A/N: I'm alive! So... sorry for taking so long to update. I can make excuses (school, work, etc.), but you probably don't really care. :)

I will say this: I have every intention of finishing this story. I HATE unfinished stories, and I don't want to be that person that leaves you forever in suspense about what will happen. I just won't make any guarantees about how long it will take...

Anyway, enjoy this chapter, and MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.

Chapter 10

Previously: Loki looked up sharply, intending to reject her statement that he had collapsed. He had merely had a... guided descent to the floor. However, the quick movement of his head caused a spike of pain, increasing the headache that had begun during the fight with the creature.

Stifling a groan, he shut his eyes tightly and pressed his palm to his forehead. The movement betrayed him, however, and his sleeve slid down, revealing the distinctive rash that he had so painstakingly hidden for the past few days.

Thor's eyes widened as he spied his brother's arm. Before Loki could react he reached out and grabbed the younger prince's hand and pulled the sleeve higher up.

"Loki!" Thor exclaimed, "You have the disease?"

Belatedly, Loki yanked his arm out of Thor's grip and drew the sleeve down, covering the rash. Looking around and seeing the shocked expressions on Thor, Sif, and Fandral's faces, he realized he had some explaining to do.

There was a moment of silence that echoed in Loki's ears, strangely exacerbating the throbbing in his head as much as a loud noise might have, as he contemplated what to do. A part of him was tempted to simply get up and continue with the search for the vietablóm. The rash was self-explanatory, really, and it wasn't like there was much anyone could do about it miles deep under the Eldamar mountains. Every moment delayed meant he was closer to becoming too ill to help find the flower and develop the cure, and more Asgardians became too far gone to save.

Unfortunately, he was currently unable to stand, let alone walk away from a trio of determined Asgardian warriors. Loki was a powerful sorcerer, capable of magic that many with more age and experience could not do, but he had been placed under considerable strain during this journey, especially in the past few days. With the oppression of the mountain's magic and the internal attack from the parasite, he was battling on two fronts, all the while feeling for danger to warn Thor and his friends, using magic to control his symptoms, and reaching out to be guided to the flower. The finale of blazing light he had used to help cast down the beast had simply been too much.

The dull ache had begun as the group entered the large cavern, and had increased exponentially during the fighting. Now, the pain had roared up in his head like the beast they had just defeated, paralleled by roiling nausea in his gut. The room spun around him and the floor seemed to pitch like the deck of a ship at sea. If Loki tried to get up, he was likely to be thrown down into the dirt by his own weakness.

Even if he could travel, the looks on his companions faces assured him that they would not go anywhere without further explanation. The surprise had shifted quickly to concern, particularly on Thor's part, but also anger. As Loki took deep breaths and tried to steady himself, Thor's thundering voice cut into the silence. "Loki! Why did you not say anything? How long have you known you were ill?"

Loki chose to answer the second question first, as it had a more straightforward answer. "The rash appeared on my arms the same day I discovered the cure. As it has now been about a week, the symptoms have also started to manifest themselves."

Sif sputtered for a moment. "That means that you knew before we left for Alfheim! How could you think that you could come on this quest if you knew you had the disease?"

"I am ill, but not incapacitated. Not yet, at least." Loki answered with a glare. "You would not be able to find the flower. Without me, you would not have even know where to start!"

Fandral shifted uncomfortably. "How do you know you haven't passed the disease on to us? We have been traveling together now for over a week, in close quarters. If this illness is as contagious as it appears, you have placed us all in danger."

Loki opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Sif interrupted. "For that matter, you have placed all of Alfheim in danger as well. Heimdall warned us against spreading the disease to other realms." The female warrior stood tall, her eyes lit with indignation, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword.

"Heimdall was aware of the rash. There is not much that escapes his sleepless watch, or he would not be a very effective gatekeeper," Loki scoffed. "He understood why it was necessary for me to go to retrieve the vietablóm, as you must also. What do any of you know of magic, you who always scorn its use and mock my skills?"

Loki was becoming angry, his emotions driven by his impatience and the aching in his head. He took a calming breath and continued. "We were placed far enough from the population of Alfheim that no one from this realm is at risk. As for you, now that I am aware of the source of the disease, I have been able to contain it within my own magic. None of you will catch the disease from me, and as none of you have shown any symptoms yet, it is likely that you did not catch it before leaving. So, in fact, you are actually less likely to become ill here, with me, than you would be had you stayed on Asgard."

Finishing his explanation, Loki glanced at Thor, who had remained crouched beside him throughout the discussion, and who had remained uncharacteristically quiet. Thor met his eyes, concerned and bright blue touching pained, squinted green. "Loki, brother…"

Thor's mouth hung slightly open as though he wanted to continue. His voice was for once was something resembling soft as he trailed off, unsure of what to say. The worry shown in his eyes and the furrowed lines of his brow were articulate enough, though.

