"Loki…"

Shut up…

"Loki!"

Go away…

"Loki!"

His heavy eyes snapped open, plunging the young prince into a world of still chaos.

It was dark, yet not too dark. A hazy gray clouded the air and Loki fought desperately to clear his vision.

Someone hissed his name again, so he went to turn toward the voice…

… Only to find his limbs largely incapacitated.

What in the…?

"Loki!"

"Thor…?" Upon hearing the sound of his own voice, Loki feared for a moment that he'd fallen ill, it was so hoarse and groggy.

"Sorry to disappoint you," his companion quipped in that sickeningly familiar tone.

Loki let a sigh brush past his lips. "Fandral."

"The one and only."

"Where's…?" Loki squinted in a vain attempt to clear his mind. Everything was so clouded, so distorted.

"Literally everyone else?" Fandral shrugged as much as he was able. "No clue."

That's when Loki realized they both weren't simply bound, no… The rope cutting into his chest bound them together.

He stifled a groan. Back to back with the one person of whom he didn't even care to stand within a five foot radius.

"Probably trying to find us," Fandral continued and Loki felt him struggle briefly against their bonds. "So, we have a couple of options. We can either wait for a rescue that may or may not arrive, or we can try to get out of these bonds ourselves."

Loki furrowed his brows, attempting to clear the last of the fog from his mind. Option one sounded a bit tedious and he wasn't really in the mood for patience. Especially not when tied back to back with Fandral.

With a deep breath, Loki steadied himself and concentrated.

"Well?" he heard the warrior ask, never ceasing in his struggle. "Are you going to at least help me, or…?"

A small flash of gold gave Loki what he needed and he savored the familiar feeling of the dagger in his palm.

"No," Loki retorted as he began to cut through the ropes, "I was simply waiting for you to realize how utterly pointless it is to struggle like that."

"Do you have a better idea?" The snarky comeback hung in the air, waiting to be granted a voice. Fandral, however, had no doubt heard the light sawing of the dagger and wisely kept his mouth shut.

Silence consumed them for several long moments before Fandral shattered it. It was just a matter of time…

"You know, if you conjured up one of those for me, we could get out of here faster."

Loki offered him an absent hum and nothing more. Perhaps it was petty, but the knives he kept stored in his cache were recent gifts from his mother. Just the thought of Fandral's annoying hands closing around one of them was enough to make him shiver. And he didn't know why.

Perhaps if he were a bit nicer, a bit more inclusive of "the younger generation" as they all insist upon phrasing it… Then, perhaps Loki would be more willing to share.

As it was, however, he finished cutting through the bonds without another word—and without Fandral's help.

"Ah!" Fandral sighed in sheer relief. "Now, that's much better. Though, I still think it would've been done sooner if you'd let me have one of your—"

Attempting to stand had been their first mistake. Halfway up, Loki felt a hard tug on his wrist. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor again, his head colliding with Fandral's in a dizzying display of idiocy.

"What in Helheim…?" While Fandral muttered curses to the air, Loki clutched his throbbing head.

What in Helheim, indeed.

"What happened?" It was certainly a more mature question than "Why is your head so hard?" But even as Loki said it, the gravity of their situation dawned on him.

The ropes hadn't been the only thing restraining them. Around their wrists ran a single chain, only about an arm's breadth in length.

Oh, you've got to be kidding.

Fandral let out a sound of disgust before holding his hand up… which in turn, jerked Loki's arm backward faster than he could protest the movement. "What a great time to be right-handed."

"This might come as a surprise to you," Loki ground out, trying to pull his hand back into a more comfortable position—Fandral was stronger than he looked, the fool—"but most beings are right-handed. Unless you thought you were something special…"

"Hey, at least I'm not the one who's always trying so hard."

Though the words gave their intended sting, Loki refused to acknowledge them. Not now. Now's not the time.

Gritting his teeth, Loki forced himself to breathe. "I thought we were escaping. Or have you given up on that idea entirely?"

"Right. Follow my lead."

