A Fistful of Lightening – Part Nine

Like all Aesir children, Thor had grown up listening to bedtime stories about the Frost Giants. Horror stories. Tales about how they would sneak into Asgard and steal away naughty girls and boys from their beds; or how they liked to feast on Aesir hearts for breakfast; or that they possessed the power to suck the soul right out of your body and place it inside a single snowflake, only to leave it to melt and then evaporate in a pot over a fire.

Yes, they were indeed grim fairy-tales, but it was all just a bit of fun. Thor had enjoyed hearing the dark stories which chilled his blood; it made his cosy bedroom feel all the more safer, knowing that his mother and father would always protect him from the evils which lay just beyond the realm of Asgard.

He had never imagined that his brother could be one of them.

After Loki had let go of Gungnir, Odin had dragged Thor back onto the bridge. For a time they were frozen in stunned silence, Thor kneeling at the edge and Odin standing behind him. Finally, Thor felt his father's heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go inside now."

"He just let go – I couldn't stop him..."

Odin led Thor to the family's private chambers, where Frigga was waiting anxiously for them. She could tell by their faces that Loki was gone, but she still needed to hear the full story. Thor sat limply in a chair while Odin explained to Frigga what had happened.

As was usual for Odin his conversation had been brief, brisk, and spoken with little emotion. To many his demeanour would have been judged to be purely cold and unfeeling, but to his wife, who understood him better than anyone else, could clearly see the hurt that hid behind the cold eye and marble face. She fell into his embrace, to comfort him as much as herself, resting her head on his shoulder.

"He said that we were not brothers," Thor said in a rusty voice. He did not notice the look that passed between Odin and Frigga. "That we never were. What madness had gripped him, that he could no longer recognise me as his brother? That he could do such terrible things?"

Frigga returned to her seat, as Odin said, "Loki has always been highly temperamental, and yes, maybe possessed a disposition towards insanity...that would not be surprising knowing what his blood father was like."

Thor looked up sharply, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Your brother was born a Frost Giant," Odin went on, in the same clipped tone. "Abandoned and left to die by his own family, I rescued him from Jotunheim and brought him home. Laufey was his father."

Thor had swallowed loudly, closing his eyes as he tried to quickly process the overwhelming revelation. His brother...one of the monsters he had been raised to destroy...one of the enemy...son of the enemy...

Frigga had reached across the table to take his hand. He'd jumped at her touch; pulled away.

"I think...perhaps...I understand some of his rage now..." He had spoken quietly, barely able to get his words out. "Why Loki was driven to madness, because you were ashamed of what he was-"

He had flinched as Odin had slammed down his fist onto the table.

"I carried him home in my arms!" Odin snarled. He lent on the table, staring Thor down with his icy, grey eye. "It seems that no matter how much do for my children, I will forever be condemned of not loving enough."

"Enough!" Frigga barked, springing to her feet. "We all love Loki. But that alone will not bring him home."

The silence that followed her words hung heavily in the air between the Odinsons. Thor and Odin shared a worried look, before Thor finally said quietly:

"Mother, we both saw him fall. The observatory went first; it was crushed by the power of the worm-hole. I think Loki truly gone."

Frigga smiled sweetly at him as the tears ran down her face.

"If he were, I would have felt it," she said, with absolute conviction. "But, as I did not feel him die I will believe that he is living still. We must search for him."

"No, Frigga," her husband said in a low voice, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Heimdall cannot see him, nor can I, even when I look beyond the Nine Realms. Our son-daughter is gone. Now we must mourn. The whole of Asgard will mourn for three days."


Thor had never seen Loki in his true form before. For a moment he was oblivious to his brother's pain and instead stared, transfixed, at his blue skin and the fine crack-like ridges which ran down the side of his face. This was one of the monsters he had heard so many horrible stories about; one of the savages who were the eternal enemy of the Aesir.

It had been easy to pretend that he had no such prejudices, as long as Loki wore his Aesir form and as long as they never discussed his true heritage. But now that the mask had been ripped away he could no longer deny the deeply ingrained disgust that churned somewhere in his stomach.

He felt ashamed of himself, but there was no time to deal with such feelings. The blood dripping from Loki's nose was splattering over the pillow. He was still clutching his stomach and convulsing with pain.

"I'm going to get the Doc, okay?"

It was hard to tell if Loki understood him or not; his red eyes were clouded with pain and fever, but he was looking at Thor nonetheless.

