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It was a nameless planet, some desolate rock that circled a sun.
No, that wasn’t right…
It was a nameless planet, that much was true, but it was far from desolate. This was a beautiful place, teeming with life. The ground was covered in long grass, the deepest of greens and ashy blues, peppered with pulsating, glowing wildflowers.
And blood.
Red, red blood. So much of it that it stank, suffocating and thick in the air.
Thor felt dizzy, stumbling his way through rough rock and stickied long grass that stained his boots crimson. He was on a cliff, they were on a cliff and the salty breeze of the ocean did nothing to cover the smell of blood.
No, it only blew the acrid, metallic stench back into Thor’s face.
It was shortly after dawn when Thor landed on this planet, heeding a call from his Brother. It could be another ploy, or it could be a genuine call for help and Thor knew he could not live with himself if Loki needed him.
He would always go to Loki.
But, Thor was too late…
Thunder rumbled overhead, the sky grew dark. Thor felt sparking, snapping currents run through his body, threatening to overtake him as tears blurred the edge of his vision. His throat ached, burned as he held back his anguish.
Long, black hair rustled in the breeze; not all of it had been matted down by blood and mud. Desperate, pained noises escaped Thor’s grasp, the sounds leaking despite his best control.
Thor felt weak, his hand trembling and thunder broke through, deeper, louder than any cry he could muster from the depths of his breast.
But, he held the storm back and forced it down; he didn’t deserve the comfort of his storm as he dropped to his knees at Loki’s side.
Loki was in the centre of the bloody mass, the grasses and flowers flattened, fanned around him in a perfect circle.
What… What could have happened to him…?
Thor reached out, a strained sob escaping his throat as his vision watered over. He couldn’t hold back his tears as easily as he could hold back his storm.
“Brother…” a weak, rasping voice whispered and Thor was scrambling forward before he could think.
Loki was in his arms, wincing, sighing, his breathing shallow and unsatisfying.
Thor smiled and blinked away his tears, letting them fall fat and heavy onto Loki’s blue-grey face. The marks were there again, the ones of his birth, the ones that solidified that he was not Æsir, but Jötunn.
“I’m here, Brother is here…” Thor was trembling, touching Loki’s face, feeling just how cold he was. But Loki was Jötunn, so perhaps the cold was not such a bad sign…
Loki smiled, his green eyes glassy and unfocussed, as if he couldn’t see.
Panic struck through Thor, but this was familiar, was it not…?
Loki and his pranks… Loki was strong! He… He just needed to rest…
There was so much blood around them, it painted the grass thickly, blotted out the glow from the ethereal flowers. It was a beautiful place, no wonder Loki had sought solace here.
“You came…” Loki smiled. Blood had dried on his face where it had once run from the corner of his mouth, as if he had sustained heavy internal injuries.
But, Thor was here now, there was nothing to fear!
There was nothing to fear…
Thor wiped away his tears, laughter bubbling up from his breast as he grinned so wide it hurt. “I’m here, Brother. You’ll be all right…” Thor whispered, he cooed. He wiped the blood from Loki’s face and felt his storm receding.
A laugh escaped Loki, short and airy, followed by a cough. Fresh dark red blood stained Loki’s lips, his teeth. Thor felt blood splatter onto his face. He held Loki in his arms, unable to move, unable to comprehend what was happening.
Loki shuddered in his arms, drawing in sharp little gasps of air. The blue of Loki’s skin faded, leaving only the grey. His eyes grew more glassy, and he drew one last shallow, rasping breath. “Thor…”
Thor was alone.
Loki was limp in his arms, his eyes open and unseeing, the green of his eyes dull.
Lifeless.
Thor curled over Loki’s body and wept, but no storm accompanied him. Thor felt devoid of anger, powerless.
He… He found Loki, so why!
Why was he alone now…?
Frigga, Óðinn, Loki…
His entire family had left him, to become the stars that lit the night sky and guided the cosmos.
Thor held Loki’s body until he was numb, his muscles stiff from sustained tension. He held Loki’s body as the sun blazed overhead, and longer still, into the depths of the night.
Sunrise knocked Thor out of his stupor, Loki’s black curls tickling his hand. He must have closed Loki’s eyes at some point during the night, his brother’s lifeless green irises no longer taunting him.
He forced himself to lay Loki down; there was work to be done before night fell once more.
Thor had a funeral pyre to build. It was best to light the pyres at night, so their souls could find the heavens more easily, their resting place amongst the stars.
This was a beautiful place, Thor allowed himself to think; he would return here. He would gaze upon the glowing flowers, he’d look at the sky, day and night.
He would remember Loki’s star, its location.
He would carry the regret of never reconciling with Loki for eternity.
