Smoke and Mirrors

The scent of dirt, smoke and herbs were thick in the air. The air is cold and it was starting to bite into Thor's skin as he stood at the edge of the dim tent, as Sif speak to Fandral bundled beneath the thick layers of furs.

The fire crackled on the other side of the tent. Fandral did not want it anywhere near him, and Thor could not fault him for it.

Half of Fandral's face that had been burnt by those monsters. His burnt skin was reddish and raw and his golden hair had crisped away.

Fandral had lost most of the bulk of his muscles and he could barely walk. The tips of all his fingers were dark, bleeding and rotted from frostbite and the skin from the soles of his feet had been completely torn off. His lips were dry and cracked and his body was covered with lashes.

While the healers had told them that Fandral would live and for that Thor was grateful; the mere thought of what those monsters had done to Fandral stabs him with anger and rage.

"Thor" Sif called. "Come"

Thor uncrosses his arm, going over. He forced a smile when he drew close, the scent herbs grew ever stronger. His eyes averted Fandral's half burnt face, not because it terrifies him. He had seen more than his fair share of burnt men in the war… But rather, the sight of Fandral fills him with guilt and shame.

Guilt that he had abandoned his friend to be tortured; to be slaughtered by those monsters! And shame…that Fandral would still look upon him even without a shard of anger or accusation.

Sif stood up for Thor to take her place.

"I will leave you two to speak" She said.

Thor was silent.

She bowed; then giving Fandral a gentle smile, she left.

Thor's hand touches the rough edge of Fandral's fur cover as he lowered himself on the wooden stool.

There was a moment where neither spoke a word and Thor looked at his hands.

"Ah…The healers said it would likely scar a little" Fandral started. His voice was weak and hoarse.

Thor's fingers curled.

"How am I to pick up Ladies now eh?" Fandral joked badly. "But I suppose Ladies do like man with sca-"

"Forgive me" Thor said as if he had not heard a word his friend spoke. "I left you with those monsters…I shouldn't… I cou-"

"Thor stop" Fandral rasped. "You did what you needed"

"Did I?" Thor gritted in anger at himself.

"It is an honor to die for Asgard"

"Honor…" Thor snorted. "You must be the very few left that still speak of honor and meant it"

While his warriors and people are quick to accuse that the Jotuns fought without honor, they themselves were no better.

But what is honor when babes are ripped from the breast of mothers on a whim? What is honor when children starve and widows wail over the bodies of their husbands? What is honor when your realm burn and the innocent drop dead like flies every day? What is honor when defeat meant a lifetime of slavery and torture? What is honor when defeat meant that everything you had ever known and love would be ripped away from you?

In a time of Gods and Monsters, what is the worth of honor?

"Do you not believe that it is an honor to die…?" Fandral asked quietly.

"…"

"You've changed…"

"Perhaps"

"…"

"You will be moved back to the capital the day after tomorrow"

"As you command"

"…"

"When did you get here…?" Fandral rasped.

"After Sif reported that Laufey had marched to Eden to unite his men" Thor told him.

"What of the West?"

"I left it to Bragi…But let's stop this talk of war…"

Silent fell between them again.

"You…You should rest" Thor stood up. "We will speak again tomorrow"

"Aye…" Fandral looked up to Thor, a smile on his lips. "When this is all over, perhaps we could return to Fyrisvellir once again…"

Thor cracks a true smile for the first time in years.

Fyrisvellir was a place in their better times. It was a time when Asgard had shone with the light of a thousand suns; when laughter and songs could be heard at all hours of the day. It was a place in a time when they were all naive, carefree and so happy.

"Aye we will" That is a promise.

Shadows were all around; a veil of mist hides them all. The moonless, starless night was dark and all that could be heard were the occasional soft crunch of leafs or the creak of twigs or the bodiless whisper and the muffled sobs and the clinks of chains.

Jotun warriors guarded the shivering crowd of Aesir prisoners that huddled together beneath layers of fur covers.

But even so, the Aesirs shiver terribly in the sheering cold that tears painfully at their skin. Their lips were cracked, their skin peel and their chest hurts. The tip of their fingers had darkened.

Fandral, heavily chained to a tree away from the crowd, shivered badly as the wind slice through the night with a fury; grating hard against his exposed face. Even with thick furs wrapped about him, the night was still unbearable.

The trees shook.

