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The youngest prince felt so tremendously unwell. He’d been laid up in bed all day. Rather, he’d made it out of bed briefly just to be sent back after his breakfast made a reappearance at the dining table, much to his mortification. He had been ordered to stay in bed on his mother’s insistence and he hadn’t found it in him to resist, strength nor will.
Usually, a sick day was a day of leisure, a chance to study his scrolls as he wished whilst being waited on (not that it was very different from any other day really, but at least he wasn’t expected to put robes on). But this was very much not one of those days. He hated days like this, where his vision was too blurry to even enjoy a day of reading in bed. Where he couldn’t sit up without aid and where he let a deep, bone aching chill take hold deep in his core, shooting icy pain down his limbs and up his neck. Poor Loki wasn’t unused to days like this, but that never made them anymore pleasant.
Despite the agony in his skull, and the burning in his chest and throat, the teen found that he must’ve dozed off. He blinked, trying to keep his eyes open for a substantial amount of time, at least enough for him to gather his bearings. He’d barely managed to hiss at the midday suns before he saw a muscular arm lean across him to draw the curtain; saving his eyes from the violent sting.
“Hello there.” Came a cooing tone, accompanied immediately by a cup being pressed against his lips. “Thought you were never going to wake up. Drink up.”
“Easy Nessie, let’s not drown him.” Rumbled a warm, abrasive yet soothing voice. Thor had sat, taking his usual perch beside his brother all day, not straying from his side even for a moment. It was a frequent joke in their household that these were one of the very few times Thor ever stayed in one place; one tutor had jokingly begged Loki to feign illness just to keep Thor from bouncing from seat to seat in their otherwise empty classroom. His raven haired counterpart hadn’t understood the true need even at a young age, didn’t their elders realise by now that Thor wouldn’t retain any information unless he was in perpetual motion? That’s why his appraisals had started to decline as soon as his physical studies began to increase; and why to force his brother through their many subject exams Loki sat for hours, his arse going numb, shouting out questions from their syllabus whilst Thor attacked dummy, after dummy in their training area? Loki certainly hadn’t done all of that for fun..though, he supposed distantly, that sitting by his brother's bedside whilst he stank of sweat and vomit was not a particularly enjoyable task for Thor either. But he did it without ever once uttering a complaint.
Loki didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Thor had confiscated the bowl from the elder woman. His brother placed the cup beside him as gently as his fumbling hands woke allow if the clatter were any indication. All the while their old nursemaid muttered to herself about having fed them as babies and neither of them having any complaints then. Thor ignored her, with a fond smile and an eye roll in her direction that Loki couldn’t see, so much as feel. He placed a palm on Loki’s forehead, his hand was comfortingly warm. “How’re you feeling, Kit?”
Loki tried to answer but despite himself his mouth wouldn’t cooperate. In way of response he managed to press his forehead into his brother's hand, asking for him to press down harder because his skin combined with the heavy pressure felt soothing to Loki’s pounding skull. On days like this he’d cried out before that he wanted his brother to squeeze his head like a vice and after hours of hearing him cry Thor had almost relented on a few occasions.
“You’re burning up still.” Thor muttered now to himself, removing his hand in favour of a cool rag he placed on his forehead instead. Despite griping at their old nanny before, he too was now pressing a cup to his brother's lips, albeit far more gently. “Drink, Ki, you’re dehydrated. That won’t help matters.”
Loki tried to let out a moan in protest as he felt his stomach swelling with the volume of liquid being forced upon him. He felt drowsy and wanted nothing more than to sleep but he was in not position to turn his head away. Thankfully Thor was well versed in this and stopped before he started to feel sick, only feeding his brother in slow mouthfuls. The dark haired lad groaned as a blanket was torn from his grasp, leaving him with nothing but a sheet covering his shivering form. Why he was subjected to such cruelty he never knew- had he not been through enough fevers for them all to know they would pass on their own? Hel, if he were to die so be it but at least let him die with some warmth left in him!
Despite these anguished thoughts, that he was sure he was able to convey through his facial expressions alone, he went unheeded. He wasn’t able to protest much before the heavy weight of sleep overtook him again.
He remained unaware as more time passed but when he awoke next Loki was able to open his eyes without the twin suns attempting to blind him. He wished it had been his body waking him after it had fully recovered, letting him rise feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Nay, it was, as always, his poxy bladder pounding below his navel.
