Last Resort

A/N

An alternative outcome to Thor movie. I'm leaving from the presumption that Loki has serious self-worth issues, and did most of the things he did in the movie out of desperation, and because he felt he was being pushed into it; the more things started to go wrong, the more mad and ambitious his plans got. This will be a multi-chapter fic.

WARNINGS for self-inflicted injury and angst.

()()()

1. Bad Blood

As Loki stood alone on a balcony, and watched the Bifrost beam his so-called friends to the one destination he had forbidden them to go, the young man was surprised to discover how little anger he felt over the situation. He felt somewhat bitter and betrayed, but even those reactions were muted by the utter lack of surprise that accompanied them. Loki had, after all, never even dreamed the Warriors Three and Lady Sif would side with him over the golden Prince of Asgard. Not under any circumstances. Not even with Loki sitting on the throne, apparently.

Although, considering the abuse Loki's heart had taken over the past few days, he assumed it was also quite possible that those particular emotions were in such overuse as it was that he was, for the time being, incapable of feeling more hurt and betrayed. Either way, instead of blinding anger, Loki felt a strange sort of calmness descend upon him. It was a feeling of certainty he hadn't felt since their ill-fated trip to Jotunheim.

I'm running out of time. Soon it will be over, Loki thought to himself.

The Prince turned around and walked back inside the golden halls of the palace. Everything, all his plans and hopes and expectations, were about to come to an end.

When Thor returns, angry and demanding the throne, he will fight me. I have to make preparations. I have to…

Loki stopped dead in his tracks as the entirety of the situation finally dawned on him.

I have to stop it all but… then what?

If he fought Thor, he would loose. There was, in fact, no scenario left in which Loki would come out on the top, so, to be more accurate, he had lost already.

The calm certainty he'd felt moments earlier wrapped itself around his heart more firmly.

Even if Loki miraculously defeated Thor in battle, he would, in the process, give everyone who already suspected he had orchestrated this whole banishment business in order to usurp the throne (and that really was everyone in Asgard, now that Loki was thinking about it) the proof of his treachery they had sought all along. Not that anyone actually needed proof to act against him: their personal suspicions toward him obviously more than sufficed, as usual.

I had lost this game the moment people around me were convinced I am a traitor, and acted thusly. Whether they could prove it or not, whether it was actually true or not, was hardly relevant. (Failure, always a failure.)

It doesn't matter that I only did what I did to prove my brother wasn't ready to take the throne. Doesn't matter that Thor getting banished and me getting dumped with the throne was never part of the plan.

But why should they listen? Why should anyone believe me if I told them that I never wanted the throne? It's not like anyone has believed a word I've said in years. Not if it isn't something they wanted to hear, or already believed in.

Everyone (yes, everyone), Loki thought, looking at his hands, is convinced I am a monster, and the only way left to prove them wrong is… to fight my brother. My beloved-by-all brother. My brother, who is swiftly forgiven all his slights, whose faults are always overlooked. (And isn't that the very reason we are in this mess in the first place?!)

Loki started walking again, but with less purpose. His mind was still working to reach the logical conclusion of this line of thought. A part of Loki knew he didn't actually want to reach it, but, unfortunately, he had never learned when to stop.

Even if Thor doesn't outright kill me in his anger, when Odin wakes, the king won't forgive me. Nor will Thor. Not once he hears the truth. They will never believe that I didn't mean for things to escalate this way; that I never meant to start a war!

But Odin won't listen (he never does, not to you).

But maybe this time he would listen. Listen and really see me. But only if I first prove myself worthy. Bring down the enemies of Asgard. Become a hero. Be like Thor. (Not like me.)

No. Thor is going to be here any minute now, and my plans to prove myself worthy through courageous actions are still far from complete (never good enough). There isn't enough time to prove myself worth keeping (worthy of love). Everything is falling apart, and the pieces are too small, slipping through my fingers. There is nothing left to do to make everything right again.

I have already lost.

Loki took in a long, ragged breath, as a new sort of single-minded determination took him over.

This is the end, then. It's over.

There was no anger left in him, only acceptance.

A sad smile curled on Loki's lips. He knew what he had to do now. There really was only one decent thing left to do. He may not be able to save himself, but he could still do something.

For Asgard.

At least it'll be over soon.

ooo

Heimdall was not surprised to see Loki approaching him, nor was he surprised to see a casual smile playing on the would-be-king's face. The Prince had always been a master at hiding his true emotions behind a facade, and Heimdall would've expected no less of him during a confrontation such as this.