"You should rest while you can" There was a soft crunch.

Fandral looked up; golden locks fell away from his icy face.

Helblindi crouches down by him while Laufey stood behind his child, glaring viciously at him. It was no secret that Laufey loathed him. Hel, the only reason Laufey had let him live albeit grudgingly was because he had spared Helblindi's life when it was his to take.

Fandral looked away from the King to Helblindi.

"I'll be…res-ting… soon enough" He gritted; his teeth clattered hard.

"No hard feelings my Lord of Aesir" Helblindi smiled, arranging the rough furs a little higher over Fandral.

Fandral said nothing.

"It won't be long now…" Laufey spoke. "Go get Byleistr"

"Aye…" Helblindi left obediently, leaving the two alone.

Laufey crouches down, the tip of his fingers touch the dirt beneath them as those scarlet eyes looked intently at the darkness that shrouds them.

The mist was so thick that Fandral knew that Laufey could not possibly see much of anything. But he knew too that the King did not need sight to perceive his surroundings.

Jotunheim, a realm shroud in darkness and thick mist, with snowstorms that last an age, and night…an eternity; vision was overrated. The Jotun's every smell, every sound, every touch, were heightened beyond that of Aesir that they could perceive the world around them with such clarity that it surpasses that of sight.

The silence dragged on, anticipation and fear continue to twist like a knife in Fandral's guts. He took in a deep breath, wrenching uselessly against the chains that cuts into him for what seem like the hundredth time.

Scarlet eyes glows in the dark, as the entire platoon of Jotun army waited for Loki's signal. It was going to be an uphill battle for the Jotuns. And with one of the largest Aesir troop by far.

"You ha-ve the Nor-th" Fandral tells Laufey. "Stop advan-cing your ar-my"

"You would like that wouldn't you?"

"You may win th-is battle…perhaps the ne-xt…but you will not win this war"

"…"

"Your chil-dren! Your soldiers! They will die for no-thing!"

"And you would care" Laufey sneered.

"Hel-blindi" Fandral said. "He do-esn't deserve to die"

"No he doesn't" Laufey conceded. But he was unmoving.

Of course Fandral didn't think his words could change the King's mind…but he had to do something! Before first light, thousands are going to die!

"You are so su-re…Lo-ki will de-liver…?" Fandral asked.

"He will not fail"

"I'm…sur-prise…that…that you would let yo-ur heir go alone…But I sup-pose…you do ha-ve two spares and he is a ru-"

Laufey hissed.

Before Fandral could even react a blade was pressed painfully against his throat. Blood red eyes glaring viciously at him.

"Do not ever!" Laufey snarled; his razor teeth bare. "Imply that I cared not for Loki. Or any of my children"

Fandral was unfazed.

Lord Tyr came towards them.

"My King…" Tyr called. "It is time"

Thor panted, his heart hammered, beating violently against his chest. His eyes were wide as he swept his head from left to right. All about, all that he could see were darkness as he stood hip deep in a sea of blood and corpse. He could smell the stanch of death, the stanch of rot and flesh and he see mangled bodies all around him.

And there was fear, a cold dripping fear that creeps towards him, like a plague, a disease… coming to tear him apart, to devour him. There was wet crackling sound behind him and he could feel a stirring, a presence, that make all his hair stand on ends.

He turns slowly, his lips trembled and his body shook... perhaps in cold or perhaps in fear. There was nothing.

A soft taunting chuckle whispered.

"Shall I sing you a lullaby to close your eyes…?" Icy lips brushed his ears.

At once Thor roared, whirling, to see a child garbed in filthy nightdress standing a little away from him. Grimy long black hair dangled all over his pale face and ashen lips.

"Who...Who are you…?" Thor stammered.

Pale grey eyes simply look at him and then slowly the child opens his mouth…wider and wider, followed by a loud sharp crack of dislocated bones and yet still it stretched heedlessly wider.

Thor stumbled back in terror as he stared with wide eyes; his every instinct screaming at him.

Monster… Monster…

There was something crawling up its throat and he could hear wings, thousands of tiny little wings and slick wet sound and smell the stanch of rot. His guts twisted. Then came a terrible screeched and from the depths of his throat that was as black and endless as the abyss came forth venomous snakes, scorpions and thousands upon thousands of wasp that flew right at Thor.

Thor roared, and he ran.

Vicious wasps stung and melted his flesh.