The prince squeezed his legs together, grateful that he’d been given the kindness of a more substantial blanket whilst he slumbered. Under the thick wool cover he could writhe without feeling too self conscious of the action, knowing it was at least somewhat obscured. His eyes were adjusting and his senses dulled, he couldn’t be sure if someone were in the room with him to bare witness to his squirms.
Gods, he needed to get up and use the pot tucked beneath his bed but he hadn’t the strength in his arms to pull himself up. He certainly couldn’t rely on those in his abdomen in his current state. His core strength was an area he was rather proud of but nay, the clear lines of muscle he’d managed to develop in recent years had done nothing to support his weakest organ; it was reminding him incessantly of his neglect. Before he fell asleep when he’d been given the bowls of broth and water he’d been propped up by several pillows- but now some helpful bastard must’ve thought he’d be more comfortable fully reclined. If he was going to make it to his and Thor’s shared bathroom he needed help up and quickly.
Then Loki noticed his room was absent of another presence. On the days where his brother didn’t feel the need to ruin his own day by babysitting, which were exceedingly rare, they usually left a nurse in his wake but no one was there. That was frightfully unusual.
“Thor?” Loki's voice croaked barely audible. Fuck. He swallowed dryly and coughed trying to moisten his stinging throat. “Hello?”
It was then that Loki heard a great thunderous crashing and raised voices emanating from outside.
There had been an accident in the main hall and several of the kitchen staff had been burned. Though it would’ve have been structurally catastrophic in most circumstances, they had managed to quell the flames through use of their various physical gifts- but it had been all hands on deck; especially the heads of the household who felt it their duty first and foremost to keep those under their roof safe, no matter their status. Thankfully, no one was gravely injured thanks to their valiant efforts. What could be heard now was the tail end of the debris being cleared and the worse off workers being ferried on stretchers to the medical wing.
Though Loki was not to know that. With the main courtyard laying far beneath the prince’s window, all he heard was crashing and all he could smell were tendrils of smoke creeping through the small window someone had left propped open. His hands flexed reflexively trying to conjure some of his power to attend to what was clearly an emergency, but all that succeeded in doing was sending a jolt of icy pain down his back and through his limbs. That certainly didn’t lessen the now burning pain in his gut but his need now wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. He strained to listen, just as he strained to try and get out of his cursed bed. Only one sound was clear as the shouting voices began to recede; all he could hear was his brother’s gaffawing over the top of the sounds of chaos. As relieving as that should’ve been it wasn’t. That didn’t mean they weren’t in battle, if anything it was a bad sign but the smoke was clearing before it had even begun to build, no longer dancing through his window.
Loki attempted again to sit up but all he did was cause himself to moan as his bladder contracted painfully. This was bad, he had to get up now. He barely succeeded in rolling to his side before another painful wave hit and a spurt of urine left him. The shock of his release undid his progress as he was forced to roll onto his back so he had access to grab himself and stem the flow.
He couldn’t do it. Gods he could never do it, he always had to wee so badly when he awoke- even more so when he was unwell. Fuck, why had no one come for him yet?! Why had they even left him without guard in this state in the first place?!
In his distress he felt another spurt slip past his resolve, this time longer and Loki was teased with the release of pressure just that small loss of control held. This was unjust, how could they just leave him here. Had no one thought about how much fluid had been forced down his throat and the inevitability that it would need to come out at some point?!
He gripped himself as best he could but he could feel his light cotton underclothes had already become saturated. This realisation struck him again as his flow restarted, a light hissing sound resounding as his urine hit the wet cloth. His eyes began to water, filling with a familiar prickly heat. He didn’t want to admit defeat, not to his stupid fucking body. Had he not suffered enough today already without disgracing himself further?
