Chapter 4:
"THOR!" Loki cries, scrambling to the edge of what is now a sheer drop, what had only seconds before been solid earth at their feet.
He looks over into what is almost pure blackness, his heart beating a wild, sickening pace against his ribs as he sees nothing, nothing, and at once his eyes sting, vision blurring in treacherous weakness.
Viciously he tries to shove it down.
No, he thinks, no, that will do no good. It will do Thor no good now to cry.
To be so scared.
Oh, but gods, he is afraid.
But Thor is not dead. He's not. He can't be.
Thor is, is, is… he's so strong, and there is no foe which can defeat him. Even… even if the drop was a great distance, Thor will… he'll have made it. He'll be alright.
Loki believes that.
He has to believe that. He has to!
Oh gods, oh, what does he do? What does he…
He thinks of the roof coming down, huge chunks of rock falling, and they must have weighed countless tons. Falling onto Thor, tearing free the very ground with their weight, pulling his big brother into darkness with them, and Loki can't see, he can't see anything.
But Thor is strong. He is so strong. Stronger than any other in Asgard, and he must have, he would be able to lift, to…
Only what if he can't? What if he's trapped down there under all those tons of stone and…
Oh, what is he doing?! He needs to move, needs to get down there now and do something!
He thinks to teleport, but as the thought passes through his mind, his magic within him roils dangerously, a sudden, almost overwhelming wave of dizziness crushing down upon him, and he remembers suddenly the blinding, white hot pain which had rippled through his frame when he'd unleashed his power upon the serpent.
And he knows there is something wrong.
Knows before he even tries to reach for it, his magic sits trapped and broken inside him, and the throbbing burn of where the snake had struck him roars behind his eyes.
The snake.
He forgot about…
The dread filled hissing again overtakes his ears, and Loki's eyes shoot wide, knowing it's too close. Right behind him.
He doesn't think, doesn't have time to. Knows only he has to get down there, get to his brother and do something.
And the next moment, he's swinging himself over the broken off ledge, clinging with shaking limbs to the sheered rock face.
Above him, the hissing reaches a cacophonous level and he dares to glance upwards, eyes large and vibrating in his skull as he sees the massive head of the serpent, reared high before him, mouth wide and fangs glistening bright in the darkness.
Fear is like a lance through him, forcing a choked gasp from Loki's lips before he forces it down and looks away.
Climb, he thinks to himself. He has to climb down.
And so he begins, precarious and slow, he can't see anything, doesn't know where he's placing his feet or hands, and he can feel himself shaking, willing himself to stop and failing.
The roar of the serpent fills his ears again, and he hears a sound like a whip through the air, knowing the thing is striking at him once more, and in his panicked terror, Loki's hands slip and he begins to slide, free fall, down the rock face.
A startled gasp rips from his throat and he scrambles for purchase again, fingers curling and clawing at the stone and dirt before him, feet kicking forward.
His stomach is in his throat and his heart pounding unrelentingly in his chest until it feels it will burst.
He doesn't know how far he drops before he finally regains his hold on the wall. Only knows he is dizzy now with fear and his limbs shake more violently than ever before.
For long seconds, he clings to the wall, trembling, sweat gathering warm and wet down his back, along his forehead, dripping into his eyes and soaking his hair.
He forces himself to breathe, to suck in large mouthfuls of air, before at last, he gains the courage to glance back above him, and he sees he's fallen a far enough distance to make the edge of the cliff a distant memory, the snake out of sight, having retreated back away.
It is only a minor relief, and Loki allows himself a moment to regain his bearings, closing his eyes and letting his forehead fall forward to touch the wall, clinging there for several, long seconds and working to calm his racing heart.
And when at last he feels his arms and legs more steady, and his breath come more surely, he swallows thickly, nodding to himself. He can do this. He… he has to do this.
For Thor. He has to do this.
He begins his slow decent, blind and in the dark.
He goes.
/
It seems an eternity he's been climbing, and with each passing moment, Loki can feel himself weakening.
His limbs have begun again to tremble, and his hands ache viciously, fingers torn apart and bleeding, his joints screaming at him to stop, stop, stop!
But he cannot.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows it's the snake's venom working through him. Knows he's been poisoned and that, more than the climb itself, is what is draining him of his strength.
For a moment, he pauses, trying to force more air into his lungs, again resting his head against the cool surface of the rock.
He has to keep going.
Thor is down there, and he doesn't know how badly he's hurt. He doesn't know if he's even…
Forcefully, Loki shakes his head, driving the thoughts from his mind.
No. No!
Thor is down there, he's alive, and Loki is going to find him. He's going to…
He swallows again, licking his dry and already chapping lips, trying to ignore how parched his mouth feels, and takes his decent back up.
/
Thanks so much again to everyone whose read and reviewed! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!