He swiped violently, desperately. White blinding pain exploded, stabbing, sheering his face, his neck, his arm, and his fingers. Welts, blisters and blood formed over every inch of his exposed skin.

"Stop! Stop!" He howled.

He tried to run faster; his muscles burnt as he ploughed through the sea of death. Something caught his legs and he tripped with a mighty splash swallowing a mouthful of pungent liquid that sheered his throat. He coughed, his guts twisted violently. He pushed to get up when black inky tendrils wrapped tightly about his neck, and hauled him under.

He fought and he twisted, yanking and kicking as more and more inky vines wrap and tighten about all of his limbs.

"Here's a lullaby to close your eyes…" Ghostly nails caress his blistered cheek.

Thor struggled, letting out a muffled scream.

"Goodbye" The red Jotun eyes flashed.

A loud crash jolted Thor awake into his misty tent and for a moment he did not know where he was.

The horns were shrieking through the night, wild and urgent, screaming: Awake! Awake! Warriors of Asgard Awake!

He could see bright flickering lights beyond the thin layer of his tent and hear urgent shouts and clatters of metal, the neigh of horses and the thudding of boots.

"Loki…"

Thor lurches at once to his feet, fumbling for his boots. His hands shook, his body covered in cold sweat trembled still as he struggled to buckle his boots. He could see his breath.

That dream… His guts twist and he thought he was going to be sick. He took in deep shuddering breath, swiping a clammy hand down his face. Those words… He remembers them from long ago.

Loki is here. Loki is taunting him.

Within minutes he was armored and out the tent, to be greeted by a scene of total chaos.

Men and horse blundering through the mist and fire was all around him. Scorching pots of oil had been overturned and the withered grass around them was starting to burn. Tents were on fire and the horses were wild in panic, crashing into wooden wagons and smashing barrels of water and boxes of rations.

"Move the weapons!" His men shout through the clatter.

"Put out the fire you fool!"

"Control those animals!"

He shifted through the wreckage.

The mist thickened as he steps. And the thunderous clatter and shouts seemed to soften, till he could hear no more. He could still see his men all around him yes, he could still see the fire and the horses going wild, trampling over everything in their path. He could see his men opening their lips and shouting, waving wildly, but he could not hear them. Nor did he think they could see him.

He took in a deep breath, bracing himself.

"Show yourself trickster" He commanded. "I know it is you"

There was a heartbeat when everything was silent.

Then came a whisper from behind him. "It's been awhile hasn't it? Your Grace…"

At once, Thor stilled. His heart thumped.

That voice…that familiar voice that haunted his every resting moment.

Emotions, a thunderstorm of conflicting, clashing emotions burst forth, crowding in on him hard and fast, so many that he could hardly sort them out. But one…there was one, that shrieked above all and it clouds his mind with red….fiery red!

Rain poured. His grip on Mjolnir tightened till his knuckles were white.

Thunders roared, lightning streak. Thor turns; his fierce cerulean gaze pierced Loki's blood red ones.

Loki was just as he remembers him. Beautiful, alluring…and yet so terrible…

"Why such a scary face? Did you miss your poor daddy?" Loki taunted.

Thunders shrieked, threatening to rip the skies apart.

Loki laughs at the twisted expression on Thor's face.

Wind howled.

"You should thank me Thor!" He screams through the onslaught of rain.

Thor's eyes were murderous and they glow and spit as if the very lightning itself. Mjolnir thrummed with scalding power.

"I made you King of Asgard!"

Thor roared, charging at Loki.

Loki laughs, taking off before Thor could reach him. He did not need to look over his shoulders to know that Thor was hunting him. He could hear the heavy boots thudding after him; he could feel the prickle of sheer raw power in the air that bites at his flesh.

A chuckle bubbled from his lips, his chest tightened. Oh indeed he dances with death. Oh indeed he is the father of death!

"Poor daddy's little boy…did he miss the bedtime stories?" He goaded.

The wind ripped through the night, shaking the trees and the ground groan as roots were being brutally torn from the very depths.

Blood pounded in Thor's ears.

"What's the matter? Did mommy not tell good bedtime stories?" Thor could hear Loki's taunts through the howling wind as he hunted the beast."Did you miss mummy too? Shall I bring you her head so you won't be lonely?"

Bolts of lightning ripped from sky to dirt; the ground shook, the sound was deafening.

Trees burnt.

