marty-mc;s artwork is really inspiring, I can't stay away from it. Someone remind me to post links to the pics on my profile when I'm not about to pass out.

/

He wasn't scared. Tonight was the first night Thor was spending within his own rooms, which meant he was no longer a child that was forced to stay within the nursery. And Thor, because he was no longer a child, was absolutely not scared. The thunder storm that raged outside was simply a coincidence.

Thor very nearly had himself truly convinced of this when the blankets of his bed were suddenly dragged to the side. "Ahh!" Thor cried out, tumbling over himself as he tried to grab the blankets and drag them back. With one particularly strong pull the blankets came flying back, but the loud 'thump' followed by a whimper clued him into who was responsible for the disturbance.

Thor rolled to the side of the bed to peer over, and sure enough, there was Loki, staring back up at Thor with tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Loki, what are you doing here?"

"Thor!" Loki cried out, his young voice giving the't' of Thor's name a short, clipped sound. He reached up with cubby arms, demanding that Thor pick him up.

With a loud sigh, which was all completely for show (Thor loved it when his little brother needed him), Thor slid off the bed and helped Loki stand up. "What's wrong, Loki?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around Loki's waist to help him up.

Loki's little fists gripped the sheets as he pulled himself the rest of the way onto the bed. Another crack of thunder boomed overheard, causing Loki to cry out again. Thor quickly reached up to steady his little brother before Loki could tip back and fall off the bed.

"Loki, it's just a thunderstorm," Thor said as he climbed back onto the bed. It concerned Thor that Loki was having this reaction. Every other time Loki had seen a thunderstorm, he'd been enchanted by the way the lightning cut the sky and how the thunder shook the earth. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

Loki shook his head so hard Thor feared he would hurt himself, and his small hands reached out for Thor again. "You were gone, Thor!" Loki accused, followed by a sniffle.

"Loki," Thor said softly, pulling Loki into a hug, and letting his little brother cling to him. "You knew I was leaving the nursery tonight. I'm not gone, I just have my own room now."

Loki shook his head again. "No, you were gone gone. I looked for you, but couldn't find you. And then I woke up, and and-" Loki grew more hysterical as he talked until he cut himself off with another sniffle, his chin trembling as he tried not to cry.

"Oh," was the only response Thor had. He wrapped his arms tighter around Loki, but Loki still shook in his arms.

Thor slowly maneuvered Loki so that he could tuck his brother in under the red blanket Frigga herself had made for him. Loki's hands transferred from Thor's nightshirt to the blanket, pulling it up to his nose. "Here, Loki," Thor said softly. "Don't cry, it was just a bad dream. You can take my blanket, it will protect you when you're afraid and I can't be here with you. Nothing will hurt you, little brother."

"Promise?" Loki's tiny voice piped up.

"I promise," Thor assured him, smiling at his brother. "Now, let's get some sleep, otherwise Mother will not be pleased if we're falling asleep during lessons."

Loki nodded, his black curls bouncing, and pulled the red blanket close as he closed his eyes.

/

Thor knew grief, and over a thousand years he had learnt how to deal with it. He had seen friends cut down in battle before, but never had he thought he would have to endure losing his baby brother twice. Nothing he had experienced before could have prepared him for a situation where he'd be holding Loki close as his brother's life slipped away.

"No, no, Loki, please, do not do this to me again," Thor begged, holding Loki's still body close. He couldn't stop himself from crying. This was his baby brother, the person Thor had promised that he'd allow nothing to hurt. He'd failed, and his failure had cost Loki his life. How was he supposed to let Loki go a second time? When Loki fell, it had hurt, it had hurt more than anything Thor had had to endure before. But here, with Loki's body heavy in his arms, it was different. It was somehow more real, and that only made it hurt more. His little brother couldn't be gone, not for a second time. Loki, clever Loki, could trick his way out of any situation. Thor wanted to deny what was right in front of him, to call it another of Loki's tricks, but Loki's still body made it impossible for Thor to escape the harshness of reality.

"Thor," he heard Jane's soft voice call before she dropped down next to him, holding onto his shoulder. "Thor…I'm so sorry," she whispered. Thor knew what she was going to say, but shook his head, Loki's soft hair tickling his nose. "Thor, I'm sorry, but we need to go," Jane urged.

She was right; Thor knew she was right, but… "I can't leave him here," Thor answered, trying to keep his voice from breaking. But they couldn't take him. Time was short, and Loki's body would slow them down. There was no choice but to leave Loki upon the cursed black sands of Svartalfheim. But the rational part of Thor's mind was at war with the emotional devastation currently in control. Knowing that they had to leave Loki did not mean he could accept it. "My little brother," he whispered, tears falling onto Loki's pale cheek. "I can't leave him alone. He will be afraid."

"Oh, Thor." Jane's voice cracked and her fingers tightened on his shoulder. "Thor, I'm sorry, but…I'm so sorry."

Thor took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he now needed to do. "Excuse me, Jane," he said, his voice tellingly emotionless. When Jane pulled back, Thor slipped off his cloak, so reminiscent of the red blanket Frigga had made for him so many years before, and tucked it around Loki as if they were both children going to sleep. "I promised nothing would hurt you, Loki. I promised. I…I can only hope you can forgive me. Good night, little brother."

/

Loki lay still long after Thor and Jane left. The wind had picked up, heralding the start of a storm, but not one caused by Thor. Those felt different, exciting and challenging, a phenomenon that never failed to take Loki's breath away. This storm, this one was nothing more than natural weather, a sign that Loki needed to move.

Very slowly, Loki sits up, one hand twisted in the red fabric of Thor's cloak. He had not planned on faking his death when they entered Svartalfheim, he had merely seen the opportunity and taken it. He didn't regret it, Thor would have put him back in the cage, would have robbed Loki of his freedom. Thor was not his brother. Thor was more a liar than Loki ever was. Thor was nothing more than a boneheaded idiot; so why,why, did he feel such sentiment at the sight of that red fabric?

You're a fool.