*Completed* Sympathy for the Devil (Loki)

Part 3

     Loki sat, propped up on about a dozen pillows, his nose buried in a book I'd fetched for him. At least his love for literature hadn't left him, and a small smile worked its way onto my face as I silently gazed upon his intensely focused face. He was so absorbed; he overlooked Mother when she came in and sat down on the chaise lounge next to me.

     "How are my boys today?" She asked with a pleasant smile.

     "I'm well, Mother." I supplied, and Loki glanced up from his book in surprise, offering a smile. Still silent. It had been over a day, now, and still, not a sound.

     "Would you care for some more soup, Loki?" The queen offered, and Loki nodded with a grateful smile as he shoved his nose in his book, again, satisfied that she didn't want anything in particular from him.

     As she set the bowl down on the table next to his bed, a shadow passed over her face as she gently stroked back Loki's hair. "My son..."

     Loki didn't lookup.

     "Loki."

     For some reason, that was what made him react, looking up at her with wide, surprised eyes. I wasn't sure what the source of the astonishment was, but Frigga smiled sadly and shook her head. "Of course, you're my son, Loki. Blood matters little, in the grand scheme of things."

     This seemed like an entirely new concept to my brother, and he laid aside the book entirely, blinking up at her in confusion.

     Gently, she took his two hands in her own and gazed deep into his eyes. "Why do you not speak, dearest?"

     He didn't answer, only dropped his gaze down to his fidgeting hands with a timid, frightened smile that held no joy.

     I got up and placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder, noting how he didn't flinch away, so it must not be through any fault of my own that he held his tongue. "We shan't be upset at you, Brother."

     He only shook his head.

     "Perhaps you could write it?" Mother offered. "I can get you a notebook and a pen...."

     Loki hesitated, his brow furrowed thoughtfully before he shook his head again.

     "Then it's a choice you're making?" Mother asked. "To not communicate with us?"

     A nod.

     "Is it because of something we did?" I guessed, but the reaction from that was immediate. Loki shook his head as forcefully as his weakened state would allow and squeezed Mother's hands insistently, as if saying, you mustn't believe that. I shared a helpless glance with her over his dark head.

     "Would you speak to someone else, perhaps?" Mother wondered, but I doubted anyone Loki trusted more than she and I, so that was already answered. Then, as I predicted, he shook his head, glancing between us in confusion.

     It did seem like he didn't understand why we were trying to get him to speak. Perhaps it was only through selfishness, at least on my part. If he genuinely didn't want to do something, we had no right to force him. However, if he couldn't tell us how he hurt, we couldn't make it better. And it's not as if we were using force or something. He was free to speak, or not speak, as he wished, just as apparent as we wanted.   

     I could barely even remember his voice, to be honest. It had been so long...

     At that moment, a servant approached the three of us and bowed to my mother in deference. "Your Highness, you have an audience requested in the throne room."

     Loki tilted his head in curiosity. It was long after the court had closed, and the sun was setting. Who would have the audacity to summon the All-mother, herself, to the throne room for an audience? Perhaps Father had awoken.

     As Mother left the room, I turned back to my brother, determined to, at least, get him to laugh.

     "Brother?"

     He looked up at me in interest from his book. It strung a strange chord in my heart, in truth.  Before he fell, interrupting Loki's reading was the highest crime of them all. He wouldn't act as if I had something far more important than whatever he was reading; instead, he'd glare at me or ignore me altogether. Never mind. If I could get him to laugh, things would be slightly back to normal.

     "Do you remember the time we went on that hunting trip to Alfheim?" I smirked. This story he often reminded me of when I needed to be taken down a few pegs. He'd always found it hilarious, but now, he stared at me in interest and nodded.

     "And... we were going after a dragon that didn't exist?" I prompted with a hopeful smile. "I made a total fool of myself in front of everyone?"

     A flicker of remorse passed over Loki's face, and he nodded again, avoiding my gaze.

     Why?

      Why was he so broken that my idiocy failed to cheer him up? Even when he was sick, he would poke fun at me when I sat by his bedside to cheer himself up. But, of course, I didn't mind since everyone makes mistakes, and if focusing on mine made him feel better, so be it. At least he was smiling. But... he wasn't, now.

      "Or the time you turned me into a frog?"

     At this, he looked sorry. Remorseful.

     For the thing that had made him laugh so hard, he couldn't breathe and never failed to at least bring a smile to his face every time it was brought up again. His green eyes flicked up to me, a miserable question that I couldn't quite understand swimming in them.

     "Why are you looking at me like that?" I fidgeted. "Why aren't you laughing?"

     He blinked in surprise as if he'd never dream of laughing at those things. As if he was a different person who sympathised with me and not the perpetrator of the deeds. The one who was supposed to find them funny.

     In despair, I dropped my head into my hands. What a terrible brother I must be, to not even be able to get him to laugh when he was upset. But, then, a gentle hand laid on my shoulder, and I looked up to see him leaning forward with a concerned look. What's the matter? His eyes wandered.

      "Don't worry about it." I sighed and offered him a smile. He knew me far too well to be fooled. Despite his shaking limbs, he leaned forward and wrapped his weak arms around me, resting his dark head on my shoulder.

     To put it lightly, I was floored.

     Loki didn't initiate hugs.

     He just... didn't. He didn't even like hugs.

     Whoever this was, it was no longer Loki. Yes, it was my brother, but he was broken beyond recognition. It was another reminder that the man I'd grown up beside was gone.

     It seemed so hopeless. I couldn't even get him to laugh anymore. He didn't speak. This meek, compliant, sensitive creature was all I had left of him. He was sweet and thoughtful now. He always had been, but it seemed that was the only trait that had survived Thanos.

     It was heartbreaking.

     I leaned into his embrace and buried my face in his shoulder, fighting tears. This seemed backwards. Wasn't I the one who was supposed to be giving comfort to him?

     "Thor." I looked up to see Mother standing in the doorway, her face marred by confusion. "Do you know this woman?" She stepped to the side, revealing a young woman with dark curls framing her face and huge brown eyes, a determined air about her. Mutely, I shook my head, but as soon as Loki laid eyes on her, his whole face split into the broadest, most joyful grin I had ever seen on his face. The girl sprinted to his side and flung her arms around his neck, laughing in delight.

     "I missed you, Loki!" She whispered into his hair. "It's been so long...."

     "Loki?" I questioned, but he only sent me a happy glance before pressing his lips to the girls.