This story is dedicated to SunnyZim, without whom the inspiration for it would never have existed.
(The beings known as Svartalfar shall, in this story, be interpreted as dark elves, rather than dwarves.)
LLLL
Two Little Boys
Two little boys
Had two little toys
Each had a wooden horse.
Gaily they played
Each summer's day
Warriors both, of course.
One little chap
Had a mishap
Broke off his horse's head
Wept for his toy
Then cried with joy
As his young playmate said…
LTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL
Loki let out a wild shriek as he whizzed down the marble hallway, leaning back in the saddle of his wooden horse. The wheels on the horse's hooves rumbled as they spun with blinding speed. Loki leaned forward and kicked off the white floor again with both feet, increasing his momentum as he flashed through the sunlight that poured through a window.
"You'll never catch meeeeeeeeee!" Thor, Loki's slightly older, larger brother, crowed from far ahead, his golden hair caught in the light of another window. Thor had his own toy horse, a white one, that also had wheels. And because he was heavier than Loki, he could work his horse up to break-neck speed.
"Yes I wiiiiiiiiilll!" Loki shouted, grimacing in frustration as he kicked harder. The two boys raced down the gradually-curving hallway, the wind whipping their hair and clothes. Loki gritted his teeth as he kicked three more times. He knew there was a steeper part coming up, and if he did this just right, he could easily come up neck-and-neck with Thor…
They rounded the corner. Here it was…
Loki kicked once more, very hard, then lifted his feet up, leaned down and pressed himself tight to his horse. His speed instantly doubled.
Within seconds, he flew right up next to Thor. Thor's blonde head whipped around, and he stared at Loki.
"Hey!" he cried indignantly over the roar of the wheels, kicking frantically against the floor. "You're cheating!"
"I am not!" Loki retorted, staying tight. Thor gave him a fierce, angry look.
"You are!" he insisted. "No magic!"
"I'm not using magic!" Loki cried. "I'm—"
Thor's head came around—he saw something in front of him. His eyes went wide.
"Look out!" he yelped, and slammed his heels down onto the floor.
Loki's gaze whipped around—
To see a row of large, stone flower pots blocking their exit to the courtyard that hadn't been there before.
Loki slammed his heels down too.
The leather of his shoes screamed on the marble.
But his foot caught in the back wheel.
The horse tangled him up. He pitched to the left—
And slammed down onto the top step of a staircase.
Thunderous rattling, banging and crashing drowned him as he clattered down the dozen stone stairs, his horse bashing his head and chest, splinters flying. His vision swam and blurred. Pain snapped through every limb.
He thudded onto the lower landing, the back of his skull hitting the floor with a crack. His eyes went dark. He couldn't breathe. For a moment, everything spun in shadow, completely silent.
Then, he began to feel someone shaking him—shaking his shoulders. A distant, slurred voice echoed through his head.
He sucked in a breath.
It hurt. A lot.
He sucked in another one—then began to gasp in short, rapid bursts, as pain darted around inside his chest and panic rose in his throat. He forced his eyes open, but they wouldn't focus.
"Loki?" the voice sharpened—enough so he could understand his name. "Loki? Loki?"
He blinked hard—
And finally could see Thor bending over him, felt him grabbing his shoulders, his bright blue eyes wide, his freckled face pale, his hair hanging wild. Thor blinked.
"Are you all right?" he demanded.
Loki dragged himself into a sitting position—but everything throbbed and hurt. His back, his head, his arms, his chest, his legs…
And then he saw his new horse, broken in several pieces beside him, splinters and bits lying everywhere.
He choked in his throat, and tears welled up in his eyes and spilled. He shakily scrabbled for Thor, grabbed him and pressed his face into his brother's scarlet-clad chest and let out a wail. Thor clumsily wrapped him up in his arms and patted him on the head.
"It's all right," Thor said, pulling him tighter. "It's all right. You're all right."
Loki could tell, though, that it was not all right. Thor was shaking as badly as he was.
But then, Thor took a deep breath. He was very strong—a lot stronger than Loki—and he suddenly clenched his little brother to him so tight that neither of them could shake.
Loki's breathing steadied. His sobbing calmed, and his tears trailed down his face instead of streaming. He relaxed his death grip on Thor's tunic, and finally could pull back away from him. Thor let him go.
"I…I broke my horse!" Loki shuddered, wiping his eyes with the back of his black sleeves, his lower lip trembling.
Thor sat back and glanced over at the shattered toy, the pieces of which littered the stones.
"Yeah," he sighed, frowning at it. "You fell hard."
A new swell of tears threatened to overtake Loki.
"I just got it yesterday!" he cried. Thor looked at him.
"You can ride mine," he said. Loki blinked, then wiped at his face again.
"Really?"
"Yes," Thor nodded decisively. "It's really big enough for both of us—and we can take turns with the reins." He canted his head. "All right?"
Loki nodded hard, sniffing.
