A/N: This chapter is just as insane as the last one. It's longer, too. But I hope you guys like it, even with what poor Loki has to go through. Tyr is really not a nice guy in this.

Again, a warning, this is very violent and not for the faint of heart. Please don't complain about what I put here, just don't read it.

Chapter 2 of 2

To Kill A Hope - Chapter 2

Loki spent the next three weeks chained to the bed by his right ankle, unable to move from its immediate vicinity, the only thing reachable being the small chamber pot near the wall. He remained perpetually naked, not even allowed a small piece of cloth to cover himself.

At night - almost every night - he was brutally raped anew by his master, Tyr, god of war. He felt as though he bled constantly, although his body healed itself for the most part, but rarely enough before the next assault. The servants were constantly changing the bed's sheets - the floor, too, had to be scrubbed frequently as Tyr sometimes found the bed not to his liking.

Another few weeks passed, the assaults were no less frequent but were becoming less violent and messy.

For his part, Loki kept his head down. Although it grated roughly on every sensibility he had ever held dear, the trickster did as he was told, because whenever he disobeyed, the bed awaited him, a terrible devouring beast, slavering with bloodied jaws for him to attempt asserting his will around the war god. He knew he was yielding to his training, for that's what it was; he was rewarded with not being harmed when he did as he was told - rewarded with a 'gentler' raping - and he was punished severely when he did not. He hated it. Hated the feeling, of knowing that he was listening to his instincts, the intense desire to avoid injury if he knew how- It sickened him. He sickened himself.

But even so, on certain occasions, he also couldn't help the other instinct, such a powerful drive, to cause chaos...

Tyr walked into a room in a terrible disarray. Loki hadn't been able to control himself. For the last hour, he had been brewing in his misery, his self-pity, his rising thoughts of taking his own life instead of enduring this eternal torture, but he couldn't take it anymore and he snapped. Somehow, during his fit of anger, he had snapped the wooden leg of the bed he had been attached to and proceeded to completely demolish the room around him. His hands bled and splinters filled his skin, but he hadn't cared. In a fitful rage, he broke the desk in the corner, then the chair next to it, then smashed the armoire with both legs, then the armor stands and now-empty weapon racks. With wide eyes and a madness that he almost feared the moment it was set loose, he had set his eyes upon the bed...

The thrice-cursed thing that made his blood boil to even look at much less be in the same space as its towering wooden form. The broken leg that had once held him filled him with a thrill at its splintered spire. Rushing over, Loki had snapped each post in turn with a wicked glee he had never felt before. He then used the jagged edges of one to shred the pristine sheets- they were mocking him, laughing at him with their perfection, as if nothing at all had ever happened there, as if Loki, once son of Odin but now son of no-one, hadn't been broken on its deceptively soft smooth surface, as if every horrible torture had been but a terrible memory conjured up in a fevered mind. But it wasn't. It had happened and Loki couldn't stand the sight of it.

He had broken and smashed and pulled and ripped and it felt good. Oh it had felt good, so good...

But now... Now master was here and Loki could do nothing but grin at him, maniacally and widely, as if his lips no longer covered his teeth, no longer existed.

His eyes showed only madness.

What's wrong, master? Don't like what I've done with the place?

Loki lay against the wall, arms so tired and limp by his sides as his legs remained splayed out in front of him without a care to how he looked. His own blood seeped onto the floor and had smeared everywhere; somehow, even the high walls hadn't been spared.

Tyr walked in, slowly, taking it all in. Until, when he reached the center of the terrible mess, he bellowed, "What in the Nine Realms happened here?!" He continued looking around until his eyes fell on the supine form of the god of trickery and lies. "You!" he screamed, accusing finger pointed as he walked toward Loki. "How dare you-"

"How dare I what?" the trickster asked casually, still smiling with too-white teeth. "Don't you like my work? I must say it's some of my best-"

He was suddenly being held aloft by his throat, the angry stare of the war god baring down on him with a fury he had never seen. His smile faded but he held the other's gaze adamantly.

