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Shooting stars

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Despite everything, Loki does not hate Baldr.

He is Baldr, after all. Loki loves Baldr, as does everyone. It is of course impossible not to. Baldr is Baldr is light and warmth is Baldr. They can no more not love Baldr than they can not love light and warmth.

You feel towards a the god of a thing what you feel towards that thing. (It explains so much and, at the same time, so little.)

Loki is Fire and can no more hate Baldr than he can stop being friends with Thor.

(Wether they are friends because they are Thor and Loki or because Thunder and Fire so often go hand in hand is another story. Maybe there is no ifference.)


But Loki could hate Baldr, if he wanted to. (He does not want to.)

Turn whatever part of him is light and warmth  (he is Fire, that's all of him) to rage or malice or mischief. He is already halfway there sometimes.

But then Loki thinks of a life spent in shadows, never enjoying the feel of the sunlight on his face.


That is not a life Loki would ever want.

Besides, sometimes he thinks he and Baldr have more in common than either of them would care to admit.

Of all the Aesir, there is no one else he could tell this to. Sigyn is his wife and he has already hurt her enough. Sif, ... he would never wish such a burden on her. He is friends with Thor for reasons he cannot comprehend and does not want to test this friend ship to destruction. And Odin, Loki hasn’t forgiven him for what the Allfather did to his his children.

As for the rest, those of them who spoke to him do so less ans less and those who never did are not about to start. That left Baldr as his only option.

"As I slept, I had a dream," Loki says.

To his credit, Baldr does not jump, "As have I, my friend. Sit with me and share your tale."

Loki sits next to Baldr, wills a wisp of flames at his fingertips setting it free with a flick of the hand.

"Showoff," Baldr murmurs.

Loki retorts, banter coming easily to his lips, "Let's see you do do better, then."

Baldr starts glowing, similing smugly. Loki shakes his head, his hair on fire.

"We'd best stop now, before we wake up everyone," Baldr says looking at the garden lit up like in broad day light.

"I suppose this means I won," says Loki.

"It does not!" Baldr pokes him in the ribs. "What of your dream?"

"I dreamt I set the world on fire," Loki says.

Baldr thinks a bit before saying, "Then it wasn't a dream. Thse things imply a pleasantness that seem devoid of your nightly vision."

"There was nothing pleasant about it," Loki lies. It’s silly to do so, Baldr always knows when Loki is lying, but it is a small comfort.

Loki isn't lying to Baldr, though, so Baldr does not begrudge him this small comfort.

"I had a dream such as yours a long time ago," Baldr says. "I saw us sitting like this, on this bench, blazing like falling stars. And then I saw the world tearing itself apart." Baldr takes a deep breath, "Tomorrow is the day I die."

Loki startles at that, "Are you sure?" There is something like regret in his voice.

"As well you know, I have the gift of prophecy," Baldr replies.

"I won't let it happen! You're my friend - it's not too late - I -," Loki shouts.

Baldr lays a hand on his hand, stopping him from getting up, "Loki. What must be, must be. I made my piece with that a long ago. Maybe it's time you made yours."

"You know," Loki whispers, "you know who I must be. Who I will be. Who I already am."

"Yes," Baldr says, looking dissapointed, "I know what you did. I know you're wrong and that it's too late. I also know this: You are Loki, and you've been my friend since I was a child. I know that despite everything, you will mourn me. They will blame you for what is to come. They may even be right. But know this: I do not blame you. I understand. And, ultimately, I forgive you.”

A long silence follows Baldr's words.

"You're a dick," Loki finally says.

Baldr replies, "And you're Loki. I loke to think I got the better bargain."