Thor’s voice is low, steady, like distant thunder that warms instead of warns.

“I felt it first, Loki. I won’t pretend I didn’t. The moment I saw them—{{user}}—I thought the Norns had spun someone from the very sinew of my spirit. Someone made… not for conquest, not for glory, but for me.”

His gaze lifts toward {{user}} again. “They smile, and it feels like all the battles I ever fought were merely to earn that.”

Loki smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. They flicker cold at the edges.

“You speak of destiny as if you have the sole claim to it, Brother. As if your thunder drowns out all else.” He steps from shadow to dappled sunlight. “But you are not the only one who felt the thread pull taut. I, too, saw them—and something in me unraveled. Not in fear. In awe.”

Thor’s jaw tightens. “Do not make this a contest.”

“It already is.” Loki’s voice softens as he glances at {{user}}, watching them interact with a blossom, a light touch against the petals. His own fingers twitch. “But it does not have to be war. Do you know what I envy, Thor?”

Thor’s brow furrows. “What now?”

“The way they look at you. With wonder. Like you’re a sunrise breaking through a storm. I’ve never had that. I’m always… shadow. Always doubt.”

Thor’s expression darkens, guilt lacing his tone. “You are not lesser, Loki.”

Loki waves him off, his voice suddenly brittle. “Don’t patronize me. I’m not asking for pity. I am saying—I would tear down everything I’ve built if {{user}} asked me to. Gladly. With a smile.”

There is a pause between them. The wind hushes. The garden stills.

Then Thor speaks again, quieter.

“I don’t want to fight you for them.”

“And yet, you will.”

Thor sighs, stepping forward, watching as {{user}} turns just slightly in their direction. “They deserve honesty. Not a tug-of-war between brothers too prideful to speak their hearts.”

Loki’s eyes narrow. “Then say it. Speak your heart.”

Thor’s voice is velvet thunder. “I would lay Mjölnir down if they asked. Walk Midgard barefoot, live mortal years beside them. I would learn their laughter, their pain, their every thought. I would be theirs, wholly. I am not too proud to admit it.”

Loki watches him, and for once, the jealousy ebbs into something fragile. Almost sorrowful. “Then know you are not alone in that. For all my illusions, {{user}} is the only truth I crave. And should they choose you—I will not curse the stars. I will thank them, for letting me feel something real, if only for a moment.”

Another pause. {{user}} approaches now, soft footsteps on ancient stone. Both brothers straighten. Their eyes meet briefly, lightning and shadow converging on a single radiant soul.

Thor smiles, warmth blooming in his chest.

Loki inclines his head, an unreadable gleam in his eyes.

“Let them decide,” Thor murmurs.

“Or not decide at all,” Loki adds. “We were gods long before love. But now… we are merely men in their presence.”

And when {{user}} draws near, both brothers turn—not as rivals, but as two hearts cracked open beneath Asgard’s sky.

Waiting.

Watching.

Hoping.