You tried to kill me, Loki. You usurped the throne in my absence when Father fell into the Odinsleep—"

"Mother declared me king!" Loki snapped, surging to his feet. "I never wanted the throne! I only took it because Balder and Hermod weren’t of age, Vyðarr was off on his coming-of-age quest, you’d gotten yourself exiled, and Mother—"

"What about the Destroyer?" Thor demanded coolly.

Loki snarled an obscenity under his breath. "We have been over this. What do you want me to say?"

"Explain why you sent it to kill me."

"I didn’t," Loki snapped. "I’ve said this before, if you’d been paying attention. I told it to make sure you didn’t come home because if you had, you would have ruined everything."

"Everything? What is everything? What were you trying to do? Slaughter the Frost Giants? Because yes, Brother, I would have ‘ruined’ your attempt to murder an entire race."

Loki thumped his fist against the glass. "How dare you? I was forced to take drastic action in order to clean up your mess. The Frost Giants had declared war on us, Father was in the Odinsleep, we had no idea when he would awaken, and the Fates only know what other trouble you would have brought down on us. Without Father, we couldn’t have won a war against Jotunheim. The Frost Giants would have butchered us all."

Thor stared at him, jaw slightly slack. Loki glared back, eyes blazing with that odd mix of emerald and cerulean again. "What?" Thor mumbled. "You…my mess?"

"I told you to leave the Frost Giants alone. I told you not to go to Jotunheim, I told you to let it go when the Frost Giant lord tried to pick a fight with you, but you—wouldn’t—listen. You sparked the war, remember? Not me. I did what I had to do in order to protect Asgard."

Blinking, flabbergasted, Thor demanded, "That is why you did all of that? To stop the Frost Giants? But why kill them all?"

Loki scoffed. "How else did you expect me to stop them? At first, I thought I would simply get rid of Lauffey, throw the Giants into chaos so they couldn’t move on us. After all, Lauffey had tried to kill me once upon a time, and he desperately wanted to kill Odin. But then I learned I couldn’t trust any of the courtiers here," the smooth voice deepened into an infuriated snarl, "couldn’t trust Heimdall or Sif or the Three. My so-called friends. How was I to win a war, if it came to that, without soldiers I could trust? And I couldn’t trust them because you were the one they wanted! You were the one everyone loved, Mother and Father’s favorite, the true heir to the throne! You left me no choice!"

Unable to shake off his astonishment, Thor said, "Loki…why…but you never said any of this. If this is true, why did you not explain?"

"’If this is true?’ Of course you don’t believe me," Loki hissed. "I am not a fool, Thor. I know you only mean to pry my secrets from me in the hopes of finding some weapon to use against me. You can tell the All-Father what he can do with his little bargain."

"Loki, please," Thor pleaded, leaning in. "Please. I’m trying to help you. I…I have to know what happened. Tell me, and I will help you get your vengeance, Brother. I swear it. But I must know what happened. You say there is blood on my hands," he added softly. "The blood of the woman you loved and the child you cared for." There was an almost imperceptible flinch from Loki. "I must know how it went, Loki. You must tell me."

For a long moment, Thor didn’t know if Loki had even heard him. He didn’t react to Thor’s words, didn’t so much as bat an eye. But then the emerald eyes focused on the crown prince’s face. A savage, mad hatred flared to life in the depths of Loki’s gaze. Unease shivered through Thor as that icy loathing filled his brother’s eyes and suffused his face, turning it into an inhuman mask.

"You must know?" Loki echoed, voice a mere breath saturated with black rage. "Oh, yes, you must know. You need to know the purity and beauty of the lives you snuffed out. You need to know the depths of your sins. Yes, Brother, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you how I met Thea…and how you killed her. And when it’s over, you will help me hunt Thanos and put an end to him. Then I’ll give you the knife and let you cut your own throat as penance for what you have done."

Blankness descended over Loki's face, erasing hatred and its underpinnings of grief or loss or regret or manipulation. Loki moved to the table and sank down into the chair, never taking his eyes from his brother.

"When you dropped me off the edge of the Bifrost, I tumbled through the void of space, through its deathly cold and its star-spangled blackness until at last I plummeted through noxious silver-gray clouds of some poisonous miasma. At last I hit solid earth. The impact jarred my skull, shattered several bones. Only luck kept me from breaking my neck."

Thor's eyes widened, but Loki seemed not to notice.

"For what felt like an eternity I could do nothing but lie there with my body racked by the pain of my injuries," he continued tonelessly. "What your monstrous green friend did to me was nothing compared to that time. My blood soaked the sand and stones beneath my body and the moon burned white against my eyelids until I saw it always, sleeping and waking. I see it still when I close my eyes. And then　they　found me."

He was almost afraid to interject, but Loki fell quiet and did not speak for so long that Thor had to ask, "Thea and Sophie?"

Loki shook his head. "No. That would be too easy for you. No, I did not meet Thea for sometime after that and as for…as for Sophie…"

Though his face remained empty of expression, though his tone was as hollow as that of a dead man speaking in a dream, a terrible agony filled his eyes. For Thor, it was as if looking into his brother's gaze was like being raked with poisoned jade talons that burned like acid. It was the same agony he’d seen when Loki had wept over the illusion of a younger Sophie.

"As for Sophie," Loki somehow managed to continue, though his voice shook and his eyes gleamed as if wet. "I did not…I never…I was never allowed…never truly…"

The pale lips quivered and Loki covered his mouth with one shaking hand, looking away. Thor wondered what could possibly crack Loki's composure so. Who　was　Sophie, that she affected the green-eyed prince so dramatically?

At last, his younger brother spoke again, his voice somewhat steadier. "No, it was not Thea who found me, but the Chitauri. They brought me to their fortress and healed my wounds. Throughout the weeks it took for my bones to knit and my injuries to mend, the second-in-command of the Chitauri armies came to me often with an offer—a command couched in pretty words. I was to join their ranks, for they knew of my powers. They wanted the Nine Realms, and they wanted my help in conquering them. If I agreed, I would become king of my own realm, and win glory for myself and the mighty Chitauri Empire. If I refused…well, one does not refuse Thanos for long."

But Thor knew his younger brother, and knew that receiving an order like that would have been tantamount to a slap in the face to Loki. As proud as Odin had raised his foster son to be and as proud as Asgardians naturally were—as proud as Loki had always been—there was no chance the green-eyed prince had accepted such an offer, threats or no.

"So they imprisoned you."

