Loki navigated the corridors from his own chambers to those of Thor. He had changed out of his hunting clothes and now was clad in a royal blue tunic with gold embellishments, one of the few more colorful choices in his wardrobe. He had initially reached for one of his many go-to dark to black colored ensembles but reconsidered his choice. Loki was very aware of the messages that were sent to others by one's clothing choices. On Asgard as was true of many cultures on Midgard as well, dark colors were often associated with mourning and death. The last message he wished to send to his mother or anyone else was that he was anticipating his brother's demise.

Most Asgardians preferred lighter colored shades for their clothing which reflected the generally joyful and contented nature of the realm's inhabitants. Loki was one of the few that did not, something that, among other traits, he was aware set him apart from the majority of Asgardians. With the exception of anything dripping in gold, he simply preferred darker hues, primarily black and deeper shades of green or blue, often the black accentuated with the others. They favored him, at least he thought so, and no one had ever told him any different. He also appreciatied the air of mystery and the message to be wary, not to cross he who wore them that they signified.

Four einherjar stood sentry outside of Thor's chambers, three more than was customary, lined up before the door, blocking the entrance. They bowed their heads, shifting aside and opening the door for Loki to enter. He knew that there were two more posted directly outside of Thor's bedchambers. Odin was also currently flanked with more guards than usual. Why had his father not also assigned him a retinue of protectors? He supposed the fact that the assailants had already had their chance to fell him and had neglected to do so had something to do with it. If they had wanted him dead, he would already be in Valhalla. The question of why they hadn't taken the opportunity troubled him, not that he wasn't happy to have been left unscathed. It was obvious they wanted him alive. If they wished to disrupt the line of succession, if the attack on Thor was the start of an attempt at some sort of coup or conquest, surely it would have made far more sense to take out both contenders for the throne. The only explanation Loki could come up with was that either someone had a personal grudge against Thor or they wished to ensure that Loki would be the heir and soon take the sacred vows of kingship. If that were the case, someone felt Loki's rule would benefit them more than Thor's. But the assailants, at least the ones whose bodies had been left behind, were of Midgard. Why would they care? Why would this Coulson care? In any case, Loki had no intention of being anyone's useful idiot. He was not a puppet that would dance as another pulled the strings.

As he had expected, his mother had not moved from her position at Thor's bedside. He was, however, surprised to see that Sif had not returned as of yet, the chair placed on the other side of the bed sitting empty. There was another in the room however other than Frigga. Ragna had returned to check on her patient. She was now leaning over Thor, drawing back the sheet and smooth, velvety blanket that covered him to expose the bandage over the exit wound almost center of his abdomen, just slightly below his chest. Loki wordlessly returned to his mother's side, again placing his hand on her shoulder. Frigga did not look to him to acknowledge his presence, her eyes instead watching as Ragna pulled back the bandage to examine the wound.

Ragna did her best to remain stoic though she was clearly not entirely successful. Loki attempted to do the same for his mother's benefit, raising a closed fist to his mouth as if he were about to clear his throat to both obscure his expression of horror at least somewhat and also to block off his nostrils, the air now corrupted with the pungent odor of rot. Frigga gasped, raising one of her hands from atop Thor's to her mouth, tears beginning to flow copiously once again from her eyes as she quietly wept at the sight of the wound, the flesh around the stitched area blackened. Loki was sure he could see the blackness actually expanding, spreading outwards from the wound, Thor's tissue dying in front of his eyes.

"Mother...look away." Loki told Frigga quietly, moving his hand to her head and turning her face towards him. She buried her face into his side as she continued to weep. Ragna looked to be on the verge of sobbing herself as she re-covered the wound.

"There's little more I can do. I'm sorry, my Queen." Ragna said to Frigga, her voice breaking. Frigga turned her tear streaked face from Loki and reached out over Thor, grasping Ragna's hand.

"I know you've done everything you could do. Thank you." Frigga asked.

