Disclaimer: I don't own Thor, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Marvel and their respective creators. I only own any original characters that I choose to include, as well as any original plot ideas.

Chapter 11: Another Hole In The Head

"You've done it yet again," Sif said, walking down the rows of trees far faster than she needed to.

She sat down beside him and Loki groaned, hoping that the sound would encourage her to get back up again and leave so he could finish his book. Really, it was all his mother would allow him to do at this point, what with having horrendous bruising, three broken ribs and an arm to match. The healers had taken hours to set the bones, after which he had been incredibly eager to get away. But Frigga had caught him, still shuddering and dripping with sweat, before he'd even made it out the door, insisting that there was to be no roughhousing and that he'd be taking it easy until she said otherwise.

That had boiled his blood, and Loki was certain that Sif had come to find him at his mother's request. Keep an eye on him and all that.

Of course, she'd been sending people to follow him for the past two days.

And, since the day Thor had damaged the book, he hadn't gotten any further along with his reading, and started to think that he never would what with the pace at which everyone continued to interrupt him. Why, at this rate, Loki was certain that, after getting over his temper tantrum, the Allfather would come and find him, give him the tongue lashing that the old man thought he had coming. Loki dreaded that.

The prince ignored her, tried to force himself to keep reading until the woman snatched the book from his hand and sat on it. He grimaced, knowing that he'd end up picking dirt out of the pages later.

"Done what?" Loki muttered, staring up into the trees at the red apples. "Something that merits another beating from you, I take it."

Sif didn't reply, got off the book and left it on the ground as she moved around to his left, taking him by the hand and lifting his arm to examine it.

"Does it still hurt?"

That was a stupid question. Of course it did. Why, it hadn't stopped since the healer had all but forced strips of balm-soaked cloth into the split flesh, pieced together another set of splints and wrapped the bandages so tightly that Loki had believed himself to have passed out on more than one occasion. That and the fact that, if he shifted even slightly, his head was shot through with sparks of pain. And, naturally, it had started bleeding all over again.

Loki wanted to pull away, but didn't bother, knowing that it would hurt him far more than Sif, and decided to bear with it, wait until she'd grown bored of quietly undressing the wound with her eyes so as to teach herself yet another technique for wrapping them herself. When she finally let go, Loki's head bumped against the bark of the apple tree.

"You made Sigyn cry," she said, suddenly indignant, and looked as though she'd like to shove him. The trickster had never been more pleased with the fact that Thor's wild ventures had gotten him hurt.

That wasn't news to him. Why, he'd made plenty of beautiful young women cry in his lifetime, namely those who had thought themselves something special because they'd had chance to lay with a prince of Asgard. Not to mention all the ones who had thrown themselves at him, followed him about at every daylight hour in hopes that they'd impress him with some boring facts copied right out of one of Loki's own books. So, the fact that he'd made Sigyn cry with his remarks wasn't anything new at all.

And he didn't particularly care, either.

"Are you expecting remorse?" he said, looking towards the book that lay abandoned to the right. The trickster grabbed it, tucked it behind his back so that Sif couldn't get it again. "You'd have better luck looking for it in the stables."

Sif made an irritated sound, raised a hand and thumped him on the head.

"You don't care?"

"Why should I?" Loki glared back, thought to tell her that the woman had spoken ill of his brother, called him a stupid fool, and in no uncertain terms. But he held himself back. "Why do you? She's no friend to you, Sif. To my mother, perhaps, but not to you."

The warrior gave him a strange look, her eyes widened in a way that expressed disbelief and suspicion.

"To your mother," she repeated, and shook her head. "Is that all? Do you mean to tell me that, after all that's happened, Sigyn suddenly means nothing to you?"

Loki moved away from her, fell flat on his back and groaned. He scrabbled backwards, kicking up dirt with his boots and easily leaving the book behind. Sif just stared after him, obviously disgusted.

"It's none of your damned business!" he shouted, struggling to his feet. Loki swallowed. "You weren't there; you don't know what happened! So what right do you have to lecture me about hurting her precious little feelings, when you act without regard all the time?!"

The woman's jaw dropped and she gasped, standing up and following after him as Loki darted between the trees. He didn't need this. Everyone else was already on his back already, telling him to be more careful, that he needed to take care of himself, and whatnot. And, when Odin found out that he'd made the wench run off in tears, likely to his mother, the king would berate him as well on just how it was he treated women. Which, in Loki's opinion, wasn't horrid. He just didn't discriminate between which sex he chewed out when they deserved it.

"When did this become about me?!" she shouted after him, her steps picking up speed as he started to run. "This is about what you said to her! What she said to make you act like this!"

Loki skidded to a stop, turned and caught her shoulder with his right hand as she drew closer, pushing her back a few steps. Sif looked riled up and about ready to punch him in the nose.

