For a singular moment as Thor staggered and fell, Loki felt fear. It was gone in a flash, replaced by intense anger at himself for such a momentary weakness. If his blade had found an even keener mark than intended and this culminated in Thor dead at his feet, then he should rejoice. This was what he wanted.

So why, then, did the victory toll in his chest sound hollow and ache so?

His jaw firmed as he stepped forwards and pressed the sole of one booted foot to the hilt of the dagger still protruding from Thor's ribs, only so he could push it in deeper as if to prove to himself that he was not so sentimentally weak.

"Please tell me you are going to beg, it would be so entertaining."