Loki lay in the bed of soft grasses and glowing flowers that Thor had made for him. He gathered all of the bloodied grass and mud as the base for his funeral pyre, then he took fresh grasses and flowers to cover the blood and mud, before laying his brother down at the centre, atop his stained cape.
It was the right thing to do. Thor didn’t know anything about Jötunn burials, and well…
Would Loki have wanted a Jötunn funeral anyway?
None of this was what Thor wanted…
He was alone now, entirely alone, in the looming, ever expanding universe…
Frigga left them first, and then Óðinn, and now, Loki…
Thor looked at the peaceful countenance on his brother’s face, the anguish gone. Had he ever seen Loki look so at peace even once during their long lives…?
The sun was barely high in the sky after he settled Loki upon the pyre. Thor made a fire near the cliffside and watched the waves crashing along the shore as he waited for nightfall.
The wildflowers still glowed even after being plucked, though they grew dimmer as the day wore on. Their soft yellows and purples slowly pulsed, drawing Thor’s attention. He reached out, tracing his fingers over the unfamiliar ridges of Loki’s true face.
Memories rushed to Thor unbidden, a time when he was a boy, being taught his lessons for being King, but not by Óðinn… It was Frigga whispering to him her secret knowledge of the universe, how to twist the essence of the universe, bend life and death to his will.
A drop of blood could be the most powerful weapon, a most potent poison. Or antidote…
There was a solution to Thor’s torment, a way he could bring Loki back, keep him safe, and end his loneliness. He could show Loki his true feelings, hold him close, press his lips—
Thor realized he was hovering over Loki’s body, a breath away from pressing their lips together. A gasp escaped Thor and he turned back to the sea, packaging up all such indecent thoughts, tucking them away.
Night fell and Thor still stared into the crashing sea.
He had gathered dry kindling, holding it in his hand like a dreadful bouquet. All he needed to do was summon a spark, and Loki would be released back into the universe, to become a star, to watch over him…
And then, Thor would be truly alone…
Thor never pulled himself from the cliffside. Darkness eased away with the coming dawn, the opportunity to send Loki off lost.
Lost… Loki had been so lost, his entire life. Always closer to Frigga, his gifts just as profound as hers, perhaps more so…
But, was Thor not a son of Frigga, just as Loki was…?
He wiped at the tears staining his cheeks, he summoned his anger and…
And he refused to be alone.
Thor threw the dry kindling over the cliff, sending it to the sea.
No. He would not be alone.
Thor circled around Loki’s body, until he stood at his feet.
There was no one here, it was an abandoned rock in the cosmos. No one would know…
Thor dropped to his knees and let the coolness of the earth soak through his trousers to his skin before he made the determination to start crawling forward, ripping away his own armour, tossing it aside. He was between Loki’s ankles.
Seiðr was not… He was not skilled at it, but it was available to him, and the darkest of seiðr thrummed beneath his fingertips, the urge, the itch to use it.
Thor refused to be alone.
He pulled at Loki’s boots, he pushed his thighs open. His hands trembled as he made clumsy work of the latches and buckles of Loki’s trousers.
He would not be alone.
Thor pulled at the rest of his clothes until he was nude on that desolate cliffside. He pulled at Loki’s clothes until he lay entirely exposed beneath Thor. His skin was so pale, grey and blue and bloodied.
Blood seiðr was the most powerful, the most dangerous, and the easiest to use.
He pushed Loki’s thighs wide apart, his cock already shamefully half-hard.
But Thor refused to be alone.
He hissed as he bit at his fingertips until the blood flowed hot and freely. It plipped, plipped, plipped, onto Loki’s abdomen and Thor took in a shaky breath, drawing the essences of the universe toward himself. He closed his eyes, felt the flow of energy circulating through his body, the essence of life pooling low in his belly.
Seiðr is inherently sexual, best suited to those that could bring forth new life from the nothingness. It was because of this that women were deemed most befitting of seiðr use, and men flocked to the sword, to avoid implications of ergi. Skilled seiðmaðr were rare and Thor could only think of ever knowing two, Óðinn and Loki.
But Ásgarðr be damned, for Thor refused to leave this rock alone.
Thor circulated his lightning through his body, letting it spark from his bleeding fingers, a slight rumbling of thunder vibrating through his body. More blood dripped onto Loki’s abdomen and Thor used it to paint runes. He started at Loki’s abdomen, forcing more blood from his body as he continued in a circle around Loki’s navel, up his chest, across his arms, and back down his legs.
Loki looked so at peace and Thor allowed himself a rueful smile. He knew he was disrupting the peace Loki deserved, entirely for his own selfishness. He painted runes onto Loki’s face, disrupting his peace, tracing the lines of his Jötunn heritage.
Thor was going to break the one law of the universe, and he’d sacrifice everything to have Loki back. It was easier than expected, to pull at the strings of nature around him, wrenching at any life essence he could.; the grasses and flowers around the funeral pyre wilted, turning brown before they blew away as ash.