No doubt Loki had by now noticed Thor's loyal friends were unaccounted for, and had guessed, correctly, who was responsible.

"Tell me Loki, how did you get the Jotun into Asgard?" the Guardian asked before Loki had even halted in his steps.

The young man took a few more paces before stopping in front of Heimdall, still a respectful distance between them. Loki casually leaned on Gungir, and tilted his head a fraction to the side. The absent smile on his lips got a bitter edge to it, but never faltered completely.

"Tell me Heimdall, why did you let the Warriors Three and Lady Sif pass you to go and retrieve the banished Prince Thor, against the expressed orders of the Allfather, your king, and me, your current ruler?"

Heimdall was unfazed by these accusations.

"You may be able to avoid answering my question, but you will not avoid your just punishment", the Gatekeeper stated in an even tone, looking past Loki into the distance. He could see that the Warriors Three and Sif had already reached the Thunder God. Heimdall knew it wouldn't be long now.

Loki's eyebrows tilted up in mock sincerity, but when he spoke, his voice was unusually quiet. "Oh, I know. I know exactly what awaits me at the end of this all."

As Loki spoke, his bitter smirk slowly morphed into an emotionless, unreadable mask. He looked up again, his eyes focused. "Tell me, Mighty Heimdall, have my 'friends' already convinced Thor to come back to kill me, or is my ever quick-witted brother still having trouble grasping the situation?"

"The rightful heir will return", Heimdall remarked, purposefully vague.

The sharp look in Loki's eyes intensified. "You... know. You always knew."

It wasn't a question, but Heimdall answered it anyway. "I knew you would be trouble from the moment I lay my eyes upon the bundle in the Allfather's arms."

Loki pulled himself, if possible, more straight. For a blink of an eye the composed look on his features twisted into something between hate and desperation, but the outburst quickly morphed back into a resemblance of a polite smile. Loki's tone, however, was noticeably tenser, when he spoke.

"Enough with pleasantries. It so happens that I've come to ask a favor of you. Here." Loki held out the staff in his hands. "I was wondering if you would hold onto Gungir for a while. Just until Thor returns to claim what is rightfully his, that is."

Loki took a step forward and handed the staff toward the Guardian with both hands. Heimdall, however, made no attempt to take it from him.

A part of the Guardian wanted nothing more than to strip the traitor Prince of the powerful weapon, but a wiser part of him knew better than to trust the Trickster and his tricks. So, without even glancing at the staff, Heimdall kept both of his hands firmly on the handle of his massive sword; a weapon capable of operating the Bifrost, but no less useful for physically cutting down threats to Asgard.

This show of insolence appeared to be enough to make Loki abandon all pretense of politeness. With a rather crossed-looking, impatient glare, Loki let go of Gungir. It fell with a clank at the Guardian's feet.

"Ah, forgive me for my error", Loki said, a smile playing on his lips, but his tone as sharp as a dagger of ice. "I rather forgot that the great Gatekeeper of Asgard is no longer in the habit of taking orders from kings."

With those parting words, Loki turned around and headed back toward the palace. This finally did surprise the all-seeing watchman. It was a strange thing, indeed, that the cautious mischief-maker would trust him enough to turn his back on him. After a moment's consideration, Heimdall came to the conclusion that it mattered little what tricks the prince was up to this time, for he would soon have played his last one.

ooo

As Loki walked away from the Bifrost, he was grateful that, even now, his silver tongue hadn't failed him. That was just about all he could be grateful for.

He knew.

(Of course he knew.) Answered another, angry voice in Loki's head. (That all-prying, self-righteous, sorry pretense of neutrality. He always did hate your guts.)

Loki hadn't really wanted to see anyone right now (or, preferably, ever again), but it was difficult to completely ignore one's kingly responsibilities while carrying a powerful symbol of power in one's hand, it turned out. Since waiting until Thor arrived would have complicated matters greatly, and leaving Gungir just lying around somewhere in the palace seemed undignified, Loki had settled for a compromise.

Thus, the exchange had been regrettable, but necessary.

(You could leave Asgard. You know ways.) Loki smirked.

Run and hide like a true coward? I think not. Where would I even go? Asgard is not home (never was, you never did belong here) but it is the only place I have ever truly known. There is no place for me to go.