"I am fine for now, Thor." Loki reassured him quietly. Sif relaxed her stance and allowed her shoulders to droop. Fandral flicked his eyes up to hers for a moment before turning to the floor of the cavern, ashamed. They had been so focused on the implications of what Loki having the disease meant, that they had forgotten what the having the disease meant, really meant, for Loki himself.

Loki spared a look at them before resuming speaking with his brother. "The amount of magic I used during the fight exacerbated my symptoms, but I am already feeling better."

It was true. During the debate the ragged walls of the cavern had stopped whirling about, and the nausea had diminished. The pounding in his head remained, and he suspected it would continue to remain, though at a lesser intensity. With a bit more rest, he would be ready to continue with the journey.

"Well, at least now you know. Do you have any idea how hard it is to try to suppress a cough, continuously?" Loki tried to make a joke, allowing a small smile to touch his lips.

Humour touched Thor's face for a brief moment, but if quickly faded, and he asked, "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Loki shook his head. "No. Simply continue with the quest as you have done, and ensure that we reach the flower as quickly as possible. We must find it before I become too ill, for not only my life but the fate of Asgard rests upon us retrieving the vietablóm and bringing it to Eir."

Sif frowned. "Your life? Can you be certain you have a severe form of the disease? Perhaps you only have the mild form, like Volstagg," she stated hopefully.

"I have a theory regarding why the disease affects some people more than others," Loki answered. His eyes slid to Thor for a moment before continuing. Thor would not be happy about his speculations. "We do not have experience with diseases affecting magic, so this is not certain, but I think that those Asgardians with more magic are more seriously affected. It acts like a parasite, feeding on the magic, so those with more simply provide it with more 'food', as it were. Volstagg has very little magic, whereas Hogun has much more."

Fandral opened his mouth to speak, but Loki simply continued talking, anticipating the blonde's question. "Hogun is no sorcerer, obviously, but all Asgardians have varying levels of latent magic, and his is higher, while Vosltagg's is lower. The more inherent magic in a person, the deadlier the disease."

Loki did not need to continue explaining. As one of the foremost sorcerers in all the Nine Realms, the amount of magic in him surpassed others' greatly. If his theory was true, the fact that he had contracted the disease was almost surely a death sentence, unless they could find the cure in time.

Thor took a breath to speak, before hesitating. Loki sighed. "Speak you mind Thor. I am not yet on my deathbed, and I have every intention of keeping it that way."

"Well, if the disease will affect you more severely, why are you not more sick?" Sif and Fandral glanced at Thor is surprise. Loki had just collapsed after all. The older brother hastened to explain. "You are ill, I can see that, but as soon as Hogun started showing symptoms he was bedridden. You are weakened, but not as much as he was."

As if to contradict Thor's statements, the back of Loki's throat chose that moment to tickle, and he let out a few hoarse coughs before replying. "Ironically, it is my magic that has helped to lessen the symptoms for the moment. I am aware of my magic and can use it, unlike those untrained in sorcery, to combat the parasite. However, it is my skill and amount of magic that is paradoxically assuring that I will die without a cure. Think of it like a dam. With my skill I can hold back the disease, but eventually the dam will break and the results will be much more severe."

An uneasy silence followed the younger brother's explanation. Thor, Sif, and Fandral were uncertain how to react to the revelation of Loki's illness and the danger he was in, and the dark-haired Asgardian was contemplating the future that awaited him. After a few seconds, though, Loki gathered himself and began shifting his feet underneath him. Thor held out a hand, but Loki ignored it and stood to his feet under his own power.

"Come now," Loki stated, allowing a mischievous twinkle into his eyes, "we must continue. After all, Thor's idiocy has resulted in a delay. Do try, dear brother, to reign in your usual stupidity and let us finish this journey"

Loki's voice was light, if a bit forced, and Thor allowed himself to be drawn into the brotherly banter and jibes as they left the cavern, followed closely by Sif and Fandral.

After the vastness of the cavern, the twisted tunnels seemed even more claustrophobic. Loki had once again lighted the way with a glowing green orb, after much assurances that yes, he was perfectly capable of doing so and no, it would not make him more sick and please Thor, just shut up and continue walking.

The way was winding, with jagged rocks appearing out of the gloom to trip the warriors and a low hanging ceiling from which those without sharp eyes and quick reactions received many bruises. They came across areas where they travelers were forced to slide their way through narrow, small passages like snakes, dragging themselves forwards with tiny movements of their fingers and toes. At times the group had to climb up or down steep precipices, a slow and treacherous process in the dim light.