"I can attempt to wake him though it may only be for a short while if you wish to speak to him." Ragna said to Frigga, Loki fully aware that Ragna was offering her the opportunity to say her goodbyes to her son...and Loki to bid farewell to his brother.

"Will he be in any pain? Will he suffer?" inquired Frigga.

"No. I've relieved him of that burden. He should experience no discomfort." Ragna assured her queen. Frigga turned to Loki, peering up at him mournfully.

"Summon your father."

Loki nodded and left Frigga's side, exiting the bedchamber and turning to one of the einherjar standing guard outside the door.

"Summon the Allfather." Loki said, the einherjar to whom he spoke nodded and bowed his head before leaving his post. Loki turned to the other sentry that was present. "Find Sif as well as Volstagg, Hogun and Fandral. Tell them to come quickly." Loki ordered the guard who also nodded and bowed his head before following the first. Loki stood in the doorway of the bedchamber looking in at his grieving mother and dying brother in a daze.

Was this all a dream? If it was, that would explain the strange sensations of something not being right, not the way it should be. Yet if his mind was telling him it was a dream, why had he not awakened? In the past during his slumber in the midst of a dream, once recognizing it for what it was, he had rather quickly roused from it. If it were a dream, it was the most vivid and realistic he had experienced in his nearly fifteen hundred years of life.

He couldn't begin to count the many times over those years that his brother had vexed him, had been a thorn in his side, though in most cases unintentionally. It was that fact in itself that had often irritated him...his brother's naturally jovial attitude, his boisterous nature that drew others to him like moths to a flame, something that Loki, though a talented actor, had never been able to emulate. All eyes were always on Thor, everyone wanted to be in his presence, to bask in his glow, to heap praise upon him while Loki was at best tolerated. Whenever they had found themselves battling a foe, a part of him had envisioned Thor being slain. Loki had himself often fantasized about ways to be rid of him who cast such an immense shadow that Loki could never escape its darkness. If he had ever truly wanted to do so, however, he could have long ago...it was unlikely Loki could ever best the God of Thunder in combat, though he could hold his own for a time at least, but there were other ways and as intelligent, clever and sly as Loki was, he would have had a good chance of getting away with it as well.

How could Thor have been brought down so easily in moments, he that had fearlessly taken on and bested so many perilous foes, and by mortals no less? It was definitely evidence of the immense value of the element of surprise, something Loki himself well knew the importance of as he employed it quite often to even the playing field to make up for the brawn Thor possessed that he lacked. Not that Loki wasn't physically strong...he was, deceptively so as many an enemy had learned firsthand, and his svelte frame allowed him agility and litheness and a sort of grace in battle that was absent from Thor's fighting style, but he would never be able to measure up to his brother in brute strength.

Loki had always wished for his place in the sun, he desired to take his father's place on Asgard's throne, but this was not the way he had wanted to achieve those things. In fact, part of the satisfaction of gaining them would have been for Thor to witness them and also that they had not come about by default.

Loki had returned to his mother's side. Frigga wiped the tears from her eyes, attempting to put on a brave face along with a warm and comforting smile for her dying son in what was likely to be his last moments as an actor prepares to get into character before going on the stage.

Sif and the Warriors Three entered, their faces expressing sorrow and bewilderment. Despite their knowledge of the dire circumstances, they had up until that moment continued to believe that some way, somehow, Thor's strength and resilience would win out. Sif appeared especially distraught and dazed. It was not only her friend that was leaving them for an eternity in Valhalla but the man that she loved, her hopes dying along with him. Moments later, Odin made his entrance, standing by the foot of the bed, looking down on his ailing son.

"Fate has made its decree? All hope is lost?" Odin asked Ragna who stood behind Sif and the Warriors Three who had gathered on the opposite side of the bed from Frigga and Loki.

"It is so, my King." Ragna answered mournfully.

"So be it. I have no choice but to accept the universe's edict." Odin said as if proclaiming his own.