A regal cant of the head acknowledged Thor's words. "And though I was left to die if I did not give in, though it was as if I'd been sealed away inside a death-casket and left to rot in the wet dark earth like a moldering corpse, I did not give into their demands. I refused to take part in their invasion of Asgard and Midgard."

Thor jolted. "Asgard?" He echoed sharply. "They wanted Asgard?"

Loki smirked. "Thanos, Lord of the Chitauri, fancies himself in love with Death's fairest Avatar, my brother. He slaughters trillions in an attempt to win her favor, in his mad lust to woo her. Of course the Chitauri want Asgard. Don't you understand, Brother? The Chitauri want the universe."

A chill settled in the pit of Thor's stomach. He knew the Chitauri hadn't been killed during their invasion of Midgard, merely thwarted. He knew they could return at any time…or turn their sights somewhere else, like the realm of Asgard. The All-Father would have to be told; Heimdall would have to be enlisted to spy upon the battle-crazed invaders, to monitor their movements should they choose to aim for the home of the Æsir. If it came to war, Asgard would—

"They locked me away in the darkness," Loki whispered. Thor's attention snapped back to his brother, who stared unblinking and unseeing into the hearth fire. His throat worked convulsively for a moment. Then he said, almost as if he were speaking to himself, "The darkness has eyes and teeth, claws to rake and fangs to bite. It presses against your eyes until there is only blackness slithering into your skull to devour your mind. Silence deafens, darkness blinds. Hunger gnaws and thirst burns. They gave me just enough to keep me alive, just enough to keep the pain sharp in my throat and in my belly. I thought I would go mad in the dark. I thought I would shatter under the silence. And then…"

Those sightless eyes suddenly focused again, coming to rest on Thor's frozen countenance. Some of the hollow sickness festering in that gaze faded, to be replaced with a dull sort of agony. Somehow Thor knew just what his brother would say next.

"Then I heard her voice, muffled by the stone wall. It had been so long since I'd heard another being speak. So long. I’d lost count of the days, the weeks…the months. I heard her as she raged at the Chitauri, demanding to know who they were, what they wanted. She shouted that her mother would come after them, would make them pay if she wasn’t released…and then she said something interesting. She said that she would never, ever, so long as she lived, use her powers for HYDRA."

Thor's brow furrowed. He knew of HYDRA; Coulson had explained that SHIELD, the Midgardian organization in place to protect the country known as America, had its enemies. The greatest of these was the foreign group called HYDRA. But he'd also been told that most Midgardians didn't know of these organizations…so how had Thea learned of it? Or had Loki plucked the name from the mind of the Midgardian archer known as Hawkeye?

"How did she know of them?" Thor asked, eyeing his brother. Was that the smallest quirk of a smile curving the corner of Loki's mouth? "Was she a member of SHIELD?"

Loki arched a brow. "No. She learned of them from the one you call Coulson."

Darkness There, and Nothing - CH. 4 - No Friendly Drop to Help Me After

Chapter Four

No Friendly Drop to Help Me After

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The question you should ask is not what was she to me, Thor. The proper question is, what was she to　you?

Loki's words reverberated through Thor's skull as he lay in bed that night, staring into the darkness of his chamber as if that would give him some insight into his brother's cryptic words. No epiphany emerged from the shadows. No moment of enlightenment found the crown prince, in waking or in dreams. He woke the next morning near dawn, bleary-eyed, head aching from the questions circling in his mind. Who was Sophie, this child who was somehow connected to Loki and, apparently, to Thor? How had Loki found her? How had he come to care so deeply for her? And care for her he did; Thor couldn't find it in himself to discount his foster brother's visceral reactions whenever Sophie came up in conversation. What did the child have to do with the mysterious Thea?

The prince was still pondering all of this as he trudged into the dining hall and slumped onto the bench. Within moments Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun had taken spots on either side and across from him. Remaining in a fog of exhaustion, Thor basically ignored the Warriors Three as they filled their plates and began eating. It was only when Fandral and Volstagg both fell silent that Thor realized one of them must have said something to him, and he'd missed it.

"Thor," the corpulent Volstagg said, catching the other Asgardian's eye. "Will you not take some time to spar with us this morning?"

He shook his head. After he finished his meal, he needed to speak to Loki again. He'd already reported yesterday's happenings to his mother; now he needed to know more. He couldn't leave things as they were between himself and his little brother. Like a boorish idiot, he'd lashed out at Loki in attempt to get him to speak, attacking the only two things that seemed to be capable of truly hurting him—the mysterious Thea and Sophie.

"Sif will be there," Fandral added, then casually took a sip of wine. Thor frowned at him.

"Where?"

Now all three of his friends were staring at him. As if speaking to a particularly dull child, Fandral said, "At our sparring session. In the salle. Which we just invited you to."

Thor shook his head. "I can't. I have an important matter to attend to."

There was a long silence. It was Hogun, who was so taciturn that many called him Hogun the Grim, who finally broke that silence. "You are going to see Loki." He waited for Thor to cant his head in acknowledgement before adding, "You are with him often these past weeks." Thor said nothing, thinking of the illusion of the child called Sophie, and the unknown Thea, and Loki's claim that the Chitauri had imprisoned him. It was not something to share with his friends. Not yet, if ever. Hogun sighed. "He cannot be helped, Thor. He is lost."

"You do the queen a disservice by making her think otherwise," Fandral added softly. Thor shot him a look of glacial sapphire and his friend mumbled an apology, hiding from the prince's ire behind his goblet of wine. Silence fell again. Any attempts at restarting the conversation were feeble, easily shot down with one slashing look from Thor.

At last the Asgardian prince decided he could eat no more, and rose from the table. His friends—three brave warriors who had once been Loki's friends as well—watched him go. Their gazes were heavy on his back as he left the dining hall.

.

The walk to the dungeon hall led the prince down corridors of stone that echoed with his footsteps and shaded pathways where sunlight dappled across the floor and briefly warmed his skin. Beyond the arched roofs, he could see the sun still soft and golden with the last kiss of dawn in the sky with its peach and amber clouds. Birds sang to welcome the new morning. Thor sighed, wondering if his little brother missed sunrises, sunsets. Loki had always been fond of the stars, as well. Did he miss being able to gaze up at the star-studded night sky?

From morning light to timeless shadow, Thor stepped into the dungeons, where only torches held back to darkness. With every step the birdsong grew dimmer and dimmer, until it had been silenced all together, leaving only oppressive quiet.

Have you ever been shut up in pitch blackness for so long that you cannot remember the feel of the wind, the song of the Asgardian Sea roaring over the edge of the abyss, the sight of sunlight or moonlight or even the faint glimmer of the stars? Have you any idea what it's like, to be wrapped in silence so absolute that you only have the sound of your heart roaring in your ears and your own screams to listen to?