"Don't you like the broken thing you've created, master?" Loki said as if in pleasant conversation. "Or would you like me to grovel at your feet some more- that does get boring after a while, don't you agree?"

Take me take me take me don't you want to hurt me? Loki didn't know what he was saying, thinking. He vaguely realized this is what madness felt like. How he had felt on Midgard, but first... there had been the darkness. The abyss, everywhere, all around, inside-

In a seething rage, Tyr flipped Loki straight over his head, then allowed the trickster to fall and crack his head and back on the hard marble floor. The pain knocked the wind out of Loki, keeping him from screaming at the impact. His mind swam and he couldn't focus his vision, which had gone dark for a moment before returning, although not well. He coughed, but had no time to do anything else except scream and scream because he both heard and felt the sharp crack! of his left leg breaking. His mind was reeling, he couldn't do anything except scream at the top of his lungs. Then, without warning, he felt a sharp snap! and, looking down, realized his right arm had been broken at the elbow. He screamed some more, then again and again and again because there was nothing more to do than scream.

His eyes were darkening and filling with tears, he choked on the vomit that attempted escape, then spewed it to the side - as best he could - a moment later.

"And," said the sudden voice of Tyr, breaking through the absolute pain surrounding the trickster, "since you can't keep your hands off what is mine..." Loki felt the wrist of his right arm break next, then, the left, as well.

He wailed and sobbed and gagged and choked on everything, the vomit still trying to come out, his spit, his breath.

Why, why, why am I such a fool? His mind somehow still worked, despite the unfathomable pain searing his entire body. Such a fool, such a fool... He had been doing so well; yes, he had to endure being violated basically every night, but other than that, nothing. Well, aside from being debased at every turn, but he could take that. I could take it.

Loki lay on his back, limp, broken - again - but in body as well as in mind, this time. He could do nothing but sob and wail and whimper and lay pathetically, when will this ever end? It would never end...never end...

There was something shiny near his eyes, hovering above. He blinked fiercely at it, trying to focus his vision. It was... pointy...

"Your lesson isn't over, prince..." The object neared, and, all at once, Loki realized what Tyr meant to do to him.

"NO!" Loki screamed. "No! No, please! No no no no no-!" He tried to move, tried to get away, do something, but his body was too broken to do anything but tremble.

"We'll see how rebellious you are after this!" screamed Tyr in a rage.

Loki felt the stabbing pain in his head, behind his eye, gouging, tearing at the soft bulb there.

He wailed as he felt the long metal enter his skull and dig out... Dig out- Loki didn't dare look with his remaining eye at anything that was happening. But it didn't matter. Tyr lifted the lid of his remaining eye and forced him to look.

"Should I take the other, too?" sang the war god.

"No, please," Loki sobbed. "Please don't, please I didn't mean it-"

Tyr stared at him a moment, a look of bored contempt on his face. An excruciating moment passed, then, "Hm. I don't believe you."

His sight in his other eye was blotted out a moment later, nothing but darkness and the sounds of his own desperate and high-pitched screaming surrounding him.

Loki didn't know what happened next because he passed out, lost in the nothingness and pure horror of his pain and anguish, crying - at least in his mind - for someone to end it, to end it all. Please... please end me...

X - X

There was a sound of movement, of something heavy being dropped on cloth - of soft... Loki tried to open his eyes, but... but... No... No no no no no no! He remembered. Remembered so suddenly and he gasped for air and tried to reach for his face, to check, to truly know that he was blinded. But it didn't matter what he wanted because most of his limbs were broken and he couldn't move anyway, too much pain rippling through his entire being.

For a moment he lay quietly, small whimpers escaping every few seconds. He wished he could cry, oh how he wished he could cry. In the moments that followed, he realized the sound from earlier was his own body, he had been deposited on this... whatever this was. A bed?

