Disclaimer: You think if I wished on a shooting star Marvel would give me this? Yes? Yes? ...No, you're probably right.
A/n: Wow! I hadn't expected such nice reviews in such little time! Thanks, you guys! I've got a major math test tomorrow, so this fanfiction is kind of my escape. That's why I'm updating so fast, FYI. I'm probably not going to be able to do so all the time, so bear with me! In this snippet, you get introduced into a new character OMFG. Now, I'm not all that knowledgeable on Norse mythology, but I do know that Fulla was Frigga's favorite maid. And, dear children, you can take that to the bank.
"And then, out of the deep and dark mists, came a skeletal hand which dragged the mighty warrior back into Hel's domain."
Out of all the things that their Mother's maid, Fulla, could do, Thor had to say that telling scary stories was the best. Each and every word that came out of her mouth wove a wonderfully horrific tale filled with action, jealousy, and fear; three elements that Thor absolutely loved in stories. But the way Fulla told them was different. She told them with a special kind of magic which kept Thor and Loki hanging on each word that graced her lips.
Fulla hadn't originally been sent to Thor's quarters to tell ghost stories. She had been sent to put him to bed. (He really didn't need anyone to put him to bed, he just really, really liked Fulla.) He had already been begging for a story when Loki had come in.
Loki had been put to bed an hour before, but Loki had always been restless when it came to sleep. He was always complaining about something—the room being too hot or too cold, the bed being too lumpy or too hard. He would always ask Fulla to come and "fix" it for him, but Thor knew that Loki liked Fulla telling stories as much as he did.
Because of them both begging Fulla to tell them just one story, she gave in and agreed. One gruesome story later, Thor was leaning against the backboard of his bed, already tucked underneath his blankets, yet he still felt his blood run cold. Loki, who was sitting cross-legged next to his feet, shivered. Thor briefly wondered if it was because of the story or his attire—no matter how small the royal tailors would make his nightshirt, it always would be too big and hang loose around his shoulders.
Fulla, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, smiled and stood. She was quite tall for a woman. Her golden hair was so long that it reached her waist. Her brown eyes were almond shaped. She was quite pretty; of course she would be. She was Frigga's head maid and best friend.
"Alright, that is enough for tonight," Fulla concluded. "I do not wish to anger my Mistress by filling your heads with such stories."
"What?" cried Loki. "That can't be the end! You simply cannot just leave us hanging like that, Fulla!"
"I can and I will," said Fulla. She nudged Loki, gently scooting him off Thor's bed. "Come along now, Master Loki. Leave your brother to his sleep."
"But—But Fulla," Loki started to protest, but Fulla took his small wrist in her hand and pulled him along out the door.
"Hush, child. Goodnight, Master Thor," said Fulla, turning her attention to him before blowing out the candle and closing the chamber door softly behind her.
"Fulla, are there really people nailed to burning pillars in the underworld?" Thor heard Loki ask outside his door.
Thor shivered. He, being the first born son of Odin, of course would never die. But, on the small chance that he did, he sure didn't want to end up anywhere near Hel and her sick land.
I am the almighty Thor, Thor thought as he snuggled deeper into his bed. I shall never die. Yet if I do, I shall die a warrior's death and greet all my friends in Valhalla, for they must have died long before me. Thor calmed his nerves with this statement and drifted off into a deep sleep.
He was running. His feet were slapping against the stone ground, yet he heard no sound. All he could hear was his heart pounding inside of himself, beating as fast as a drum. A violent wind whipped around his body, the cold air slapping his face. No matter how hard he pleaded with it, it seemed to be holding him back. He was running, but going no where.
The darkness around him seemed to be choking him. Even if he could run, where could he go? There was hardly any light in the cavern. He could barely see his hand in front of his face.
But he could see them.
They rose up out of the ground, one by one. Each of them burst forth out of the ground, using their hands to climb out of their dirt graves. They were all dressed in torn battle armor; as if these were the very skeletons of the mighty warriors who had died in battle.
They clawed at his ankles, wrapping cold and sharp fingers around his legs. He tried to shake them off, but the more he fought, the tighter they seemed to hold on. The ground became like quicksand.
The skeletons pulled him down to his knees in the muck. He tried to scream, but nothing came out of his mouth. He suddenly lost control of his limbs, helpless against the dead, who pulled him down, down, down...
The darkness enveloped him. The hands of the skeletons were gone, and he seemed to be floating in the nothingness.
That is, until he saw the thing that frightened him more than anything. His family, lying dead on the ground. His Mother had a pool of blood next to her head, his Father had a deep gash cut into his throat, and the spear was still sticking out of Loki's chest. All their eyes were open and unseeing, staring into the darkness which he soon receded into.
"No!"
Thor sat bolt upright in his bed. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest. He was in a cold sweat, his chest heaving with each and every breath he took. Thor's eyes wildly scanned his room, looking for any trace of the skeletons or dead bodies of any sort. When he found none, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Thor then took on the task of untangling himself from his bedsheets. He must have been tossing and turning, because his legs were wrapped up fairly tightly. The prince was eventually able to untangle himself, throwing the sheets to the ground as he did so.