As the two struggled to stand, Loki wondered if it would've been far less painful to simply wait for Thor to come rescue them. After all, his brother was out there right now scouring the Svartálfheim mountains for them.

Unless, of course, he wasn't. Perhaps the others had gotten themselves captured as well. If that was the case, escape would definitely be their best option.

If they could just succeed in such a menial task as getting up off the floor…

"I said follow my lead!" Fandral snapped.

"If I did that, we'd never get anywhere!"

"You say that like we're making progress!" With a huff, Fandral ceased his struggle. "All right, look: we go on the count of three."

"Fine."

"One, two, three!"

It truly seemed a miracle that Loki found himself upright and steady on his feet.

Finally.

"Since we don't know what they want with us," Fandral began, "I suggest we find a way out of here as soon as possible."

For once, Loki could only nod. Because he was a prince of Asgard. He knew why the elves had taken him captive.

It's not their fault you're the easiest of the group to capture.

Oh, please. They caught Fandral, too.

And that makes you feel better how…?

Right. Never mind.

Their cell was—predictably—locked, so Loki conjured his daggers once more.

"When you're done picking that lock, want to try your hand at these?" Fandral held up his wrist and shook it, jarring Loki's progress.

He bit out a curse that would've appalled his mother., but he would feel guilty about that later. When they were free. "If you could stop being a complete imbecile for just a moment, I could get us out of here. And in case you haven't noticed, the cuffs don't seem to have any keyholes."

Now, it was Fandral's turn to curse, so Loki blocked him out. He needed quiet—he needed to concentrate.

"You've never done this before, have you?" And he supposed that was Fandral's not-so-subtle assessment of his work so far. "Oh, Norns… I'm going to die on Svartálfheim because the Master of Tricks doesn't know how to pick a simple lock!"

"If you would stop running your mouth," Loki bit back, "I could concentra—"

A sharp click pierced the air and Loki tried not to show his exhilaration. Honestly, he hadn't thought that would work.

A smug face turned toward Fandral, who merely rolled his eyes. "Fine. Good for you. Let's just get out of here, okay?"

I never stopped trying.

And that's how Loki found himself following Fandral through endless dark corridors, and up and down spiraling staircases. Perhaps follow is too generous a word… Dragged is more like it. It felt as though Fandral had dragged him across every inch of the elven stronghold.

"We're getting nowhere with you in the lead," Loki panted when they finally stopped for a breather behind a thick pillar. "I'm sure I can get us out of here much better than you."

"Are you kidding me?" Fandral let out a snort that sent indignant shivers down Loki's spine. "You couldn't even find your way out of the forests of Vanaheim!"

Loki went to cross his arms, only to get his left one immediately pulled back. Right.

"Curse these chains!" Fandral hissed, mostly to himself, it seemed. "You're sure you can't—?"

"No. I can't even find my way out of a forest, remember?" At this, Fandral gave another eyeroll, a gesture Loki was tiring of quickly. "You've already proved you can't get us out of here. At least let me try."

Fandral worked his jaw, but nodded. Slowly.

Finally.

I'll show you who can't find their way out of a forest, Loki grumbled to himself as he led the way down the next hall. Besides, that was a long, long time ago.

Then again, Thor's companions couldn't seem to forget many of Loki's shortcomings. It was as if they held onto them as tightly as they could—just because they could.

Idiots, the lot of them.

Fate chose that moment to be ironic, sending a dagger flying mere inches by Loki's head as he pulled Fandral around the corner. It landed with a dull thunk, lodging itself in the wall and freezing Loki's steps in the process.

"The prisoners have escaped!"

And just who is the idiot now, hmm?

Oh, shut up.

"Great job," Fandral quipped, dodging another flying dagger. "You led us right into an ambush!"

"How was I supposed to know they would be here?" Loki snapped back, after taking a second to conjure a couple daggers of his own.

"Oh, I don't know." The elves were nearly on top of them now. It was either flight or fight, and Loki was certain they wouldn't be able to outrun the light-footed creatures. "Maybe because we're in an elven castle?"