Loki stopped in his tracks as he realized where his legs were taking him: to his rooms. Loki recoiled away from the mere idea of doing what needed to be done there. It was only natural, he presumed, for any being to want to spend his last moments in a safe place, where he must have felt happy, once upon a time. Yet, as far as locations went, his rooms seemed… wrong, somehow.

Quiet people with quiet lives died in their beds.

Loki kept on walking.

ooo

"He is at the palace", Heimdall's deep voice carried easily over the hum of the powering down Bifrost. "He is on the move, but I think I know where he is headed."

ooo

It hurt.

Loki had been injured in battles many a time in the past, sometimes very seriously, even, so he had thought he knew what to expect. Thought he was prepared for it. Now, with his blood flowing freely from several stabbing wounds on his stomach area, the pain was far greater than the prince had anticipated.

Although Loki had many poisons and other cleaner ways of ending one's existence at his disposal, a knife had felt more appropriate for the task. He had enough experience with knives that he knew slitting his throat would've been most effective, but he found himself reluctant to willingly part with his ability to speak. Even now, for just a moment. The fact that Loki had no one to talk to didn't change his feelings on the matter.

Loki comforted himself with the thought that, since he was only ever going to do this once, efficiency was hardly the most important aspect to consider. This was more about symbolism. For once Loki, not his brother, got to save the day. Slay the monster.

Alas, the mess was justified.

And what a terrifying mess it is. I certainly managed to ruin everything in no time at all, Loki thought bitterly. His blood was dripping on the ground and vegetation around him, coloring everything the crimson color of Thor's cape. Or, perhaps, the problem was never so much what I did, but more to do with what I am. Bad blood.

Even leaning heavily on a bench, Loki could no longer stand up. He crumbled to the ground at the root of a large willow tree. The palace gardens had always been one of Loki's favorite places in all of Asgard. Now, as he looked up from the ground, the angle reminded him of what the place had looked like through the eyes of a small child. When they were still young and innocent, before… Before.

The thing Loki found the strangest was that, no matter how much of his life oozed out of him, the pain didn't lessen. On the contrary; it clawed at him more furiously than ever, as every horrible doubt he'd had since childhood was being made real.

He never did love me like he loved Thor, and now I know why. And I can't even blame him for it. ("Another stolen relic… no longer matter.") Who could love a useless monster?

Tears flowed freely down his face now. A side effect of the pain, Loki assured himself.

For a brief moment of weakness, Loki wished his brother was there. Wished that Thor would find him, and tell him it was all just a bad dream. Tell him that it was alright. Tell him he was fine.

Loki closed his eyes and shook his head, disregarding the notion.

Thor doesn't care about you. He only cares about himself. And, even if he did, Thor is incapable of lying.

Loki looked at the stars above him, and wondered if he had made the wrong choice. All beings died in the end, but this seemed like an unusually… mellow way for someone as complicated as him to leave this world. Going down without a fight.

I didn't have a choice. This is my last resort, Loki reminded himself.

(Yes you did. You could have fought. You could have won.) Another voice whispered in his ear.

Loki grimaced. He had always been a good liar, especially when lying to himself, but now, during his last moments, the truth was painfully clear to him. His situation was not unlike all the sagas and other tales of epic heroism he and Thor had grown up hearing, and all the tales ended the same way. A happy ending meant the monster had to die.

Fighting Thor and loosing would be awful, but far from the worst that could happen. What would I do if I fought and won?

Loki shuddered. Whether because of the cold that was starting to settle in like an old companion, or because of his train of thought, he wasn't sure. The dying Prince did know he could barely consider the option of his victory. His reasons for this had little to do with who was Asgard's Golden Prince, and who the deceitful monster.

I hate Thor, but… I only wanted to teach him a lesson. Ruin his big day. Make him see me. Like he used to.

Loki's feelings for his broth… for Thor, were complicated. (Always in his shadow.) Many a time, Loki had wished to see the Thunderer hurt, brought low, vulnerable, (imperfect) but… He had only ever wished to be an equal son, a worthy son; never the only son.

I don't hate Thor, but he will hate me. When he learns the truth. Inevitable. A monster. "I will slay all the Frost Giants!"

This was for the best, surely, because, deep down, Loki always knew this was the only way this story could end.

I never stood a chance of winning. I don't deserve to win. Monsters never do.

Loki was grateful he didn't ever have to see his brother… his not-brother again. This was all enough to deal with without Thor... complicating everything. The way he always did.

