Chapter 10
Thor was flying into a wild, blind panic. He clung to the cliff face tight enough to feel the stone cut into his palms while thoughts he had suppressed under layers of denial broke free and ricocheted round his skull. They beat into him what he had done and the probable worthlessness of his current actions. He suspected the only thing that kept his body from shaking was his death-grip on the rock. Terror like he had never felt before flooded over him at a prospect that had never occurred to him: failure. He could feel tears welling as he was unable to hide from reality any more. Not just failure, but death. He had dragged everyone here and then as good as killed them because he wouldn't go back to Father. Loki was right: he was coward.
He knew this, but it clashed with the need to find his brother. That's what it was now: he needed to find Loki. His spiraling emotions only heightened his urge, the only thing he had to cling onto in his storm of thoughts. He was stuck though; there was no way down. Reason told him to go up to the surface and wait for his father and the soldiers, the prospect of his Father's wrath better then these murky depths. His head begged retreat, his heart dragged him down to the chasm floor and pleaded for him continue. The two sides screamed at each other, locking up his body, and he found himself regressing to the childish wish to cover his ears and scream until it all went away. He was stuck in a tug of war while being pelted with guilt and he just didn't know what to do.
"LOKI!" The scream tore from him without a first thought, let alone a second. There was a scramble accompanied by Fandral's cursing. Thor ignored it. It was his duty to find his brother. It was the only thing he knew, and stumbling around was doing no one any good. He had to take action, he had to do something. What else could he do?
"LOKI! LOKI, IF YOU HEAR ME, ANSWER ME!" Who knew where his brother was. They could have passed by—he could be meters away or they could be leagues down the gorge.
"Thor," Fandral hissed, "keep your voice down! I nearly fell."
The prince ignored him. "LOKI!"
"We must be quiet."
"NO!" Thor snapped back. "We must not. We need to find my brother."
"Yes, but not that way."
"What other way is there? If we cannot use sight, then we must use sound."
Hogun's calm voice drifted down, but he was in no mood to be pacified. "Screaming into the Mist is more likely to attract unwelcome attention."
"Or have you forgotten what lies down here?" Fandral accused.
"If it helps us find Loki, then it is worth the risk," Thor sharply retorted.
"It will get us killed," Hogun's ever blunt comment came.
"How else will we find Loki!?" Thor demanded, aware that his shout had taken on a slightly desperate tone now.
"By keeping our voices down and not drawing the foul creatures that live in this Hel to us." Fandral's reply was far less calm. "We are useless if we are dead."
It was enough for Thor's next shout to catch in his throat. His erratic breathing filled the space instead. "We must do something. We cannot go on like this."
"Agreed," Hogun replied. "However, panicking will get us nowhere."
Thor tried not to feel the unintentional sting behind the comment. "We may have strayed down the valley."
"And we may not have."
"If we call out—"
"No!" Fandral hissed. "For Odin's sake, stop shouting."
"How else will we find him?" Thor demanded and was met by silence.
"Perhaps it is time to admit defeat," Hogun suggested calmly, but it turned Thor cold. "The All Father is—"
"NO! I WILL NOT LEAVE LOKI TO DIE! Go back if you are scared, but I WILL NOT abandon him!"
He swung his body down, in his anger and terror forgetting why he had originally been forced to stop. His feet struck stone and, finding nothing to support him, dropped down. His arms jerked him to a stop, forcing out a pained gasp as he felt them ready to pop out of their sockets, but only for a moment. Unable to take the sudden weight and pressure, his hands could no longer hold on to the rock. His palms slid over the cliff face, scraping away skin.
He fell, and it saved his life.
He didn't fall far, just enough for it to register before the air seemed to chill around him. The fog swirled as something rushed forward just above his head, speeding towards the spot his body had been not two seconds ago. A snap cut through the air, and a rumble of thunder so deep and loud that it vibrated through his body. No, not thunder, he thought as he was wrenched to a painful stop by his taut rope. It was a growl.
"Sky Serpent!" he cried out to his friends. He swung his arms to grope for the wall, hoping to catch something to grip onto. A snarl rolled through the air and Thor's rope suddenly snapped to the side, yanking him away from the wall and sending him sailing through the air. He didn't have time to be confused before something slammed into his side. He cried out as much in surprise as pain. His hand landed on the rock face. He wasn't sure what was up and down any more and his fingers curled round the rock on instinct. He was torn away again and swung until something thumped into his back. He blinked and grabbed the cliff, just in time to catch himself before he started slipping down.