Right…

"Quick!" Fandral grabbed Loki's hand. "Lend me one of your daggers."

"What? No! You won't—"

"Loki! We are running out of time!"

Time. Of course. They always seemed to be running out of time, didn't they?

"You won't take good care of it."

"My mother gave them to me."

"I can't lose them."

Each was a valid response, but Loki knew none of them would stand up against Fandral's impatience. Besides, they might not be able to outrun the beasts, but if they were both armed, they stood a good chance of taking the elves down in a fight.

Gritting his teeth so hard they hurt, Loki shoved his second dagger toward the man. "Fine. Just be careful with it."

Fandral flashed one of those annoying grins. "When am I ever careless?"

"Oh, don't even get me started…"

Though both were more than capable warriors, the elves had them beat in numbers. They just seemed to keep coming from every which way, and Loki knew he and Fandral would soon be overpowered. Even with the addition of his magic, they were playing a losing game.

We haven't lost yet.

"When I give the signal," Loki hissed as he slit the throat of an oncoming villain, "grab my arm and hold on tight!"

The spell was still new and he'd never done it with two people before, but Loki felt certain he could pull it off. He had to.

"Are you insane?" Though they were fighting back-to-back, Loki could tell by the grunt that Fandral had taken down another elf as well. "You think I'm going to just stop fighting so I can hold your hand?"

"My arm! And you'll do it if you want to live! You do want to live, don't you?"

Loki didn't wait for a reply. After gutting another elf, he began to cast his spell. Mother had said he was a natural when it came to sorcery. He could do this. I can do this…

Three… two… Loki swallowed. It's now or never.

"All right, now!"

For one brief, terrifying second, Loki feared Fandral would ignore him, as was his wont to do. Sparkling flecks of gold gathered around him. Come on, it's now or nev—

The moment Fandral's free hand locked around his bicep, a searing pain tore through his side. Loki had neither the breath support nor the time to cry out before the scenery changed in a bright flash of green.

The teleportation spell whisked them to a small, unknown corner of the stronghold. Despite being mostly devoid of light, the space also lacked inhabitants.

They were alone at last.

Seeing as the danger had passed for the time being, Loki let his legs buckle, dragging both him and Fandral to the floor.

"Loki, what the—?" Anxiety pierced his hammering heart at the sound of Fandral's sharp inhale. "Oh… your brother's going to kill me…"

That's when Loki noticed the blood. It clung to his fingers as fiercely as he'd clung to his side, out of which the thick liquid oozed freely.

Stabbed. He'd gotten himself stabbed.

Idiot! I thought you were smarter than that!

Apparently not…

He was vaguely aware of Fandral guiding him back against the wall and holding him upright so he wouldn't crumple into a heap. Blood. He was losing too much—

A muted tear echoed throughout the crevice-like chamber and Loki glanced up at the sound, ripping his gaze away from the bloody hole in his side.

Fandral's tunic was shorter in length now, a long strip of fabric balled up in his hands.

"We have to stop the blood flow," was all he said by way of explanation before pressing the ball against Loki's wound.

Biting down until his tongue bled was the only way to keep the screams at bay. It's not that Fandral wasn't being gentle—in fact, Loki couldn't remember ever seeing the warrior have a gentler touch—it was simply the pain. It burned and tore at Loki's flesh until he was certain it would consume him.

Silence hung low and thick for a few moments until Fandral saw fit to break it. "How did you do that?"

"What?" Loki responded through clenched teeth. Of all Thor friends, Fandral was the one in front of whom Loki refused to show any weakness. If he did, he'd never hear the end of it.

Fandral readjusted the makeshift gauze. "One minute, we were fighting for our lives, and the next, we just… weren't. What did you do?"

"What did it look like I did?" His breath hitched, almost as if reprimanding him for his sarcasm. "Teleportation…" Breathe. Just breathe— "It was just… just a simple teleportation spell."

Though Loki could tell Fandral was trying to keep his expression passive, his efforts were in vain, and Loki couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of satisfaction at the subtle awe reflected on the man's face.