Did the shadows and the quiet remind Loki of his time in the Chitauri dungeons? Or the time he claimed to have spent, anyway? What had helped him through such terrible times, Thor wondered? He resolved to ask his brother when he arrived at his cell.

But Thor slowed as he approached when he heard a snide voice ask, "Another drawing? Quite the artist, aren’t you, little brother?"

Tyr, Thor thought, rolling his eyes. Didn't his older brother have anything better to do an hour after dawn besides taunt Loki? Tryst with a chambermaid or get drunk, for instance? Or pound on someone in the practice yard? Squaring his shoulders, he picked up the pace.

"I've heard the guards say you're drawing a woman," Tyr continued to jeer at his foster brother. A jolt of electricity snapped through Thor's body. A woman? Was it Thea? "Feeling lonely, are we, little Frost Giant? Who is she, the woman in your drawings? Your current favorite? Maybe I should pay her a visit; she must be something special if she can hold your interest this long. What's her name?"

"If you do not stop talking, I will—"

"You'll what?" Tyr demanded, laughing. "Reach through the shielded glass and kill me? As if you could. And even if you were able to, well…Thor would really hate you then. And what would Mother and Father say? That would be your second attempt at fratricide. Who's next on your list? Balder? Besides, you don’t need to answer. I merely wished to see if you would. I already know your woman's name. Thea, wasn't it?"

At that, Thor launched into a run just as the sound of something heavy hitting glass echoed down the corridor. Thor rounded the corner to see Loki plastered to the large pane of ensorcelled glass, lips twisted into a feral snarl, eyes blazing. Only Tyr's broad back and the back of his crow-dark hair were visible to Thor, but the prince was fairly certain his elder brother was sneering.

"Shut up!" Loki yelled. "Shut up!"

"Oh-ho!" Tyr folded his massive arms across his chest and laughed. "Well, well, well. Don't you remember Mother's lessons about sharing, Brother? I promise not to hurt the silly little slut. I only mean to—"

But Loki rammed the glass hard enough that even Tyr went quiet. Dark brows knotted, shoulders and chest heaving with every ragged breath, Loki spat from between clenched teeth, "Get. Out. You filthy swine, get out!"

"Swine, am I?" Tyr's voice turned savage. "You treacherous little bast—"

"Tyr!" Thor snapped, imbuing his voice with that regal coldness his father had taught him in his youth. His elder brother turned and grinned when he saw Thor, glacier-blue eyes warming slightly, but the grin slipped away when he caught sight of the crown prince's expression. Tyr opened his mouth to say something but Thor cut ruthlessly cut him off. "You will not speak to Loki, or of someone under his protection, with such disrespect."

Clearly flabbergasted, the elder prince said, "Thor…he's under house arrest. Bor's ghost, he's in prison."

Icily, Thor said, "Which changes nothing. He is still a prince of the royal household."

"He's a Frost Giant," Tyr hissed.

"He is my brother and a prince of Asgard, and you will speak to him and of him with respect, or I shall take this matter to the king," Thor snapped. Wide-eyed, Tyr offered him a mocking, truncated bow and shoved past him, disdaining to bid him a proper goodbye. Thor didn't care. He didn't know what had possessed him to threaten his elder brother with kingly interference, since Odin probably would have done nothing—he'd yet to even reprimand Tyr for his jibing Loki—but the half-insane rage and grief in Loki's eyes had forced Thor to act before he'd actually formed a thought.

Dismissing his elder brother for the moment, the crown prince focused on his younger brother. Loki's forehead was pressed to the glass; he ignored the needle-pricks of the seiðr meant to keep him imprisoned. His hands had relaxed from their tense fists. Now they lay palm-down against the window. Loki's breathing had evened out. He no longer panted for breath like a rabid wolf.

"Why?" Loki demanded softly, not looking up at Thor.

"Why what?" Thor replied, voice just as soft.

"Why did you defend me to him?" Because Loki kept his head bent, Thor couldn't quite gauge the new expression twisting his face. "Maintaining unity among the ranks, were you? Except Tyr is your brother—your real brother. So why?"

A sigh heaved through the prince, then he gestured to a guard for a chair. He'd made provisions to have one brought last night. Now the guard dragged the comfortable seat to the big Asgardian, who dropped into it with another sigh. Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on his knees and studied his younger foster brother—the bowed head, the slumped shoulders, the exhaustion in every line of his body. Had Loki been sleeping these last several weeks? Seconds ticked by in silence, then minutes. Loki didn't move. Neither did Thor. It was almost like those staring games they'd played as boys, seeing who would blink first. In the end, they both moved at the same time, Thor leaning back as Loki lifted his head.

Thor folded his arms across his chest. "I'll make you a bargain, Brother. For every question of yours I answer, you answer one of mine. Deal?" He ignored the pang that always shot through him when he thought of deals…when he thought of Jane.

Pale lips pursed as Loki considered. After a moment, the disguised Frost Giant nodded slowly. "Very well…but the answers to the questions must be of equal value. I'll not trade my soul for the knowledge of what you ate for breakfast."

Inclining his head, Thor replied, "Fair enough. Why did I defend you to Tyr? Because you're his brother and he has no right to attack you in such a way; because no matter what you've done, no matter that the king has judged you a criminal, you don't deserve to be tormented by your own kin; and because you're my little brother, and that's what elder brothers are supposed to do for their little brothers."

Pushing away from the glass, Loki scoffed. "When will you get it through your thick skull that I'm adopted?"

Unperturbed, Thor asked, "When will you get it through yours that I don't care?" Loki shot him an indecipherable look, but said nothing. "I've known you were adopted since before I came to Midgard to bring you home. Do you think it mattered then? It didn't. It certainly doesn't matter to me now."

"Well, then, what about…" A muscle flexed in Loki's jaw, and his hands convulsed into fists before he forced them to relax. "What about…Thea? She is no kin of yours. Why should you defend her to Tyr?"

"Because it is very obvious to me that you cared about her a great deal," Thor said gently, "and Tyr should respect that, as I do."

This time his little brother's expression was clear as a cloudless sky. "Oh?" He snarled. "Do you?"

"I should not have said what I did yesterday," Thor said. "I was angry. You're very good at provoking me. But then, that's what little brothers are supposed to do to their elder brothers, so I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised."

Loki stared at him for a long moment, then asked, "Are you drunk?"

Startled, Thor blinked. "No. Why?"