Thor didn't bother to pick them up—he instead slid off the side of his bed until his feet touched the ground. His feet carried him across his room and out into the dimly lit hall.
At this time of night, there was hardly anyone still awake, save for the guards. Something inside Thor wished that there were other people awake instead of just the guards and himself. At the moment, he wished that his Mother and Father to come out of their chambers and soothe him, tell him that they were indeed alive and it was all just a silly dream.
Something about that final image had scared him more deeply than the skeleton warriors of Hel ever could. Seeing his them all dead—his Mother, his Father, and Loki...It frightened him. Even though he knew now that it was just a dream, he had to reassure himself.
Thor tiptoed across the hall to his parent's chamber. He raised his fist to knock, but then decided against it, thinking of the next best thing. The blonde god took a step closer and pressed his ear against the golden door.
The familiar sound of his Father's deep snores filled his ear. That was all Thor needed to hear before pulling away; as long as Odin was alive, he wouldn't let anything happen to Frigga. Thor knew that and ceased worrying about his parents.
Then, there was Loki.
Seeing the body of his dead brother somehow had the biggest effect on Thor. Perhaps it was the fact that Loki was littler than him, or simply that Loki was his little brother. Thor didn't know which it was; he only knew that when it came to Loki being in danger, the protectiveness inside of him spiked.
Thor turned and tiptoed further down the hall to his brother's room. Thor got up close and pressed his ear to the door like he did previously. Only, unlike before, Thor couldn't hear anything from on the other side of the door.
Thor's still unsettled mind broke out into a panic, conjuring up thoughts of those skeletal warriors behind that door with Loki. Without hesitation, Thor quickly opened the door of his brother's room and barged inside, preparing himself for a fight. However, he was both relieved and disappointed when he saw no sign of any monsters inside the chamber.
In the darkness, Thor could make out the small form of his brother. Loki was asleep, not bothered by Thor's sudden entrance. His raven hair was ruffled and unkempt, a sight that would have given their Mother a heart attack.
Something that Thor wasn't about to let Frigga have if she woke and found his bed empty.
Thor's eyes swept the room one last time, searching for any sign of a spear or skeleton. When he found neither, he turned and left Loki's chamber, hurrying back into his own before his Mother could wake.
Something was nudging his shoulder. Perhaps he had overslept once again, and Fulla was urging him to wake up? No, Fulla would have simply grabbed hold of his ankles and drug him out of bed. So who...?
"Thor?"
It came out as simply a whisper, yet Thor recognized the voice almost instantly.
"Mmmm?" he hummed as a response, using great effort to open his eyes. It took them a moment to focus in the darkness. They locked with his brother's own emerald orbs, and Thor nearly jumped at how close Loki was.
Seeing the blonde's uneasiness, Loki quickly stepped backwards, away from Thor's bedside. Thor yawned and sat up, missing how the younger prince backed up again, porcelain cheeks tinted with a pink flush.
"I...I, uh...," Loki stuttered quietly, taking sudden interest in his bare feet.
"Fulla's story get to you as well?" guessed Thor, and Loki's head snapped upwards. His eyes were so wide that if Thor hadn't been so tired, he would have laughed.
"Yes," admitted Loki sheepishly, coming back over to the bedside. "What do you mean by 'as well'? Did she frighten you?"
"No," Thor lied, "but she has done so before." Thor shifted in his bed, making room for Loki.
The younger prince didn't hesitate to climb up into bed with his brother. Loki laid down next to Thor, and Thor unconsciously draped his arm around his brother's thin shoulders, pulling him closer.
"Are her stories always so frightening?" Loki asked, shifting to get comfortable.
"No," Thor replied thoughtfully, "she can tell other kinds. Ones that are adventurous, romantic, and sad; they just aren't as good as her horror stories."
Loki hummed softly in response and shut his eyes. "I think Fulla tells stories a bit too well," he muttered into Thor's shoulder.
"I think that you are right," Thor agreed. He glanced at Loki; he had curled up into Thor's side, his face blissfully blank and his chest rising slowly up and down which each breath. "Goodnight, Loki," Thor murmured quietly, but he wasn't entirely sure if Loki had heard him.
A/n: Ah, the famous Oh-God-I've-had-a-nightmare-please-help-make-it-go-away scene. I've read this in so many other fandoms, but I've never tried actually writing one of my own. I put my own twist onto it, can you tell? (Fun fact: when I got a nightmare as a little kid, I would just go into my parents room and listen to them breathe. Is that weird?)
Anyway, I've been thinking of titleing these. The next one would be called, In which Sif's hair gets cut off, Loki gets beat up, and Thor gets crushed under a rock. xD IT ISN'T MY FAULT I SWEAR. BLAME THE PLOT BUNNIES.