Summary: An AU for TDW in which Loki is only injured during the battle on Svartalfheim. Unable to heal himself quickly, he is now forced to depend on Thor and accompany him and Jane throughout the remainder of their latest adventure. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody. I just have fun trying to figure out what makes them tick.
Author's Note: I also feel the need to add in a sort of personal disclaimer here. I have never picked up a comic book in my life, so all my knowledge for the writing of this story comes from the movies and fellow fanfic authors. If I should happen to blatantly go against the comic book cannon at any time, please know it is not my intention. All the same, even with my knowledge of the Marvel universe as limited as it is, I do hope you enjoy this story.
Chapter 1
Thor was losing. That was somewhat of a surprise.
Loki would have to intervene, again, to help rescue him. That was rather less of a surprise.
The monster who had infiltrated Asgard's prison was methodically pounding the God of Thunder to a blonde pulp some distance off, while Mjollnir was nowhere to be seen. Why didn't that great oaf simply summon his favorite weapon like he always did? Perhaps he actually had been beaten senseless? Although admittedly a rare occurrence, it wouldn't be the first time.
Unlike his adopted brother, however, Loki knew better than to charge in against such a formidable opponent without a plan. No standard weapon appeared to have much of an impact against that creature – but what about one of those clever black hole grenades? That ought to do nicely, destroying the beast with its own foul mechanism. He pilfered one from the corpse of one of the Dark Elves he had just slain himself, threw one last look toward the mortal Jane Foster to verify that she was unharmed (he had promised Thor he would, after all), and set off at a run through the ash fields to where Thor's face was being reduced to a bloody mess.
As he approached, the Trickster god saw Thor finally raise his hand in an attempt to call Mjollnir – about time. What Loki did not realize, however, was that Mjollnir had somehow gotten behind him during the course of the battle, and he did not hear the hammer's approach over the sound of constant wind.
The pain erupted on the right side of his body, starting at his hip and running down the length of his leg, and Loki immediately crumpled to the ground with a cry. Mjollnir sailed onward after the unintended collision, yet even that was to no avail when the monster simply swatted it away like an annoying insect.
Loki tried to force himself back to his feet, out of instinct more than anything else, but an overwhelming pain was his body's only response. Panic flaring in his chest, he willed his leg to move just a fraction of an inch. Nothing. He couldn't get the limb to even twitch.
Damn! This was not how events were supposed to play out. He'd had decidedly different plans for his time on Svartalfheim; now he would have to improvise. As it was, there remained the trifling matter that Thor was still losing his battle and would require Loki's assistance to end it. But Loki could do nothing with his plundered grenade as long as Thor and the monster remained so closely engaged, not unless he wished to destroy them both. And Loki, truthfully, did not want that.
Stubbornly shoving aside his pain for the time being, he grabbed the largest rock within reach and threw it at the combatants. It struck the creature's arm, certainly not enough to injure, but enough to attract its attention. It also gave Loki an indicator of how far he would have to throw his grenade when the time came.
The beast's head jerked up, seeking its latest foe. The diversion worked. With one last punch at Thor's face, the creature left him lying there and marched instead toward Loki, who watched its approach with bated breath. Perhaps he had gambled too heavily on Thor's resilience? He needn't have worried.
The dark monster had only taken a few steps before Thor was lunging at its back again in a renewed attack. The Thunderer was tossed aside with remarkable ease…but it gave his sibling the exact opportunity he needed. With the beast distracted but finally a safe distance from Thor, Loki activated the grenade and tossed it at the monster's feet.
Watching the beast writhe, caught in a miniature vortex until at last it disappeared into nothingness, was every bit as gratifying as Loki had hoped it would be. Only the pain had dulled his satisfaction, and it was to this that the Trickster now turned his full attention. For all the times he and Thor had fought in the past, Loki had never suffered a direct blow from Mjollnir – until now.
His right leg remained useless, a dead weight, and when he sent forth a tendril of his magic to probe the wound, it came scrambling back to him in dismay. His hip bone had unquestionably been shattered by the force of the blow, culminating in a shock wave that had sent series of breaks and fractures down his femur. Hardly a fatal injury, but walking, even for him, would be out of the question until further notice.
"Loki!"
Thor dropped to his knees beside his brother's shoulders and gingerly lifted the younger god's torso off the ground, holding him across his thighs with one arm wrapped around Loki's neck to support his head. Loki clenched his eyes shut against the pain caused by Thor's jostling, yet the sentiment was by no means lost on him.
"Idiot," he hissed. "Will you never learn to pay attention to your surroundings?"
The God of Thunder was quick to apologize. "I'm sorry, you know it was not my intention. I had no idea you were so close. Fool! You know we had planned for you to keep your distance."
"Yes, yes, I know. We had also planned for you to destroy the Aether and that monster from the prisons."
Thor had the grace to appear briefly shamed. "It was you who finished it in the end, the demon that killed mother." When Loki didn't respond to that, he tightened his grip and prodded, "How badly are you hurt?"
The Trickster grimaced. "My hip is shattered, and other bones in my leg broken."
"I'm so sorry, Brother." Thor wore his remorse like a garment, and Loki breathed out a long-suffering sigh.
"You've made that abundantly clear, yes."
"Can you heal yourself?"
"I can, but it will take time." And only Loki himself could appreciate how much time. His magic would have to locate every fragment, every splinter, every particle of bone before it could begin to knit him back together properly. In the meantime, he would have precious little energy to spare for any other magical endeavors.