"Did Fandral get you to drink poppy juice again?"

"Get me to…no. Why?"

Long moments of intense scrutiny passed, then emerald eyes at last looked away and Loki said wearily, "Why are you here, Thor?"

"Because I promised you I would listen."

A wry chuckle echoed down the corridor as Loki shook his head. "We both know you're incapable of pulling that off. I told you to go away. So why are you here?"

"Because I promised."

The two brothers regarded each other for a few moments. Loki stood beside the fireplace now, slender arms folded and laid against the side of the fireplace mantel. His face was thin, and paler than ever, his eyes vibrant jade against his unhealthy pallor. There were dark shadows beneath those eyes, firming Thor's conclusion that he hadn't slept, and Thor saw that Loki's nails on the hand closest to the window were ragged and torn to the quick, bloodied in places. Scrapes marred his knuckles. What had he been doing to himself?

"My turn for questions now," Thor said, "unless you have something else you wish to ask." When Loki shook his head, the prince asked, "How did Thea die?" Because if Loki had killed her, then there was no point in continuing the conversation; if Loki could kill someone he cared for as deeply as he obviously seemed to care for Thea, then he was capable of anything, any treachery.

Dropping his chin to rest atop his forearms, Loki replied in a tight voice, "The Chitauri killed her. Poison."

"Were you with her?" Thor pressed.

A slow, somber shake of the head as jade eyes stared off into the distance, gazing down roads of memory. "No…but I should have been."

Baffled, Thor asked, "Why?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, shifting to grip the mantel tightly with one hand, Loki drew a short, sharp breath. Let it out slowly, as if fighting for control of himself. He bowed his head; his hair fell around his face like an inky curtain, obscuring Thor's view of his expression. He rasped, "Why does it matter?"

"Because you feel guilty for not being with her when she died," Thor said gently. "I want to know why." When Loki said nothing, he added, "Do you remember when we were boys, and Tyr stole your favorite storybook? Ripped out the pages and threw the binding on the midden pile? You remember that; I can see you do." Loki shook his head and rolled his eyes, but when Thor just stared at him, he gave a grudging nod. "You remember how Mother found you crying in your room and you wouldn't tell her what had happened? You wouldn’t explain to Father, to Víðarr or Hermod or even Balder, and we could always talk to Balder. You wouldn't speak to anyone…but you spoke to me. You trusted me then."

"I was a boy," Loki said coolly. "Children will trust where they shouldn't. Look at your precious mortal. Midgardians are very much like children, and your little Midgardian trusted in your promise to return…and yet here you are."

Anger flashed through the Asgardian prince, but he swallowed it back—with difficulty. Giving into his anger had pushed Loki away every time. He couldn't afford to let that happen. It seemed as if, despite his younger brother's reticence, they were making a little more headway. He wouldn’t let that progress slip through his fingers. So he tamped down the irritation and regret that always plagued him when he thought of Jane, and focused on his little brother.

"I wish you would trust me, Loki."

"Yes, of course I'm going to trust you when you are the reason I'm here in the first place instead of with—" He cut off abruptly, glaring fiercely at the prince. A malevolent spark burned in the depths of absinthe-green eyes.

"Tell me," Thor said softly. "What were you going to say? Who are you supposed to be with? Tell me, Brother."

But his brother shook his head. "I will not be tricked into baring my soul for your twisted pleasure, Odinson. I owe you no answers."

"You promised to answer my questions, Brother. I'll forego the second to receive an answer to the first—why do you feel guilty for not being with her when she died? Because you could have saved her?"

"No," Loki spat. "I couldn't have saved her. You made sure of that."

"Then why—"

"Because I promised her!" Loki suddenly snarled, taking a single shaking step toward Thor. A feverish light burned in his eyes as he cried, "She was afraid to die alone. She was so afraid, and so I promised her, only to be far from her side when she succumbed at last. Because of you! She died, alone and frightened and in pain, because of you!"

"Loki—"

"Do you know what Chitauri poison does? To a mortal woman? To a child? To an…" He trailed off and turned away, to slam his fist into the wall. It left a smear of blood on the white stone, but it didn't seem to affect the pseudo-Æsir at all. Pressing his hands flat to the wall, he hunched his shoulders and bowed his head, mumbled something so softly under his breath that Thor couldn't hear it.

"Loki…Brother, I never meant…"

His brother twisted around, green eyes blazing, and he fixed the Asgardian prince with a hostile look. "I don't care what you meant. That doesn't bring her back. That doesn't bring either of them back! That doesn't erase the fact that Thea's last hours were filled with suffering and agony. I was told her death was a hard one, that she died cursing my name with her last breath for betraying that vow. But then, I suppose you're not surprised that I didn't keep my promise. After all, I'm never sincere, am I?"

Thor stared at him, at the way he shuddered, the sweat dampening his forehead and temples, the anguish in his eyes. Suffering and agony…because of Thor, because he'd stopped his little brother from murdering innocent people…at least, that’s what Loki claimed. Though he wasn’t certain of the verity of the details, Thor believed Thea had died, and died a hard death, for it to strike Loki so.

"I'm sorry, Loki, for what happened to her," Thor murmured. And he was; surely his brother could see that. After struggling with the idea that it might not be the best question under the circumstances, Thor finally asked his brother, "Did you love her?" He knew the answer, or was fairly certain he did…but he wanted to hear what Loki would say.

The disguised Frost Giant scoffed, sounding weary again. He leaned against the mantel. "Don't be stupid. I? Love a mortal? A mere child compared to our kind? You really are a blithering idiot, Thor."

And yet…the words didn't quite ring so sincerely this time. Or was that lack of sincerity just another ploy of Loki's to manipulate his foster brother? Ignoring his brother's hostility—the only way they'd actually have a conversation that lasted more than five minutes that didn't involve curses and shouting—Thor asked, "What were you muttering before?"

"Nothing," Loki snapped, his expression hardening. "A bit of verse that seemed apt; you wouldn't know it, it is from Midgard." A momentary softness crossed his face. "Thea told it to me," he said, as if to himself. "She had a gift for remembering such things."

"Will you not share it with me?"

Loki shot him a look that plainly said he was intruding on some important private recollecting with his very stupid question. "Why? It's not important."

"Then why not tell me?"

Shoving off from the mantel, Loki replied, "Because you're wasting my time. But since you'll not cease whining for it like a neglected puppy, I suppose I must indulge you." Staring into the fire, voice empty of any emotion, he recited as if dead, "'What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been her timeless end: O churl! Drunk all, and left…'" There was a hitch in Loki's voice, just the slightest waver, before he concluded, "'And left no friendly drop to help me after?'"