"Thor? Are you with us?" Fandral had apparently decided to throw caution to the wind.
"Yes," he wheezed out; it was a close thing though. He tried to gather his bearings. He was hanging onto the wall somehow, his hand growing weaker the longer he hung on. With his other hand he groped in the Mist until it found a crack large enough to fit in. He could feel a sharp pain where one of his nails had broken off, and the skin of his palm was broken.
"Is it still here?" Fandral hissed, barely above a frantic whisper.
"If it is, you will draw it to you." Thor had no idea how Hogun sounded as calm as he always did.
A crash filled the air and the cliff face shuddered under his hands. Pebbles showered down on him, and he could hear the sound of scales grinding against rock, a firm answer to his friend's question. They remained silent. Thor took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart and welcome the rush that came with the prospect of a fight while trying to ignore all the fear that laced through his body. A fight, he reminded himself—something he could solve by hitting it. His eyes automatically attempted to seek out the danger.
Rubble fell too close to his eyes and he ducked his head down. There was a certain composure he could gain from having a new task, even if it was just swinging his sword in the hopes of hitting something. He felt around him with his feet, quickly finding foot holes to wedge them into. Even if the odds were drastically tipped against him in both arena and opponent, at least he could feel like he was getting somewhere with this. As long as he didn't think too hard about what he was fighting. He felt around him. He seemed to be in a corner, a wall both in front of and beside him, which must mean, or he hoped it meant, that he was next to a ledge. He needed that. He could not fend off an attack hanging off a wall. The grinding above him stopped, the last dusting of stone trickling down. Thor paused, reflexively looking up again.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
The silence clung around him like the Mist. As quietly as he could, shoving his satchel out of his way, he pushed himself further up the rock, wincing as something crunched loudly under his boot. He paused. Nothing. Another step up and he groped round for the top of the ledge. Why was it so quiet? Another lunge and he found his elusive plateau. Had the Sky Serpent left? His second hand joined the first, and he twisted to face the right way and pulled himself up. Had the creature left? It seemed unlikely—three helpless boys were waiting to be picked off and eaten; what self-respecting beast would turn and flee? It must be biding its time before it struck again. The thought lent his limbs a new sense of urgency, and he struggled to heave his upper body onto the shelf. When the serpent struck again he had to be ready. He would be standing tall, physically if not mentally, like a true warrior. He could feel his sword scraping across the rock as he pulled his legs up and underneath him.
He heard the grinding noise resume, accompanied by a pained scream. Thor quickly pushed himself up, only to have something jerk his harness to a stop, yanking him back down. He cringed as he slammed into the stone. What the—?
"What is happening?" he shouted into the fog, scrambling back to his hands and knees. "Who was that?"
"Fandral," Hogun answered. "Are you well?"
There wasn't an answer, nothing more than a few grunts and moans. This just went from bad to worse. Thor fumbled around to see what had wrenched him down, only finding his life-line. He must have tripped on it. He growled in frustration, not noticing how easy it was to fling it over his shoulder.
"Fandral, can you move?" He shouted, rising to his feet. Please let the answer be yes.
"I…urgh…my…"
Thor freed his sword, the action coming easily to him even when blinded. His gut flipped in what was becoming an increasingly familiar manner. His friend sounded bad, too weak. There was another smack and Fandral cried out again.
"Hogun, get over to him." His grip tightened on his sword. He needed to lure the creature and he could only think of one way to do that.
"I am."
"Good!" He made sure he bellowed it out. If he carried on he could distract their predator or at least confuse it enough for it to turn to him instead. "Hogun, do it as quickly as you can." He needed to continue, it didn't matter what he was yelling. "Once you find him, get him away. Go back. I will distract it. I have somewhere to make a stand. I have my sword. I can hold it off. Just get to Fandral and…and…get away."
A snarl nearby, closer to Thor than it had been before. His heart beat sped up.
"Noooooo," Fandral managed to groan.
"Thor, you cannot expect—" Hogun started.