The elder god opened his mouth, no doubt to apologize yet again, but he was interrupted.
"Thor!"
Ah, yes, of course – the woman. Loki had almost forgotten about her.
Jane came running up to them, jacket flapping about in the wind behind her. "What happened?" she demanded, breathless, upon reaching them.
"Mjollnir struck Loki by accident," Thor explained woefully, then asked, "Jane, are you well?"
She nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." Her next glance was for Loki, and it contained something that might have resembled gratitude in a certain light. "But what do we do now? Go back to the ship?"
"No," Loki interjected through his own labored breathing. "There is a windstorm brewing here, and you, at least, will not survive it if you are caught out in the open. We must find shelter."
It was true; ashes were already whipping through the air with force enough leave welts on human skin, and it would only grow worse in the coming hours. For the immortals present, it would merely be an inconvenience, although one Loki would rather avoid in his current condition.
"I will go searching; there must be any number of caves nearby." Thor gave his sibling's shoulder a gentle squeeze before lowering him back down to the rocky turf with the same care as though he was handling an infant.
Once the Thunderer had hurried on his way, Jane came closer and knelt not far from the wounded God of Mischief.
If the ensuing silence was at all awkward, Loki paid it no mind as he struggled to focus on his healing. It almost surprised him, then, when the woman actually spoke.
"Thanks for your help today." She said it grudgingly, as though doing so only out of obligation. "For a while there, I thought you really had betrayed Thor."
Loki offered her a half-hearted shrug in response. "An understandable conclusion, given our recent history together. But what better way to craft new deceptions than with old truths?"
"And I suppose it would have taken too much effort for someone to tell me what the plan was beforehand?" The mortal made no effort to disguise the heavy sarcasm in her voice, prompting a brief, open-mouthed smile from the Trickster.
"Your ignorance was a necessary precaution. We needed you to play your part convincingly, and I'm afraid Thor couldn't vouch for your talent as an actress."
Jane didn't argue that point but instead asked, "Was this mostly your plan from the beginning or Thor's?"
"It was his, though I helped him improve upon it."
"And, umm…" Here she paused, her hesitance reemerging. "Are you really from another realm like you said? Or was that just part of the plan, too, to make Malekith trust you?"
"Jotunheim is, unfortunately, the world of my birth; but it is nothing more than that."
Loki's tone was as cold as his native realm, and Jane wisely held her tongue until crunching footsteps shortly afterward betrayed Thor's return.
"I have found a suitable place of shelter," he announced. "It is not far from here, but still we must move quickly."
He reached for Loki, but the younger god raised a hand to stop him. "You don't need to carry me like a toddler, Thor, just help me."
He wrapped one arm around his brother's massive shoulders and allowed Thor to lift him off the ground. Loki bit down on an anguished gasp at the motion, his magic screaming at him to remain still so he could be better healed, while pain shot up and down his side like a bolt of lightning. Thor paused a moment to let Loki catch his breath, a necessity which the Trickster both resented and appreciated.
To his disgust, he essentially was being carried once they started moving, having to lean the entire weight of his right side upon his brother for support; Thor's arm around his waist had to move him forward without any assistance on every other step. It probably would have been faster if he had simply let the oaf carry him, but Loki was not about to allow that kind of satisfaction at his own expense. As for the woman, what did he care if she was exposed to the elements for a while longer? It was certainly no concern of his, no matter what Thor's thoughts on the matter might be.
By the time they eventually reached the cave Thor had discovered, Loki was all but trembling with the pain and exertion of their trip. Thor tried to ease him down sitting against the cave wall, but Loki's discomfort forced him to slump even further until he was lying at full length on his left side. The Trickster grit his teeth and shut his eyes, paying no heed to the uneven stone floor beneath him. He was only vaguely aware of Thor running a quick, reassuring hand through his hair; at least the brute hadn't cuffed him again yet.
Somewhere in the background of his perception, Jane was speaking of how Malekith purposed to destroy each of the nine realms and all of the known universe with one fell blow. His pain-muddled brain wondered distantly if even those dark, hidden places between the branches of Yggdrasil would be likewise eliminated if the Dark Elf was successful.
"How?" Thor was asking in all earnestness, because obviously neither of them had yet drawn the logical conclusion.
The petite mortal shook her head, deep in thought. "When the Aether was still in me, I saw him on Earth. Why would he go there?"
"The convergence," Loki supplied at last. "From Midgard, Malekith will be able to use the Aether with its effects compounded exponentially as it passes from one world to the next. Truly, he could not ask for better circumstances under which to unleash its power."
"Well, we have to stop him then," Jane declared with decidedly Thor-like determination. "We have to find some way to get back to Earth before it's too late."
"Loki." Thor turned an entreating gaze to his sibling. "Do you know of any pathway from here to Midgard?"
The Mischief God closed his eyes again and let his head slip back down to the blessedly cold rock. "I could lead us back to Asgard easily enough, but I know of no sure way to negotiate a passage to Midgard from Svartalfheim. If I were well, I might attempt the journey on my own; however, even then, it would not be wise to experiment with passengers."
"No indeed," Thor sighed. "And now in Asgard, the only thing that awaits us all is either imprisonment or exile."
A grim silence fell over their small company at that until, quite suddenly, the cave was filled with a most peculiar sound.