this takes place a year or so after Thor (2011)
It would serve you and your people well to go to Loki's chambers.
Heimdall's voice echoes in Thor's head as he makes his way through the palace halls. He hasn't the slightest idea what his words might mean. He doesn't know that he wants to. He'd very nearly refused – he did refuse, even, the first time Heimdall said it. But he'd insisted, and, try as Thor might, he can't find it in him to argue with the man who possesses the All-Sight.
The walk to Loki's room feels longer than it used to be. Every step is filled with dread, and time and time again, he finds himself wondering if he could just turn back; if he could simply return to Himinbjorg and apologize; tell Heimdall that he can't do it.
He hasn't stepped foot in Loki's room since his death. He can't bring himself to relive the memories he and his brother have made there; playing valkyries together or sharing a bed when one of them couldn't sleep. Loki's bedroom has always been a safe haven for him. Loki had always been a safe haven for him. And now that safe haven is gone.
He wishes he'd known what had happened. He wishes somebody had told him what his brother had learned. If only he'd been able to make sense of Loki's actions, to see that it wasn't jealousy motivating him so much as fear and loneliness.
If he'd known, maybe he could have talked to him.
If he'd known, maybe he could have stopped him.
He's put on a decent facade, he'd say, over the last year or so. Everybody knows, of course, that he's upset. Everybody knows that he misses his brother. But nobody knows just how much it hurts. That's between him and the pillow that collects his tears every night.
He stops outside of Loki's room, hand hovering just above the doorknob. He could open it right now. He should open it right now. He should open it and he should step inside and he should figure out what Heimdall wants from him and then he can leave and put this behind him. It sounds so easy. It is so easy. So why is it so hard?
He takes a deep breath. Here he goes.
He slowly, carefully twists the doorknob, and, after one last moment of hesitation, he pushes the door open. It's dark in here, though the light from the hallway and that of the window with the shade drawn illuminates the room just enough that he can make it out.
It looks exactly the same as it always has.
And that hurts more than anything else could.
He takes a step into the room and looks around. It's clean; far cleaner than Thor's room. Loki's always been like that. He's always liked to keep things organized. Thor used to make fun of him for it, and Loki used to do the same to him. What he wouldn't give to hear his little brother make fun of him one more time.
But then Thor catches sight of his bed.
His bed is not neat.
And Thor knows for a fact that Loki made his bed every morning, because he used to make fun of him for doing the servants' jobs for them.
He approaches it cautiously. Is this what Heimdall warned him about? Is this more than just a bundle of messy blankets? Is there something – someone here? Who would have broken into a dead prince's room just to take a nap?
Thor pulls the shades up, letting the sun's rays stream into the room. It's a better idea than approaching in the dark, he's sure.
There's a quiet groan from Loki's bed, and the mess of blankets shifts a little.
That answers that question, then.
Thor stalks over to the bed and rips the blankets away. Whoever this is, they're going to pay for–
Wait.
Thor's eyes go wide. "Loki?"
Loki groans quietly, curling in on himself in the tightest ball he can make. "Stop it," he mumbles. "Cold."
Thor drops to his knees beside the mattress, eyes filling with tears. He's alive. His brother is alive. He looks like pure shit. His greasy hair sticks to his face; his skin shines with the glimmer of his sweat; his eyes are rimmed with the shadows of sleepless nights. But he's alive.
Loki's alive.
Without thinking, Thor throws his arms around him, burying his face against his brother's side. "Loki," he whispers. "You're here. You're alive."
"So cold," Loki mumbles.
"I can't believe it," Thor says. "Is this real? Am I dreaming?" It would be far from the first time he's seen his brother in his dreams, but this feels so... real. The sense of relief, it feels too real, too strong for this to all be a dream.
Loki rests his hand on the back of Thor's neck, sending a chill through his body. "Brother?" he whispers.
It takes every ounce of self-control Thor has not to start sobbing then and there. He holds his brother a little bit tighter. "It's me," he says quietly. "It's just me."