He knew it was futile. He could feel the never ending flow start to run down his backside, across the top of his thighs and onto his sheets. Part of his brain said fuck it, he was already coated in sweat, the bed would need to be changed. He’d wet enough already for everyone to know very well what he’d done the second his blankets were peeled back. They were the ones who left him here, defenseless, let them clean his piss. Despite the spiteful thought trying to stir his own ire he couldn’t help the sob that escaped at that conjured image. The idea of his father coming in to see what he had done, the disappointment plain on his face, such a familiar look-
“Shit.” Loki cried out to himself in a broken whisper to the empty room. There was no holding it anymore. Torturing himself emotionally had done nothing to stop what he already started without his permission. The stream picked up, splattering loudly as his muscles involuntarily relaxed. He cringed at the gross feeling of it hitting his thighs before pooling between his legs, the wet heat spreading as it reached the back of his knees. Arcing out of him as he pushed to get the ordeal over with, he felt it finally soak through to his top sheet, where his hands lay still hovering over his privates from his fruitless attempts to avoid pissing himself yet again.
It was over much quicker than Loki felt it should’ve been and somehow that made it all the more humiliating. He allowed himself to wallow in the solace of his quiet room for a while as the bed grew cold around him. What did it matter if he cried- he was alone anyway! Who was there to bear witness whilst he further shamed himself?! He couldn’t help but shudder violently, the wet clinging to his skin doing nothing to ease the chill that has already been plaguing him.
He’d barely stopped crying when he heard the telltale clatter of heavy boots down their shared hallway.
“Brother! You’re awake!” Thor exclaimed as he barreled in, the door banging obnoxiously where he shouldered his way through it. Loki was always shouting at him for doing that, Thor refusing to use the fucking handles had already led to his door being replaced countless times. Even this one, replaced fairly recently, was already bowing in its frame, littered in dents from the oaf’s various excited outbursts. However, in fairness he had good reason this time.
The blond filled the doorway and held up his heavily bandaged hands, grin plastered his soot streaked face. Thor puffed his cheeks to blow a stray hair that landed on his forehead. Despite being covered in ash his eyes sparkled that way they always did when he’d encountered something ridiculously dangerous. “You missed a lot of excitement!”
“What happened to you?” Loki asked, eyes wide, his own predicament momentarily forgotten when he took in his brother’s visage. He knew his voice sounded pathetic, still barely audible but what did come out was watery and gave away right away that something was worse than usual. He didn’t even have the luxury of pretending for a short while, especially not in front of his closest person.
Even in his adrenaline induced haze the elder brother's gaze immediately sharpened. Thor’s face dropped. “Are you well?”
“I think we’ve established no.” Loki meant to barb but it fell flat and his voice betrayed him, losing all its sharpness.
“Brother what’s wrong?” Thor hurried further into the room. He didn’t have to be much closer to see the tea plate sized stain situated over his brother's lap. When he looked back to Loki’s face it was scrunched in that familiar way when Thor knew he was teetering on tears. It didn’t help that he let out an audible sign of relief. “Oh, come now, don’t get yourself upset about that.”
This flippancy only made him want to cry harder. How could he say such things? Yes he knew it was routine by now, how pathetically often this occurred- but why could Thor not understand it got worse each time it happened not better!
The blond moved forward, already tugging at the emerald top blanket. “Here, let’s sit you forward, I can slip the sheets out from under you-“
“No!” Loki cried out, summoning enough strength to push against his brother’s shoulders. The action alone made him breathless and they both knew even at full strength Thor would’ve remained immovable. Why else did people think he resorted to stabbing him when they got into their..little spats? The bastard was twice the size of him- Loki had to use other means of force at his disposal! And if those means happened to be sharp and occasionally dipped in poison well that was his initiative.
“Well you can’t sit there in wet combinations Loki, can you? That won’t help your sickness and frankly you stink.”
Loki grit his teeth at the comment. As much as he wanted to strike him he had more urgent matters on his mind. He stared down trying to convey his thoughts with a look alone as his brother held firm on the sheets in his grasp. “You can’t. Your hands, Thor.”
“Oh.” The young god of thunder sat back on his heels for a moment and stared at them. Then shrugged. “Nessie can change the bandages if they get wet.”
“You’ll get an infection.” Loki hissed at the imbecile. Almost to punctuate his point he began coughing aggressively again and to his embarrassment felt more urine slip from him. He’d thought he was empty but evidently his weak bladder didn’t care.
Thor intended to argue further but could see he was only stressing his frail brother more and he didn’t want to bring about a further attack. And he couldn’t say that he didn’t have a fair point. It wasn’t often Thor was left with wounds bad enough to stay visible, let alone require attention post battle. That’s what made it all the more exciting! “If not me, brother, who do you want to help?”