"All right." He wiped his eyes one more time, then peered at his brother. "Are you hurt too?"
Thor looked at him, confused.
"No."
"Then why are you crying?" Loki asked, trying to straighten his legs out. Thor jerked back from him, then wiped the glittering tears from his own cheeks with his sleeve.
"I'm not," Thor snapped. Loki, perplexed, just watched him. Thor scrambled to his feet, then looked down at him.
"Can you get up?"
Loki considered a moment, then nodded hesitantly.
"I…think so…"
Thor held out his calloused hand.
Loki glanced up at him, then reached up and grabbed it. Thor heaved him to his feet, and then helped him back up the stairs. As they reached the top, Thor snorted in disgust.
"That's the stupidest place to put those plants," he declared. "I'm going to tell Mumma to move them."
Loki glanced up at his big brother, and, despite his pain, he smiled.
"Did you think I would leave you crying,
When there's room on my horse for two?
Climb up here, Jack, and don't be crying
I can go just as fast with two!
When we grow up, we'll both be soldiers,
And our horses will not be toys.
And I wonder if we'll remember
When we were two little boys…"
TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLT
Long years passed
War came so fast
Bravely they marched away
Cannon roared loud
And in the mad crowd
Wounded and dying lay
Up goes a shout
A horse dashes out
Out from the ranks so blue
Gallops away
To where Joe lay
Then came a voice Joe knew…
LTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL
Thor let out a bellowing roar and hurled Mjollnir as hard as he could. Thunder rolled past him, splitting the air, cold wind rushing all through his hair and cape. The hammer, like a shaft of lightning, slammed straight through the ranks of the Svartalfar—elves with pitch-black skin, long blue hair and eyes like white fire—and sent them careening and flying. Mjollnir raced back to Thor and slapped into his right palm. Thor spun and surveyed the scene.
Deep gray clouds roiled overhead, flashing with blue lightning. All around him on the uneven, volcanic Svartaheim landscape of glinting obsidian, the flashing, gleaming soldiers of the Aesir screamed and slashed and hacked and fenced, even as hundreds of Svartalfar darted round and round them, their short knives flaying open chests and backs, their glowing arrows slicing the air and shafting through armor and bone. The Aesir's horses clattered through the ranks, whinnying and screeching, as they fought their panic to obey their masters.
Fear flickered through Thor's heart. He could not see his father, or his brother.
A flash came from his left. He whirled.
A tall, lithe elf, a long sword held lightly in his left hand, suddenly stood before him. He wore long, draping clothes that moved with every breath of wind, like a shroud of cobweb. He cocked his head, and his white eyes pierced through Thor's heart.
The elf smiled.
He leaped at Thor.
Thor brought up his hammer. The elfin sword clashed against it.
Thunder boomed.
Thor spun back, and the elf pursued—slashing and lunging at him with wicked speed. Thor fought to keep his footing on this terrain—for the stones were so sharp they were like knives themselves, and block all the elf's strikes with Mjollnir.
The sword glanced off Thor's shoulder. He sidestepped, then brought his hammer down on the elf's skull.
It crushed it.
The elf collapsed like a dead weight.
Thor sensed another presence.
Panting, he turned.
And a white arrow went straight through him.
He stiffened, then staggered backward, his left hand flying up to the right part of his upper chest. His fingers blundered into the burning-hot shaft that stuck out of his armor.
His legs gave way.
He crashed to the ground. The shaft, whose head had gone all the way through him, rattled, and the wood of it sang.
His right arm went limp—he couldn't feel it. Mjollnir slipped out of his grasp.
He choked. His throat and tongue felt thick. His heartbeat raced, and his left foot kicked out. He swallowed hard once, then again. His wildly searching eyes saw only the swirling sky. Then, his vision clouded, and went black.
LTL
Dull sounds, dull impressions, dull shadows, pulled on Thor's consciousness. Something grabbed his shoulders. Something shook him.
Then—
His eyes flew open and he let out a rending scream—
As the arrow yanked free of his body, sending blood spilling from his chest.
"Silence!" the command lashed through the air, and a freezing-cold hand slapped down over his mouth. Thor thudded back onto the ground, grunting over and over in unfathomable pain, biting down hard as tingles and needling agony raced through his whole body.
Another freezing hand pressed down over his wound—it felt like someone had poured ice-water into his veins. He blinked hard, several times, trying to see who it was that held him down.
And at last he did—well enough to recognize him.
An armor-clad young man, lean and hard, pressed his right hand over Thor's mouth and his left over Thor's gushing wound. He had a white, angular face, and his black hair hung around his brow and eyes. His emerald eyes stared down at his left hand, his mouth hard.
He moved his right hand from Thor's mouth and rested it on Thor's breastplate, still focused on the arrow wound.
"Loki," Thor rasped.
"Shush," Loki said shortly, not moving. Thor began shivering uncontrollably, and could only give a cursory glance around him. It was dark—and he sensed a large, living presence standing quietly behind Loki.