"You women are all the same!" he snarled and advanced on her. Sif stood her ground and leered up at him. "You think you can say what you want; that, if it doesn't work out to your advantage, you can just... cry and expect it all to go away!"

"So, because you're angry with Sigyn, you're taking it out on me?!"

He shrugged, looked at her as though it were obvious. "Well, you're here, aren't you?"

Sif struck him in the face then, stormed angrily away and left Loki to sit in the dirt, lick blood from his lip.

# - # - # - #

"You are both fools!" Odin roared, slamming the butt of the spear against the floor.

Thor had been sent to find his brother nearly an hour before, had run through the halls and across the palace grounds without so much as a hair to be found. He'd even ventured out to the field behind the stables where the steep hill lay, the one that was nearly a straight drop down into the lake. He hadn't been there, either. Of course, the very last place he had thought to look had been the orchards, and there Loki had been, lying in the dirt and groaning about the hell Sif was going to pay for hitting him. Though it had been horribly inappropriate, Thor had chuckled quietly to himself as he thought about what his brother must have said to have warranted a heavy nosebleed.

They had hurried back to the throne room, found that their father had taken to having lunch, and had discovered the graying king in the dining hall, nursing his temper over a goblet of ale. And, the instant the two had entered, Loki still with smears of blood on his face, Odin had thrown the thing at them, causing it to smack hard into the wall above their heads and scatter the drink across the floor.

He now stormed from one end of the room to the other, growling at the pair about their foolish antics, easily referencing the fact that Loki had nearly been killed and that he hadn't the skill with which to hunt or fight bilge snipe to begin with. Thor felt the rage radiating from his brother, now humiliated twice in a day, and laid a hand on his shoulder. Loki was shaking.

The thunderer stepped forward, golden brows curving to meet the bridge of his nose as his mouth twisted into a thin line. He was going to tell their father otherwise, that he was wrong about his brother, that he was always wrong and that, even as king, he had no right to speak that way about Loki.

Odin's back was still turned to them as Thor felt himself being pulled back, Loki's hand having closed around his wrist and giving him a solid yank. His pale eyes demanded that Thor step back, that he put that foolishness out of his head and mind his tongue. He'd get them both into more trouble, his brother's expression said. For, if Thor were to start shouting, Odin would shout right back, and, to uphold their unspoken agreement, Loki would intervene and get the brunt of both their vile tempers.

"What have you to say for yourselves?!" the Allfather roared, turning around just as Thor took his place beside his brother. "Well?!"

Thor said nothing, bit his lip and acknowledged that Loki was right; that riding out the storm was better than trying to charge through it. But, when the king stalked towards them, stared down at the two with that iron eye, Thor nearly lost it.

"Speak!"

Loki straightened, the tip of his tongue wiping away more of the blood that had nearly dried upon his lip, and scowled as he took a step forward. Thor was a bit surprised to see them so close, to know that Loki, while smaller than him, was still taller than their father.

Thor stood up and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Loki..."

The God of Mischief said nothing, looked the Allfather right in the eye and scoffed, pulled out of Thor's grasp and turned on his heel to exit the room. Odin looked outraged.

"Don't you walk away from me, boy!" he bellowed, and Loki stopped, turned and flung the empty goblet back at the man, which Odin caught easily.

"Nothing I do is right by your standards!" Thor stared, head spinning and wondering if there could have been a way for this to be avoided. "I've tried to prove myself to you time and again, and nothing is good enough! You favor him!" The thunderer's eyes widened, for he had never thought that Loki would dare to say that to their father. "Everything he does is gold to you, and the moment anything goes wrong, you assume it all to be my doing!"

Odin looked taken aback at this, and had retreated a step, eye wide and anger lost. He frowned. "What are you–"

"Do you really think I'd be so stupid as to court death like that?! Play games with a monster and do this to myself?!"

Thor felt his heart sink. It didn't bother him that Loki was outing him for his foolishness. He'd wanted to speak up in the first place, but didn't. He'd allowed his brother to protect him. Which is exactly what Thor had failed to do.

It seemed to dawn on their father what had happened, who was really at fault, as he made a face, that of thought, and turned away. Thor looked between the two, surged forward and grabbed Loki, stopped him before he could do something stupid himself.

"Enough," he whispered, fastened an arm about his brother's waist, and pulled.

Behind them, the door opened as their mother rushed in, like to have heard the shouting from the hallway. She looked to them and then across the room to Odin, and the only sound Thor could hear was the heavy, fearful beating of his own heart. He should have said something when they had come home; should have made sure that his father knew that all the journey's troubles had been his doing. Because he was too damn stubborn to listen to his brother's reason.

Thor tugged Loki out into the hallway, opened his mouth to tell him that it was best to let this die. But he was shoved away, and Loki disappeared the way he always did when angry enough, and left Thor to stand in the open doorway as his mother skirted across the wide room to the king.

And Thor knew now that, with what had been said, his father and brother would not be speaking for a very long time.