"Brother?" he whispers again. "Blankets. Cold."
Thor lifts his head, and it's only then that he sees how badly his brother is shaking – shivering in the warmth of the room despite the many layers of clothing. Why he's so cold, Thor can't say. Still, with a rushed apology, he obliges, covering him back up with the blankets he'd just pulled away. Loki pulls them in close, and it's only then that he finally opens his eyes.
Thor gives him a small smile, though it does nothing to hide the tears in his eyes. "You're back."
Loki nods, barely perceptible against his pillow. "I am."
"But... how?" Thor asks. "I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead. We mourned you; we..."
Loki's expression grows impossibly more solemn. "You shouldn't have."
Thor furrows his brows. "What?"
"You shouldn't have mourned me. Not after what I did."
Thor sighs. "Loki..." He reaches out a hand, gently cupping his brother's face in his palm. "Father told me what happened. He told me about your heritage and the way you had to learn of it. And with everything else that had happened, I do not blame you one bit for what you did. I only wish I'd understood then what I do now."
Loki pulls his arm out from underneath his pile of blankets and rests his hand on top of his brother's. He smiles sadly. "I'm sorry."
"I am, too."
Loki takes his hand away, so Thor begins to do the same. Loki stops him, gently bringing his hand back to his face before tucking his own back under the blankets. Thor cocks his head to the side. What is he...?
"You're warm," Loki says simply.
Thor frowns. "Are you really this cold?" he asks. "I could go find you some tea or some soup–"
"Don't," Loki says quietly. "Don't leave me."
Thor just nods. He can do that. If Loki wants him to stay, he can do that. "Are you alright? You look..." like shit, he wants to say. Maybe it's best that he doesn't finish that sentence.
Loki shakes his head. "I'm so cold."
Thor sighs. "Loki..."
"I'm cold and I'm hungry and I'm so tired," Loki whispers. "There are things I need to do, but I can't make myself get up."
"You don't need to do anything right now," Thor tells him. "If you want to stay in bed and rest, you should do that. I'll go find Mother and–"
"No," Loki says quickly. "No, don't..."
Thor furrows his brows. "You don't want them to know?"
"Don't leave me," Loki pleads. "Please. Stay here. I don't want to be alone."
Thor smiles sadly. "Of course," he says. "I'll stay with you as long as you'd like." Heimdall will inform their parents, he's sure. Right now, there's nothing more important to him than his brother's well-being. "How are you here? How are you alive?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Loki says. "I don't want to think about it. I just..." He sighs and shifts under the blankets. When he pulls his hand out from under them, he's holding... the Tesseract? But that doesn't make sense. They've learned about it in their studies, but it's been lost from Asgard for millennia. And yet, here he is, holding the glowing cube as though it's the most normal thing in the world. "We can use this to fix the Bifrost, but I need it back."
Thor's confusion only grows. "Loki, where did you get that?"
"I made a deal," he says. "He offered me the world. I told him I only wanted to come home."
Thor's heart breaks for him. He can't imagine what kind of deal Loki made, and he doesn't care. All this power, and Loki used it to come home. He wants to help them rebuild the Bifrost. He wants to fix their mess and he wants to put this all behind them. They can start fresh. They can fix things. Even in his wildest dreams, he never dreamed of this.
The Tesseract disappears, and Loki pulls his arm back inside his mountain of blankets. "It's so cold."
Thor sighs and gently rubs his thumb against his brother's face. "What can I do?"
There's a pause, then Loki slides over to the other side of his bed. He lifts the blankets, an invitation of sorts, and looks at his brother hopefully. "Keep me warm?"
Thor gives him a small smile and crawls into bed with him. He allows his brother to bury him under his blankets, and though he starts sweating within seconds, he doesn't say a word. He just wraps his arms around his brother and holds him to his chest.
Heimdall was right. Miracles happen in Loki's chambers.