"Thor..."

Sluggishly, Loki caught hold of his arm, long fingers wrapping around his forearm. Thor cried out in agony as the water in his cells froze beneath Loki's touch, leaving a painful ice burn behind. He shook himself free, knocking Loki's arm aside.

It worried Thor that Loki no longer seemed to be aware of what was happening; he had certainly had given no indication that he was cognizant that he had lost his Aseir form, something which should have elicited some kind of emotional reaction from him. And it positively frightened Thor to have witnessed how quickly he descended back into delirium.

"Supergiant got herself killed..." Loki mumbled, burying his face into the pillow, leaving streaks of red across the material.

"What? What's a supergiant?"

"Don't blame me..."

Thor watched helplessly as he curled up even tighter, moaning loudly. Patches of sweat were showing through his shirt.

Thor rubbed his sore forearm. He knew that he needed to fetch the Doc, but he couldn't risk Loki hurting him, even if it would be unintentional. He hurried out of the room, returning a moment later with a length of rope and used it to bind Loki's wrists together. Loki was too weak to even stop him. His eyes rolled in his head as Thor secured the rope.

"Sorry, but I can't let you hurt the Doc by accident."

Thor ran to the window and was relieved to see the Doc down below, talking to Rai and his friends.

"Doc!" he yelled. "We need you!"

The Doc Sheriff immediately pushed past the others, running around the Commodore to his horse to snatch his medical bag off the saddle.

Thor waited beside Loki as he heard the Doc pounding up the stairs, and then the sound of his footsteps running across the kitchen. The bedroom door flew open, but the footsteps ended there.

The Doc Sheriff had come to an abrupt halt in the doorway. His mouth hung open and his scales stood up on end. He pointed towards Loki.

"Is that – he is...?"

"Doc, please! I know what he looks like, but he's still my brother and he needs your help. Doc!"

Thor's yell was loud enough to break the Doc out of his trance. He returned back to true doctor professionalism as he picked up his bag once more and knelt beside the mattress.

"Sorry, I just...I'll do my best," he said, sounding terribly uncertain and unable to take his eyes off the blue creature who writhed before him. "Why is he tied up?"

Thor hesitated. He couldn't lie, but he doubted that the truth would help matters.

"His touch causes ice burn," Thor replied quietly, holding up his arm.

The Doc's eyes widened; he was frozen in the act of placing his stethoscope's ear buds into the appropriate place. Suddenly, he stuffed the instrument back into his bag and jumped to his feet.

"I'm sorry, Stranger, I am. But I don't know what this is. I don't even know what he is. Or what you are." He spoke angrily, fearfully. "I knew straight away when we first met that there was something suspicious about you two, but this – this is too much now! I want the two of you out of my town!"

He made for the door, but Thor blocked his path.

"Wait, Doc, please! It's quite simple, really. I'm Thor, the god of Thunder. And that's my brother, Loki, god of Mischief. We come from a place called the Nine Realms. Nothing complicated about that, right?"

"Gods?" The Doc squeaked. "If he's your brother then why does he look like that?"

"Uh, well, he's not actually my blood brother. He's from a planet called Jotunheim, a world of Frost Giants -"

"He's not big enough to be a giant!"

"No, good point. He was born small. And my father and his father were enemies, and my father found him abandoned and so -"

"Just shut up! Shut your mouth!" The Doc snapped, his eyes flashing angrily. "The more you explain the more confusing it gets."

They were interrupted by the noise of a painful sounding coughing fit. It was powerful enough to shake Loki's whole body. The coughing soon turned into retching and then he was vomiting.

Thor paled when he saw the colour of the vomit. Bright crimson.

"He's dying, isn't he?"

The Doc didn't answer. His previous reservations temporarily forgotten, he had returned to Loki's side. He quickly pulled on a pair of gloves and was doing his best to examine Loki, but being unfamiliar with Jotun physiology there was only so much he could do. He used a damp cloth to wipe away the vomit and blood from Loki's mouth and nose, his own face looking grim.

"Isn't there anything we can do? Try?"

The Doc shook his head hopelessly and Thor felt his heart sink; but then the Doc stilled, consulted his pocket watch and stared out of the window.

"Maybe..." he said to himself in a low voice.

It was enough to give Thor hope.

"What?" he demanded. "What?"

