“I see you at least have the decency to put your weapon away. I suppose you have had time to change as well. So tell me, oh golden heir of Asgard, how have you fared since that fateful day I fell from the bridge? I am sure your grief was just too great. That is, if you grieved at all.”
Loki makes his way to where Thor stands and stops mere inches from him. Thor’s power radiated from him, and Loki could feel the electricity sparking his skin.
“Well, you certainly look the part of king now, at least.” He looks into the blue orbs that stare back at him. “How is father? Mother? Have they all but moved on as well?”
“I searched for you Loki, before I was forced to turn back. You fell so far, past the sight of even Heimdall…”
Loki’s subtle coolness crept over Thor’s skin as he approached. It was such a familiar sensation, yet one made strange by years of absence. Loki seems almost alien now, all darkness and hard, thin lines that had replaced the shining prince of Thor’s fondest memories.
He starts at mentions of their parents. Thor sighs, “Father is… much the same as he was. Mother… Mother refuses to wear anything but black since you fell. She still mourns, I still-” He stops himself. Thor is never good at dealing with these. He is a man of action, and heavy emotions are best left in a training ring or on the field of battle. “I have missed you, my brother.”