He bit at his fingers again, to renew the blood flow before he started painting himself, though with far less runes. One above and below his navel, one atop each thigh, three over his heart, one over his right breast. One upon his forehead, one for the apple of each cheek, a smearing of blood over each eye.
He went back to Loki’s face, smearing blood across his eyes, like garish makeup, before he drew bloodied lines over grey-blue lips. Three drops of blood seeped between Loki’s lips, an anchor point for the seiðr.
He picked up Loki’s stiff hand, biting his finger and pressing his slow and thick blood into Thor’s own navel before he dripped three drops of his blood into Loki’s. He licked the blood from Loki’s fingers and settled his arm gently upon the grasses and dying flowers, they had no life left to give, and were spared becoming ash, ironically the only greenery left around them in a wide, ever growing circle.
The preparations were concluded, but Thor hesitated. This was dangerous seiðr he was playing with, and with a seiðmaðr such as Loki… Thor knew he had not the skill, nor the patience, not like Loki did.
He never did have the courage to learn seiðr.
But, he refused to be alone.
He lacked the experience to love a man, but Thor understood what would be necessary. Thor bit and renewed the blood flow, hand trembling as he hesitated. He drew in a sharp breath and pushed two bleeding fingers into Loki.
Nothing happened.
Thor hissed in frustration. He would give his lifeforce to Loki, force it into him!
He circulated his lightning through his body as he pushed and pulled his fingers from Loki’s body. Pathetic sounds left Thor’s throat as he forced his wounds to remain open, so that he might push as much of his own blood into Loki as he could.
Loki was cold and tight, his body unyielding. Thor twisted his fingers, his eyes screwed shut. He wanted to think of anything but the coldness around his fingers.
He opened his eyes, forcing himself to watch what he was doing to Loki. Blood dripped out of Loki’s hole, Thor gathered it back up and forced it inside of him. He wanted to hate the way his body reacted to this act, he wanted to be disgusted with himself but…
Thor refused to be alone.
Loki’s body was relenting and Thor added a third finger. He spread them wide, pushing as deep as he could, his lightning sparking along his bleeding fingertips, sparking inside of Loki.
There was no reaction from Loki, his body just as cold and still, his face still calm, peaceful. It was foolish to hope that this meager amount of seiðr would have been enough, the runes, the blood, but no…
Thor knew what he had to do. His cock was painfully hard and he let out a shaky breath, withdrawing his fingers from Loki’s hole, slowly.
He coated his cock in his own blood. It was sticky and it would drag, but he didn’t care. This was how the ritual was done.
It was not meant to be pleasant.
And yet, Thor was shamefully exposed, the head of his cock pulling free of foreskin on its own, guilt pooling low in his gut at his lust for his own Brother. He sobbed, stroking his cock, coating himself in blood until he was dripping onto the wilting grasses and flowers beneath them.
Would Loki even have enough blood left in his body to complete this ritual…?
Thor had gathered every blade of bloodied grass. Loki was a childe of the earth, his connection to nature unparalleled.
It would be enough. Because Thor refused to be alone.
He let his lightning, his seiðr, infuse with his blood as he continued to slick his cock in his own blood and power. He dipped his fingers beneath his foreskin, coating himself in as much blood as he could. This was a disgrace, a shame he forced upon his brother, and it didn’t matter.
Thor rubbed the head of his cock against Loki’s cool entrance, ignoring just how stiff and cold he felt. It would change. It would be fine.
It was difficult, his cock slipping against Loki’s tight hole. There was no way for his brother to relax, and so, Thor bit into his bottom lip, redoubling his efforts. His grip was painful at the base of his cock, his other hand digging bruises into Loki’s hip.
He pushed, he slipped, he pushed again and Loki’s body finally relented.
A shuddering, shameful gasp left Thor’s breast as he sank into Loki slowly, until he was entirely sheathed. Age old desires, fantasies, threatened to allow Thor a modicum of comfort. He didn’t allow them, pushing them back where they belonged, deep in the pits of his mind.
Seiðr spiraled around them, he could feel it. He drew the seiðr into his body with each breath, pushing it into Loki with each shallow thrust. A groan escaped Thor, warmth starting to gather low in his gut. He was enjoying this…
Thor shook his head at his own shame, the guilt threatening to overwhelm him, but he shoved that down, too. He wanted this. He’d wanted this with Loki for an age, and if this was the only way he was going to be allowed to have it…
So be it.
Thor drew back his hips, only the tip remaining inside of Loki. He took a shaky breath, and then he thrust forward. He set a brutal pace, moving his hips with a roughness that Loki didn’t deserve…
A dark laugh left Thor at that thought. Maybe… maybe his brother did deserve it. Maybe this would finally get Loki to see just how!