"Well," Fandral said once he'd recovered his voice, "that would've come in handy forever ago."

"I just learned it, what did you expect?"

Fandral shrugged, but said nothing, turning his attention back to the gaping wound.

"It's not slowing down…"

Loki didn't realize he'd been zoning out until Fandral's tone pulled him back to the present. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, the blood is coming out faster than I can keep it in." Another curse soured the air. "Thor is going to kill me."

"Oh please," Loki drawled in a last ditch effort to keep his mind off the nagging pain. "If my brother kills anyone, it's going to be me." I'm the one who couldn't defend myself.

"Or your mother. Your mother could kill me, too."

"She would never." And Norns! Why was it becoming so difficult to think? "She likes you too much."

Fandral's brows furrowed at this. "Really?"

"She said—" He couldn't hold back the hiss as Fandral tore a fresh cloth and applied pressure to the wound.

"Sorry. Just don't think about it. Come on, what does she say about me?"

Though his head felt light, Loki followed Fandral's instructions and kept his mind off the pain with small talk. "She says you're… That of all Th-Thor's friends, you're the most interesting."

"Really? She said that?"

"Yes. It's quite annoying, honestly. Why—gah!—Why do you s-sound so surprised?"

At this, Fandral shrugged again. "I always thought I irritated her."

"You confuse my mother with me."

"Right. Well, the feeling is mutual."

The silence returned after that, and for reasons Loki couldn't decipher, it felt very uncomfortable. As if they should be talking—or something.

Why had he insisted upon joining Thor on this stupid quest? It wasn't even a real quest, just an excuse to go gallivanting through the thick forests of Svartálfheim in search of—

What had they been after again? Loki couldn't even remember now. Whatever it was, it was stupid.

Fandral's hissed curses were becoming worrisome. While his mother had always taught them that the use of foul language was a sign of a sparse vocabulary, Loki knew it also signified a growing desperation in a normally fearless individual.

"What…" Air. He needed air. Breathe, you idiot! "What's wrong…?"

"I don't know." Fandral's voice was strained nearly beyond recognition. "I think they nicked an artery. Maybe."

Loki felt all the color drain from his cheeks. He was going to be sick…

"Can't you, I don't know, heal yourself, or something?"

Could he? Loki's foggy mind told him this was something he could do, but it failed to explain the necessary steps to him.

"Use your magic! Something! Conjure enough cloth for me to wrap your wound." It sounded like a command. A desperate command.

"I can't just… create anything I-I want out… out of th-thin air! I can only get what I've stored in my cache and…" And what?

Nothing. He had nothing of use. From this point on, Loki swore he was never going to leave home without the proper medical supplies tucked away in his magical pockets.

If you survive this, of course.

Oh, of course.

Fandral's voice was breathy now, the perfect picture of despair. A picture Loki didn't care to look at, so he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Oh, Norns! You brother's going to kill me!"

"Stop saying that, will you?" Loki paused to catch his breath as the pain continued to eat away at his insides. "This isn't your fault. It's not as if you were the one who stabbed me." Not physically, anyway. But verbally? Oh, please, like you haven't taken a few shots yourself.

"I was supposed to look after you, though," Fandral admitted. "Oh, why in Helheim did we have to split up?"

"Wait a second," Loki began, his words slow and calculating. "Thor told you to… to babysit me?"

"Not in so many words, but… Well, yeah."

"Why? Did he instruct the others to do the same?"

"… Yes." At least Fandral had the decency to look ashamed. "Look, it was a long time ago, all right? He only asked that we keep an eye out for you and make sure you stay safe on our adventures. That's it."

"A long time ago," Loki muttered. "Yet, it seems you're still… still doing it."

Another shrug. "I suppose we just never stopped."

Getting worked up would only increase the blood flow, so Loki tried his best to remain calm. To just breathe.

Breathe…

Frustration quickly dissolved as he tilted his head back against the wall, making room for the first tendrails of disappointment. Of defeat.

"He knows…" Closing his eyes, Loki swallowed. "He knows I'm not a child anymore."

