Chapter Text
It was as if someone had pulled him from black waters and into a golden light.
He inhaled on instinct, like a fish on dry land, and only then found himself kneeling on the elaborately detailed floor of the throne room in Asgard, with Mjolnir at his side, whole and unharmed. Another breath, and he knew it was a dream.
He raised his gaze, still gasping for air. Around him, as many Asgardians in a single room as now existed in the entire universe, and beyond the walls, their entire people, blissfully unaware of what would happen to them. On the throne up the stairs, his father, weary, but strong and undoubtedly alive. Standing on the stairs, his mother, clad in a heavy golden cloak, looking at him with a mixture of pride and barely hidden exasperation; The Warriors Three and Lady Sif, their expressions level but pleased. And finally, his brother, looking on with what Thor would once have thought to be quiet acceptance.
"Do you swear?"
His mouth open, he focused his eyes on the Allfather, trying to make sense of his dream. This had been his failed coronation, what now felt like eons ago. What was he meant to swear? Fealty to his people? Protection to the realm? He couldn't even protect his own family. Resisting the urge to shake his head from side to side till he awoke, he instead pinched the flesh of his thigh. It ached, a genuine sting rather than the ghost pain of illusions, and the golden room remained intact. A dream ought to have rippled away and given way to reality.
He stared at his hand, then up at his father, more at a loss by the moment.
"Thor Odinson, do you swear?" There was an unmistakable trill of annoyance to Odin's tone, carefully masked underneath all its dignity.
There was only one thing he could say. "I swear."
When the clamor from the treasury disrupted the ceremony, he barely noticed. He got on his feet, fully aware the feeling of the floor under his soles was too real for even the most life-like of dreams, and when he gripped Mjolnir's shaft, the leather around the grip felt like it had never left his hand.
His eyes briefly met Loki's as they rushed to the treasury. They revealed nothing.
By the time they had secured the Casket of Ancient Winters, his mind was a maelstrom. He barely heard his father's words, his contentment at the the treasury's security measures, andonly vaguely recalled the outrage he had felt when he had first lived this moment, his eagerness to do battle heedless of consequences, like it had happened to another person entirely.
Perhaps it had.
This time, he could only nod and agree with his father, both too preoccupied in trying to understand what was happening to him, and knowing the Allfather's words were far wiser than his folly of youth had been. "Should we look for further interlopers?"
Odin nodded. "Heimdall has never failed us before." He raised his gaze towards the ceiling. "We shall postpone the ceremony till tomorrow, after we have made sure the realm is secure."
Thor nodded along. It would give him time to understand what was happening to him. Had he truly traveled back in time, or had he been somehow transported into a dimension so similar to his own past not even he could tell the difference?
As he pondered this, his father gave him a single, long look, followed by a nod of approval. He gestured at them to follow him back to the throne room.
Loki, who had followed the conversation without so much as a quirk of the eyebrow, matched his pace to Thor's as they climbed the stairs from the treasury. "You held your temper well."
In response, Thor grabbed him by the wrist. The carefully crafted neutral expression gave way to polite confusion, but what truly mattered was the genuine flesh and bone in his grasp, and underneath the heavy fabrics, a live, quickening pulse.
Alive. Unquestionably alive.
He let go, not bothering to excuse himself. He needed time, preferably alone, before he said anything more.
And if there was a shred of mercy in this universe, he thought as he climbed on, Loki's eyes staring at the back of his head as if trying to see through his skull, perhaps he would get to spend that time alone with a cask of the strongest ale Asgard had to offer.