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

AN: Thank you for the reviews! Reading your theories was very interesting. Stay tuned and you will find out what it all means! Let me know what you think of chapter six and I'll try and update as soon as possible.

~ Fields of Blood ~

Chapter 6

Loki observed everything scrupulously when he walked out of his small cell. He had only been in there for a few days, but it certainly felt longer. For the first time since long, he felt he could breathe again, though the air was warm and moist. Still, Loki enjoyed his newfound freedom and a faint, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips upwards. He hadn't thought someone could enjoy freedom this much.

The hallway just outside of his cell was empty. Something felt wrong. For the past few days, there had always been someone outside of his cell. Where was everybody? Loki remembered the fighting and he wondered if Thor had killed everyone.

One quick glance at his brother told him enough. Thor was covered in blood, something Loki hadn't noticed before. Then again, he wasn't quite in his right mind. The pain, hunger and thirst clouded him and his mind appeared to be working at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Have you killed Arta?" He heard himself ask. He hadn't even meant to pose that question out loud. His voice was hoarse and betrayed how tired he was.

"We haven't seen him," Thor answered, barely noticing the horrible condition of his brother. He took big, confident steps as he walked to the other end of the hallway. He began to ascend a long, spiraling staircase and nearly ran up the steps. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif quickly followed. In a matter of seconds they stood at the top.

Loki inhaled deeply, discovering that doing so hurt. It was a result of getting kicked so furiously during the first day of his imprisonment. He began to ascend the stairs as well, but he couldn't go very fast. He hated that he was slowing the others down and he refused to look at them. He didn't want to see their impatient or worried gazes.

"Are you all right, Loki?" Sif asked.

"I'm fine," he answered, already sounded out of breath. It cost him much effort to reach the final step, but he didn't show any weakness or pain. He had acted ridiculous enough back in his cell. The other probably thought he had gone crazy. No, Loki thought, I have to stay strong. He kept his face neutral.

"I wish Arta had still been here," Thor said crossly as he looked deep in thought. He started walking, barely waiting for Loki to catch his breath. He clearly appeared angry that Arta had slipped through his fingers. "He probably ran the moment he saw us coming."

Loki stared at his brother's back. Did Thor truly believe such a ridiculous idea?

"Could you blame Arta?" Fandral asked almost jokingly. "Even I had never seen Thor so furious. You should have seen him, Loki, he looked very frightening."

Loki said nothing, though he supposed he should feel grateful that Thor acted so protective of him. He didn't think Thor had ever shown so much concern for him. Then again, was it not Thor's fault that this had happened in the first place? Perhaps he was simply acting out of guilt, not out of love.

In the end, Loki didn't feel anything really. Yes, he was grateful his brother had freed him, but what else did he feel? Relief? Elation? Hope? Loki wasn't sure if he could ever experience happiness again, not while he could barely breathe and while his back was killing him. No, the dark clouds looming over him were not gone yet. Not by a long shot.

"And where are Arta's followers?" He asked, wanting to keep his mind occupied for now. He shouldn't be focusing on such depressing thoughts.

"The ones that were still present are dead," Thor stated matter-of-factly. His grip on Mjolnir tightened, revealing again how angry he felt.

They passed another hallway and Loki suddenly saw them; dead savages. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared in disbelief. Fandral truly hadn't been kidding when he spoke of how intimidating Thor had appeared. These men had not just been killed, they had been slaughtered. One of them even had his skull split in half.

It was a nauseating sight and Loki quickly averted his gaze. He told himself not to throw up.

"Loki, come on," Thor said when he noticed that his brother was no longer following, "I would like to get out of here."

"Yes," Loki breathed, "me too."

Finally they exited the fort through a small, half destroyed wooden door. Loki had never realized they were still in the forest, but he enjoyed the sight of the green trees. He could breathe a bit better now and the nausea was disappearing. He placed a hand over his chest and inhaled deeply. His chest rose and Loki held his breath for a moment. Yes, he thought, I am going home.

"We have a few more hours before sunset," Thor announced, looking at the sun that was visibly just above the tree-line, "we start walking for now and make up camp when it gets too dark."

"Sounds like a plan," Volstagg replied.

They started walking again.

~ 0 ~

When they had been walking for a little over two hours, Loki had started to feel weak. His legs felt like they were made out of lead and his hands were trembling. He tried to hide it from his brother and their friends, but as time went on, it became increasingly difficult. He had already eaten a piece of bread Thor had given him, but his body was still weak.

Yet Loki refused to rest. He just wanted to go home.

Focusing on the sounds of the forest no longer helped. The chirping of the birds had become annoying and Loki now believed the smell of wet leaves made him sick. A thousand daggers were slicing into the skin of his back and his lungs ached. His breathing grew erratically and there was nothing Loki could do about it.

"Loki, are you all right?" Thor only had concern and compassion in his eyes when he came to walk beside his little brother.

"I'm fine," Loki snapped. He hadn't meant to be so curt, but he truly did dislike the way Thor acted. It was as if nothing had happened, as if he had fixed everything by freeing him. The truth was that Thor fixed absolutely nothing.

"You look rather pale," Thor said, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder. Loki gritted his teeth together, refusing to show that Thor's touch actually hurt him. There wasn't a part of his body that didn't hurt. "Brother, you are barely breathing."

