Regarding Brothers

Summary: During the movie Thor, Loki discovers his true origins. What would happen if, instead of plotting vengeance, he sought a quiet moment to reflect on the matter?

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or Lord of the Rings.

"Heimdall! Open the Bifrost!"

"To what destination, Prince Loki?"

"Arg! What care I? Oh… Somewhere neither I nor my brother, nor his bone-headed friends have been. Somewhere peaceful, quiet, green, and warm. And most importantly, away from here!"

"Right away, your Highness."

Loki fumed until he was sent to his location of choice. The rolling hills were covered in a carpet of green grass that stretched as far as the eye could see. Closing his eyes and taking a breath, he felt the sun on his face. It calmed him as he tried to determine time and direction. It would take an hour to be certain, but the direction he decided was East was lined by a river, and to the South and West, a mountain range dominated the horizon.

Staff in hand, he paced, with the whisper of the billow of his green cape as the only sound until he broke the relative silence with his voice. "No wonder the All-Father always considered me 'less than.' I'm nothing but a rotten Jötun! All my life, I've been nothing but a distant second to Thor. And now I know why.

"Heimdall called me a prince. And I suppose I am. Not Odinson, but Laufeyson! But why? Why lie to me? I am supposed to be the god of lies. But of course, how could I be anything other than, when my whole life has been a lie?"

He stopped when he heard hoof-beats and narrowed his eyes. Who was coming? At least he had the distant comfort of knowing that whoever it was would not be from Asgard.

It was ten years after the War of the Ring, and Aragorn was concerned with peacetime matters. Minas Tirith was eventually rebuilt and the Peoples of the West recovered and flourished.

Faramir, ever the faithful Steward of the Realm, kept him updated in all things he could not attend to on his own. So when a bright, well-defined rainbow shone in the foothills to the North of Minas Tirith, Aragorn asked Faramir, "What light is that? Gandalf has sailed to the Undying Lands. Saruman is no longer. Though I know that neither Rivendell nor Lothlórien are empty of Elves, most of the Elves have left these shores. Who is left in these lands that could create the magic necessary to produce a rainbow of such magnitude, so far from rainfall or waterfall spray?"

"I know not, your Majesty, although I recall that the Elves under King Thranduil's rule have not left Middle-earth. Also, there remain roving bands of Elves who have not yet left for the Grey Havens. I have not heard of the disposition of the Wizard Radagast. Still, my Lord, I do not know who would be able to produce the lightshow we have just seen."

"Take an armed escort of twenty and investigate. Report back and let me know who or what happened. And, of course, you will notify me if further action is necessary."

"Of course, my Lord. Thy will be done."

When twenty horsemen came over the rise, Loki rolled his eyes. He wore his Asgardian armor without his horned helmet, and he carried no weapon other than the staff he sometimes used to help focus his magic. It was by no means necessary, but it was often helpful.

Loki had not intended to go into battle, but to repose for reflection. He could conjure weapons as needed, but he sincerely hoped he could do without them.

The company halted a few yards from the lone man in the hills. "Who are you? In the name of the King…"

"Of course. In the name of the King. Always, in the name of the King."

Faramir was taken aback by this display of insolence.

Loki sneered. "A host of armor-clad and weapon-laden muscle-bound idiots, I'm sure, is required to discover the identity of one lone individual."

The riders were at a loss for how to begin. Said lone individual was armed with nothing but a staff, a suit of green, gold, and black armor, and a green cloak. But the speech against royalty was unheard of. However, the venom did not seem aimed against Gondor, but at royalty in general.

Faramir descended from his horse. He did not know the source of unrest for this man who seemed harmless, but such bitter words revealed that this man was in pain.

He started, "Good fellow, I know not your source of pain, but we were not sent to torment you, sight unseen. We were sent to investigate a source of light we could not explain."

Loki cocked his head. "Warriors who do not attack at first glance at the unusual? How extraordinary, and outside my general experience."

The Steward countered, "While all of us are warrior-trained, not all of us were bred to be warriors."

Loki blinked. "Oh?"

"Indeed. While my older brother was favored to be Steward of Gondor, he was also initially trained as a soldier. I chose to spend my adolescence and beyond as a scholar. Whether as a scholar, or later as a soldier, my efforts were never good enough for my father."

The Asgardian's dark eyebrows lifted towards his hairline. "Interesting. So far, our stories are similar enough. Why share this now?"