Thor gasped and groaned, pushing his life force into Loki, forcing his cold, dead body to take it.
And, it was working. With each thrust, each snap of his hips, he could feel the seiðr pooling into Loki, and a seiðmaðr as strong as Loki would not be able to resist such an alluring pearl of power.
He snapped his hips harder, groaning, closing his eyes as he imagined a hundred different fantasies he’d hidden over the millenia. Thor was weak, after all; he never had the steadiness of mind that was required for seiðr, for ruling for…
Anything.
The calm had left Loki’s face, his brows drawn up, lips parted. A wicked grin came over Thor’s face and he gave Loki a particularly brutal thrust, driving himself deep into his core before he stayed sheathed, grinding his hips in little circles against Loki’s backside.
A short exhale escaped Loki’s breast, barely noticeable, but Thor was certain he’d heard it.
He bit down onto his lip, grounding himself in the pain as he continued to circulate the very essence of the universe through his body, letting it expel into Loki. His sac drew up and Thor felt himself growing close, but he wasn’t ready, not yet! He screwed his eyes shut, focusing on the seiðr rather than the pleasure.
“Th-Thor…” Loki gasped softly, calling out to him so sweetly.
Thor snapped his eyes open and Loki was mumbling. His skin was turning blue, the ashen grey fading away, turning a deep, dark Jötunn blue that shown beautifully in the morning sun. He smiled, fucking into Loki even harder. The cock resting soft between Loki’s thighs began to stir and Thor felt tears prickling at his eyes.
It was working!
His restraint snapped and Thor fucked harder, feeling sweat drop down onto Loki with the force of his movements. An exhale was forced from Loki’s breast with each violent snap of Thor’s hips and he couldn’t be any happier.
Thor was not alone.
The blue faded from Loki’s skin along with the lines of his Jötunn heritage, the air returning to his breast. He gasped, he sputtered. Loki drew in his first deep, long breath.
“Th-Thor, what…” Loki gasped out, his green eyes bright with life.
Thor let his tears spill down his cheeks, uncaring of the mess he surely looked. He hovered over Loki, pressing their foreheads together, letting his hot tears fall onto Loki’s pale face.
A sigh, a moan escaped Loki’s lips. “Thor!” he cried out, starting to struggle as his strength returned. But they weren’t done, not yet. Not until…
Loki cried out, his hips shifting, his back arching in a violent surge as he spilled first, his seed cold, sputtering weakly from his half-hard cock.
Thor just groaned and gave himself over to his pleasure.
It was cruel, dragging Loki back this way, tying them together.
No doubt Loki knew the spell he was using, one that bound them for eternity.
A hand grabbed at Thor and he opened his eyes, forcing himself to look into the dazed green of Loki’s. A shuddering gasp left Loki’s breast and Thor spilled.
He collapsed upon Loki and a shaking hand found its way to his hair.
“Fool… What have you done…” Loki whispered, his voice raw. Tears stained Thor’s neck, where Loki’s face had been buried. “Wasn’t it enough that I got to see you at my end…?” Loki’s voice cracked.
Thor pulled back with a snarl. “You’ll never leave me again!”
Thunder echoed. The sun vanished. And Loki gave him a sad look. Because it was true.
It was not merely a resurrection spell Thor had used…
They shared a life now and wherever Thor went, Loki could only follow.
Loki let out a shuddering breath.
“You win, Thor… I’ll stay.” Loki turned his head away with a shaking breath and Thor growled.
Lightning struck overhead, Thor’s storm bearing down on them at full force.
The rain was cold as it washed the blood from their skin, but Loki didn’t try to get away. If tears slipped from Loki’s eyes, it was hidden in the rain.
And Thor would allow that. He’d allow his brother his pain, his moment to mourn his loss of freedom.
When red-rimmed bright green eyes looked at him, though, Thor lost his composure.
He would always be weak.
Thor crashed their mouths together, letting the rain run in rivers over their faces. A gasp escaped Loki, his mouth opening and Thor took the chance to deepen the kiss.
His storm faded and Loki finally pushed him away. He looked angry and weak, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
Loki was utterly enchanting, surrounded by death and dying flowers, the blood that clung to him contrasting his porcelain skin.
Thor grinned, giddy and stupid. “I don’t regret it, Loki.”
“I said I’d stay, didn’t I?” Loki’s voice was soft, distant, but then he held out his hand. “I didn’t think you’d come… Thank you.” His voice was impossibly light, like he’d fade away.
“I’d do anything for you, Loki.” Thor took his hand, pressing himself into Loki’s side.
“Yes, you would…” A flicker of a smile curved Loki’s lips before it disappeared. Thor didn’t care, he just took Loki into his arms, letting the sun warm them as they watched the sea, together.