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 20: Doorways
A/N: Is anyone else utterly astounded by the fact that our lives change every day? I am. I'm still not used to it, and some of the changes are very unwelcome. But, hey, nobody said life was easy. Or fair. Still, we keep moving in the hopes for a better and more satisfying future. A great accomplishment. I'm very pleased that those are some of the messages, and the truths, that I've given to this story.
Thank you guys for reading. I hope that you will all continue to enjoy this as much as I do.
Fandral groaned, threw his head back onto his shoulders and whined.
"Where the devil is he?"
He'd been at it all day as they wandered about, trudging across the grass and pavement and floors of the palace, and Sif was starting to lose her patience. As he started complaining again, she slowed her pace as they walked through the trees, moved beside Fandral and stuck her foot out just slightly, sent him tumbling forward into the dirt. He spat, rolled onto his back and began wiping grime off his lips and tongue with equally filthy gloves, sputtering as Volstagg chuckled and tugged him to his feet.
The warrior swore under his breath at her, kicked at a pine cone and kept on with his whining, demanding to know just what her problem was.
"You ask where he's gone," she said simply, "when you ought to know well."
Her brow creased, detesting the very fact herself. Thor was just as foolish as his brother, always had been, choosing to defend the snake when he didn't even deserve it. The time the trickster had set ants on her in the dead of night, caused them to crawl up her nightgown and spread throughout her chambers as they multiplied in succession, the thunderer had insisted that Loki had meant no harm, even while, standing behind him, the devil had quietly snickered at her with that eerie glint in his eyes.
Loki had always bothered her somehow, though she'd never been able to quite put her finger on it. But his latest trick, this new and sincerely wicked blunder against her, had made everything incredibly clear. She had never liked him. Sif had simply been pretending, for Thor's sake and for peace.
Volstagg ran a hand across the bark of a strong pine, peeled pieces away with his fingertips, and the cracking sound brought a distinct end to the awkwardness of the silence. The man's brown eyes widened beneath red brows as Sif turned to look at him, with an intent to tell him to knock it off, but the obvious innocence in his face, the lack of contention, caused Sif to hold her tongue. It wasn't his fault any more than it was Fandral's or Hogun's. So, why yell at him, or any of them, about all this?
Were they to find Thor, as she hoped they would, run across him and Loki hiding out in a tent and laughing together, perhaps she'd give him the tongue lashing he deserved for running off without telling them, defending his idiot brother all the damn time. But she'd never actually yelled at him before, stayed angry with him for more than a day. And, as experience had shown, when dealing with Loki, Thor was the only one he took seriously aside from their mother. Why, Sif was certain that he'd laugh even in the face of Odin if given the chance.
Hogun sighed, sat down on a nearby stone and took to turning the mace about in his hand. They had all taken to carrying their weapons everywhere following the camping trip, sometimes fingering them obsessively. Apparently the shock of the last journey still hadn't made its way out of their systems. It had, after all, been a somewhat terrifying experience, skilled as they all were.
"Where do you suppose they've gone?" he said, not looking up. "We have been looking for them the whole of the day. And there are only a number of places they could have gotten to within the span of six hours."
Sif stomped her foot and sneered.
"He's off gallivanting with that fool brother of his, of course!"
The others said nothing, and a realization washed over her. The Grim had a point that Sif had not thought to consider in her anger. The two of them couldn't have gone very far, as it was like that they had only awakened at daybreak and set off on their horses as the stable boy had told them, but they certainly had quite the head start, regardless.
The woman sighed, reached skyward towards the nearest branch and hoisted herself up, using the soles of her boots to cling to the bark. She went up one step at a time, fingers curling around each extension of the tree and pulling until Sif found herself at the very top, peering over the sharp pine needles. The sky was so blue when one seemed close enough to touch it, the clouds like cotton that, were she to fall, gave off the illusion that they would swoop down and catch her, lower her gently and safely to the ground again. She stared off in the distance, towards the sea as it glittered in the sunlight, towards the always glowing dome of the Bifrost, and felt her eyes widen.
The four of them had searched everywhere, all of Thor and Loki's usual hiding places, at least those which they knew of, and had found nothing. Not a stone upturned or even footsteps to force down the grass. Nothing. And why, Sif now wondered, would they take the horses if they were only to be venturing a little ways from the palace?
"What is it, Sif?" Fandral chimed as she dropped out of the tree suddenly. "Have you-"
"Save your jokes," she told him, and took off running, urging the men to follow. "I have found them."
"Where?" Volstagg asked in earnest, jogging quickly in an attempt to keep up with her. He breathed heavily. "Don't tell me you happened to spy them from the top of that pine?"
Sif laughed, turned and gave him a smile. "Of course not, you fool."
"Then-"
"Just hold your tongue and keep up. We ride for the Bifrost."
# - # - # - #
What in the hell had they been thinking, venturing all the way here. They were all but stranded, lying in sweat and misery as the horses whinnied in discontent, knees buckled and on the ground at the mouth of the cave. It was a bloody stupid thing they'd done, deciding to run off to Muspelheim for a bit of fun, perhaps some sport. The temperatures were skyrocketing, the air thick as though they were trying to breathe with a steadily drying clump of mud weighing down their tongues. If there had ever been any water on this godforsaken ball of flame and dirt, it must have dried up long ago, which easily explained the distinct lack of shade or thriving green plant life.
There were stones everywhere, some of them protruding sharply from the cracked earth, as though someone had taken to stalactites from beneath the ground and shoved them upward. They had seen signs of a stream, once, during the godawful trek across what looked to be a desert, only to find that the damned thing was just a trench, probably dug by some other poor visitors in an attempt to cool off. The brothers hadn't bothered looking, had kept pressing onward, but Loki imagined that the poor sods must have burned to a crisp in the dirt.
