Chapter Text
When they came for him, it seemed like an oddly timed joke.
His life as he knew it had ended that day in the darkly lit chambers of the Palace. War Trophy, Second Son, The Dissapointment.
It played on repeat in his head until it was all he could hear. Here on Thanos' rack, it seemed a better mantra than "Kill me, please." He was tired, defeated. He'd given up. So when the sound of thunder stirred him from his pain induced haze, all he could really do was laugh. He was still laughing weakly, coughing up blood when his once-brother's golden head appeared over him. He wanted to apologize, for the bifrost, for everything. But he was so tired, and the words in his head faded to a dull buzz as everything went black.
Life seemed to tip-toe around him, leaving him silent and alone with his noxious thoughts. An entire wing of the healing chambers had been cleared out for him, and he was confined there until further notice. Thor had come by several times, and every time he pretended to be sleeping. Some traitorous part of him whispered that Thor must still care, to come by so often. Another, more vicious part of him argued that it was pity, or guilt. He tried to ignore both of them and sleep.
When he awoke on the first day of his third week, the All-Father was sitting beside his bed.
"When you were a child you had this stuffed toy. Do you remember it? It was a green bilgesnipe with buttons for eyes." His father looked old; older than he had ever looked before, hunched and tired, with skin faded almost to the color of his white hair. He looked like a walking corpse, and Loki was shocked enough to not reprimand himself for still considering this man his father.
He nodded anyways. Odin's eyes crinkled at this, and he wasn't sure whether it was in a smile or pain. "You loved it. Carried it every where you went. Your mother once tried to take it from you to wash and you had a fit." the All-Father trailed off, looking into space as though he was watching it play out in front of him once more. Loki said nothing, and for what seemed like hours, they sat in silence together.
Finally, he gathered his courage. "I am sorry. For what that's worth." this drew Odin out of contemplation, as if he had forgotten Loki was still here.
He probably had, his venomous mind supplied He said nothing more.
"You still carried that toy everywhere when I left for the battle in Vanaheim." his father continued, ignoring his apology completely.
"For some reason, that battle in particular left me cynical and world-weary. I fell into one of my deepest sleeps, but I think it was harder on you boys and your mother."
Loki could think of nothing to say to that. Had his father ever spoken to him of his feelings before? He could not remember a single instance. His heart pounded and his ribs ached, but still he said nothing.
Odin continued, "When I awoke, I found your toy by my side, with a note."
For the first time in the conversation he moved, reaching into his cloak for something. In his hand lay a worn cotton animal and a piece of parchment. He took them from his fathers calloused hands, shaking slightly.
"To Papa, get better soon!" the note read in his mothers handwriting. He supposed he hadn't been able to write at this age. The note continued "Bilgey will protect you! He is fierce and scary and he protects me so he will protect you too." Following this was a charcoal scribble he assumed must have been a drawing of the toy.
"You kept this."
It wasn't really a question, but his father nodded all the same.
"You were right, in a way, to think I've treated you and Thor differently. I have, though it may not have always been intentional. Thor is..." he trailed off.
Loki looked down and the toy and cleared his throat. "Honorable? Brave?"
"...a Fool, Loki."
At his sharp intake of breath, Odin continued. "Yes, he is honorable. Yes, he's always been rather fearless. I never doubted that he would be an honorable warrior, but he is a fool. He does not stop to think of the consequences of his actions, his ego won't allow it. He's never been skilled at sensing others distress; He lacks the introspection or self-awareness to do so."
At this he turned his one good eye to Loki, and Loki flushed scarlet and looked down at his hands.
"But you? You were brilliant from the first day I brought you home. You felt everything so keenly, not just your own griefs, but mine and your mother's. While I knew Thor would make a fine warrior, I had no doubt that whatever you would shine in any role you chose. I never fussed over you because I thought you didn't need it."
His voice broke here, and Loki watched as the only father figure he'd ever had scrubbed furiously at the tears forming in his eye. Some hysterical part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of King Odin of Asgard, the All-Father, ever weeping, but he felt frozen in place.
"It was my greatest mistake, Loki, and one I regret dearly. You were so wise from such a young age, I forgot that you were still a child. It never occurred to me you could not see how proud I was of you."
Loki couldn't breathe. His eyes swam with tears unshed. "Father, I-I'm so sorry" he choked this out between gasping breaths, and reached out a hand to his father and king, who clasped it tightly between his own.
"It was a mistake, I knew- I knew as soon as I did it I had made.. a-" He could barely speak between sobs and his father pulled him tightly to his chest.
The pain in his ribs flared up in protest, but he felt so removed from the present it hardly mattered.
"I know, son. I know. I'm sorry too. But we will fix this. All of this, we'll do it together."
The ache in his ribs burned, but his heart was lighter than it had been in ages. If everything worked out in the end, he supposed he might not mind being the second son after all.