Fandral's voice was soft now, softer than Loki had ever heard it before. "Perhaps so. But I don't think that stopped him from caring about your wellbeing."

The only response Loki could give was a small hum. In truth, the words made him miss his brother. He wanted Thor—needed Thor, though he would never admit it. Imagine, bleeding out and only having Fandral for company.

"Do you…?" Loki let out another hiss, then bit his tongue for a moment, waiting for the pain to lessen. "Do you really think I t-try too hard…?"

He couldn't understand what had prompted him to ask such a question. A less lightheaded Loki would've kept his mouth shut.

When Fandral made no reply, Loki opened his eyes and met the man's gaze, almost daring Fandral to be the first to look away.

"A little."

I knew it. Taking his own dare, Loki glanced down at the floor.

"Volstagg says," Fandral continued, "you only do it because you're trying to keep up with the rest of us."

"I don't need to keep up with anyone. I'm tiers above the rest of you."

"And," Fandral went on with a knowing sigh, "Hogun thinks you're just trying to impress everyone."

"I'm not—" Another pain drenched gasp gave Fandral more time to speak.

"Sif says you're an attention-seeker. But Thor says… Well, he says you only want to be included."

Oh.

The area felt almost numb now and Loki was sure that wasn't a good thing. As the silence reared its ugly head again, Fandral busied himself by tearing both sleeves off his tunic, along with another strip of the bottom half. For a moment, Loki simply watched as he tied the ends of the two sleeves together, then wadded up the other piece.

"What do you say?"

"What?" Fandral never took his focus off his work, wrapping the longer stretch of fabric around Loki's waist and securing it against the ball of cloth and the wound.

"You—ah!—told me what everyone else th-thinks. What about you?"

For a long moment, Fandral appeared thoughtful. "I don't know. I guess I would agree with Thor… if you weren't so snippy all the time."

"If I'm snippy, it's your fault. You all say such mean things."

"Hey, so do you."

"Fine. Everyone does. And i-isn't it just so much fun to go on quests together where the only one who i-isn't an absolute bildgesnipe is Thor?"

"All I'm saying is that you don't always have to be so insulting."

"And you don't always have to be so patronizing!"

This new silence felt normal. It was the silence that settled after a particularly biting volley of insults. Normally, it made Loki feel accomplished, satisfied that he'd earned the attention—however negative it might be—of one of his brother's companions.

Now, he just felt sick to his stomach. From the look on Fandral's face, the warrior was feeling something similar.

It took a few moments, but Fandral broke the silence again with a sigh. "Let's just get out of here. That should hold for a while. Maybe."

"Right."

Trying to stand proved a nearly impossible task. Loki couldn't hold himself up on his own, and due to the chain, Fandral couldn't maneuver into a position stable enough to hold him upright.

It was after their third attempt had landed them on the ground that Loki heard it: the distant footfalls.

"They're coming," he whispered, putting Fandral instantly on the alert.

"Quick, your dagger!" Fandral held out an expectant hand.

"Where's the one I gave you?"

A look of momentary hesitation danced across the young warrior's face before he shook it away. "I'll need both if I'm going to fend them off. You're in no condition to fight."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "You lost it, didn't you?"

"Okay! So, I dropped it when we air-dropped out of there, or whatever you call it! I'll get you a new one when this is all over, but right now, we don't have time to argue!"

"You can't just get me a new one! That was a gift from my mother! And you…" Why was his head spinning? Too much blood. You're losing too much…

The door burst open and Loki felt Fandral tense before moving in front of him. He kept his eyes open just long enough to watch Thor rush to his side.

Thor…

Then, the darkness devoured him.

Later, when Loki awoke in the healing chambers of Asgard, he noticed two very important things: Thor sat at his side, awake and clutching his hand…

… And his second dagger lay on the small table near his head. The blade shone clear and bright, sporting not a single drop of blood.

Underneath it sat a note, one Loki read while Thor went to fetch their mother.

"Your mother believes you a capable warrior, and now, so do I.

~ A Friend."

And for the first time since their quest had begun, Loki smiled.