Sif was helping with the fire when she heard someone shouting for her. "My Lady! My Lady!"

Sif turn. She stilled when she saw the squire she had sent to see Fandral to safety rushing towards her.

"My Lady!"

"Why are you here?" She demanded urgently. "Where's Fandral?!"

"He isn't in his tent! He is gone!"

"Impossible!"

"I swear my Lady! There was no one! I swear!"

Before Sif could say another word the horns called again for the second time that night. But it was a different call this time. A more terrifying one...

Enemies! Enemies! The enemies are coming!

"Norns save us" She turns back to the frighten boy. "Go find Fandral and keep him safe" She said slowly, clearly, force behind her every word.

"Ye-yes Lady!" The squire bolted.

Sif rushes to the border. Warriors were starting to crowd across the entire front. She pushes her way through until she was standing at the edge of the slope. It was still dark, and the cold mist is thickening despite the downpour.

Thunders rumbled and crashed.

She could hear the Jotun's battle cry in the distance even if she could not yet see them.

"Where is Thor?" She asked.

"No one has seen him" The warrior beside her answered.

She whipped her head around. "When was the last anyone saw him?!" She demanded.

They looked at one another, shaking their heads.

"Well?!"

"A squire is searching for him" Someone informed.

"Norns…" She took in a deep breath.

This cannot be happening now! They cannot wait for Thor. She will lead then…

"Men! To your positions!" She ordered.

But they did not move. They murmured among each other and some were even leaving the ranks.

"Men!" She tried.

They did not even look at her. A century she had lead them in and out of battle, all those victories meant nothing to them. She was just a woman playing at swords to them. They only follow her because they were commanded to. Now that Thor is here somewhere, they refuse to follow her anymore.

She could feel the tremor beneath her boots, and feel the crispy bite of cold in the air. The Jotuns would be on them in minutes now…

"Men!" Sif roared above their chatters. "Don't fight for me! Don't fight for your King!"

That caught their attention. She continues.

"But if you do not stand now! It is your realm they will burn! Your cities they will plunder! Your women they will slaughter! And your children they will torture!" She saw awareness dawning on their faces. "Warriors of Asgard! I bid you take up your arms and fight with me one more time! Take up your arms and defend your cities! Defend your homes! Defend your women! And defend your children! Warriors of Asgard! I bid you take up your arms and defend your realm! For Asgard!"

The warriors roared, thrusting their weapons into the air.

"For Asgard!" They shouted in unison.

"Men! To your positions! And let's show them why Asgard remains a realm undefeated! Unconquered! Unchallenged!"

In a heartbeat there was a mess of clattering and scrapping to metals. She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

A familiar chilling howl dragged through the night.

"Norns be good…" She turns to the battleground.

That was Fenrir. The beast of Hel.

"Bring what's left of the oil!" She unsheathes her sword.

The camp is still on fire. The catapults, spears, shields…they are burning. Half the horses are gone. And the arrows… not much was left.

Twenty great cauldrons of scorching oil were being brought.

"That's it?" Sif thought.

Men parted and reformed, allowing the oil to be pushed into position; in front of three rows of spearmen and a wall of tall metallic shields. It would have been seven rows if they had the spears. Four foot soldiers were in charge of each cauldron.

She looks over the shoulders of her archers and three rows of bristle steel. The grip of her sword tightened as the voice grew louder. Rain dripping down her jet black locks.

"Archers at the ready!" She ordered.

Archers drew their arrows, setting them ablaze. A thousand burning arrows were pointed up into the night.

The first to burst through the mist about a hundred and fifty meter from them were no Jotuns. They were Aesir, women and children and they were all clad in dirty rags; screaming and weeping. And only behind them did the Jotuns start sweeping in with a mix too of Aesir war prisoners, stumbling and running among them.

Sif stilled. The warriors reeled.

"Steady!" She shouted.

"My Lady! If we shoot they -"

"Then so be it" There was no hesitation in her voice.

A hundred meters… eighty… seventy…

"Pour the oil!" She commanded.

At once, great cauldrons were pushed over.

Scorching oil flowed with great speed down the treacherous slope, burning trees, grass…everything. The women and children were too slow to avoid. The oil burn and melted their flesh. Their shrieks were terrifying.

"Archers!" She cried. "Fire!"

Arrows flew.

