Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel-characters!

AN: I bring a new chapter! I changed the rating back to T since most of you think this story isn't that bad. I'm very relieved about that! Anyway, thanks for all the reviews! I am looking forward to reading your thoughts on the next installment… Enjoy!

~ Fields of Blood ~

Chapter 4

The smell of blood and sweat filled the air.

Loki focused on that and he didn't even know why. At this point, he would do anything to keep his mind occupied. Too bad he was failing. He could never stop his thoughts from drifting back to the pain he was currently experiencing; that horrible, all-consuming, never-ending pain. His back felt like it was on fire.

Flames licked his skin.

He wondered if the pain was supposed to stay this intense. Surely more than twelve hours had passed since he had received the whipping. It might be longer since Loki had drifted in and out of consciousness for the first few hours.

He no longer dared to move. If he even thought about flexing one muscle, he could already feel a thousand daggers penetrate the skin of his back. No, he forced himself to lie absolutely still.

Footsteps sounded outside. Loki widened his eyes and prayed for those footsteps to fade away again.

The sound of metal could be heard and a moment later, the heavy cell door opened.

Loki ignored his own don't-move-rule and pushed himself into a sitting position. He would have backed away if the pain hadn't been so completely overwhelming. A groan escaped his lips and he wanted to lie back down. He wanted to fall asleep and forget about the world.

"It's all right," the newly arrived man said, "I won't hurt you."

Loki eyed him skeptically. The metal door of his cell fell shut, locking both men inside for now. Loki had never seen this man before. He appeared to be about the same age as his father. He had thin brown hair that was starting to grey around his ears. His sharp blue eyes betrayed no emotions, but he was smiling. Several scars adorned his smooth, oily face.

Could this be the lord those three savages had mentioned? His clothes were certainly fit for a lord. The man wore a plain white, linen shirt and golden trousers. Around his left pink, he wore a sterling silver signet ring. It had the image of a snake.

"I brought you this," the man said. Only now did Loki see what he was carrying. In his left hand, he held a large glass of milk and his right hand a bowl of what appeared to be warm porridge.

Loki's stomach growled with eager anticipation. It had been days since he had eaten anything and the last water he drank had been poisoned. That could not have been healthy either. But why should he trust this man or that food? He certainly didn't want to experience those dreadful hallucinations again.

"You must be hungry, Loki," the man said when Loki didn't reply, "and I am offering you a warm and delicious meal."

Loki swallowed heavily. He told himself to stay quiet. For the most part, he just wanted to be left alone. He was exhausted and he was in pain. He wanted to drift off into a sleep and never wake up.

"Oh, I understand," the man continued, his eyes widening with realization, "I assure you, Loki, that none of this is poisoned. I will prove it."

Loki watched the man take a sip from the milk before eating a spoonful of porridge. He then placed it near Loki and backed away. Clearly he wanted to give him a sense of safety. A smile spread across the man's face and even though it never reached his eyes, it was the kindest thing Loki had experienced in days.

With shaking, bound hands, he reached for the food. He didn't bother with manners and ate the bowl empty in a matter of seconds. It was indeed delicious. Loki quickly drank the milk. He didn't know why he hurried like this. Perhaps he feared the man would take it away from him before he got to finish it as another means of torture.

But he had eaten and at least his stomach didn't ache anymore.

The man took the empty bowl and empty glass and walked back to the metal door. Loki watched him scrupulously. The door opened, but the man did not leave. He handed over the bowl and glass and when he turned to face Loki again, he was holding a much larger bowl, a small flask and a clean piece of cloth. The door closed behind him again.

Loki swallowed heavily. What was going to happen now?

"You have serious injuries on your back," the man said, looking at Loki with a steady gaze, "if we don't clean those cuts, they will surely infect."

Loki didn't think it was possible to be in more pain than he was in now.

"You know my name," he spoke for the first time, finding his voice hoarse, "but I don't know yours."

The man's smile never faltered. "I am lord Sigdanson," he explained, "Arta Sigdanson and I have no intention of hurting you. Let me take care of your back, Loki."

Loki doubted he had much of a choice in the end. Arta stepped towards him and Loki remained sitting still. He eyed Arta cautiously and when he sat down beside him, Loki swallowed heavily. He simply did not trust any of this. For all he knew, this was another elaborate trick and in a few moments' time, he would scream his lungs out again.

Arta dipped the cloth into the clean water and pressed it against Loki's back.

Loki hissed, but he didn't pull away.

"I know it hurts," Arta said. His voice was soft and kind. Loki couldn't wrap his head around it. "I have got to clean these deep cuts though, so keep still."

Loki couldn't tell how many minutes passed by, but eventually Arta put aside the now pink water and bloodied cloth. Loki felt sick when he saw his own blood. He normally didn't have any trouble seeing blood, but everything was changing now. Arta took the small flask and before Loki understood what would happen, he felt two fingers carefully apply a thick, cold ointment on his wounds.

The pain eased instantly.

Loki closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Arta asked while he continued to apply the ointment.

Loki lowered his head and saw the rope around his wrists. The skin underneath was red and raw, but it didn't hurt. At least, he thought it didn't hurt. For the moment all he could feel were the cuts on his back.