Loki’s gaze turned scornful, such a familiar harsh look on such delicate features. Thor always had to stifle a giggle at the juxtaposition. How anyone flinched at Loki’s infamous looks Thor didn’t know- and he had been on the receiving end of what those looks meant. It didn’t matter how many times he maimed him, he remained adorable.
Loki was in no state to promise such violence, just as he was in no state to sit up unaided. “No one. I’ll do it.”
“Ah yes, the same way you were able to get up or use the pot. Or clean yourself before I got in here.” Thor replied calmly, rolling eyes at his junior’s stubbornness. He had no idea where he got it from. “Who do you want?”
Realising his brother had just acknowledged the possibility that he hadn’t just lost control whilst unconscious, Loki justified himself by staring angrily at the wall, wishing he had the strength in his arms to cross them over his chest. He’d wasted it all trying to stop Thor from hurting himself further. “I just want to die.”
“My gods, you are so dramatic.” Thor huffed. He refrained from passing comment on the fact that several people almost did and that’s why his own hands were fucked in the first place. Loki truly could be so thoughtless at times. “Loki, if you don’t hurry up and select a servant I’ll call father in here.”
“You wouldn’t.” Loki stiffened. That was a low blow threat and his brother knew it. When Thor remained silent his eyes slid from the wall, meeting his brother’s electric blues. Honest mischief danced through them. He would. “Connie.”
Thor beamed, the playful fire died in his eyes. “Connie it is.”
Before Thor could even reach the doorway Loki called out in a panicked voice. “W-wait-“
“Kit, come now, why must you prolong the inevitable-“
“I think I need to-“
Thor wrinkled his nose. “What? Please don’t tell me you’re going to be sick again, your aim is terrible.”
“No, Thor.” Loki inflected with the whiny urgency all little brothers possess in a time of need.
“Oh.” Thor said, finally realising what he meant. “Well that aim isn’t much better-“
“Thor please!”
“Yes, yes I’m coming, just hold on. I’m surprised you have any more in you, that’s a big puddle for you Kit-“
“Don’t comment on the size of my- just shut up!” Loki attempted to screech but his voice shattered towards the end in a painful sounding crackle.
Thor remained moving with calm, deliberate movements. He wasn’t trying to tease his brother by moving slowly, he just wanted to avoid dropping the metal pot against the polished stone. His poultice soaked wrappings were very slippy- not to mention his hands were rather beginning to sting- and he knew the loud clang would upset Loki’s senses should he allow the bowl to fall from his grasp. “Will you relax? You’re going to lose your voice again.”
“I wish you’d lose yours.” Loki muttered spitefully as he attempted to peel back his nightclothes.
Thor allowed a small huff through his nose. “Well, that’s just unkind isn’t it?”
“Sorry..” Loki said with a sincerity Thor wasn’t used to hearing from the smaller boy.
“Now I know you really are unwell. As if the display of various bodily fluids hadn’t told me that already.” Thor said lightly. He knew better than to take any of it to heart. Instead he focused on the task at hand, lifting the rest of the wet layers away from his brother's skin so that he could situate the pot where it needed to be. Despite Loki’s unhelpful wiggling making it even harder, he managed to accomplish the task. “Come now, the pots in place, you can-“ Thor smiled as his words of encouragement were cut short by the sound of tinkling against the metal. “-go.”
Loki let himself groan unabashedly in relief, Thor’s presence not bothering him in the slightest. He was able to finish out his wet quickly as his bladder hadn’t been so much full, merely tired from its earlier strain. Even so, he was left with a profound relief and, amusingly, a lessened headache. “Brother, please don’t let Nessie feed me so much broth next time.”
Thor gave out a proper laugh then. “Have you ever tried to tell that woman anything? She’d argue the colour of the sky.”
Loki merely scoffed as his brother was almost certainly describing himself also. He was pretty sure the two had that very argument before, likely when Thor was trying to bide time and get out of fulfilling one of his less stimulating duties.
Thor stepped out into their joint bathroom briefly to empty the chamber pot, and he returned with a bowl of warm soapy water and a stack of clean washcloths.
He wasn’t expecting to be greeted by the sight of Loki looking so utterly sheepish.