Suddenly, the Doc was all action. He leapt to his feet and began packing up his bag.

"I'm warning you, Stranger, this most likely won't work. But if anyone has a shot of pulling it off it's you."

"Anything. But, what -"

"I'll explain on the way. There's no time to lose. We need to put him in the back of my cart, so pick him up gently! And don't forget your hat. Stranger, we're gonna take a little ride out into the desert. Let's go!"


Thor urged the Doc's horse, Har, on as fast as he could go. Thankfully, the beast was more than used to charging through the desert in the cause of a medical emergency, and Thor was highly impressed with how it's two heads strained at the bit as it galloped over the sand, hooves barely touching the ground.

The Doc was riding in the back, doing his best to stem the flow of blood from Loki's nose and to keep him cool. To keep him alive. His task was made all the more difficult by the bouncing of the cart, but he doggedly kept to his task.

The Frost Giant had fallen still and was no longer responding to anything that was going on around him. His eyes were half-open, but they heard no spark or gave any indication that he was seeing the outside world. He was wrapped up in his ice blanket, but it was doing little to keep his fever down. Every breath he took in sounded jagged and laboured.

"How's he doing?" Thor shouted over the rattle of the wheels.

"Just keep looking for those train tracks!" was the less than optimistic reply.

Look for the train tracks, that was the only direction the Doc Sheriff had offered Thor. The lack of specifics was more than enough to make Thor nervous. He scanned the scene before him, but all he could see was sand and in the distance the hazy outline of the mountains.

Dusk was falling quickly. The setting sun had set the whole sky ablaze: reds mixed with pinks and oranges. Thor was only too glad to welcome the night in, his brother's time. Hopefully, it would lend him some much needed strength. It was not useful for everyone, though.

"And how are you doing, Doc?"

The Sheriff's reply sounded a little weary. "Don't you worry about me, Stranger. Just keep going. You should see the tracks any moment now."

Thor looked around and – yes- spotted a glint in the distance and to their left, the last of the sun's rays bouncing off the steel tracks. It seemed odd to Thor that the tracks should just begin so suddenly, lain over the sand, but he didn't dwell on this peculiarity for very long.

"I see them!" he bellowed.

"Then go after them, Stranger!" the Doc howled back. "Fast as a bullet! Don't slow down for anything!"

Thor urged the two-headed horse on, shouting, "Hyah! Hyah!"

Har responded well, leaping forward, sending clouds of sand and dust flying out from under his hooves.

"Are you going to tell me anything?" Thor called.

The Doc threw one bloodied cloth away and pressed a fresh one to Loki's nose. Loki didn't even move or reacted in any way to the sudden touch. He lay limply on the floor of the cart, with his wrists still tied together and resting on his chest, covered up by the blanket.

"On this planet we have spirits we refer to as the Kin," the Doc said, tipping his hat back. "They usually live out in the wastelands. Powerful beings, but you wouldn't want to trust them any more than you would a toilet made of paper, if you know what I mean. Highly suspicious beings. But, if you can catch one then they are honour bound to grant you a wish. That's not easy though. Hope you're up for it, Stranger."

Thor gritted his teeth together as he urged Har on. Catching a wish-granting spirit sounded much more up his street than playing at being a nursemaid to Loki.

"Course I am," he said, eagerly. "Just point me in the direction of one these Kin."

He very nearly dropped the reigns as suddenly he heard an almost deafening noise – a mournful, shrill howl, like the wail of a ghost. He looked up, open-mouthed, to see a locomotive engine, pulling five carriages, towering over them as it sped along the tracks at top speed, steam billowing out from it's funnel, and pistons little more than a blur.

Har screeched in alarm and veered sharply away, bumping his heads together. Thor stood up to maintain control of the frightened beast, pulling back on the reigns. The Doc had thrown himself over to Loki to hold him down as the cart bounced alarmingly.

"Where did that come from?" Thor demanded.

"That's your Kin, Stranger!"

"What? The train is the Kin?!"

"Shape-shifters! Knew it would want to race us if we went fast enough! This one has been around for years. Now, go get it!"

Thor whipped the reigns again and felt his heart soar as the Har's speed increased. He summoned the wind to race against them and dark storm clouds to roll over the sky (it couldn't hurt now that the sun was already setting). The blood pounded in his ears in time to the hoof beats and the booms of thunder.

"Is that you doing that, Stranger?" the Doc demanded, holding onto the side of the cart.