His breath stopped. A bed... A bed! Loki now attempted to struggle, a renewed desire to get away rising within. No, please, have to get away- get away! But he couldn't move, his body refusing his commands.

No! Somebody help me! But there wasn't anyone, was there?

The bed dipped and Loki knew immediately who it was.

"No, please..." he whispered feebly, his voice shredded from too much screaming. "Please don't... please don't..." He tried to shake his head, but even that was too difficult.

"Didn't I tell you?" came his master's voice. "Did I not say that you were mine? Have I not shown you mercy when you deserved it? Behaved?"

Loki tried to nod, but, realizing he couldn't, said, "Yes, yes. Just...p-please don't- don't, I- I won't fight you again. It hurts so much already..." He sobbed, then wondered how he could without eyes and tears. "Please...master..."

Master... He had never called him that before. In that moment, Loki knew. He hadn't known it before, not truly, but now he did. He was broken. Completely. He would do anything Tyr said in order to avoid harm and after knowing what the war god would do if he misbehaved... Well, what could he do but listen?

The sound around Loki felt dead. It was far too quiet and he hated it, wanted to fill it with something, even if it was his tormentor's voice. But nothing came. And the bed shifted again when his master left.

Loki didn't sigh in relief, there was too much desolation filling him for it. This, too, was the abyss, and he could do nothing but mourn that he didn't have eyes to cry.

X - X

It took a week for Loki's wrists to heal, and another two - or so he guessed, perhaps longer - for his other broken bones. His eyes had yet to heal. He had realized in the dungeons that he didn't heal as the Aesir did; that he had, all these centuries, relied on his magic to heal him, even if it was subconscious.

He stumbled around all the while, once again chained to the bed, although his chain was longer. The servants cared for him before his bones mended, and when his leg healed, they let him be, only returning to clean the room and empty his pot. Once again, when he was able, Loki was allowed to eat his master's scraps, thrown on the floor as if he were a dog. Well, what was the difference to a dog, anyway?

Tyr hadn't waited for Loki's bones to heal before taking him to bed. He was oddly gentle at first - which caused Loki to further his desire to obey lest he invoke his master's ire again - but the more severe assaults continued whenever Tyr was in a sour mood, or if he simply felt the need to. Loki just took it and attempted to stay quiet, even if he didn't always succeed. It disconcerted him extremely to be without sight, although he realized his eyes were slowly healing when he felt the soft shapes of his eyeballs forming in his skull.

Almost two months after his eyes had been removed, Loki began to see again, although his vision was quite blurry.

"Come here," Tyr commanded lightly as he sat at his table eating dinner.

Loki obeyed as the chain of his shackle skittered across the floor as he moved. He kept his head bowed and eyes downcast, stepping up to the war god. "Yes, master?" he asked timidly.

"Sit," he said, then pulled Loki into his lap as he took a chunk out of a leg of lamb. Loki did nothing to resist as he sat quietly on the man's legs. "Are you content?" asked Tyr.

An odd question, Loki thought. But of course, he would never answer honestly. "Yes, master," he said, staring at the floor.

"And... are you happy?"

"Yes, master," he said dutifully while nodding.

"And..." Tyr pulled him close, his face so close Loki wanted to vomit at the smell of mead and meat on his breath. "Are you mine?"

The trickster god hesitated, but only for a moment; he nodded a second time. "Y-yes...master." He lowered his head further and slumped, the weight on his body suddenly too heavy to bear.

Tyr pulled him into a rough kiss with a hand at the back of his head, then pulled back and took another bite of his meat. After a moment of staring at Loki, the war god growled and threw the half-eaten leg at the table, then stood up, causing Loki to stumble onto his feet. He didn't know what was happening so Loki remained still, as Tyr, strangely, cleared half the table with his arms, the numerous plates of food and goblets of wine falling with a crash to the floor.