"I can and you must," he barked over them. "I will follow you afterwards." His next words weren't shouted, more rasped out, but they didn't wobble. "I have no plans to die today." The words left him without him considering their sincerity. If he could see his hands, he was sure they would be bloodless from grasping his hilt; he could feel every dent and scratch. He took a deep breath, finding the prospect of a noble and honorable death not quite as appealing as he had once thought. He heard the soft snort of the Sky Serpent drawing nearer.
"The sooner you get going, the sooner we can escape." Then he swallowed down the pride that knotted his throat, because anything was better than dead friends and brother. "I was wrong, and I apologise. We should never have come down here. We should have waited." He felt the air chill further around him, just like it had when they had been attacked on the surface, and he knew what was coming.
By the Norns, he didn't want to die. He would never have dreamed that he would be such a coward in the face of death, but he couldn't deny the way his heart raced or the sweat that trickled down his cheek and over his hands. He wasn't sure if it was entirely the despair of the gorge that made him feel as if this would be a stupid and pointless demise. The air was cold enough to make him shiver. It was the cold and not fear. He was a warrior and a warrior did not tremble.
"Please do not die here," he pleaded.
The air stirred, rolling the Mist towards him. On instinct he stumbled to one side, swinging his sword wildly as he went. He could feel the rush as the serpent sped past, no more than a foot away. His sword rang out and bounced off of rock. He scrambled in the same direction, keenly aware that the edge was somewhere close by.
The cold receded; the creature was pulling away. Thor tried to stop his eyes darting around frantically, straining his hearing. All he picked up was his erratic panting. Too loud. He needed to be quiet otherwise it would know exactly where he was. No, he wanted that. Or did he? A near sob broke from him. No, push those thoughts away. He was a warrior and he would face any fiend with the bravery of a legendary hero. He was a warrior. He was.
Thor swung his sword wildly. Where was it? Was it readying itself? If it came near him then he wouldn't let it just take him. It couldn't have lost him. It must be able to hear his breathing or his heart that slammed against his rib cage and filled his ears with its beat. If it were quieter then maybe he would be able to hear something to give him a clue as to where the beast was or what it would do now. He ducked out of the way suddenly, but nothing came.
His breath hitched. WHERE WAS IT? The ice ebbed back into the air. His eyes widened. It was somewhere close. He swung his sword and it sliced through nothing but Mist which had never seemed as nightmarish as in that moment. The tales of the poets and soldiers were never like this.
The air grew increasingly cold. He quickly ducked to the side in anticipation of an attack. It didn't come, and instead Thor's back struck the cliff. He was so cold now. He had to clench his teeth to stop them chattering, but his breath still hitched and shuddered. The perspiration on his brow and shirt froze. It was close, his mind screamed. So close it had to be next to him, but this damn fog blinded him. He should strike out, but his limbs had seized up.
Something cold and wet shot out, tickling Thor's cheek and it shocked his body back into action. He let out revolted yelp and struck down roughly with his sword, stepping along the wall. There was an ear-splitting shriek that cut through the air like a whip. He didn't realise that he had dropped his sword or that he had fallen to his knees. He could feel his hands over his ears, useless as his entire head rang with the noise. It took over his world so nothing else could penetrate his senses, not even his own thoughts or shouts.
Something wet spattered against his clothes and skin, and there was a rush of air as another thing zipped centimeters from his head. Both were ignored as he pressed his hands tighter. By Odin, it hurt! More than he thought it could. How could mere sound be so painful? There was a flick against his chest. He felt a brief push of scales on his arm that nearly sent him toppling. Then the cries grew more bearable. He wasn't sure how long he remained kneeling before the idea of moving occurred to him. An obvious thought he should have had earlier. He should take this moment to flee.
He automatically reached for his sword and was rewarded with a sharp sting as the blade cut his hand. Carelessly he trailed his palm down until he clutched the hilt. He stood, and he must have taken a step because he was moving.
It was a second later that he grasped that he was moving down.
A/N:
So here we are at chapter 10. Sorry it took so long, there were a few minor setbacks.
Replies:
T.R: :) I'm very sorry for keeping you waiting for so long. Thank you so much for all your kind comments :) Hahaha. Actually, I know actually what you mean. I never thought about it like that, but I can definitely can see what you mean. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much.
SmaugFan1: Thank you :D Sorry you had to wait for so long. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on this one any time soon.
Freedom2read: Thank you. I'm glad you liked how I portrayed him in 'Fragile'. I don't really see him as an evil child abuser.
Guest (Mar 5): Hope this fits the bill.