What I Can’t Say

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Summary: The letter Loki would never be able to send
Notes & Warnings: Some references to violence

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Brother

If I could bring myself to send you this letter, I am sure I could guess at what your reaction would be if you could bring yourself to read past the form of address. After all, it is not as if you have any other brothers. And certainly not any as troublesome to you as I have been.

If I could speak to you, to say anything other than the barbs I hide behind when you do visit, I would respond to your reminders of the simpler times, when we were still children. You have tried to convince me that my true heritage means nothing to you. That, to you, we are still brothers. We have fought alongside each other. I trusted you at my back and I know you did the same. I call you a sentimental fool to your face, but when you are gone, I want nothing more than to call you back. Not just because I am lonely, but because I miss you, Thor.

Out of the two of us, it was always said I was the one who was more eloquent. I have such a way with words, but it has also been said I am the father of lies. Of course, the Midgardians, the humans, have got a lot wrong about us. Even in my short time there, I was able to discover some of the many legends they have written about us. At the times I wasn’t tormented by my experiences, I could not help but see the humour in the many things they have got wrong.

Even if I could speak to you, I would not make excuses for my actions. I would tell you how I allowed fear to rule me after I fell when we fought. Fear of pain, fear of abandonment. I allowed the fear to turn into anger and I turned that anger onto the one person who has never harmed me. Even when I threatened your friends and killed the humans you protect, you never gave me the death I deserved. While it is true you placed a muzzle on me, to halt my ‘silver tongue’, I could sense how much it hurt you to do that. I did not fight you because I knew how much you had been hurt by what I had done to you already.

You and Mother are the only ones who will visit me. Mother sends her simulacrum into my cell. You stand outside while I at turns ignore you or insult you. I do not blame you for eventually giving up and leaving me alone once more. Every time you come, I expect it to be the last time. And the next time you come to me, I can’t bring myself to show how relieved I am that you have not abandoned me. But I cannot give voice to that. I cannot tell you how I feel out loud, only in this letter I will never allow you to read.

When I am alone, I cannot help but remember before. Before you were banished. Before I found out I was a monster. And even you cannot try to claim I am not one. After all, only a monster would take the amount of lives I have. Only a monster would stab the man who still called him brother, even after everything I have done.

If I could speak to you, I would tell you how many regrets I have. I would tell you it doesn’t matter how long I will be imprisoned for if I know you will continue to visit me. If I still have you and Mother, it wouldn’t matter if no one else could ever forgive me.

I know I cannot be allowed out of my cell and I do not expect you to come in to see me. But if you were willing to, and if I could bring myself to send you this letter, I would ask you to respond to me as my brother. You acted to curtail my mischief when we were younger, when it got out of hand. Not often, but you took me to task enough times that I knew what to expect if my pranks and tricks got out of hand and became dangerous. I fought and protested most times you took me over your knee, but by the time you were finished, even though I was sore, I felt better inside. It did not hurt when you comforted me afterwards, either.

If I had the courage you wield in spades, brother, I would ask you to make me answer for my actions, for how I hurt you and the people you care about. But I cannot. Not because I fear you will refuse, but because I fear your mercy.

I wish things could be different.

Loki