Then, without warning, the elder god pushed Loki onto the table on his stomach, bending him over it. He growled into Loki's right ear, nibbling at the soft lobe as his hands moved over the trickster's body.

"You are...so beautiful," whispered the war god. Loki didn't move, used to his moods by now. "So beautiful..." he said again as his obvious erection rubbed against Loki's backside.

Tyr put a hand on the back of Loki's neck and pushed him down until his stomach and chest lay flat against the half-cleared table.

It wasn't long before Loki felt the tip of Tyr's manhood, ready to push in at any moment. He hated these spontaneous lust-filled outbursts; the elder god rarely, if ever, prepared Loki first and the pain was immense.

Loki cringed and whimpered quietly when Tyr pushed in roughly, but did nothing to protest.

Tyr made a sound like a grunt. "So tight... how is that... even possible?" He began slowly pushing in and out and Loki stifled a sob. How was it possible? Loki's body refused to stop healing itself, that was how it was possible. It was painful each and every time if he wasn't prepared first because his body returned to its natural state after every time, as if Loki were again a virgin and hadn't just been violently rutted into by a god of war.

Apparently, Tyr hadn't considered this - or perhaps it was merely a tease? Loki wasn't sure and he didn't really care. He gasped with small breaths at each hard thrust, the table and its contents loudly clanging against each other and the floor.

Loki wanted to tell him to stop, to get away from him - as he still wished each time - but, again, after so many times, he simply couldn't. Norns have mercy, let it be quick...

Fortunately, for the most part, it was. Tyr's seed filled Loki quickly and he pulled out a moment later.

But... a loud shaky gasp reached Loki's ears from somewhere behind him - too far to be his master's breath. His eyes darted behind him, passed Tyr, and-

He froze. He couldn't move. Because there, standing with eyes so wide and mouth agape, was Thor, god of thunder, son of Odin, former brother of Loki, god of mischief, son of no-one.

X - X

How had they missed the thunder god's entrance? It didn't matter, because the door was slowly shutting and Thor and his hammer stood stock still, eyes taking in the scene before him with utter confusion.

"Thor?" Tyr asked as he covered himself and stepped back. "When did you return?" At the sight of the prince of Asgard staring widely at his brother's still bent-over form, Tyr snorted. "Ah. My apologies. If I had known you would be coming I would have at least dressed him," he finished, almost awkwardly but still with a small chuckle.

Loki still couldn't move. He felt so exposed, so vulnerable, so... wrong with Thor standing there, seeing him bent over a table with a man's release seeping down his legs. Since he couldn't move, Loki trembled, causing the table to shake slightly.

"Thor?" the god of war asked again, confused. "I could ask him to clean himself up if-"

"What-" began Thor, teeth clenched, "are you doing to my brother?" His voice was quiet, almost too low for the thunder god, but there was such a clear rage behind it that Loki couldn't help but flinch.

Tyr, apparently, was less aware of Thor's personality to know when the thunder god was about to make a raging cyclone show up in the palace. "What? Oh..." he looked to Loki. "Did you not..." he trailed off, eyes darting between the prince and the former prince. Well now. Perhaps he was catching on.

Thor was shaking from head to toe, but in absolute fury, unlike Loki. The sight of Thor so angry made Loki curl into himself, his arms hiding beneath his body. He desperately wanted to hide his shame, to stand up and do something, but it was impossible; his body refused to heed him. But... why was Thor so angry? He couldn't care about-

"My prince," said Tyr, much more respectfully now, "surely the king informed you of-"

But he didn't get to finish his sentence as Mjolnir flew at his head and a crack of thunder shook the entire palace. "What," Thor screamed, "are you doing to my brother?!" The sky outside darkened as a bolt of lightning split the air as another boom of thunder resonated through the walls and floor.

