THORKI Fan Fictions

Title: The Truth

A/N: Based on the 2nd film, this was inspired by Loki's imprisonment scene.

When so much is wrong it is hard to believe there was ever something that was right. It is almost impossible to detect a remnant of such a thing. It was for this reason that Asgard was more unwelcoming than it had ever before been. Even in the solitude of the chambers he’d been banned to, he could not find a moment’s peace. There seemed no such thing as catharsis, neither was that what he lusted after. No, he lusted for freedom that he would never again have if the all-father had a say in the matter, which, unfortunately, he did.

The hallways of his once-home were a tainted reality, haunted by memories that were each as dark as the other. Memories of his childhood, of the many shadows he had lived in, of the loneliness he’d induced upon himself after realizing he did not belong here. He had never belonged here and now it had become his prison.

He was told he should be thankful that his punishment was not more severe, but they did not understand the grandeur of what they had brought upon him. They did not understand that to Loki his entire existence felt like a burden of sorts, a punishment from the very start. He was homeless and now he was purposeless. What did he have to feel thankful for? A ‘brother’ desperate to make amends with a younger sibling that had only ever been a fragment of Thor’s naïve reality?

He was forbidden to go outside. He was forbidden to use magic – not that he had been left with much. He was forbidden to speak ill, or – from time to time – to speak at all.

He was allowed visitors, which he didn’t want. He was allowed the books he’d read a million times, but whenever he inquired for another, his request fell on deaf ears. They enjoyed it too much, to deny him the things he wanted. Everyone, save Thor, seemed to enjoy his imprisonment, but he could not ask for Thor’s help. Obviously asking Thor for a simple book was worse than having to spend every day in dreary boredom, which usually resulted in his mind seeking out the darkest of places. His mind only knew dark places.

Every night Thor would visit. It had become a ritual of sorts. Thor would ask him questions and Loki would ignore every single one of them, until Thor would give up and leave. From time to time Thor would get so annoyed that he would shout and Loki would perhaps stare at him while he did so, before turning his back once more. Every night Loki hoped that Thor would finally give up, but he never did.

It had become a battle of perseverance. Would Loki give up his silence, before Thor would stop his visits or could the Thunderer outdo him once more? Loki was certainly not counting on it. Not this time. He had already lost everything, he could not lose this as well.

Knocks on the door snapped Loki out of his thoughts, but he didn’t turn or answer. He simply counted. Three, two, one… The door opened. It remained silent, apart from the footsteps that slowly came his way, but never too close. Thor had, at least, learned to respect some boundaries. If not his privacy, at least his personal space.

“Perhaps in time father will allow you outside,” Thor began. He had done away with the usual greetings, as they would always be left unanswered and become awkward. “It is a beautiful night out.” Loki did not care for beauty, or so he told himself. The truth was that he longed for some fresh air. For any sort of freedom, even if it was a false one. “It reminds me of – ” But before Thor could finish the sentence Loki had raised his hand, though still hadn’t turned to face his brother. It was a sign of warning for Thor to leave the subject unspoken of. Loki knew which memories he would speak of and did not need to hear them slip from Thor’s lips. They were difficult enough to ignore as it was. All the nightly trips they had made, especially in their early years together, when they had truly felt like brothers. When Loki hadn’t minded whenever Thor would be faster or stronger, because he knew he was smarter. Back in those days Loki hadn’t minded whenever he’d needed Thor’s protection. He had even sought it out at times…

His eyes closed, before he opened them again, determined to ignore the memories.

“Loki,” Thor spoke, desperation in his voice at the lack of communication. Good. “It will not get any easier for you if you do not speak.” Silence. Thor sighed.

All the following nights went quite like this. Sometimes Loki would groan or roll his eyes, but other than that Thor got no response out of the God of Mischief. He would not speak to him and Loki would ignore any help he would offer. It was frustrating for both Gods, but this was left unaddressed.

Then, one night, Loki was waiting for the familiar knocks on the door, but they didn’t come. He thought that perhaps Thor was late, then he thought his brother might not be coming, then eventually Loki fell asleep. Thor had not come to visit him, he realized when he woke the following morning. He was relieved, then sceptical, then – finally – lonely. That night the same ritual was repeated. He waited for Thor’s visit, but he didn’t come. Loki did not sleep that night and stared at the door for the most part of it.

Days became longer and they became sadder, but Loki did not want to see it that way. He knew this was a victory. Thor had given up.

Thor had given up on him.

It didn’t sound like a victory, he realized one night, as he was staring at the door once more. Sometimes he thought he could hear the knocks, but then realized they’d been part of a vivid dream, or a lucid illusion. Thor never came to visit him.

A full week passed, then another… until Loki gave up counting the days.

Loki was fast asleep when the door opened and a figure stepped into the darkened room. Loki got little sleep nowadays, but whenever he did he would sleep for ten hours straight. Nightmares would haunt him, but not even those managed to wake him often. Loki therefore remained unaware of the intruder.

Only when strong hands pushed him onto his back, into the mattress and a weight atop of him prevented his escape did he stir awake. Green eyes snapped open to meet angry blue ones, vivid even in the dim light. Loki’s cold fingers reached for Thor’s chest in a reflex, though a struggle to escape would be futile. They had tested their strength against one another often enough and Loki was unwilling to prove yet again that he could not win. Right now, that was not even what he deemed most important.

“You’re back,” Loki stated, quite unaware of his plight to remain silent. It was only after he’d spoken it even occurred to him that he shouldn’t have. The smile that spread across Thor’s face gave it away.

“Evidently, so are you,” Thor replied after a moment’s silence. He did not move, nor allowed Loki to move away. They were intimately close and their eye contact remained even through Loki’s mistake and the vulnerability he showed next. “Now answer me honestly, Loki,” Thor said, choosing wisely to call him by his name, rather than ‘brother’. He knew the effect it had and it was never good. “Do you want my visits to recur? If you deny now I shall not return. Not even in a thousand years.” Loki was uncertain whether Thor would be able to stay away from him for a thousand years, but was more uncertain whether he’d want to put it to the test. “If you don’t answer me I will take that as a no.” A clear threat now.

Loki opened his mouth, but could not bring himself to answer. His hands were pressing against his brother’s chest, not nearly hard enough to make a point, but certainly hard enough to be very aware of his presence and their closeness.

“Be honest, Loki, for once in your life.”

And he decided to be just that. Just for tonight, because of their ruined childhood, because of all the lies he’d spread and all the dreams Thor had destroyed, because he was imprisoned and wasn’t going to get out any time soon, because Thor was the only one that still looked upon him with kindness and forgiveness and finally, because Loki had missed him. Had missed him so much that he would choose anything over having to go through that again, even the embarrassment of having to utterly surrender.

The words left his lips like a man would admit to a murder, but no less devoted than a lover swearing faithfulness in marriage. “I do.”

End.