"I don't know why you bother with this rope," Loki said softly, his eyes focusing on the small runes woven into the rope. He prayed that his comment would not set Arta off into a fit of rage or something. Truth be told, Loki had no idea how to handle the situation. Perhaps he should just keep his mouth shut.

"It is to suppress your magic," Arta answered indifferently.

Loki didn't understand. "All I can do is float a coin," he said, frowning slightly. He was hardly a threat when it came to magic. He couldn't even use it yet in battle. "And I can turn water into snakes, but even that is just an illusion that breaks after a few seconds. I'm still learning."

"Exactly," Arta replied, still gently rubbing ointment into Loki's wounds, "you are indeed still learning. You have a natural talent for magic. I am sure you know magic is connected to one's mind and body. It is fueled by emotions. The stronger you experience something, the stronger your magic will be and I am aware that your emotions are probably all over the place right now."

Loki couldn't deny that. He had never been in such distress before, both mentally and physically, so he couldn't know how powerful his magic could be. He swallowed heavily and accepted the idea that his hands would not be untied.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked with a weak voice. "Why do you torture me only to show me kindness now?" His voice began to tremble the more he spoke. Tears came back to his eyes though he didn't know why. This was the best he had felt in days. Again he was reminded of Arta's comment: his emotions were indeed a mess at this moment.

"Are you not grateful?"

"I am," Loki answered quickly, "I just don't understand."

"I am sorry about the torture, Loki," Arta explained, "but it was necessary. I warned your father about this, but he still refuses to cooperate."

"My father?" Loki was confused. What did Odin suddenly have to do with this?

"I gave him a choice," Arta said, "your life in exchange for the Infinity Gauntlet."

Loki swallowed heavily. It was clear what Odin had chosen.

"Odin isn't handing it over," Arta said regretfully, "he chooses his own safety over yours. No matter how much you get tortured, I won't get the Gauntlet. Truth be told, I no longer want it. Not like this anyway. I'll find another way or I'll find another artifact."

"Why do you want it?" Loki knew he shouldn't be posing so many questions. He didn't know if Arta would appreciate it and the last thing he wanted was to make him angry. He didn't want to be tortured again! The thought alone made him shiver. Pain shot through his entire body, but he grit his teeth together and refused to make any sound.

"It doesn't matter why I wanted it," Arta answered kindly, waving away the question. He put the flask down and cleaned his hands with a handkerchief. "There, your back should feel better now. I'll have someone bring you a new, fresh shirt as well since the one you're wearing is so torn."

The more Arta spoke, the more confused Loki felt. Clearly he wasn't planning on letting him go.

"You're not going to let me go," he said. His voice was filled with apathy. It had been more a statement than a question. "So what are you going to do with me? I have nothing to offer you."

Arta gazed directly into Loki's cautious, green eyes. "It is all right, Loki," he said, "for now, I just want to talk."

~ 0 ~

Frustration flowed through Thor's veins. For hours he had been looking for a trail with the Warriors Three and Lady Sif. He was looking for a sign of life. He was also looking for proof that his brother was still alive. It became increasingly difficult to believe in this since he found nothing. There was hardly any sign of life in this part of the forest.

He hoped the other forty guards had more luck than him. Perhaps they had found a lead on Arta? Thor somehow doubted it. This man was clever and he wouldn't be caught easily. Thor simply had to be persistent. He could not give up on his brother.

He growled with irritation. In about two hours, the sun would set and finding a trail would prove to be impossible then. That would also mean they would have to wait a whole night before they could continue their search. Thor hated that thought and he hated the idea of his brother in Arta's hands for another night.

"Thor, look at this," Fandral said. He pointed towards a patch of brown grass. "This spot has been trampled. Clearly someone spent a lot of time here, waiting for something or observing something."

Hope fluttered alive within Thor. "Arta's men must have done that," he said, "which means we are going in the right direction."

A twig snapped to their left. It had become such a familiar and foreboding sound. A few weeks ago, Thor would have thought nothing of it. He would have attributed it to an animal, but today he knew it meant something else entirely.

His eyes quickly scanned the area. It was difficult to see anything in this dense part of the forest, but then his gaze landed on a pair of intense, brown eyes. Thor didn't hesitate and ran forward. Whoever had been hiding from them jumped up and fled.

The Warriors Three and Lady Sif instantly pursued the stranger as well.

The man was quick on his feet and he clearly knew the forest well, but Thor was stubborn and he did not let the man out of his sight. He had no choice after all. Thor needed to capture him since he could obviously lead them to Arta and Loki. That man worked for Arta after all, Thor could tell by the way he was dressed. He even looked as savage as the men who had attacked them days before. That man was probably the one that had to wait for someone to bring the Infinity Gauntlet to them.

Luck truly was on their side today, Thor thought.

He didn't know how long he chased the man, but eventually he lost sight of him. Thor kept on running, however, desperate to find him again.

After a five minute run, he reached a large patch of open ground in the middle of the forest. About ten yards ahead stood an old fort made entirely out of stone. It was in terrible condition and the east wing had collapsed years ago. Thor could tell since flowers now grew on the broken stones. The grass around the fort had been trampled indicating that someone lived inside. He instantly thought of Arta.

It was then that Thor knew he would find Loki inside.

He would save his brother.