He wrinkled his nose, cracked his eyes open and glanced at the horses in time to see one of them flop onto its side, wheezing as the breath slowly escaped its body. They should have gone to Jotunheim, he thought, knowing that Thor would have hated the frigid chill that the tales told of. But, as they both knew, it was far easier to warm up, conjure spells and create flame, when one wasn't steadily dying of heat exhaustion.
Loki sighed, rolled onto his side as Thor's shadow appeared at the cave entrance, somehow managing to cool the small space even further. He dripped with sweat, the little beads rolling off his face and chin to strike the scorched stone, disappearing into the air almost as quickly as they had come into being. How his brother still had the means with which to walk, let alone run, in this heat was entirely beyond him. Loki, each time he had tried to stand, had ended up feeling increasingly nauseous.
"There's a city," Thor gasped, dropping to his knees and crawling across the floor. Loki said nothing, narrowed his eyes as if to demand just how they'd be getting there without the horses and supplies. "We can walk."
Loki groaned loudly, the sound echoing through the cave as he sat up on his elbows and moved further back into the dark.
"No."
Thor gave him a perplexed look, as if to ask why he'd want to stay here of all places. Truth was, Loki didn't. There was no fun in waiting around in a hole in the rock until they had enough breath with which to call upon Heimdall again. But the trickster wasn't the least bit interested in shriveling up in the sun, in feeling what little moisture they had in their bodies as it was drained quickly away.
"This was a stupid idea, Thor," he huffed, wishing very much that they were still stranded on the mountain back home, stuck rolling about and arguing in the rain. Why, Loki would trade his left arm to be lying in the dirt watching his brother cutting an antler off that damned bilge snipe again. Anything, he'd decided, was better than this misery. "I still can't believe–"
He was cut off as Thor leaned over him, emptied his waterskin over Loki's head.
Before he could muster the strength to shout at Thor, he stared with dry blue eyes and said, "There's no hope if we're both dead, Brother."
Loki sighed, grabbed him by the front of the breastplate and pulled, forced Thor to topple to the floor beside him. The trickster wiped his face, slapped a wet hand against his brother's forehead.
"We aren't dying here," he said, ignoring the shock in Thor's expression. "Idiot."
How long they lay there, Loki had no idea, even as he stared through his fingers at the sun, watched it slink slowly across the sky and hoping that, once it set, things would be much more bearable. He glanced to the horses then, groaned and shook his head as he realized that the one had stopped breathing all together. Great, Loki thought. They hadn't even been in this hellhole a single day and, already, one of the horses had died.
He moved, nudged Thor in the side and pointed him to the sight, watched his brother's eyes go wide. The thunderer probably realized just how stupid it had been to waste precious water on the animal. His blue gaze moved to Loki, as if to ask how long it would be before the two of them ended up in very much the same situation.
No time was offered to the trickster for a response, as Thor vaulted to his feet and grabbed Loki by the wrist, hurrying to the side of the other, breathing heavily but still alive. It stood as Thor took hold of the reins, urged Loki to hold to the thing with a nod of his head. Tugging the hood over his head, Loki squinted, thought his brother an awful fool as he started dragging the body of the other into the cave to strip it of supplies. When they were tied onto the back of the other, Thor donned his own cloak and started walking, ushering for Loki to follow.
They were undeniably screwed, and that was the harsh reality. It would be a bloody miracle if anyone showed up to drag them back to Asgard, reprimand them both for being such damned idiots.
Almost the instant the thought passed through Loki's mind, the sky turned ray, a sweet relief washing over the both of them as that familiar pillar of clouds and lightning dropped to the ground, shadows appearing through the gray haze.
Thor's face lit up instantly and Loki's expression soured as the shroud disappeared, the Warriors Three and Sif appearing on horseback, their eyes glittering like gold as they looked to Thor. Sif, quite naturally, glowered at Loki the second she saw him. Unfortunately for her, that utter dread fled the trickster completely upon seeing the deep color of her hair, consistent right down to the pale shade of her skin. He smiled, suddenly far more proud of himself than he'd ever been, and failing to hear Thor's voice until a hand cuffed him on the ear.
"What?!" he said sharply, and turned to his brother. "What?"
"The city," Thor said with a smile, and grabbed Loki by the arm, pulled him towards the horses and urged him towards Sif's. "We can make it now."
Loki stood stone still, used what magic he had energy to muster to stick the soles of his boots firmly to the ground. It didn't matter what Thor, or any of them, said, he was not going to get on the same damned horse as Sif. He'd sooner die than be close enough to allow her to strangle him.
In his opinion, there was nothing more pathetic than to be killed by a woman. Something his mother could never find out about.
"You first," he said, and refused to move until Sif had moved aside to make room for Thor, allow him to take to the reins as she wrapped her arms about his middle.
The thunderer gave him a dirty look which Loki easily ignored, deciding to take his chances with trying to hang onto the back of Volstagg's armor, as the Valiant seemed to have much less of a problem with him than the others. Then again, Hogun could have been equally as forgiving, though it was a bit hard to tell.
The bearded man smiled and shifted forward on the saddle a bit as Loki pulled himself up, silently thankful that Volstagg was so damned solid, otherwise the both of them would have toppled to the ground.
Thor clicked his tongue, caused the worn out horse to walk towards him, and fastened the reins to the bridle of Sif's mount. When the knot was tied to his satisfaction, he trotted to the front of the group, explained just how they'd be getting to the city, and that the journey would be much faster than his own had been now that they were on horseback.
But, as they began to ride, Sif turned back to glare at him, and Loki, being rather prone to a bit of childishness of his own, smiled and stuck the tip of his tongue between his teeth.