After a few hours, the group found a spot in the tunnel in which they had room to lie down, and took nourishment and rest. Loki, much to the others' concern, ate little and fell asleep almost immediately upon stretching out on the rocky ground. Thor, Sif, and Fandral each took a rotation standing guard, estimating about an hour for each shift.

While Thor was on watch, the last before they planned to continue their journey, he contemplated Loki. While asleep, his younger brother's smaller size was emphasized. Awake, Loki had a presence, a pride around him, that as much as dared anyone to comment or scorn his stature. His movements were always sure and quick, his chin held high, and his eyes glinting with intelligence and wit. Many might find it hard to believe, but in some ways Thor was intimidated by Loki. In combat Thor held the upper hand, with his broad shoulders and strength, but Loki was cunning and smart, and in comparison, Thor sometimes felt like a bumbling oaf beside the grace of his brother. He was relieved to have Loki by his side, and would have him to aid in the running of the realm when he became king.

Thor was a capable leader, had proven so many times throughout the various adventures and duties as a prince he had performed throughout the centuries, but Loki provided a balance to his brashness and impulsiveness. Many times, Loki played the voice of common sense when Thor was ready to leap before looking. Loki also proved more than capable of navigating the intricacies of court and of handling the nuances of Asgard's economy and politics, which Thor often did not have the patience for. At times, Thor would watch Loki work and would shudder to imagine what a formidable enemy his brother would make. Although often mocked for his chosen fighting style and use of magic, he had a greater grasp of strategy than many others, and was able to use words as a dangerous weapon in their own right.

Now, though, Loki slept, and with the prideful mannerisms stilled and the piercing, intelligent eyes closed, he appeared small, almost fragile. Although as tall as any Asgardian, Loki had always been thinner than the stocky build of most of the inhabitants of the realm. Looking through the filter of the knowledge of Loki's illness, Thor could not help but be worried for his younger sibling. He had not missed the pain in his brothers green eyes, or the weakness of his limbs as he caught him and lowered him to the ground earlier in the day.

Shaking himself out of his gloomy thoughts, Thor moved over to where his companions slept, shaking them awake. He roused Sif first, idly dodging her swats as she shifted from sleep to wakefulness. Then he woke Fandral, and went to Loki last. At Thor's touch, Loki's eyes fluttered open, and a grimace and small groan escaped before he woke fully and any trace of discomfort was erased off his face.

"Time to continue," Thor said, struggling to refrain from commenting on Loki's condition. Any sympathy would be poorly received, and the reality was that Thor had nothing to offer Loki but empty words and assurances.

The group gathered their supplies and without comment began once again through the tunnel. The mood was somber, but they were warriors, and refused to let themselves be discouraged. After a few minutes, Fandral spoke up, regaling his companions with the tale of his latest duel on the training grounds, embellishing the story obviously enough to make Sif groan and Thor laugh raucously. With the tension broken, conversation flowed more freely, and the darkness seemed to lighten.

As they walked, climbed, and crawled through the cave system, they gradually became aware of a change in the environment surrounding them. Whereas previously, the route had been rough and jagged, and the pathway strewn with boulders and rocks, now there were stalagmites and stalactites blocking their way. The green light from the globe was reflected off the formations, giving the tunnel the appearance of the jaws and maw of some great creature.

The atmosphere itself felt closer and moister, even though the tunnel was actually widening. Each breath seemed to take more effort, the air sucking into their lungs with reluctance. Loki could be heard coughing occasionally, the damp irritating his already strained lungs.

Eventually, the conversation died down, and with the absence of the voices Loki thought he heard a sound. Signaling for the others to stop, he listened closely. Once the noises of leather grating on rock stopped he perceived a rushing sound that echoed strangely off the walls around them. A glance at Thor, Sif and Fandral showed that they heard it too.

Moving forward again, but keeping their steps quiet, the warriors advanced down the passage. The noise became louder, and eventually Sif identified the sound. "I think it is a river. It is difficult to tell due to the echoing."

"I agree," said Fandral. "It must be a fast one, to be making that much sound."

Once they came upon the river, Fandral was proven to be correct. The water cut straight across the path, ten meters below the ledge upon which they stood. The river was swollen and frothy with turbulence. Across the water the Asgardians could see where the tunnel continued, equal to the height at which they stood. To get there, they would have to climb down, cross the water, and climb up again.

The group stood for a moment, contemplating their route, before Fandral exclaimed, "Well, we will not get to the other side by looking. Come on then!"

With that he carefully lowered himself over the edge of the precipice and began the perilous climb towards the seething water.