"You should try getting kicked so ferociously that you almost lose consciousness," Loki replied icily. He wanted to quicken his pace and walk away from Thor, but even that was beyond the realm of possibility. "A few of my ribs are probably bruised, one might even be cracked or broken."

"Let me take a look at them," Thor offered, nothing but kindness in his voice, "I might be able to help and-"

"No," Loki quickly interrupted him. The idea of Thor seeing the wounds on his body made him shiver. "No, Thor, you won't touch me. I'm fine, truly I am."

Thor looked uncertain. "Let's make camp for the night then," he said, "with a little rest-"

"Thor." Loki truly hadn't meant to sound so desperate. He cleared his throat and straightened his back. He should not have done that. He winced slightly which earned him another concerned look from Thor. "The sun won't set for another hour. We can still continue to walk for now."

Thor clearly disliked the idea, but Loki ignored the torn expression on his face and stared straight ahead. He just wanted to get home or perhaps he just wanted to get as far away from the fort as possible? Loki didn't know. He only knew he had to keep on walking.

No matter how much his body hurt.

~ 0 ~

The sky above him was completely dark. Thor couldn't find one star and even the moon was covered by a thick layer of clouds. He knew he should be grateful that it wasn't a cold night. One look at Loki and he knew he would barely be able to survive the freezing cold. He seemed so small and fragile. No matter how strong and tough Loki acted, Thor could see straight through his act.

He wished he knew how to handle the situation. Thor never knew what to say or what to do. He wanted to comfort his brother, assure him that he was truly safe now, but how could he achieve that?

Loki was clearly in pain even now that he lay sleeping on his side. Again, Thor wished he could do something to ease his brother's discomfort.

"Thor?"

He hadn't noticed that Sif had woken. He let his gaze slide from Loki towards her. She still appeared sleepy and her black hair was a mess, but Sif wasn't a vain woman. She hardly cared about her looks at this time of the night.

"Have you not slept?" She asked as she came to sit next to him.

"No," Thor answered softly, not wanting to wake anyone, "someone had to keep watch. It turns out that this forest isn't as safe as I believed it was."

"You can catch some sleep now," Sif said, "I'll keep watch for now."

"That is not necessary."

Sif gave Thor a long, intense look. "You can admit the truth to me," she said quietly, "you can admit that you just want to keep an eye on Loki."

Thor couldn't help but stare at his brother's sleeping form. Loki was still breathing with some difficulty and he wore a pained expression on his face, but his muscles seemed relaxed. He supposed that was something.

"I'm worried about him, Sif," Thor admitted reluctantly.

"That's understandable," she replied.

"He looks so…" Thor wasn't sure which word could describe Loki best, "tense. Even now in his sleep he looks like he can't find peace. He even looks ill."

"We can only guess what happened to him exactly," Sif sighed, looking at Loki as well. She and Loki had never been best friends, but they had always respected each other. This might well be the first time she expressed some kind of worry towards him. "He experienced three days of torture. Three days of getting beaten and kicked apparently."

Thor balled his hands into fists. The mere thought of what Arta had done to Loki made him furious.

"Loki needs time," Sif concluded, "and he needs his brother."

She was right. Thor turned to look at her and dared to smile faintly. "At least he is safe now, right?"

"Indeed."

And that was all that mattered at the moment.

~ 0 ~

Arta tapped his fingers on his upper arms. He had expected news a while ago, but no one had come to him yet. He grew impatient which was never a good thing. His irritation grew and for a moment he contemplated on seeking out a messenger himself. How difficult could it be to track a few Asgardians, keep an eye on them and then report back when the time was right?

At least he was home again. That was what he called this place anyway. It was a small house near the border of the forest, but he had lived here for many years now. In this very room, he had planned everything meticulously. He felt rather proud of his work.

He stared out of a small, stained window and looked upon his army of men. He couldn't tell how many there were currently camped outside in tents, but Arta was still impressed with the numbers. It had cost him much effort and money to gather them all, but in the end, it would be worth it. In the end, they would help him get his victory in this long, tiresome game.

There was a short knock on his door and Arta spun around just in time to see Drengr enter. He smiled at the young man and hoped he brought him good news.

"They are camping for the night, my Lord," Drengr said with nothing but respect in his voice, "they'll reach Asgard late in the morning."

That was indeed good news. "Perfect," Arta smiled, "have you any news on Thor?"

"No, my Lord, not particularly," Drengr answered hesitantly, not sure if his answer would please Arta, "he appears to be pleased that he saved his brother. He murdered everyone that was still inside the fort."

Arta huffed softly and turned back to look outside. "Thor is as wild as the stories claim him to be," he said absent-mindedly, "but it matters not what Thor does. Nothing can stop my plan from succeeding. It is time for us to prepare."

Drengr seemed confused. "Prepare, my Lord?"

"Tell the men to ready their weapons," Arta ordered, not bothering to explain everything to Drengr. In the end, he was just an errant boy. Arta couldn't really afford to trust anyone which was something he had learned over the years. "We leave tomorrow and in the end, I will make sure Odin regrets letting me live all those years ago."

AN: Thoughts?