Thor is the last person who hasn't turned on me. Hasn't stopped believing there is good in… Doesn't know the truth. I cannot loose him, but I will, and this is the less painful way. I can't loose him, and if I stayed, I'd only end up destroying everything and everyone I care about.

Loki felt empty, which was a rather liberating sensation in comparison to the cacophony of hopes and fears that had invaded his head since the revelation of his true nature. A pained smile flashed across his features, as it occurred to him to wonder if this was what victory tasted like.

My life may have been a lie, but my death will not be for naught.

Loki closed his eyes, hoping never to open them again. Unfortunately, nothing had been going his way of late, and this would be no exception.

ooo

Thor frowned as he looked around himself in the dimly-lit garden, his eyes searching for a familiar flash of green.

"Where is he?" Sif asked, her two-bladed weapon ready in hand. Thor was still uncomfortable with the possibility of having to fight his brother, but if what the Warriors Three and Sif had told him was true, he dared not order his friends to sheath their weapons.

Thor sighed. What mess have you gotten yourself into this time, little brother?

After his friends had told Thor that Odin wasn't dead, and Loki was up to something sinister, the Thunderer had eventually agreed to return from his banishment. Although Thor still hadn't proven himself worthy of his powers and title, he had had no choice but to return to make sure all was well in the Realm Eternal. Thor was also here to make sure these accusations laid against his brother were, at least in part, a misunderstanding. Even Thor didn't think Loki innocent; his brother had always been one for mischief. But treason? Thor found that hard to believe.

After Heimdall had transported them all back to Asgard, and told them where to find Loki, Thor had told the Warriors Four that he would face his brother alone. His friends had quickly disagreed with him on the grounds that, since Thor was currently mortal, he couldn't hope to defend himself against Loki in a fight. Thor still couldn't believe his brother would fight him, but the warriors had been immovable on the topic.

Now they had finally reached the place where Loki was supposedly residing, but there was still no sign of Thor's little brother.

"Perhaps, he has gone somewhere else while we made our way here", Fandral offered.

Sif snorted. "More likely the coward is hiding from us. You heard what Heimdall said; Loki knew we were coming for him."

Thor made once again sure Gungir was safely in his grip. He couldn't actually use the weapon, not as a mortal, but he would hate to misplace his father's staff regardless. He knew his father liked his weapon nearly as much as Thor liked his hammer.

What mystified Thor most about the current situation was, why Loki had abandoned the staff at the observatory. It didn't make any sense, but, then again, nor did Loki lying about their father's death.

Thor raised his eyes from the staff, and said in a firm voice. "We are not leaving the gardens until we've made sure my brother isn't somewhere here."

Thor and the warriors started to fan out in all directions, staying close to one another so as to have each others backs. They did so more out of habit than because they were actually expecting to get ambushed in the palace gardens. It was a search grid they had formed many a time on their adventures together, but, to Thor, it felt incomplete without Loki at his right flank.

Thor had been furious at first, when he had learned of his brother's latest bit of deceit, but now he found himself beginning to calm down. Loki had gone too far this time, and had to face punishment for his deeds, but he was still Thor's little brother.

"There", Hogun spoke up in his usual, grim tone. Thor followed his friend's gaze to a dark heap in the shadow under one of the trees, but it took him a while to recognize what he was looking at.

"Loki? Brother!"

As Thor ran closer, his fears were confirmed. It was, indeed, Loki lying in a heap on the ground. Thor reached down to shake him by the shoulder. "Brother, what's the matt…?" was all he managed to say before he realized, why his hand came back soaked.

Blood.

Only now Thor really saw what was going on around him. Loki's always pale skin was a sickly shade of gray; his face a drained mask. Loki's elaborate tunic was such a dark shade of green that, in the shadow of the big willow tree, one did not first notice how drenched in blood it was. Thor couldn't truly comprehend how this had come to be. His instincts alone guided him to reach to check for his brother's pulse. The only coherent thought echoing in his head: Loki is already dead.

For a length of a heartbeat that seemed to last an eternity, Thor could feel nothing on his brothers neck except how utterly cold the skin felt to his touch. Then, to the demigod's immense relief, he felt the faint, almost imperceptible beat of Loki's heart.

"Oh gods, is he…?" Fandral stammered from Thor's right side, his usual eloquence all gone.