Thor stalked Loki all the way into the thick woods. He was soaked from head to toe, his boots smacked against mud in a steady rhythm like a march. Branches cracked; the ground groaned in protest. Thorns and branches caught his cape, he unclasped them. Water dripped from the tip of his golden locks. His piercing eyes never left the mad chuckling figure in front of him even as mist started to surround him.

"Can you catch me? My Lord of Aesir…" Loki smirks, leaping through the trees.

Thor steps into a small misty clearing where all traces of Loki vanish. There was no more mocking laughter, no more taunts, but he knows Loki is there. He could feel Loki's icy presence hidden in the mist. He could feel those scarlet eyes watching his every move and hear the ever soft clink of jewels that adorned Loki's furs beneath the groans of thunder.

Seconds ticked. The rain continues to fall.

"Will you not play anymore?!" Thor asked.

Lightning flashed.

"Oh Chaos! Where is your taunt?!" He turns, scanning the arctic mist. "Oh Death! Where is your fear?! Or does Death tremble at the sight of a God?!"

Still Loki did not appear.

His cerulean gaze drifted to Mjolnir in his hand. A realization hit him…Loki is afraid of Mjolnir.

Suddenly, laughter burst from his lips and he laughed and he laughed.

Coward!

He lets Mjolnir drop onto the mud with a heavy thud, and at once, laughter died from his lips. He lifted his burning gaze as he steps away from Mjolnir.

One step…two step… three step…four…five…

Rain streamed down every hard edge of his face.

"Come" He said.

There was no mercy in his spitting eyes.

A brush of icy fingers over his cheek, he reeled around just to see Loki disappear into the mist with a taunting smirk.

A touch on the back of his neck, Thor turned. Nothing…

There was a creak this time on his right, and then left.

A shadow streaked behind him, he whirled expecting to see nothing when Loki lunged at him with a shout. The crashing force slammed them both to the ground. Thor's head lashed back, slamming into a jutted rock.

Fiery pain exploded, rippling through his entire scalp.

Lightning struck the pine behind and with a groan; the towering structure fell with a thunderous crash.

Thor smashed his knees into Loki's ribs with enough force to fracture if not break it. Loki let out a strangled cry; his nails tore at Thor's face, slicing Thor's lid and lips.

They grappled and wrestled, punching, bashing... Blow after blow…

It was dirty, it was messy.

The storm screams with the voice of Thor; a thunderstorm of emotion wrecks him. In that instant, he was neither God nor King. He was just an angry boy; lashing out in all consuming anger, pain, agony and sorrow that suffocate him.

He swung his fist, smashing into Loki's nose with a sickening crack, knocking Loki off him.

Blood spattered.

Thor was barely up when Loki screamed, slamming himself at him, knocking Thor back to the mucky ground.

Loki's grip at the rock in his hand was iron and he smashed it over Thor's head.

Agony burst.

Thor's head rang. And again. Within that split of the second before the next blow, Thor thrust his fingers up; seizing Loki's slippery wrist before Loki could bash him again and he squeeze and twisted it hard.

A loud crack whipped.

Loki shrieked, dropping the bloodied rock. Thor could feel the vambrance crush, he could feel bones shatter; crack and break in his grip and with a mighty wrench he threw Loki across the clearing.

Thick hot blood trickles down Thor's temple as he pushes himself up. His chest ached, tears of rage, tears of despair, tears of betrayal… rolled unbidden, mixing with the rain, as he watches Loki silently with all the unspoken words that are dead on his tongue.

Loki panted, getting to his feet. He was covered in mud; blood smeared his face, streaming down his nose.

The portion where the golden vambrance was crushed stabbed into Loki's broken wrist. Blood rolled down his useless hand.

Thunders rumbled, lighting flashed as the rain plummet.

Loki lets out a humorless laugh.

"Is this all you can do?!" He spat. "Show me the boy who is baptized in blood! Show me the man whose grin so terrible that his enemies tremble to behold! The King that is the hurricane and the storm! The God that cannot be contain! Show me…Thor!"

"He is here…come…" Thor rasped; his fingers curled.

They charged.

Ice blade spiked from Loki's left hand.

Thor swung his bloody fist.

Loki dodges, raising his blade. Too late was Thor to react when he saw the flash of blade stabbed down.

White blinding pain ripped up Thor's leg as the blade punctured through his armor, piercing through his knee. With a shout, Loki smashed his elbow hard into Thor's face, knocking Thor to the ground.