Wondering how to keep Loki talking, Thor murmured, "I didn't know her fate was mixed into the balance, Brother. Why didn't you tell me about her?"

Exhausted emerald eyes flicked to him, then away. "It wouldn't have changed anything; you wouldn't have believed me." A pause, then Loki asked in an emotionless voice, "Do you even believe me now?"

"I see how much her death has hurt you."

Verdant eyes drifted shut. "Oh, you see, do you, Brother? You see. Tell me, what do you know of pain, Thor? What have you ever truly lost during the span of your perfect life?"

"For one terrible night and day, I thought Father was dead," Thor said coolly, and he thought he saw Loki flinch, almost imperceptibly…but it might have been his imagination. "You told me Father was dead. You looked me in the eye and lied to me, made me think that the last thing I'd ever said to my father, the last thing I would ever be able to say to him, was that he was an old man and a fool." Loki said nothing, but his expression seemed to soften for a moment, and his eyes when they opened seemed full of sorrow. Acting on instinct, Thor didn't push the moment of softening. He merely asked, keeping his voice as gentle as he could, "And what of the child, Sophie? How did she die?"

Loki's eyes widened and his features twisted as if he'd been stabbed. His hand crept toward his heart before tightening into a fist. He squeezed his eyes shut. For several moments his throat worked convulsively, and he swallowed hard. The color drained from his face. Thor had to fight the urge to jump to his feet and demand if his brother was all right.

"Poison," Loki choked out, and the misery and hatred saturating that one word struck Thor like a fist to the belly. "The same as her…the same as Thea. And for that, when my sentence is ended here, I will hunt down Thanos, even if I must sojourn to the ends of the universe, and I will drive a sword through his heartless chest. I'll have his blood, even if I have to crawl over broken glass for it. Even if I have to drink it. Nothing in this universe will stop me from killing him."

Loki locked eyes with Thor and the crown prince's brow furrowed. Somehow, in the light, his brother's eyes looked almost electric blue. It was there for a moment, a flicker of all-too-familiar cerulean, before it faded away, leaving only viridian in its wake. Had the crown prince simply imagined that change? He couldn't be sure, but it reminded him of…of something. Nonplussed, Thor tried to find something to say, but could think of nothing. He could only stare at his brother, at the mad gleam of hatred burning in his gaze, before Loki cleared his expression of all emotion.

With a sigh, Loki moved to the table and sank into his chair. Papers covered the smooth wooden surface of the table, many filled with Loki's handwriting. A few seemed to display unfinished sketches, but they sat at such angles that Thor couldn't decipher them. For several long moments Loki shifted papers to and fro, eyeing them with a strange apathy. Then the pseudo-Æsir held up his pointer-finger as if in warning.

"One question left, Thor," he said tonelessly. "Use it wisely."

Buying time to figure out a good question, Thor sat back and watched his brother as Loki picked up a half-done sketch and studied it with an unearthly intensity. Emerald eyes narrowed as they took in every charcoal-etched feature. The Asgardian prince wished he was in a position to see the drawing but…wait…

"May I see that?" Thor asked, a spark of triumph beginning to grow in his chest. If Loki was drawing the Midgardian woman who seemed to constantly occupy his thoughts, then at last Thor could put a face to her. But his hopes plummeted when his brother sneered and denied him. So much for getting his hands on one of the drawings. Ponderous silence descended once more.

At last, unable to think of anything more pertinent, he asked, "Why did the Chitauri even have a child like Sophie?"

Loki sighed, shoulders slumping. He dropped the drawing to the table and let his head fall backward against the chair. Closing his eyes, he passed his hands over his face, as if attempting to smooth away any telling emotions. Thor merely waited for his brother to speak. At last Loki said, "If I say this, I want no more questions. I will answer no more questions. Do you hear me? You will leave me in peace."

"As you wish, Brother. After this, I'll go. You'll not see me until tomorrow."

"Very well," Loki murmured. "The Chitauri had Sophie because they had Thea…and because they'd captured me."

Darkness There, and Nothing - CH.3 - What Was She to You

Chapter Three

What Was She to You?

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.

Thor stared at his younger foster brother, unsure if he'd heard correctly. Loki gazed back at him impassively. Not a flicker betrayed him. But then, his brother had always been a good liar. He'd had centuries upon centuries of practice. After all, hadn't Loki fooled Thor—fooled them all—for however long he'd been plotting to usurp the crown prince and take the Asgardian throne? Why should Thor be surprised that his little brother could lie convincingly?

But the words the crown prince had spoken only the day before slipped into Thor's mind, taunting him with the echoes of a promise made to the younger foster brother who might just be going mad.

Loki, I don't understand. Please, explain it to me…Why should I bother? Loki had asked. You won't listen…I will, Thor had said. He'd promised to listen. And when Loki had predicted, You won't believe, Thor had promised to try. Perhaps such an oath had been rash, because how could he believe that Loki had gone from the Chitauri's unwilling prisoner to their general and the leader of their invading force? It was preposterous.

"The cell next to yours?" Thor echoed, not even bothering to hide his disbelief. "Did you take it and feign imprisonment in an attempt to woo the girl's confidences? Gain her trust? What did she have that the Chitauri could want so badly?" Was this Thea that Loki spoke of even really dead? Did she even exist?

The green-eyed prince shook his head wearily. For a moment there was something in the disguised Frost Giant's face that caught Thor's eye, an almost-feral desperation—there one instant, gone the very next, pulling at the concern always hanging over Thor like a threatening cloudburst. But then, replacing that whisper of bestial phobos, was Loki's familiar disdain. Rolling his eyes, he sneered, "Of course that was my design. After all, of course the Chitauri would seek to harness the power to destroy entire worlds in an eye-blink, with just the wave of a hand."

Thor's eyes widened. Horror shivered through him. Could his enemies truly possess such power? Midgardians were advancing at a frightening pace. Some of them, like Banner and Steven, possessed powers beyond the norm for their species. Could there be a Midgardian as powerful as Loki claimed? Then if the Chitauri ever returned to Midgard in full force, they could wipe out the mortals in seconds. Blue eyes stared at Loki in dismay as the pseudo-Æsir's thin lips curved into a smirk.

"Such power, and all in the hands of a single Midgardian. Truly a powerful weapon. Of course the Chitauri wanted her abilities under their control. Once the girl fell under my power, it was a simple enough matter, wooing her to our side."