"Who…Who is there?" Thor asked.
"Einar," Loki said under his breath. "Without a saddle."
Thor then heard the soft whuffling of a horse behind his little brother. Thor swallowed.
"What happened?"
"We retreated, moved the ranks," Loki murmured, his brow tightening in concentration as his fingers probed deeper into Thor's wound. "Then I realized you weren't with us."
"Are we—"
"Behind the lines?" Loki lifted an eyebrow. "You could say that."
Thor screwed his eyes shut and gulped back a wail as he almost swore that Loki's fingers touched a raw nerve.
A blinding flash of light issued.
Thor jerked.
Loki, gasping, sat back and glanced down at his blood-covered hands. He met his brother's eyes.
"That ought to hold you for now." He got up. "Come on."
Thor, his muscles like liquid, could barely lift himself enough to grab Loki's hand with his left. Loki pulled him to his feet, then clicked softly to Einar. The horse—a tall, serious, dark-eyed bay steed—stepped out of the shadows, his hooves clacking on the rock. He glanced at Loki, his ears flicked, and then he knelt down.
Loki, not letting go of Thor, swung his leg over Einar's back and scooted up. Thor stumbled forward, and managed to straddle the horse and sit behind his brother.
Einar got up. Thor numbly wrapped his arms around Loki's waist.
"Mjollnir…" he tried.
"I have it," Loki assured him. "Hang on." And he urged Einar forward.
Cold night wind blew through Thor's hair, chilling his sweaty brow, as Einar broke into a trot. Thor swallowed repeatedly, trying to keep himself from getting sick. His head drifted forward until he leaned his forehead against the back of Loki's hard metal collar.
The horse trotted smoothly, quietly, through a low valley. Then, the valley opened up to a rocky field.
Thor felt Loki stiffen.
"And here it will get interesting..." Loki whispered.
Thor squinted. And then his heart thudded.
Directly ahead of them stood the hundreds of low tents of the Svartalfar encampment.
"Loki…" Thor murmured.
"Sh," Loki said again. Then, he lifted his bloody left hand and held it out, palm up. He rubbed his fingers together swiftly, and Thor saw sparks flash between his fingertips.
And then…
A soft, blanket-like warmth draped over Thor, Loki, and the horse. And Einar's hooves went silent. So did Thor's breathing.
"They cannot hear us or see us," Loki told him, and his voice sounded very far away. "Unless we move suddenly."
Thor gripped his brother tighter and leaned his head down. He felt as if any moment he might lose consciousness—and his falling off the horse would most certainly be a sudden movement.
In a matter of moments, they neared the border of the encampment—and then they passed into it. Einar strode within inches of tent stakes and cloth walls and watch fires. Thor shivered uncontrollably, now—though it had nothing to do with his fear and everything to do with is wound—his wound, which he felt bleeding again. The hot blood ran down the skin of his chest and back, soaking his undertunic, making it stick to the underneath of his armor.
Loki gingerly guided Einar between the maze of tents, hardly breathing. And, after an endless amount of time, they crossed by the last tent and left the pale glow of the Svartalfar camp behind.
Loki reached down and took hold of Thor's wrist. Hard. And then he clicked to Einar.
The horse broke into a flying gallop. Thor lurched, but Loki held him fast. They raced over the black earth, through the night—and to Thor, it seemed their passage took place in the blind, for he could see nothing ahead of them.
The breathless, headlong rush did not last long, however—Einar slowed down to a canter, then a trot, then a walk…
And Thor caught a glimpse of the soft, glowing tents of the Aesir.
Loki drew Einar up next to the healing tent and halted him, then slid easily off to the ground. Instantly, he turned around and took hold of Thor's arm and leg.
Thor leaned toward him, managing to pull his left leg up and over Einar's back, until he could slip to the ground. His feet hit the dirt, and Loki caught most of his weight. Thor grunted, wincing, and his shoulders tightened.
"Eir," Loki called, turning toward the tent. "I have a new charge for you."
Eir, her flaming red hair bound up, her slight form clad in battle clothes, pushed through the tent flap. Her eyes went wide.
"Thor!" she cried. "You're alive!"
"Barely," Thor muttered, feeling cold.
"Take care of him," Loki urged, as she took hold of Thor's arm. Thor started toward the tent, then turned back and peered at Loki.
"Are you hurt?"
Loki blinked, then reached up with his right hand and swiped at his eyes, then drew in an unsteady breath and cleared his throat.
"No," he shook his head, though Thor could see his eyes shining.
Thor paused, then nodded once to him.
Loki halfway smiled, and nodded back. And as Thor ducked into the tent, he heard his brother heave a deep, long sigh of relief.
"Did you think I would leave you dying
When there's room on my horse for two?
Climb up here, Joe, we'll soon be flying
Back to the ranks so blue!
Can you feel, Joe, I'm all atremble
Perhaps it's the battle's noise.
But I think it's that I remember
When we were two little boys…"
To be continued…