Tyr immediately tried to straighten himself as he stood up and stumbled slightly. "Thor- This is unnecessary, your father surely explained to you-"

"He explained," Thor seethed through his teeth, eyes alight with unbridled fire, "that my brother had been given over to you as punishment. He did not explain that you would be violating him-"

"He is mine!" screamed the god of war suddenly, defensively. "Your father," he stood up straight, "gave the trickster to me. He is mine. My slave. If you have an issue with it go ask-"

Mjolnir swung at him again as he jumped to the side. "Do not," Thor screamed, "speak of Loki that way! He does not belong to you! He belongs to no one!"

Loki whimpered and tried to move again, but could do nothing but watch the scene before him unfold, like something out of a dream.

"Odin gave him to me! You cannot-"

"He is my brother." Another flash of lightning and crack of thunder. His voice went low again, dangerous, eyes dark behind shadowed tresses. A terrible thing waiting to demolish you where you stand- if you dared. "He is not yours."

Then the Hammer of Thor was flying again, then again, and again. Tyr had somehow grabbed a weapon of his own before Thor managed to strike him, the weapons clashing loudly against each other with the backdrop of a heavy torrent of rain and thunder in the sky.

The bed broke first, to Loki's utter glee, then the door to the washroom. The two great gods fought with everything they had.

Loki watched with wide eyes, uncertain what to do except watch. He didn't know what to do with his mind, either, with this new knowledge. Had Thor not known, then? Loki had thought Thor simply didn't care for him, that he had left to Midgard to avoid him, but now... That was clearly untrue.

A curtain ripped as Tyr's sword shredded it from top to bottom, Thor dodging out of the way. Next, the thunder god's hammer flew toward the war god, but Tyr, too, leapt out of its way before it could find its target. Mjolnir did shatter a window, though, and the rain began to pour through as the sounds of thunder rumbled through the room.

With the way clear to the sky, Thor held his hammer aloft, calling to his elemental power, lightning filling the room in a blinding light.

Loki hid his face behind his arms and looked away, and didn't look back until-

All was quiet. Thunder quietly rumbled in the distance as the rain continued to fall. Tyr was on the floor, bleeding and burned, but still breathing.

The trickster god gasped and, suddenly, fell off the table. At his brother's cry, Thor's head snapped up.

"Loki!" he bellowed worriedly, then rushed over and crouched down to Loki's prone form, setting down Mjolnir upon the floor.

Loki felt a warm cloth covering him, then next realized, at its crimson color, that it was Thor's cape. It was soft, and comforting, and it smelled of Brother. He curled into himself, hugging his chest tightly, but it was a useless gesture as he was quickly lifted up and embraced so tightly in the thunderer's grip that he could scarcely breathe.

"Brother..." Thor sobbed. Was Thor crying? Loki didn't know what to do for a moment. He remained stiff, not returning nor rejecting the embrace. What was he to do? Would any of this matter? Tyr was still alive, and even were he dead, Loki would simply be given over to someone else as a slave. Still... he needed this small moment of comfort. He had been so long without anything soft, or warm, or protective as this and he suddenly couldn't resist leaning into Thor, nuzzling his face in the crook of his neck.

As if he could no longer stand it, Thor gathered Loki into his arms and hugged him more fully, wrapping him in the cape is if he were but a babe in swaddling cloths. Loki didn't mind it, though, drinking in the affection and softness of his brother- But was he? Was he Brother? Loki was still no Odinson, as Thor, very much so, was.

Had he truly saved him, or was this merely a short respite from the horrors of his never-ending nightmare. Would he not be given to someone else? Or, if Tyr still lived, would he not remain his slave?

But Thor... What would Thor do? Would he capitulate, as he always did, and heed Odin's commands? Or would he... would he-

He couldn't even think it, this small impossible hope. To kill a hope was so much worse than letting it die before it was ever born; but its birth was so glorious, wasn't it? How could he deny such a beauty before it came into the world?