Faramir gave a wry smile. "While I would hesitate to denigrate my brother's intelligence, your bitter words regarding 'muscle-bound idiots' struck a chord. Though we know nothing of your origin, you seem – at least, on one level – a kindred spirit."

Loki laughed. "Perhaps we are, at that."

"Tell me. Are you as fair as you seem?"

Loki stopped to think. He was a trickster, the Lord of Lies, but here, this was not known. He decided to give truth a try, and see if he was believed. "I mean no harm. For now. I know not your disposition nor your intentions for me. But I will treat like unto like. If you remain fair with me, then I will remain fair with you."

Looking at the riders, Faramir said, "It appears that our guest is correct – so many of us are not needed. All but you three, Anborn, Mablung, and Damrod, should return to the city. Ingold, report to King Elessar that no malevolence is intended as a threat to the Realm. More details will follow, eventually."

"Yes, Lord Faramir. We will take our leave." With that, Ingold led the majority of the riders back to Minas Tirith.

The Steward turned back to their guest. "So now you know the names of all of us here, and the name of our king. May we have your name?"

"I am Loki, Prince of Asgard, or so I have been led to believe."

Faramir frowned in thought. "Anborn, please hold my horse. I shall walk a ways with… Loki. I would call you by your title, but you appear to resent it, at present." The rider nodded and took the reins of his leader's horse.

Loki was taken aback by the consideration he was shown. "I thank you."

The two men walked to the bank of the river, where Faramir invited Loki to sit with him on a large rock, looking over the flowing water. Amused and curious, Loki sat with him, laying his staff within easy reach.

Faramir gazed at his guest. "I thank you for your candor. You have been forthcoming when it appears that you would rather not."

"For reasons I have yet to fully understand, your courtesy has disarmed me. I… feel freer to discuss matters… quite relevant to me than I might have, otherwise."

Silence fell between the two companions as they sought to find a balance between curiosity and courtesy. Loki broke the silence first. "You started to tell me your story. Please continue. The men you have brought defer to you and call you 'lord.' You have somehow won a position of authority. How did this come about?"

Faramir laughed quietly. "There is too much to tell. I know not where to begin."

"The position of Steward is not normally one that engenders conflict as compared to an heir to the throne. Why should your father… Obviously, I don't condone the blatant favoritism that scorns the younger while worshiping the elder; what possible motivation could your father have had to denigrate your chosen vocation?"

"The history of Middle-earth is complicated, and Gondor is no exception. Suffice it to say that before our current king, who truly deserves every accolade he has been given, the throne of Gondor was empty for over a thousand years. The Steward ruled in his stead, as we waited for the heir to return."

Loki nodded. "Ah. So the Stewardship was a real position of authority."

"Yes. While the heir to the throne is dynastic, the stewardship has been a hereditary position for as long." Faramir took a breath. "I learned much, as a scholar, including protocols and diplomacy to deal with other Kingdoms of Men, and with Elves, Dwarves, and other races."

He smiled as he remembered the Hobbits.

"So when a matter of worldwide importance came up, and I would have been better suited to the task, my brother put himself forward, as the older and hardier of us. My father, of course, then ignored my achievements, or even my suitability to the task at hand. Instead, my father only saw the leadership opportunity for the son apparently destined for the Stewardship."

"Apparently destined. But it was not to be, was it?"

Faramir closed his eyes. "No. My brother… was killed."

Loki saw the pain in his companion's eyes. "I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. But even then, my father rejected me."

"In the name of all that is good and righteous, I cannot believe the similarity of our stories thus far."

Faramir raised his eyebrows. "I hope you will have a happier tale than I had. While I would have done almost anything to achieve my father's favor, in his final hours, my father was taken with madness. He… died by his own command. He would have had me killed along with him, but cooler heads prevailed, and my life was spared."

Loki shook his head.

Faramir continued. "Though my father and brother have joined our ancestors, my own story, personally, has a happier ending. I found the love of my life, my beautiful wife, while we both were 'captive' in the halls of healing, as it were. And King Elessar decided to keep me on, me and my sons and heirs, to be the Stewards of the Realm in perpetuity."

"There is that."

Faramir looked at Loki. "You have said that our stories are similar. From your comments and reactions, I have deduced that you are also a scholar, regardless of your ability to suit as a warrior. You were not appreciated for your achievements, in favor of your older brother who is, in fact, heir to the throne of your realm. Something happened to make your brother unsuitable to fill his role, and you have been rejected from taking the reins."

"Exactly, Lord Faramir. That is it precisely."

