Chapter Four - 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 toyou?

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 two mornings later led the prince down corridors of stone that echoed with his footsteps and shaded pathways where early-morning summer 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'd asked the day before, and the day before that, only to be ignored. He resolved to ask his brother again when he arrived at his cell this time. It was Midsummer's Day; he was due for some luck.

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 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 months? It seemed likely that he hadn't. 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 before," 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 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 Loki 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.

He 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 he 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."