Loki sobbed and clutched at the front of Thor's armor. He jumped fiercely when the chain of the shackle around his ankle was suddenly struck by Mjolnir, the hammer splitting the linked metal into pieces. The metal cuff itself was untouched, but Thor couldn't touch it without injuring Loki as well, he knew.

"Thor wait-" Loki said quickly when Thor picked him up and carried him as he would a child.

"What is it, brother?" asked the thunderer, concern in his eyes still mingled with anger - although clearly not directed at Loki.

"W-what are you doing?" Loki dared ask, fearful, so very fearful of the answer. Now it came to it, would all of this have been for nothing? Loki couldn't bring himself to even smile when the threat of a nightmare's continuation lingered so near.

But Thor frowned. "I am taking you from here; I care not for what-"

A growling voice from behind Thor interrupted him. "How dare you defy your father!"

The thunderer whipped around, Loki still in his arms, as he regarded the now awake war god. Tyr was bloody and his skin burned, his posture slumped as he attempted to stand - mostly unsuccessfully as he continually fell with each try. "You have no say in the matter, Tyr," said Thor as he moved to walk toward the door.

"It won't matter!" yelled the god of war over the rain. "He'll be back here- it won't matter. Odin has given him to me; the trickster is-"

"What did I say to you about claiming him as yours?" growled Thor as he turned around to once again regard his felled foe. "Speak of him again in that manner and-"

"And what?!" Tyr exploded. "Even a prince is not immune to the penalties of the law, as your precious brother has so graciously demonstrated." He smiled wickedly as he eyed Loki.

The trickster shrunk back, whimpering and hiding his face on his brother's shoulder. "Please, brother," mumbled Loki. He couldn't believe what he was about to say, couldn't fathom why, but he had to. Must I? Why, why, why? "I- I cannot go... He is- he is my master now. Please," Loki looked at a shocked Thor's eyes, "you will only make it worse for me...and yourself..."

Thor stared, wide-eyed and disbelieving. "Loki! How- how can you say-" he sputtered, then, as if something had suddenly dawned on him, he straightened himself and looked with a serious expression at Loki. "Brother." The trickster god could do nothing but heed the thunderer with everything in him. "This was not the first time, was it." It was not a question. "He has done this to you before." The sky darkened further, if that were possible. Thor slowly set Loki on his feet but kept his hands firmly on the younger's shoulders, eyes staring intently at the green orbs. "What has he done to you, brother?"

To both brothers' surprise, a rough laugh echoed from where Tyr lay. "Go on," said the war god. "Why don't you answer him, trickster?" He chuckled and then coughed, leaning on the floor.

Loki shook his head desperately, not wishing to tell his brother. No, I can't, I can't! He shouldn't know, I don't want to...

"Tell him!" screamed Tyr suddenly and Loki jumped, sobbing and whimpering and hugging himself.

"P-please..." Loki cried, tears streaming down his face. "Please don't make me..."

Then suddenly, although he barely noticed at first, it stopped raining. Surprised, Loki looked outside; the sky was dark as pitch, clouds roiling like heavy anger ready to spill forth and drown the world into nothingness. He felt static in the air, could taste it on his tongue. Next, he looked to his brother, but the instant he did he shied away, breath caught in his throat as he could no longer look at the face.

Thor's face was terrifying. But his electric eyes were not on Loki, but on Tyr. Then, without a moment's warning, the god of thunder walked briskly over to the war god, then lifted his hammer and smashed it down atop the war god's head. Then, he did it again. Then again, and again, and again, again, again, again...

Loki, terrified, couldn't watch as blood and mangled flesh filled the floor. He heard himself wail and hold the red cloth of his elder brother tighter around himself. No no no no no. He didn't know why he said no, just that it was the only word that could form in his head at the moment.

Then, silence.

He felt so heavy, so heavy but so light at once, the conflict of his very being making him want to vomit.

Thunder didn't rumble, rain didn't fall, there was only darkness. For the longest moment, everything remained; the realms stopped spinning.