Thor stepped back from the ensorcelled glass. The buzz of the seiðr dissipated as he put distance between himself and the containment spells. Sick disappointment churned in his stomach, mingling with the ever-present simmer of anger. Silence descended, broken only by the snap and crackle of the torches in the corridor. Shadows danced along the walls while coldly enraged blue eyes locked with taunting emerald.

"You almost had me fooled, Brother," Thor muttered, no little bitterness tingeing the words. He'd thought they were making progress. He had truly thought he was getting through to Loki a little. But it had all been a cruel little game to his brother. What was the crown prince supposed to tell Frigga? "I should have known better than to trust anything you said," he added softly. "A soldier for the Chitauri to the end, I suppose? You tricked the girl into using her powers for your twisted master and then killed her yourself, did you? And here you had me feeling sorry for you."

A flash of vicious hatred and something that might have been betrayal in Loki's eyes should've sliced Thor to the bone; he tried to shove the feel down, where he could ignore it. Surging to his feet, Loki stalked forward. The smirk was gone; all traces of amusement had vanished. In a voice smoldering with abyssal fire, Loki snarled, "Sorry for me. You felt sorry for me. Let me be the first to tell you how very much I appreciate your pathetic and so-sincere sentiment, Brother."

Pale hands slammed against the glass. Under Loki's strength, normal glass would have buckled, cracks spiderwebbing across the smooth panes before shattering under the blow. The enchanted window merely shuddered in its frame. Sparks of blue magic shot across the pane in incandescent waves. Loki pressed his forehead against the sparking, crackling glass, despite the fact that the seiðr had to be pushing at him, vainly attempting to shove him back with little needle-pricks of pain against his skin.

From between clenched teeth Loki spat, "Are you stupid? Are you blind?" Thor bristled, but before he could snap a reply, Loki jerked his hands back from the glass and brought them crashing forward again. The glass rattled harder under this second blow. The magic in it blazed with cobalt fire that reflected like dancing flames in Loki's eyes. The younger prince added with savage heat, "You sanctimonious idiot! You really are a fool. Will you believe anything I spoon-feed you? You've not changed at all."

Squaring his shoulders, Thor said coolly, "I'll not be toyed with, Loki."

Loki sneered at him. Thor's fist ached to knock that sneer off his brother's face. His fingers convulsed into a fist so tight his knuckles ached with the strain. Loki's voice dripped contempt when he hissed, "But you make it so disgustingly easy, Brother."

With a roar like an enraged lion, the crown prince took two furious strides forward and brought his fist down on the glass. It shuddered under the impact of his fist. Both princes seemed surprised by this flash of temper from Thor, but Loki's surprise quickly morphed into disdainful amusement. Thor narrowed his eyes as thin, pale lips curled into a cat-like smile. His heart hammered like Mjölnir in his chest as fresh anger flooded his veins like molten iron.

"Fates rot your soul, Loki," Thor thundered. A knife-thin black brow winged upward in mocking inquiry. Every word picked up more volume as Thor bellowed, "For once in your life, abandon your webs of falsehood and tell me the truth!"

The words echoed in the corridor. Thor's chest heaved as he fought to control his breathing, fought to cool his not-inconsiderable temper, fed by hurt, and bring it to heel. Loki merely regarded him with unfathomable emerald eyes. The contempt and condescension faded from his expression, leaving it blank as a brand new sheet of paper. Something impossible to read glittered in the depths of that jewel-gaze as the two brothers regarded each other. At last Loki's mouth curved into a smile with just a trace of mockery in it—mockery aimed at Loki himself, Thor thought with some surprise, not at the crown prince. Loki nodded slowly, as if coming to a decision.

"The truth?" Loki murmured conversationally. He shook his head as if in disbelief and pulled away from the glass, turning his back on Thor to amble over to the table and chair that he so often occupied during these visits. As if too weary to stand any longer, Loki slumped into the chair and stretched out his long legs. Long fingers trembled as they reached for a single sheet of paper on the table.

From his semi-distant vantage point, Thor could see the cramped, spidery handwriting that filled the entire page. The top-most line was the only part of the thing discernible from that distance. The Asgardian thought he saw a word beginning with "A"…but couldn't quite make it out. That small detail seemed important, though he couldn't have explained why.

Loki's eyes roved over the paper for a long moment of silence before he dropped it to the table again. Then he lifted his gaze to Thor's. "You want the truth? Truly?"

His anger finally under control once more, Thor nodded. "It is all I have ever wanted from you, Loki." Silently he pleaded with his brother. Work with me, Loki, he tried to say with his gaze. Will you not help me to help yourself, Brother? Tell me the truth.

Loki sighed and leaned back. Propping his elbow the arm of the chair, he brought his hand to his mouth and draped two fingers across his lips as Thor had seen him do when considering a difficult problem. After a time, Loki nodded again and fixed his brother with a look that was almost pitying. 

"I shall give you the truth, then, since you want it so much."

He straightened, dropping his arms so they draped across his thighs. He leaned forward, jade eyes piercing, and stared at Thor like a serpent watching a mouse. A strange unease shivered through the Asgardian under the full weight of that gaze.

Loki swallowed audibly and a shudder rippled through his tall, lean frame. "Tell me, Brother…do you have any idea what it is to be locked away in a dank, dark pit for days, weeks, months on end?" Loki's brow arched upward as Thor's brows furrowed. "Do you know what it's like, Thor, to be trapped in a box so small you can't take three paces, nor even stand without stooping, but are forced to crawl like a worm?"

Thor opened his mouth to reply…and found he had no words. He couldn't imagine Loki crawling. He couldn't imagine anyone having the audacity to try and make him do so. Even when he'd stood before Odin to receive the judgment of the All-Father for his crimes against both Midgard and Asgard, Loki had stood tall, refusing to kneel before a man he named "a treacherous liar." And Loki hadn't seemed to be crawling under the cruel weight of the Chitauri's torments when he'd murdered Coulson or overseen the attack on the mortal city of Manhattan. When he'd stabbed Thor after the Asgardian had pleaded with him one last time to surrender and come home. What fetters had bound him then?

The fetters that bind me are stronger than any that Father could devise…The words echoed in Thor's brain, a whisper of doubt that he ruthlessly shoved away. Let Loki spin his lies like a slender, black spider biding time in the center of his web intent on ensnaring the crown prince as his prey. Let him try to spin his web of falsehoods. Thor would have none of it.

But there was the memory of his anguish when he'd called up the vision of the little girl. Sophie. If the child didn't exist, if she were merely a tool for Loki's latest scheme, then where had he even heard such a name? And what if she did exist? If she and Thea were in fact real…what had wrung such grief from Thor's brother? Why had he needed to swear to protect young Sophie, and from what? And what had caused him to fail?

