A/N: So I've had the worst writer's block on this. Typically I just bust through it, but I've been very distracted by an original character lately. Well, two. You can blame them.

Part Five.

Loki hated the sensation that always accompanied falling. There was a certain loss of control with it, a flailing and often a short, surprised cry that left unbidden from his throat. Whereas on the ground he had control of his movements and his footing was sure, midair his thoughts scrambled and it was all he could do to pull together his wits to release a spell to cushion the descent.

He lost sight of Thor as they landed, the thunderer having hit straight into one of the large, angry bilgesnipe and taking it to the rocky ground with him. Loki rolled when he hit, the breath knocked out of him and he gave a small, choked gasp against the rush of pain that the unyielding floor brought on. He blinked, darkness surrounding him and he could hear the angry growls of creatures that had had their home invaded.

Thor's cry broke through the growls and Loki sat up, green eyes wide and his forgotten ball of light burst from nothing with a whispered spell, washing the entire cavern in it. The bilgesnipe howled and Loki saw his brother with a dazed expression off to the side, two of the beasts downed near him, thought one looked to have caught him with either tooth or claw across his arm, leaving it bleeding. He blinked at the light and then looked for what he had been missing, calling the fallen Mjolnir to his hand and slamming it straight into the snout of a rampaging bilgesnipe, back in the battle.

Loki watched his brother fight, holding his end of the bargain. They seemed drawn to him and he seemed highly entertained by the fact. If he were not so talented in pummeling, his younger brother might have thought him mad with his wide smile at the idea of three coming at him at once, but Loki had seen it time and time again in different scenarios. Though he often spoke of it with sharp, unforgiving words, he couldn't help but feel a bit of pride in his brother's strength. He smiled to himself as he thought of Thor's own certainty that Loki could and would catch them with his own talents. Strange, how much they mocked each other for their strengths and weaknesses, and yet had come to rely on one another for them.

The trickster's thoughts were cut short when he realized that not all of the beasts had been as distracted by Thor as he had first thought. One thick, knotted tail swooped around, catching him square in the chest and throwing him back into the wall. He hit hard and he saw dark spots dance across his vision. He blinked against them moving just as the creature came back at him. He dodged, leaving a weak imitation of himself to take the blow, but it did not fool the bilgesnipe for long and it barreled at him again, growling lowly.

He didn't see the one that came around his back until he felt its hot breath on him. It snapped its large jaws closed, ripping at the dark haired prince's tunic as he stumbled forward, panic making him clumsy. With the constant use of his magic, he'd drained himself, leaving his spells weak and even when he tried to let loose an attack it seemed to only further aggravate the two that had set their eyes on him.

Loki thought he heard his brother call to him, but his mind was fully occupied by the fact that he'd been lifted into the air by one of the pair of antlers, tossed like a ragdoll. He hit the ground and didn't have time to scramble up before another slammed into him, rolling him and one large, clawed foot crashed into him. He heard himself make a small sound, but he was pinned and all he could do was stare up at the growling beast above him.

"Loki!" Thor called out.

Green eyes flickered in the direction of the voice and he whispered his brother's name, not quite able to get enough air through his lungs to make the word audible. Mjolnir slammed into the bilgesnipe, nearly picking the thing up off the ground with the force and the pain hit him as if he'd been the one struck.

Thor was at his side in an instant, hand surprisingly gentle as he pushed back dark hair. Loki squinted in the darkness, but found that his lighting spell had not gone out entirely. He tried to offer a smile, to tell him that he hadn't been entirely crushed and that he'd be alright once he got his breath back, but the look on his brother's face said that he wouldn't be so easily swayed. "I'm fine," he said at last.

The blond was chewing at his bottom lip, a worried expression he had when he was cornered into making a quick decision that he knew had weighty consequences.

"Thor, I'm alright," Loki tried again, reaching a hand up to his brother's face. It was heavier than it should have been, and the thunderer caught it mid way, squeezing the fingers briefly before looking about. The bilgesnipe that were left were few, but they were not happy.

"Listen closely, brother and please do not argue. I'm going to bring the ceiling down around them and I'm going to carry you out. Don't struggle against it, do you promise?"

The younger prince shot him an indignant look. "I will not be carried out like a girl!"

"You won't make it to your feet," Thor whispered, blue eyes pleading.