“What is it?” Thor asked, his voice laced with concern. Most people probably couldn’t hear the shift in tone because it was almost identical to his usual, harsh booming. But Loki lowered his head further at the shift.
“I’m..I’m sorry, Thor.”
“Why? What’ve you done?” The blond looked around, possibly for the hex he felt was about to hit him because that certainly wasn’t unheard of, even in his brother's weakened state. What he’d done to deserve it this time he couldn’t say but the smaller one was renowned for his ability to hold a grudge. Thor knew better than to think he wouldn’t strike at any time.
“For..” Loki’s voice trailed off, Thor followed his eyes to the pile of sodden sheets that lay at the boy’s knees.
“Why would you apologise for that?” Thor asked, genuinely confused now. He seemed interested in an answer but quickly shook his head, deciding he wasn’t going to entertain further discussion on the matter. “Kit, enough silly talk. You’re unwell, it wasn’t on purpose, that’s the last I’ll hear of it, okay?”
“Right.” Loki quietly conceded, wanting the conversation to be over with.
“But I’m not getting Connie. So let me help you and we can both be done with it.”
“Why?!” Loki asked, the betrayal in his tone was palpable.
“She’s helping downstairs.”
“So?!” If Thor had known this why had he bothered asking him?!
“Don’t be selfish, Ki. There’s lots of people to attend to.” Thor reprimanded. He knew his brother was comfortable with the healer more than his other staff as he had seen her so often for his various ailments; but she was needed elsewhere right now.
Loki let out a growl. He wasn’t trying to be selfish- he was trying to be the opposite! “But your hands-“
“Will heal. I’ll get them bandaged once you’re settled.” His bandages had already been soaked since he helped pull the sheets back for Loki to relieve himself, but his brother didn’t need to know that. He was clearly already feeling sore and Thor just wanted to get him changed and comfortable so he could move on from his accident. As he set about wiping Loki up, quickly and efficiently with practised precision (despite the blistering pain underneath his coverings), he continued talking so his brother wouldn’t feel ashamed in the silence. “Besides my hands have been covered in urine plenty of times and I’ve never died yet.”
“Gross, you’re meant to wash them after you visit the privy Thor.”
“Who said I was talking about my own urine?”
“Who’s?” Loki said automatically before he could stop himself. He cringed just hoping Thor would take pity and not use the opportunity to point out that he was often the culprit with how many times his brother had to help him. He wasn’t sure he could handle that teasing right now.
“Aye, you’ll understand when you’re older.” Thor said suggestively, purely trying to get a rise.
Loki scowled at the insinuation, let alone the fact that their age gap was practically insignificant in god years. “That’s definitely not how it works.”
“You can explain how things work to me once you’re back to being able to use the pot on your own like a big prince.” Thor grinned a shit eating grin at his brother and patted his leg, relishing in the indignant whine he received. He made quick work of changing Loki’s nightshirt before hoisting him over his shoulder. “Right, all dry. I’m going to put you in my bed so you can rest.”
“No Thor, you need your bed.” Loki pouted sadly. Perhaps he was overtired but he was starting to feel ever so guilty for the way he constantly disturbed his brother’s peace. There was also the not unfounded concern that he’d have another incident occur as the fluids continued to work their way out of his system. He knew Thor wouldn’t get cross with him but he really didn’t want to repay him by defiling his bed the same way he already had his bandages.
He knew typically they could share the bed, but Thor wouldn’t, not when Loki was so ill in case he needed to get up frequently and he knew his snoring would disturb him. Well. More than it usually did through the wall splitting their respective rooms.
“By the time I have my hands rewrapped the sheets will have been dealt with. This is time efficient really. We can swap back tomorrow.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Loki asked, a worried frown still pinching his features.
“Of course not.” Thor said gently as he lowered his brother into his own bed with the utmost care. Brushing Loki’s hair back he placed a kiss on the younger’s forehead before drawing back to whisper. “Besides, I’ve been saving up my farts all day, no amount of your magic will ever get the smell out.”
Before Loki could scream in protest his brother had already sprinted from the room, cackling wildly.
“Ugh!” Easily replacing any warm feeling he had been experiencing with instant fury, Loki found himself screaming after his brother as much as his sore throat would allow. “Thor! Don’t you even dare! Thor! Thor!”