Ragna approached the bed, Sif and Fandral moving apart from each other to make room for her. She reached out, placing what looked like a smooth crystalline stone onto the center of Thor's forehead which began to glow a bright electric blue as those gathered looked on expectantly. Loki was the lone inhabitant of the room to lift his gaze from Thor, taking in the scene, having moved to stand behind Frigga, both of his hands resting on her shoulders, his eyes moving from Sif and the Warriors Three to his father.

If his and Thor's places were switched he couldn't help but wonder if there would be such a gathering surrounding him to see him off to Valhalla. Of course he could count on his mother and Thor being there and most likely his father as well, though he was reasonably sure only because his father would feel it was his duty to do so. Perhaps the others would make an appearance as well but he had the feeling it would be for a similar reason, not because they would truly be grieved at his passing and most likely more to support Thor than for Loki's sake. Loki had always felt alone in the universe, but perhaps never to the degree he did in that moment . He had up until now convinced himself that he didn't care, it didn't matter, he was perfectly capable of going it alone in life but now he found himself wavering in those convictions. He was also troubled by the fact that in what could be his brother's final minutes it was himself he was thinking about. If his mother knew, who had so often attempted to instruct him and modeled for him to put others before himself, she would be disappointed in him. An emotion overcame him that was rare for Loki….shame.

Thor's eyelids twitched, then fluttered. Ragna removed the apparatus from his forehead as his eyes slowly opened. Frigga grasped his hand tightly, looking down on her son with a loving smile.

"Mother…?" Thor asked, his voice raspy. Loki could not recall Thor ever before appearing so pale and sickly, his voice ever sounding so weak, its usual resonance gone.

"I'm here." Frigga answered still grasping Thor's hand, reaching out with her other to caress his clammy cheek.

"My son….your wound has proven to be mortal. Fate has decided that this day you will join your ancestors in Valhalla." Odin announced as if he were seated on the throne giving a proclamation. Odin's words echoed in Loki's head. None of it seemed real, it couldn't be real.

"I accept its verdict." Thor managed to say. It was at that moment that Loki truly knew that all hope was gone as Thor had never been one to surrender without a fight and concede defeat. "My friends…." Thor said, turning his head towards the opposite side of the bed. Sif had seated herself in the chair in which she had previously sat, taking Thor's other hand in her own.

Sif and the others spoke words of comfort, Sif for the first time in Loki's memory, or perhaps since childhood at least, shedding tears. It was then that Thor for the first time appeared to take notice of Loki's presence as he stood behind Frigga.

"Brother…." Thor said. Loki moved from behind Frigga to stand next to the bed. Thor removed his hand from Frigga's and reached out, taking hold of Loki's own, seeming to study Loki's face, looking into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, brother. If I had-" Loki began, Thor cutting him off.

"This was not your doing. Do not blame yourself. Your intellect far surpasses my own. You have a keen eye and are a careful judge. You will be a good king and a worthy successor to our father." Thor's words left Loki speechless for a moment.

"I will do all I can to prove myself deserving of your confidence." Loki finally responded. It was all he could do to hold his emotions in check but he refused to give the others, Sif especially, the satisfaction of seeing him dissolve into a blubbering mess. In his mind's eye he pictured the mountains of Asgard, the hard rock of which they were made and willed himself to be as they were, a mental trick he had developed long ago in the face of the taunts of Sif, Fandral and the others along with other children who had teased, mocked and derided him in his youth.

Frigga could no longer hold back her grief. Loki released Thor's hand, returning to stand behind her, as she again took hold of it.

"Mother….do not grieve. I go to a better place. We will be together again." Thor looked to all who gathered around him. "In time we will all be together again. Until that day..." Thor then rested his eyes upon Odin still standing at the foot of the bed. "Father...mother. Thank you for my life."

Thor's words proved to be his last. Shortly after uttering them, his eyes closed once again, this time in permanent slumber. It was Frigga who first realized that his breathing and his pulse, weak as it had been that she had felt in his hand as she gripped it, had both ceased.