Loki looked ready to argue again, but instead followed his brother's worried gaze. The heaviness against his chest suddenly made sense. He hadn't even realized that one of the claws had torn into him, pulling at fabric and skin alike and leaving his tunic soaked in blood. It was everywhere, and it was a wonder that he was conscious at all. He hadn't realized he had been numb to it, but when his eyes caught sight of the damage all of that numbness wore away and the pain hit him in a rush. His hand went immediately to the wound and he felt what strength he had leave him.

Thor was already standing, Mjolnir clutched in his hand and electricity building around him. Thunder could be heard even outside of the cavern and he said a silent prayer as he brought it crashing down.

The ceiling shattered and the god of thunder scooped his trickster brother up, doing his best to ignore the pained noise. Loki went limp almost instantly and Thor took off for the hole in the wall. It was close, and he could smell the fresh air even as they sprinted towards it. Howls followed him, but he was smaller and faster, even with his light load in his arms. He held the younger prince close dodging pieces of falling rock and leapt to avoid the exit caving in. He turned midair and slid on his back, Loki cradled close to his chest and he lay there, breathing heavily in the silence that followed.

All he had wanted was a quiet day in the library, surrounded by his books and his thoughts and all that he could learn. It was one day out of one hundred years, and it was supposed to be the day that no one should ask that he bend his own will to them.

And yet Thor had and look where it had gotten them.

The thunderer felt tears threaten and he pushed them back. He was much too old to cry, though he thought that if anyone deserved his tears it was his younger brother. He had finally made his way to his feet, Loki's stillness worrying him enough that he had had to check. The dark haired prince had gone pale, but he was breathing and his pulse was steady enough that Thor wasn't in a panic yet. So he gathered him up, careful and strangely gentle with him and limped his way away from the destruction.

The air was heavy around them, thick with heat and moisture. Both boys were covered in blood and grime from everything that had happened and the elder prince gave a snort of a laugh when he saw a thin stream trickling down through the woods. "I'd say we're close by your waters, brother," he whispered, but received no reaction.

Thor trudged on until he found a place that he felt was safe enough to lower his brother down and check the injuries. Loki gave the smallest of moans as large hands started pulled at the fabric that had begun to dry with the blood. He didn't want to reopen the wound, but leaving it unattended to completely was dangerous. "Easy, Loki," the elder prince soothed as he worked the tunic away, grimacing at the nasty gash that ran deep and long. His brother's life blood was still escaping from the injury and the thunderer forced himself to stay calm and think. Loki would be able to think his way through it and they were of the same family. Surely he could too if he just tried.

"I won't let you die," he swore, leaning down and placing a quick kiss to Loki's brow before he stood and pulled his vest from his shoulders. He knelt by the bit of water - if he were to guess they were near the end of where it flowed, following up towards the center where Loki had had his heart set on reaching just hours before - and soaked the vest as much as the shallow water would allow. It washed the dirt away, leaving it clean enough for his purpose. He returned to his brother's side and knelt, cleaning the dirt and blood away as gently as he could.

Green eyes fluttered open, pained and unclear. They stared up at Thor and he offered a thin smile, still working on cleaning the injury. "Almost done," the elder brother assured the younger.

"Got me pretty good, didn't he?" Loki managed and let his eyes slip closed. "Told you… it never fails. We weren't even looking… found us anyway."

"I'm sorry, brother."

Thin lips tugged upward and Loki reached out clumsily to take hold of his brother's arm after about the second failed try. "Not your fault."

"But it is. I had you come out and I-"

Loki tensed and Thor pulled the blood-soaked vest away immediately. He'd cleaned most of the wound as best as he could, and he had to admit it looked better. He didn't think it was bleeding quite as freely now and though it seemed to pain him, his brother hadn't lost consciousness again. "Thor?"

"I'm here, brother."

"You found the stream?"

"The end of it, I'd imagine."

"Smarter… than I give you credit for," the god of mischief managed, and when his elder brother gave him a look of utter confusion, he smiled once more. "If we can find the source… If we can find the pond I might just survive this."

TBC

A/N: So I'm not what you'd call a good cook. I can, if I must, but nothing fancy, so I've been trying to branch out more. Tonight was chicken croquettes. At least that's what they were meant to be. I'm not entirely sure what they were in the end... I feel like it's a good thing that my dream job as a child was never to be a chef. I would have been very disappointed with life.