Summary: Follow-up to "Wings of Asgard". Loki is seen with his helmet for the first time, and Thor is impressed. Rated for violence.
AN: It's not necessary at all to read my previous piece, "Wings of Asgard," before this one. That was just a sort of fluffy set-up. This, I think, is slightly more substantial. I would GREATLY appreciate feedback on my action sequences. I have little confidence in them :)
Also, I have no idea what kind of battles Asgardians might have fought during the time before the movie, when they have a truce with Jotunheim. So these enemies are anonymous plot devices.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and headgear belong to Marvel.
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Thor and Hogun were separated from Volstagg and Sif by over two dozen enemies. They had not seen Fandral since being cut off from the battlefield, but Thor didn't have time or attention to waste fearing for his friend's life. A good warrior knows only his objective.
Thor swung a heavy battleaxe in one hand and a shortsword in the other, but most of his energy was spent blocking attacks from all sides. Finally, he was able to sweep the legs of one enemy, allowing him time to spin and easily remove the next-nearest foe's arm before stabbing him in the throat. A loud guttural yell grabbed his attention and he jerked around in time to see Hogun lose hold of his spear (which, to his credit, currently protruded from an enemy's sternum) and stagger to one knee. The man Thor had dropped to the ground bared his teeth proudly, gripping the dagger sunk deep into Hogun's calf. Thor removed that grin with his axe, but paid for the distraction with a blade's swipe through his outer thigh.
Things began to feel desperate, a feeling with which Thor and his companions were not accustomed. Hogun was on his feet again, but dangerously unsteady. He and Thor stood back-to-back, though this positioning greatly hindered their offensive effort. They forgot entirely about Sif and Volstagg in the swarm.
Suddenly, Thor's eyes stung in a flash of light, and a second later two bodies lay smoldering before him. Stunned, he looked around wildly. The bodies were quickly replaced by two living men; Thor felt a jab between his greaves and chestplate, and cursed his own inattention before beheading the offender.
Thor was momentarily blinded again. Next he knew, his eyes were level with smoke wafting from another body. Hm. How did I end up on my knees? He looked down dumbly and noticed the knife in his stomach. Then his eyes swept the surrounding area. Hogun was feebly blocking vicious blows. This sight coupled with fading pain in his gut made Thor see red. In a rage, he yanked the knife from his belly and chucked it into the eye socket of his nearest foe.
There was no warning for the events that followed. Two men standing over them roared, but then went rigid and collapsed, the air around them crackling with electricity. Thor could only gape in shock as a third, much larger combatant began to shudder erratically, blood bubbling from every orifice, as though boiling from the inside out. He fell heavily, and Thor's view across the small meadow was cleared.
In the middle of the field stood a splendid, caped warrior Thor had never seen before. The man swung a glaive taller than his own body with swift violence and steady grace. Atop his head, an immense golden helm with cruel, hooked horns glowed in the light of his magic. The small enemy horde swarmed to this newcomer, the obviously greater threat.
It was soon clear that this move was unwise.
With a shout and a smirk, the demonic stranger plunged into the crowd. The way he moved was captivating—a seminar in both weapons combat and sorcery; beautiful and awful, precise and terrifying. In his eyes shone a fearsome and pitiless hunger. Greedily, he carved through his foes with startling vehemence, and brandished ferocious spells that incapacitated enemies in increasingly sickening ways. He was at once masterful and merciless.
The clang of metal on metal brought Thor's attention back to his own predicament. Hogun collapsed next to him, but continued to swipe his staff at surrounding foes. Bellowing, Thor sprang to his feet and devastated those that still threatened his companion. Then he turned to the center of the action and cleaved through a poor soul with a bow and empty quiver. The last enemy soldier burst into flames before his eyes, and suddenly Thor was face-to-face with the unknown sorcerer.
The warriors stared each other down, each face hardened for bloodshed, each glare yearning to inflict pain. Several seconds passed this way until their eyes locked, and Thor's jaw dropped.
Before him, Loki straightened and pulled his glaive back to his side, relaxing despite labored breath. In his eyes lingered something feral, while the ghost of a chilling smile slowly left his lips. His expression softened, brimming with concern as he looked upon Thor, who then realized just how ragged he and his comrades must have appeared.
Volstagg leaned heavily on his massive double-bearded axe, panting and wiping his brow. Sif removed her gauntlets and gently pulled her blood-and-sweat-soaked hair out of her face. Then she knelt to help Hogun examine his wounded leg. Thor's stomach and thigh both throbbed. He didn't particularly want Loki to see in him any weakness, but was forced to reach down unsteadily and lay his own battleaxe on the ground when it felt too heavy. He straightened stiffly and flashed his brother a tired smile.
"Where…how did you find us? Where did you come from?" Thor asked, confused and breathless.
"I came with reinforcements," he trailed off, smirking. "I suppose your scout troupe wasn't enough, after all?"
Thor waved away this observation and changed the subject. "I've …never seen you fight like that."
Loki scoffed, not unkindly. "Can't recognize your own brother? Why am I not surprised?"
"A good warrior knows only his objective," Thor recited one of his favorite wartime philosophies. He claimed it as his own, and Loki had no reason not to believe so, considering all the time Thor did not spend in any library.
Loki fixed a thoughtful stare on his brother. "But a great warrior is always strategizing. And for that matter, always adjusting according to circumstance."
Thor tried to consider this, but his weary mind hadn't fully absorbed all of his brother's words, so he simply smiled and replied, "soon, then, I will be a great warrior."
The younger Odinson smiled sincerely. "I agree." Then he glanced about, businesslike. "You must see healers. Two accompanied us, we can—"
"I can make it back to Asgard," Thor interrupted firmly. He looked over his shoulder. Hogun nodded agreement, leaning on his staff like a cane. Sif looked up at Loki, but hesitated. Volstagg asked for her, "Have you heard or seen anything of Fandral?"
"He is the one who directed me here!" Loki replied with some surprise. On his friends' faces, Thor witnessed the delight that he also felt at this news.
Then he looked again at his brother, taking in the impressive armor and the grand horns but also, now, the spattered blood, torn cape, and weary stance—for though he hid it well, he was clearly using the immense staff for reinforcement. They made eye contact, and Loki smiled slightly, sheepishly, and Thor was struck by how young he looked. Whatever ferocity had corrupted his features before was now all innocence. Overcome with relief and gratitude, Thor swept his brother into a tight embrace.
They stood together this way for minutes while their companions looked on warmly and respectfully. Thor finally pulled away, patted his brother's arm, and announced loudly, "Now! We must return to Asgard, and report my victory!" And he strode off, leaving the rest to roll their eyes.
Loki caught up to his brother and assumed the same pace. Thor looked up at his new headgear and frowned, feeling put out. "It's bigger than mine."
"Is that what the women say?" Loki asked lightly.
"…What?"
"Nothing," Loki replied quickly, his eyes twinkling. Behind them, Hogun coughed. Loki went on briskly,"Same amount of metal was used. The smith politely but—ah—firmly informed me." More than once.
"Hmm," Thor considered the ensemble with great care. Then he said decisively, "I prefer red. But it's a good look."