"However, there is a source of bitterness that picks at you, even beyond this."

Loki closed his eyes. "For my entire life, I have – as has every Asgardian – been told that one of the races of the neighboring realms are naught but bloodthirsty monsters with no social redeeming value. 'The only good Jötun is a dead Jötun.' And the like."

"Yes."

"As you have indeed guessed, my brother has committed an atrocity such that my father saw fit to punish him in a temporary exile, until he learned his lesson."

Loki sighed. "Like you, I have always been a scholar. Perhaps unlike you, my scholarship was not just ridiculed by my… father, but by all Asgardians, with the exception of my mother. As a diplomat, as a statesman, as someone who thinks with my head rather than with my muscles, I would be a more fitting candidate for the throne than my… brother ever would.

"Just when I thought my opportunity had come to fill the role I was practically made for, I was rejected out of hand. And then I found out why.

"I was adopted. I was not born of Asgard, son of Odin and Frigga, as was my brother Thor. No – I was born a Jötun, from that dastardly race that we scare our children with. I am… a monster, born from the King of the Jötuns. I suppose I was born a prince, just… not to the throne of Asgard, but of Jötunheim."

Faramir sat in silence as he absorbed his companion's story. When Loki mentioned the most evil, bloodthirsty race, the Steward envisioned an Orc. And then Loki said that, in his realm, he was – effectively – born an Orc.

Be that as it may, should a man be judged because of his supposed potential or because of his actual accomplishments?

Faramir made his decision. "Tell me, Loki: have you ever acted in an evil, bloodthirsty manner?"

Loki blinked, startled. "No, but I…"

"Then it does not truly matter what you were born. What matters is what you have become. You are a scholar, underappreciated though you are. And though you may not be born to be king of Asgard, you are in the perfect place to be the… head behind the crown, if not under it."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "Go on."

"If you have the measure of your brother, he will one day rule your realm. However, you are the better statesman, so you have said. Do you not think the realm you have been adopted into would benefit from your greatness by you advising your brother?

"A ruler must be just, and must take as many perspectives as possible to ensure he has made the right decision. While your brother is undergoing his punishment, he is presumably learning the lesson he needs. Perhaps, when he returns, he will be more willing to listen to reason. Perhaps he will be able to see you for your worth, and will listen to your advice."

Loki said in a small voice, "He rarely has before."

"I can understand that. Is your brother drunk with the power he will have as king of your realm?"

Loki stopped to consider. "No, not as such. Rather, he is an unthinking clod…"

"So you have said. But is the unthinking action born from cruelty and greed? Or is it born from enthusiasm, inspired to do right, even if it is somewhat misdirected?"

The idea of analyzing Thor's idiotic actions through this lens was a novel one.

"If I'm completely honest with myself, I would say that Thor usually means well. He is generally crass and crude, but… his intentions are usually honorable."

Faramir nodded. "Then, aside from the crudity, it sounds like your brother Thor is not unlike my brother Boromir."

Loki pursed his lips. "Let us say, for a moment, that Boromir lived and that he was made Steward. Would you allow yourself to be his second in command?"

"Before the war, I did act as his second, even though my father often thought I was undeserving," Faramir said quietly.

"Why? Why did you do so, even though you were used so ill, especially by your father?"

"My reason is two-fold. One – it was my duty to my realm to make my brother as effective as I could. And two – I did, and still do, love my brother and father. My brother was far more understanding, and if he would have lived, I would have served under him. Though I am sure we would frustrate each other for lack of shared perspectives, I do believe he would have taken my advice. Eventually."

Faramir cocked his head. "Though you are angry for having been deceived, do you not feel any love for your adopted family?"

Loki considered. "I feel nothing but anger for Odin, my… father. But… Thor has always embraced me and called me brother. And Frigga… She knew the truth, but she has always treated me as a son equal to Thor. It was she who encouraged my studies. It was she who taught me magic." Faramir blinked. "I suppose… I could endure as the smarter younger brother who is the true power behind the throne."

Faramir smiled. "And your brother would thank you for it."

"Perhaps you are right."

"Loki, your Highness." The address made the god jerk his head. "Perhaps we can introduce you at court. We have been here awhile, and I am sure your royal Cousin would appreciate meeting with you and dining with you, until you are ready to return to your realm."

"I would appreciate that."

"Then come. You will ride with me to Minas Tirith. And perhaps while you are there, you will tell us: what caused that truly impressive rainbow in our very clear sky?"