"No, he still lives. But not for long if we don't get him to the healing rooms!" Thor boomed, while his hand quickly searched his brother in order to identify his injuries, and to try to slow down the bleeding. By the look of him, Loki could not afford to loose another drop.

Volstagg materialized into Thor's line of vision. He, too, was quickly scanning Loki, and preparing to hoist him up. Suddenly, a quiet whimper escaped from Loki's lips, causing everyone to momentarily seize moving.

"Brother? Brother, can you hear me?" Thor cradled Loki's head in one hand while, with his other, he wiped stray strands of hair away from Loki's face in order to see it properly. Loki's eyes had opened just a fraction, but his dreamy gaze did not lock on to anything particular.

"I am here, brother. I'm back. No one will hurt you now", Thor assured his brother even though he didn't truly believe Loki could hear him.

"I don't understand", Sif mumbled, her voice uncharacteristically withdrawn. "He wasn't… It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"Four stab wounds to the stomach area", Volstagg murmured, having come to the same total count as Thor moments before him, "We need to…"

"I'll carry him", Thor said, stubborn to be the one despite his weakened, mortal state. How Thor now wished he still had Mjölnir and the ability to fly. Never had he appreciated that talent more than now that it was unavailable to him.

"I'll run ahead and tell the healers to get ready", Fandral promised, and, after getting a nod of approval from Thor, sprinted away.

Thor didn't know what the other warriors were doing, since he couldn't tear his eyes away from Loki's unmoving form long enough to find out. Volstagg had provided a cloth from somewhere to be used as a bandage, but instead of tying it in place, he had simply placed it on the wounds to slow down the bleeding. Even so, Thor was careful not to drop the bandage while he gathered Loki into his arms.

As Thor pulled himself to his full height, Loki dangling in his arms, Sif was suddenly by his side. "Let me help..."

"No!" Thor croaked through his own tears. "I've got him."

Sif was not known for backing down from arguments, but, for once, she didn't press the matter further.

To back up his words, Thor made his way out of the gardens as fast as he could without risking further harm to his brother. Even as a mortal, Thor was, as Darcy had put it, well-built. Also, Loki was nowhere near as heavy as most Aesir, especially when he wasn't wearing his full armor.

Loki was still almost as tall as Thor himself, and his long limbs were now an awkward dead weight in Thor's arms. Even so, Thor did not slow down for a moment, as he rushed into the palace and through the winding corridors. The other warriors followed him close by, in case he needed help after all.

At this late hour, they ran into only a handful of servants on their way from the gardens to the healing rooms. The people they passed by looked surprised and horrified, but Thor paid little mind to them. So long as none of them were foolish enough to try to stop him or slow him down, they might as well have been air to the Thunder God. All that mattered right now was getting his bleeding, unconscious brother to people who could help.

Thor walked straight into the healing rooms without preamble. To his tremendous relief, Fandral had already warned the healers on stand-by of what was coming. Everyone in the room burst into motion, but, somehow, the healers and apprentices managed to move in such a coordinated fashion that the scene looked efficient rather than chaotic.

At the head healer's instruction, Thor placed his brother on one of the beds. After that, he hesitated. He wanted to stay by his brother's side, but he didn't want to get in the healers' way. Before Thor could reach a decision, one was made for him.

"Prince Thor." One of the older healers walked up to him and guided him toward the door. "It would be better if you waited outside."

"But I want to stay with..."

"Prince… King Loki is in capable hands, but you have to give the healers space and time, so that they can focus all their efforts on saving him." The old woman looked at Thor with sympathy, but her tone brooked no argument. "You, all of you, have to wait outside. Someone will come and give you an update on the situation as soon as we know it ourselves."

The old healer damn near physically pushed Thor out of the room, but the blond man was still too shocked to even feel offended by that. Sif placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it firmly, but the grim look on her face told Thor the gesture was more about support than reassurance.

For a long while, the Warriors Three, Sif and Thor stood waiting in a nearby recuperation room. No one said anything.

Finally, Fandral broke the silence. "Okay, what the hel happened?" He looked around the group, searching their faces for confirmation that he wasn't the only one who was completely puzzled by this turn of events.

Volstagg looked at Thor, unsure. "If we had known that something like this was going on, we would not have left…"

But Thor only shook his head. "Fear not, my friends. I know you are not to be blamed for this. But." Thor looked up, and his voice took on a darker edge. "Whoever is responsible for this will pay for that mistake dearly."