Then, a light. A cloud broke, and then another, then another.

"Loki."

But Loki could barely hear and his eyes held too much water to see.

"Brother."

Then suddenly he was being turned around, the face of his once-brother - no, not once, only now, now-brother - filling his vision. On instinct, fear still clouding his mind, Loki yelped and jumped down, falling to his face in prostration, holding himself tight.

"Brother, no!" said Thor, his large hands falling over Loki and encouraging him to sit up. "Please, please, don't, brother. I am sorry, I..." he trailed off as Loki slowly lifted his head, looking to the thunder god. "I should not have done that in front of you, but- I could not control myself, you were... I could not endure what you had become."

Loki blinked, staring. His gaze then fell on the bloodied unrecognizable form of the war god- former war god on the floor near the window. A breath left his lips. "D-dead..." was all that left his once silver-tongue.

Thor nodded.

"Dead," said Loki again, still staring.

"Yes, brother."

"He's dead," he repeated. Doesn't matter! Doesn't matter! "But it doesn't matter," Loki voiced his thoughts in a low drone without thinking, eyes still wide and staring at nothing now. "Doesn't matter..." I'll only belong to someone else. No nightmare will end. Never end never end.

"I will not let another touch you."

Loki blinked again, eyes slowly drifting up to the powerful firm gaze of the elder god. He frowned.

"I will take you from here. You will not be a slave. I care nothing for a father that does not care for his son." He pulled Loki up with both hands on Loki's shoulders. "You are my brother. If you are no longer Odinson, then I am no longer Odinson. There is nothing simpler in the realms."

Loki could do nothing but blink now. But Thor didn't wait for an answer or an acknowledgement; he simply scooped up Loki into his arms again, then, with hammer in hand, flew out the open window and into the sky.

X - X

Loki awoke with something soft and whispy caressing his face. He tried to nuzzle it away, but realized he couldn't move, trapped in something equally soft but firm. Ah, wonderful, he thought, Tyr has fallen asleep on top of me again... But it didn't smell like Tyr, it smelled like-

He jerked awake, whimpering and struggling at the weight atop him. Suddenly the weight lifted, blonde strands of hair tickling his face.

"Brother!" exclaimed a wonderfully familiar voice. "Calm yourself, it is only I!"

Blinking furiously at the bright light suddenly in his eyes, the younger god stared as best he could at the unbelievable sight before him. Brother! Thor. It was Thor. Thor- Brother. Safe. Warm. Protective. Thor.

Loki couldn't help it, he burst out crying, not caring who might see or hear him.

"Loki, brother, what is wrong?" But nothing was wrong, was it? Everything was right, too right. Loki didn't know where he was, he only knew that he wasn't with Tyr anymore, he wasn't a slave, he was only with Brother and Brother was safe. He grabbed Thor around the neck as Thor embraced him in return, pulling him close.

"You saved me," Loki cried into Thor's shoulder. "I know you did- you saved me!"

Thor's hand ran through his hair, then again and again. "Yes, yes, brother," he kissed him on the nose. "We are not in Asgard any longer - you are safe, we are safe. I told you I would never let another harm you. You know I always keep my word." Loki could hear the smile in his voice and couldn't keep his own smile from forming.

The two finally pulled away as Loki continued smiling. Briefly looking around, he realized they were outside, in some field of grass with trees all around and mountains in the distance. It was a most beautiful sight.

"Where are we?" he asked, glad to turn his attention for a moment to more mundane things.

Thor smiled. "Alfheim. The Light Elves are not beholden to Odin, but they are also not enemies to the Aesir," he finished.

Loki only nodded as he looked around. Free. It was a strange thing, to be free. He hadn't felt free in so long, even before he was made a true slave. When had he last been free? Before Thor's failed coronation? No, even that seemed wrong. His own jealousy and bitterness and anger kept him in a darkness of his own making, and before that, the shadow of his elder brother forever held him in its smothering embrace - it had not mattered that Thor meant no ill by it, it was still there. But now...