Thor only laughed. It had been some time since he had last felt like Thor the Thunderer. But now he had the storm rising in his blood, making him feel at one with the planet and all it's natural power. It was intoxicating.

With another piercing whistle, the train turned sharply to the left, charging off into the growing gloom.

"It's getting away!"

Thor yanked sharply on the reigns. The horse changed direction so quickly that the cart tipped sideways, going up on one wheel before crashing back down again.

The Doc once again was forced to wrap his arms around Loki to prevent him from being thrown out of the cart. The Frost Giant moaned loudly as the cart fell back onto two wheels, bumping his head against the floor.

Doc Sheriff lent forward to slap Thor's head with the back of his hand.

"I ought to have you arrested for driving like a moron!" he hissed. "Can't you be more gentle?"

The train was now moving at a seemingly impossible speed, pulling far away into the distance. Thor licked his dry lips as he watched it go. The horse was doing its best, but was quickly growing tired. Thor could think of a way to help Har match its speed, but he was a little unsure. He never done anything like it before, and yet why should he not?

"Stay with us, Loki," he heard the Doc tell his patient. "Keep fighting."

Thor made his mind up.

"You want gentle?" he called over his shoulder. "Fine! Hyah!"

Har pulled to the right and away from the Kin.

"Wait – what are you doing? There's a ravine up ahead!"

"I know! I saw it earlier. I see it now."

In the growing darkness it looked like little more than a dark scar in the ground. Thor urged the horse onwards, silently praising the animal's instinctive trust in him. If only the Doc was just as trusting.

"Are you crazy?" the Sheriff demanded. "You'll kill us all!"

He tried to grab the reigns, but Thor knocked his hand aside.

"God of Thunder, remember? It'll be okay."

Har galloped with increasing speed towards the ravine. The scar seem to grow and open up in front of them, widening into a large gash.

The Doc Sheriff swore loudly as he wrapped his arms around Loki, prepared to hold onto him for as long as was possible.

With a loud double-whinny the horse leapt off the edge, taking the cart and its occupants with it. They arched in the air, and for the smallest moment hung there, looking like a child's mobile. Thor summoned a bolt of lightening to envelop the two-headed creature, lending it some of his power. Har eagerly lapped up the magic, allowing the lines of electricity to run down his body and over his flanks. Lowering his heads, Har then charged forward, dragging the cart up and up into the night sky, among the booming thunder clouds and forked bolts of lightening.

Panting heavily, the Doc slowly sat up, holding tightly onto his hat with one hand. He crawled on his knees to the side of the cart and cautiously peered over it. He quickly ducked back down again. He never been so high up before in his life.

"Gentle enough for you?" Thor asked.

"I think we have different definitions of gentle." He groaned as the wind of the storm rocked the cart. "Anything you can do to calm things down? I think I'm gonna throw up."

Thor shook his head.

"Why does everyone have to be such a bad back-seat driver? Anyway, enough, we have a train to catch. Onwards, Har!"


AN: I struggled with writing some aspects of this chapter.

One: Odin, Frigga, and Thor's initial reaction to Loki's crimes. Loki had just killed many Frost Giants, attempted to kill Thor...as well as the other betrayals he committed. I used the word madness more than once because I think that if my child suddenly turned like that I would assume a mental breakdown too. And yet I think that Loki has always been that cold and ruthless deep down; he's just good at hiding and is more subtle about it. And yet using the Bifrost to destroy an entire race is hardly subtle and during the final fight scene when Thor says, "Loki, this is madness!" and Loki replies, "Is it? Is it?" you see him visibly shaking and crying, so maybe he wasn't in complete control of himself after all. Or maybe I'm just making excuses for a character I like because, you know, genocide and murder are bad.

Either way I hope you don't mind me ignoring the attempted genocide in this fic. This is a fluffy fic.

Two: Thor's reaction to seeing Loki's Jotun form. Argh! Did I go overboard with the disgust? I don't know. I was drawing on the idea that Thor hasn't really had to deal with it face to face yet. I'm sure he spent a good deal of time brooding over it and coming to the conclusion that it doesn't really matter, but I think he can't help a reaction that he was brought up with.

And Supergiant? Who is or was Supergiant? Hmmmm...

Oh, and as for the flying horse, Thor is the Allfather now, so I'm sure he must be able to do things like that.

Thanks for reading!