As Thor spoke, he automatically reached for his hammer on his belt, only to be reminded that he had left it on Midgard. His lack of hammer and armor reminded him of the reason why they were not with him, but Thor wasn't discouraged by the notion that he was still mortal. Right now, his own banishment was the least of his concerns, and it certainly wouldn't stop him from hunting down whoever was responsible, and making them regret the day they had even thought of crossing a son of Odin.

"Thor." Sif sounded hesitant, and this alone was so out of character that Thor turned to fully look at the warrior woman, his brows creased in surprise and anger. Sif lifted her hand up for everyone to see. In it was a blood-drenched knife. "I found this in the garden near where we found Loki."

Thor's face didn't so much as flinch as he reached for the knife. Sif handed it to him without protest. Thor brought the knife closer to his eyes for inspection, doing so almost involuntarily. He didn't really want to see the weapon that was responsible for his brother's fate, but found himself unable to look away.

"It's one of Loki's throwing knives", Sif explained unnecessarily. Thor had already recognized the weapon as well. Silence fell once again in the room as everyone simply stared at the knife as if it might reveal its secrets if they only looked at it hard enough.

This time, it was Thor who broke the silence. "This tells us that the coward who did this to Loki didn't even use his own weapon."

As no one said anything, Thor raised his gaze from the knife to look at his friends, who were exchanging looks of concern. Finally, Sif turned to face Thor, looking him in the eye.

"Thor", Sif said in a stern voice.

"Yes, Lady Sif. You keep repeating my name, but was there something else you wanted to tell me?" Thor asked, suddenly finding himself very annoyed and defensive. What for, Thor wasn't quite sure, but he had a sudden feeling that everyone else in the room was against him on this.

Sif, unfazed, took a step toward him, her eyes never leaving his. "Thor, have you considered that things may not have gone the way you presume they did?"

Now Thor felt his temper truly rising. "Are you trying to tell me that my brother has not been stabbed several times, and is not fighting for his life as we speak?!"

"Thor, just stop and think about what you are saying. Have any of us ever been able to even sneak up on Loki, let alone steal one of Loki's knives and attack him with it?"

Thor crossed his arms and glared at his friend. "What are you trying to suggest?"

Sif hesitated, but only for a second. "I think Loki did this to himself."

Thor's hands clenched into fists. He took a step toward Sif, who, to her credit, stood her ground. Their faces were only inches apart. "You dare say something like that of my brother to my face", Thor fumed, his mortality completely forgotten.

"None of us can know for sure what exactly happened", Volstagg cut in, trying to break some of the tension. Thor, however, did not lift his gaze from Lady Sif, who matched the glare defiantly.

It was Hogun who finally distracted Thor from his rage by saying: "There is one who knows."

Thor looked up at his solemn friend and backed down a notch. As he thought it through, his anger melted into determination. "Heimdall."

"We should send someone right away to ask if the Guardian saw anything", Fandral offered, but Thor shook his head.

"I'll ask him myself", Thor declared and started to move toward the door way.

Volstagg looked somewhat relieved, but still obviously uncomfortable. He half-stepped in Thor's way, though not completely blocking his route. "But… what about Loki? Are you sure you should go anywhere right now?"

Thor closed his eyes and winced. In his hurry to find someone to blame, he had nearly forgotten what they were doing here in the first place. Thor was still determined to go, though. "There is nothing I can do for my brother here."

Thor took another step, but was this time cut off by Sif. "Whatever answers Heimdall gives you, they will not help save Loki now."

"Then what would you have me do? Stay here and do nothing?!" Thor asked, still angry and sad, but no longer accusing.

Sif sighed, and stepped out of his way. "Then I will come with you."

Thor nodded, and turned to the Warriors Three. "We will be back as soon as we have answers. Stay here and send word to us if you hear from the healers. And send word to my parents of what has transpired."

"Thor", Fandral said, "We can send for Frigga, but the Allfather still sleeps."

Thor frowned. He hadn't forgotten that his father was in the Odinsleep, not really, but Thor had somehow presumed that the King of Asgard would always be available when he was needed the most. Thor felt a new surge of guilt when he realized he was leaving his mother to face this alone.

And still. He needed to know. Thor could not believe his friend's theory, but he couldn't easily think of a better one, either. It just didn't make any sense! What reason in all the Nine Realms could his brother have to do something like this to himself?

Thor had to know the truth.

TBC