The sun shone on Thor's face and it seemed all the brighter. But even with that brightness that seemed to engulf the thunder god, Loki didn't feel shadowed by it; he didn't feel that he stood behind him or under him or anywhere else but beside him. The throne... He gave up the throne... for me? Tears were forming once again in Loki's eyes as he watched the elder. How could he do that?

"Brother," said Thor, catching sight of his distress. "Are you not well?" He shook his head, looking down. "How foolish of me; you have been through Hel and I expect you to recover as soon as you are free, I am sorry-"

Loki stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "No, brother," he said quietly. "It is not you; you have saved me and I can never repay you for that kindness, but..."

The thunderer frowned. "But what?"

Loki looked around, eyes surveying the beauty around them, the multi-colored flowers that spread across the landscape like waves on a green ocean. "You cannot return to Asgard. The throne-"

"The throne means nothing to me if my brother is not at my side," interrupted Thor.

Loki's eyes darted to his, confused. "But-"

"No more 'buts'. If I am ever to return to Asgard, then you will be with me."

"It's your home..."

Thor smiled. "Nay, brother," he said simply, "you are my home." His smile remained and Loki thought he might be lost in it. "The Nine Realms are but a thing. Life is where you are, home is where you are."

Loki didn't know what to say so he sputtered the first thing that came to mind, "B-but what about Mother? She-"

"She is here, Loki. Did you not know?"

The trickster looked about, still confused. "Mother...here?"

"Mother apparently left after your new sentence was named. She had tried so hard for weeks to free you, but... Well, you know Odin." Odin. Not 'father' anymore, but Odin.

His emotions were flowing, clashing against each other, Loki tried to keep his thoughts straight. "H-how do you know? I thought you were on Midgard..."

Thor pursed his lips. "How do you think we came to be here? I have no way of transporting myself across realms."

Loki's eyebrows shot up. "Heimdall?" he blurted out.

Thor nodded, smile lingering. "It seems he already considers Odin a lost king-"

"Then you are his king..." Loki finished, whispering, eyes wide and staring away.

The elder prince tilted his head, conceding the conclusion. "Perhaps. But that will not happen for a long time for the rest of Asgard, I fear."

Loki nodded absently, still mulling over the impossible emotions filling him. Later, later, later! his mind screamed. He didn't care about all that suddenly. The sun was bright and the birds were chirping. The flowers sang to him and the air was clean and crisp and free. He smiled widely and looked to his brother. Brother. My brother. Thor returned the smile. Without thought Loki lunged at him, hugging him around the neck.

"I love you, brother," Loki heard himself say. It was childish, but he felt like a child again, like the child he used to be - carefree and playing in the fields with his older brother; before everything, before lessons and friends and magic and anything that had ever come between them.

"I love you, too," chuckled the thunder god, falling backward when Loki leaned in further.

The mischief god continued smiling as he rubbed his face against Thor's chest, allowing himself to be held. They would go visit their mother soon, see her and be together as a family again, but now, just for now, he would enjoy life, enjoy being here, with nothing in the whole world but Brother, because right now, that's all he needed.

A/N: Aww, fluff! I couldn't end it any other way after all that horrible stuff I did to poor Loki. Realistically, of course, he's not magically all better, but we won't be seeing that recovery process so just enjoy the brotherly fluffiness! (And I know the tone is different at the end compared to the rest of the fic, but again, I'm a sucker for good feels, just had to go that way.) If you'd like, you can imagine this turns into Thorki - or you can keep it bromantic, could go either way, your choice. ^^

A/N 2: I wanted to ask, do you guys think this fic is okay to keep on FFnet? My other stories can get pretty explicit, but this one is particularly brutal, if you ask me. I'd hate for my profile to spontaneously get deleted because of this one story. I have my fics on AO3, of course, so you can follow me there if it does happen.