"No!" Frigga wailed, rising and moving into the bed next to Thor, cradling her son in her arms.

Sif rose swiftly from her chair and rushed from the room as if it were in flames. Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg stood shocked and grieved, rooted motionless where they stood. Odin moved from the foot of the bed, walking around it towards Frigga but stopped as he reached Loki, reaching out and taking his arm. Loki, as if he were in a trance, slowly moved his head from where he stared down at his brother's corpse to look at his father.

"The burden of the throne falls to you now, my son. May you be worthy of it." Odin said before releasing Loki and continuing to Frigga. Standing by the bed, Odin reached out and placed his hand on Thor's forehead as Frigga continued to hold him. "Thor, my son, I bid you to take your place in the halls of Valhalla, where the brave live forever. Nor shall we mourn but rejoice for those who have died the glorious death." After Odin had finished reciting the blessing for the dead, the Warriors Three, their heads hanging, silently made their way out of the room.

Loki exited Thor's chambers a few moments after them, leaving Odin and Frigga alone to grieve for their son, assuring Frigga that he would arrange for Thor's body to be moved and prepared for him to lie in state in the throne room the next day before his funeral the following evening. The Warriors Three and Sif stood gathered in the corridor. As Loki appeared, Sif turned to him, her face tear streaked, her eyes burning with anger.

"You got what you wanted, didn't you? What did you offer them? What was the price of your own brother's life?!" Sif cried in a fury, starting menacingly towards Loki. Loki expected her to be upset and grieving but was taken by surprise by her vehemence and her words. He had believed she blamed him for not acting to save Thor out of cowardice but now it was clear to him that it was more than that. He back peddled a couple of steps away from her as she approached before Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun took hold of her, pulling her back.

"She knows not what she says. It is not her but her grief that speaks." Hogun told Loki.

"You know...all of you know...I loved my brother dearly…"

"You loved him so dearly yet you cannot manage to shed even a single tear! Your heart is of ice!" Sif cried, Hogun and the others struggling once again to hold her back.

"I played my share of tricks, we had our disagreements, our squabbles, but I would never do such a thing. You must believe me." Loki said to Sif and the others, unsure what more he could possibly say to assuage her suspicion. In the state she was currently in, he was reasonably sure there were no words he could possibly utter that would do so. Not that he cared what Sif thought or believed, he told himself, but now more than ever, he knew he must find this Coulson and discover who was truly the guilty party.

"We'll return her to her chambers and remain with her." Fandral said to Loki. Loki nodded, turning in the opposite direction as Sif, weeping, was led away by the others.

*********************

Loki entered his chambers as the sun was setting, the cauldrons having been lit. He thought of how he and his brother had left the palace and entered the forest as that same sun had just risen that morning, no idea of the tragedy that was about to befall them, how the day that had started out as any other, aside from Loki's earlier than usual rising, would end. Loki sank himself heavily into an armchair before the burning cauldron in the middle of the room, staring blankly into the dancing flames.

From beside him, a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Loki turned his head and looked up to see Verda.

"Thor?"

"My brother is dead."

"I'm sorry." Verda said softly, silence falling over them for a moment.

"I told you I would come to you." Loki said.

"Do you wish to be alone? Do you want me to go?" she asked. Loki was silent again for another moment, contemplating.

"No….stay." he replied.

Verda sat herself in Loki's lap, taking his face in her hands, looking into his eyes before pressing her lips to his and then embracing him. Loki slowly moved his arms up to return the embrace, loosely at first before tightening his arms around her as if he were a drowning man grasping onto a buoy.

"You will be king…"

"I never wanted the throne...I believed I did….I know now that I only ever wanted to be his equal."

Verda moved out of Loki's arms and stood in front of him, extending her hand.

"You look tired. You should rest. I will see you to bed." said Verda. Loki looked at the hand she offered before reaching out and taking it, rising from the chair. She began to lead Loki towards the doorway to his bedchambers before she sensed his forward momentum stop. She turned towards him, Loki pulling her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he lustfully kissed her.