What was Thor supposed to believe?

He focused once more on Loki as the steady voice suddenly wavered and trailed away. Wrinkles furled between Loki's brows and he bit his lip hard enough that a white spot stood out against the flesh. The pseudo-Æsir pressed his palms flat to the table, bowing his head so that strands of inky hair spilled across his face, hiding his features. Breathing ragged with some unknown strain filled the otherwise quiet chamber and the corridor beyond.

Finally Loki rasped, "Have you ever been shut up in pitch blackness for so long that you cannot remember the feel of the wind, the song of the Asgardian Sea roaring over the edge of the abyss, the sight of sunlight or moonlight or even the faint glimmer of the stars? Have you any idea what it's like, to be wrapped in silence so absolute that you only have the sound of your heart roaring in your ears and your own screams to listen to?" Loki's hands knotted into fists so tight they shook. "Do you know what it is to be clawed at so savagely by thirst that you'd drink the blood of the rats scuttling around in your cell in order to quench it, only to choke on the poisonous salt of it? Have you ever known hunger so savage it tears at your guts like rabid wolves until you think you must eat something—slop or sawdust or glass, anything—or you'll go mad with the pain tearing at your belly?"

Dark lashes drifted down to make black crescents against Loki's pale cheeks as he turned his head away, as if unable to look at his brother any longer. He drew a sharp, shuddering breath. "Tell me that, Thor. Tell me if you've ever known the degradation of being treated worse than the lowliest cur, with no hope of ever escaping captivity unless you give in and do the unthinkable—and yet you still refused. Even when you thought insanity loomed on the horizon, even when your nails were torn and bloodied from clawing at the walls for hours in a futile attempt at escape…even when you sought to take your own life in order to escape, only to be thwarted by your torturers...have you ever experienced such, Brother?"

"Mother and Father never put you in such a place," Thor snapped, masking his horror and unease with irritation. It hurt, like a knife through his heart, to think of his little brother in such a place. But Loki had looked fine when Thor had found him on the mortal aircraft. There was no proof of such torments.

In an utterly dead, emotionless voice the other prince replied, "I am not talking about the prison cells of Asgard."

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I am talking about the Chitauri dungeons."

And despite the wall of doubts assailing him, Thor was suddenly reminded of that first visit and reconnaissance mission to Loki's cell on his mother's behalf. Loki had knelt before the fire as one of the infamous and unknown drawings crackled amidst the searing flames. In an almost-tortured rasp, Loki had demanded, "What do they know of darkness? What do they know of the choking blackness of the void? What do they know of isolation? Nothing. Nothing at all." Had this been what he meant?

Bile seared the back of Thor's throat. No. No, he couldn't believe his little brother had been subjected to such tortures after falling from the Bifröst. Thor wouldn't—couldn't—believe it. Loki was lying. That was all there was to it. For if he was telling the truth, how had he become the Chitauri's commander on the invasion field? But of course, if the prince asked the disguised Frost Giant such a question, of course Loki would have an answer ready; a perfectly good answer, which would come tripping sweetly off his forked tongue, the deceitful snake.

In a lifetime of lies, it was nearly impossible to discern the truth. And Loki could never seem to hold onto sincerity for long, even during these conversations. Not without being poisoned by the mad rage or disdain so prevalent in his dealings with Thor.

Loki at last opened his eyes and stared unseeingly into the slowly-dying hearth flames. Shadows cast by the fire flickered in Loki's empty gaze. His elder brother could only stare in baffled silence. Loki's voice rang with sincerity…but then, it had done so the day of Thor's almost-coronation, when he'd professed his fraternal love for his brother.

For a long moment, Thor continued to stare at Loki and try to fathom what his brother was telling him. Which was the truth? Every word vibrated with such rage and desperation when Loki spoke of what the Chitauri had supposedly done to him…but then, there was the question of Thea. Her identity. Whether she had been intended as a tool for the Chitauri's invasion force, or whether she even existed. And the child, Sophie—what if she, too, were a lie? Was Loki simply attempting to manipulate him? The pseudo-Asgardian had done so many times before: before the ill-fated trip to Jötunheim over two years ago, on the Bifröst during their climactic battle that had resulted in the shattering of the rainbow bridge, atop the cliffs above the winter-sere woods outside of Stuttgart on Midgard, on the SHIELD Helicarrier, at the summit of Stark Tower…What if this was just another such attempt?

"I told you that you wouldn't listen," Loki murmured, leaning his forearms atop the table. He stared at the paper filled with his careful but miniscule handwriting as if his gaze could devour the words like a starving man at a banquet. A tired green-gray gaze flicked to Thor's face, then back to the paper. Loki sighed. "You never listen. It seems I'm not the only one who's never sincere."

Wondering vaguely if ruthlessness or true curiosity prompted the question, Thor demanded, "And did she listen? Your precious Thea? Did she drink up all your sweetly poisoned lies?" But Loki said nothing. Merely closed his eyes and laced his fingers together so that he could rest his chin atop his hands. "Answer me!" Thor shouted. The blood pounded hot through his body once more as fresh anger lanced him. Did Loki have to be mysterious about everything?

A swift transformation overtook the green-eyed prince. The smooth white brow furrowed, wrinkles snarling betwixt his thin black eyebrows. Thin lips pulled back slightly as Loki bared his teeth in something to savage to be called a smile but too pained to be snarl. That new and all-too-familiar arctic loathing filled eyes like emerald knives that threatened to cut Thor open to the bone.

"Yes," Loki hissed. "She did. She always listened to me, as I did to her, because she feared the silence, as I did; because she feared to be alone in the darkness with only the harshness of her own breathing and the thunder of her terrified heart; because I knew what it was to fear the dark, the unending blackness of a coffin, of being buried alive in darkness. I knew how it felt to be crushed into insignificance and nothingness in the depths of the void."

Thor wavered then. He couldn't shake the timbre of sincerity in his brother's voice, echoing in his brother's words. Beneath the smoldering embers of hatred waiting for a single breath to fan them to blazing life, there was a shadow of something else. Thor couldn't quite put a name to it. Grief? Remorse? Self-loathing? Agony? Whatever it was, it was enough to catch on the Asgardian warrior's instincts. Enough to coax the crown prince to pull his fist back from the ensorcelled glass; enough to soothe his rage enough that he could take a breath without feeling as if he might choke on it. He drew in one breath, let it out slowly, then drew another. When the blood no longer roared like a waterfall through his skull, he met Loki's eyes dead on.

