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Thor stormed into his tent, red cape flapping wildly behind him.
When he heard that his brother was injured during battle, he left command in Tyr’s hands and came back immediately to the camp. To his surprise guards directed him to his own tent when asked where Loki was.
Now breathing heavily he was waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light cast by braziers set here and there to warm up interior of the tent. Panic raced through his heart when he couldn’t spot his brother anywhere. And then his eyes landed on the bed, where under a thick layer of furs a body lay. Thor strolled quietly to where Loki was and cursed when his foot banged against Loki’s horned helmet. That damn thing was always in the way.
God of Thunder sat at the edge of the bed and carefully uncovered his younger brother. Loki was still in his armor, he noticed, tattered and bloodied all over, but at first glance Thor couldn’t see any life-threatening wounds. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he was worried sick from the moment he heard about his brother’s condition.
“Loki.” He whispered, gently tugging at the younger man’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up, we have to get you out of those dirty clothes.”
Loki’s eyes shifted under his eyelids, but still wouldn’t open. Thor was beginning to worry that his brother was in a worse state than he previously assumed. This time he called a little louder.
“Loki, wake up!”
God’s of Mischief eyes fluttered open and after a moment or two focused on Thor.
“Brother… “ He whispered groggy.
“Are you injured?” Thor asked concerned.
Loki looked at him still out of it. It took him awhile to register the meaning of the question. Thor noticed that he was paler than usual and he was very pale to begin with.
“I am alright… just tired,” Finally came an answer.
“Yes, I will let you sleep how much you want, but first let’s take that armor of off you, shall we?”
“Mm… “ Thor didn’t know if that was a ‘yes’, but he didn’t care.
He pulled Loki up into a sitting position and propped him against his chest. The younger man was lifeless as a doll. Thor delicately brushed some lose strands of hair from Loki’s face and began unbuckling his armor. First, the cape – torn and muddy. Then the breastplate- scratched and dented in some places. It must have been a hell of a battle for Loki to look that way and he wasn’t the athletic type to begin with.
It was all Odin’s fault. He ordered his younger son to accompany Thor to this godforsaken land to help him with the conquest. Thor knew that Loki wasn’t comfortable here, that he would prefer some quiet place and a good book over rage of battle, but there was little he could do about it. Odin’s order was law.
Finally he got rid of those dirty clothes leaving his brother only in leather pants. He flipped him carefully so that he could look him in the face. Loki’s eyes were half-closed. His long eyelashes casting shadows on pink cheeks, lips parted and dry.
Thor frowned and lightly brushed his cheek then forehead with back of his hand.
Fever.
It wouldn’t come from nothing.
“Loki, look at me.” Green eyes met blue. “Does it hurt anywhere?”
“My side,” God of Mischief furrowed his brow.
“This one?” Asked Thor and was rewarded with a hiss when his hand touched Loki’s left side. “I think you broke a rib. Wait a moment, I will get some bandages to wrap it up.”
He carefully wrapped black wolf’s fur around those thin ivory shoulders and after a moment of hesitation patted Loki’s head, entangling his fingers in soft raven locks. Thor didn’t want to part with this man even for a moment still anxious about his wellbeing, but he had to get bandages and a bowl of water to clean dirt and blood from his brother’s body.
When he returned Loki was still sitting in the same position, dozing off. Thor never have seen him so exhausted and defenseless. And never felt a greater urge to protect and take care of him than now. Not to mention that it was usually Loki who took care of HIM when after a battle or a brawl he would return bloodied and hurt. Thor could vividly remember Loki’s thin, gentle fingers brushing lightly against his skin to check for bruises and broken bones. Or his careful touch when he wrapped his wounds in clean linen.
Now it was time to repay all those debts.
Thor took a clean cloth, dipped it in a bowl of hot water and gently started to rub it against his brother forehead. Loki was looking at him more consciously now, but he was still very tired. When Thor moved to his chest God of Mischief suddenly wrapped his arms around his neck.
“Loki you’re not helping.” Chuckled Thor. He wanted to untangle himself, but Loki’s grip only got stronger.
“Just for a moment.” He whispered in Thor’s ear. And suddenly Thor could feel that his younger brother was shaking.
He didn’t know if it was the fever or something else so he cupped Loki’s face in his hands and looked him deep in the eyes. What he saw there startled him. His brother, always so cool and composed was crying. His grief stricken eyes clouded with pain and remorse.
“Does it hurt so much? You could have said so earlier so I would have been more careful.”
Loki shook his head. Tears rolled down his cheeks in small torrents disappearing between Thor’s fingers.
“So much bloodshed.” He sobbed. And then Thor understood. It must have been Loki’s first real battle with blood, gore and everything. So much different than those ballads of great and heroic victories that bards sang.
God of Thunder swore in his mind. He should have been there with him! To help and give support to his younger, inexperienced brother. Yet he chose to fight at the front line like always, totally forgetting about anything else. He wanted to punch himself. Instead he hugged Loki really hard, yet careful to not hurt him, closing his muscular arms around his younger brother’s slender frame. He could feel how this small body shook uncontrollably with soft sobs. Thor didn’t know how to comfort his brother. Every word that came on his mind sounded like a lie. So he just held him in his arms and stroked his soft hair with gentle fingers that not even an hour ago brought death to his foes.
After a while he calmed down. Tears stopped flowing from those huge green eyes now reddened from all the crying.
“Go to sleep brother.” He whispered planting a kiss on top of his brother’s head.
“Will you stay with me… just awhile?” Loki asked, voice raw and tired.
“I will.”
He released Loki from his arms and covered him with layers of furs then sat at the edge of the bed and smiled.
“Rest now brother, tomorrow we’ll go home.”
* * *
Thor didn’t know why he remembered this particular memory at a time like this. It seemed like it was ages ago when that happened. They were both so very different back then…
His vision blurred and just then he realized he was crying. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. Tears ran down his cheeks and disappeared in a mop of black locks. He was holding his brother tightly, close to his chest. Red stained his fingers. Suddenly he heard a strained whisper.
“Will you stay with me?” Loki asked fighting to catch a breath. A streak of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
“I will.” Thor answered, his throat clenched.
“Thank… you.” Loki smiled that one of his genuine, lovely smiles and just after that the light faded from his green eyes.
“Rest brother…” Thor rasped.
But this time they wouldn’t be going home together.