"What are you writing?" Thor asked softly. "Another letter?" After a long moment, Loki gave him a curt nod. "To Thea?" He couldn't be certain, because what looked like the salutation had begun with the letter A, not T. But Loki nodded again. "What do you say to her?"

"I apologize for failing to fulfill my oath to protect her," the pseudo-Æsir replied coldly. His lip curled. "For failing in my attempt to conquer Midgard." Then he bit his lip and frowned, sighed. An expression that might have been a look of defeat flitted across Loki's pale face. "I apologize for the attempt; it was not what she wanted, but it was necessary for the sake of all involved. She didn't see that. And in every letter I…" He trailed off. His expression twisted, as if the words were far too painful to utter.

Gently, forgetting umbrage and acting on instinct, Thor asked, "You what?"

A sigh shuddered out of his younger brother. "In every letter I beg her forgiveness, though it is a futile thing to wish for. She is…she's dead, and in no position to forgive anyone." A malevolent spark flared to bitter life in the depths of the glacial emerald eyes. "I was told her death was a hard one, that she died cursing my name with her last breath."

"I'm sorry, Loki," Thor murmured. And he was. This one thing, at least, he believed. Loki could not fake such grief. After struggling with the idea that it might not be the best question under the circumstances, Thor finally asked his brother, "Did you love her?"

Loki closed his eyes wearily and scoffed. The sound was heavy with incredulity. Irritation sizzled beneath Thor's skin, pulsed once through his blood before subsiding just enough that the golden-haired Asgardian could ignore it. Loki's lips curled into that mocking smile again and he asked, "I? Love a mortal? A mere child? You really are a blithering idiot, Thor."

And yet…the words didn't quite ring so sincerely this time, which kept them from stinging so acutely. Or was that lack of sincerity just another ploy of Loki's to manipulate his foster brother?

"Tell me what happened," Thor said softly. He didn't know what was truth and what was lies...but he had to know what his brother would say. "What happened when you fell from the Bifröst, Loki?"

Blankness descended over the other man's face, erasing hatred and its underpinnings of grief or loss or regret or manipulation. Thor expected Loki to take his sweet time answering the question—or offering a scathing refusal to answer—so he was taken by surprise when his younger foster brother murmured, "I tumbled through the void of space, through its deathly cold and its star-spangled blackness until at last I plummeted through noxious silver-gray clouds of some poisonous miasma. At last I hit solid earth. The impact jarred my skull, shattered several bones."

Thor's eyes widened, but Loki seemed not to notice.

"For what felt like an eternity I could do nothing but lie there with my body racked by the pain of my injuries," he continued tonelessly. "What your monstrous green friend did to me was nothing compared to that time. My blood soaked the sand and stones beneath my body and the moon burned white against my eyelids until I saw it always, sleeping and waking. I see it still when I close my eyes. And then they found me."

"Thea and Sophie?"

Loki shook his head. "No. I did not meet Thea for sometime after that and as for…as for Sophie…" Though his face remained empty of expression, though his tone was as hollow as that of a dead man speaking in a dream, a terrible agony filled his eyes. For Thor, it was as if looking into his brother's gaze was like being raked with poisoned jade talons that burned like acid. "As for Sophie," Loki somehow managed to continue, though his voice shook and his eyes gleamed as if wet. "I did not…I never…I was never allowed…never truly…"

The pale lips quivered and Loki covered his mouth with one shaking hand, looking away. Thor wondered what could possibly crack Loki's composure so. He recalled Loki's anguish when he'd spoken to the illusion of Sophie. Who was Sophie, that she affected the green-eyed prince so dramatically?

At last, his younger brother spoke again, his voice somewhat steadier. "No, it was not Thea who found me, but the Chitauri. They brought me to their fortress and healed my wounds. Throughout the weeks it took for my bones to knit and my injuries to mend, the second-in-command of the Chitauri armies came to me often with an offer—a command couched in pretty words. I was to join their ranks, for they knew of my powers. They wanted the Nine Realms, and they wanted my help in conquering them. If I agreed, I would become king of my own realm, and win glory for myself and the mighty Chitauri Empire. If I refused…well, one does not refuse Lord Thanos for long."

But Thor knew his younger brother, and knew that receiving an order like that would have been tantamount to a slap in the face to Loki. As proud as Odin had raised his foster son to be and as proud as Asgardians naturally were—as proud as Loki had always been—there was no chance the green-eyed prince had accepted such an offer, threats or no.

"So they imprisoned you."

A regal cant of the head acknowledged Thor's words. "And though I was left to die if I did not give in, though it was as if I'd been sealed away inside a death-casket and left to rot in the wet dark earth like a moldering corpse, I did not give into their demands. I refused to take part in their invasion of Asgard and Midgard."

Thor jolted. "Asgard?" He echoed sharply. "They wanted Asgard?"

Loki smirked. "Thanos, Lord of the Chitauri, fancies himself in love with Death's fairest Avatar, my brother. He slaughters trillions in an attempt to win her favor, in his mad lust to woo her. Of course the Chitauri want Asgard. Don't you understand, Brother? The Chitauri want the universe."

A chill settled in the pit of Thor's stomach. He knew the Chitauri hadn't been killed during their invasion of Midgard, merely thwarted. He knew they could return at any time…or turn their sights somewhere else, like the realm of Asgard. The All-Father would have to be told of this soon, in order to prepare for the potential threat of the Chitauri. Heimdall would have to be enlisted to spy upon the battle-crazed invaders as well, to monitor their movements should they choose to aim for the home of the Æsir. If it came to war, the soldiers of Asgard would—

"They locked me away in the darkness," Loki whispered. Thor's attention snapped back to his brother, who stared unblinking and unseeing into the hearth fire. His throat worked convulsively for a moment. Then he said, almost as if he were speaking to himself, "The darkness has eyes and teeth, claws to rake and fangs to bite. It presses against your eyes until there is only blackness slithering into your skull to devour your mind. Silence deafens, darkness blinds. Hunger gnaws and thirst burns. They gave me just enough to keep me alive, just enough to keep the pain sharp in my throat and in my belly. I thought I would go mad in the dark. I thought I would shatter under the silence. And then…"

Those sightless eyes suddenly focused again, coming to rest on Thor's frozen countenance. Some of the hollow sickness festering in that gaze faded, to be replaced with a dull sort of agony. Somehow Thor knew just what his brother would say next.

"Then I heard music through a crack in the wall of my cell, and knew I must have lost my mind…but I hadn't. I had simply heard a sound at last—her voice."