Thor gasped; white spots flashed across his vision and for a moment he was stunned.

In a heartbeat, Loki was on him. Frozen fingers flew to latch brutally at his muddy golden locks, dark lips crashed violently against his. Sharp icy pain exploded over his lips; razor teeth sunk deep into his lower lips.

Thor howled in pain and shock; brutal fingers latches at Loki's muddy locks.

Something cold slithered down Thor's throat.

Fire flickered wildly at the edge of Thor's vision.

Before he could haul Loki off, a deep frigid coldness surged, spread through his lungs and clutches at every fiber of him, draining all of his strength. His grip loosened, and then it fell useless on the ground, as he struggled to even breathe. He gasped, chocked; his body twitched and shook as his vision started closing in.

He could see Loki who was straddling him lean back, his chest heaving. Those dark lips were dripping red and his cerulean face was smeared with blood and mud.

"Hush now…" Loki shushed.

Thor could see the exhaustion in those scarlet eyes as Loki caresses his cheek with the back of his dark nails almost tenderly, as if to sooth him.

Enough! He wanted to snarl. Enough with your false love! Enough with your false affection! But all that left his darkening lips were soft chocked groans.

Beads of rain clung to the tip of Loki's muddy ebony bangs. Thor's armor fleck, and began to crack beneath the cold of Loki's skin.

"Sleep my dearest King…" Loki whispered gently. "Sleep my Golden King…and may you dream…" Loki's voice lulled, as darkness engulf Thor's world.

The clamor of shouts, the clamor of steel ringing against steel and ice was deafening and they clashed and blurred into one another. Iron boots smacking hard into the mud. Bodies piled, blood flowed. The thunders rumbled and the rain fall endlessly making the slope a slippery climb.

It was on the third day that Fenrir join the fray. Long teeth snapped through bones and powerful claws tearing through flesh.

Sif caught a glimpse of Loki riding on its back, casting his spells.

The earth shook, and tore apart. There was a loud piercing screech as foul mangled creatures crawled out. Men shouted curses, men begging for mercy… all receiving the same end…death. These foul creatures know no mercy.

Barely having time to look, Sif trusted her sword up, ripping through skin, muscle and heart. The Jotun was dead on his feet.

Emerald flames roared, blazing up the slope, burning Jotun and Aesir alike.

"Get him off that creature now!" Sif roared, as she wrenched her sword out. Blood sprayed.

It took three dozen warriors to make Fenrir reel, throwing Loki off. As long as Loki is on the ground, he could not have the leisure of time to weave a spell too destructive.

Steel scraped against ice.

Thor groaned; his consciousness returning but still he could not move. He could feel the rain falling on his face; he could feel the uncomfortable dampness on his back and the pain that hammered his body.

The sound of steel clashing against ice rang in a distance. The shouting…the screaming… The war has started.

He forces himself to open his eyes, but he could only manage a crack. His ears ranged ever loudly. His arms lay useless beside him no matter how much he willed it to move, managing only to curl his fingers. Mobility was starting to return, but it was slow.

One day blurred into the next; they did not stop. The rain did not stop falling…the fire did not stop burning…

Sif barely dodges a swinging blade. She kicks out with all her might, breaking the enemy's knee.

The Jotun roared.

Sif shouted; swinging her sword up, she cleaved off half the Jotun's face. A shower of blood poured down on Sif and the Jotun fell like an avalanche. Too late were she to get out of the way; and the next thing she knew she was face first in the mud, her lower body was crushed.

Lightning flashed.

Her head was ringing.

She pushes her torso up, her lips parted in agonizing pants. She looked down at the dead Jotun. His arm was bended at a grotesque angle from the fall; half his face was gone and she could see white sharp teeth lined what was left of his bloody jaws.

The cold of Jotun skin was leaving the corpse.

She shoved at him, wriggling, pushing; her nails clawing the mud beneath her, she freed herself. She grabs her fallen sword and forces herself to her shaking feet.

Her vision was getting blurry. She was covered in blood, sweat, flesh and mud. Her numb bloody fingers were shaking and the deep long ugly gash on her upper right arm was still bleeding and she could see her muscle and bones.

They were being slaughtered and Thor is still missing. But she knew he is alive. The storm was proof of that.

She looked up. The battle had moved higher up the slippery slope and only a handful remained on her portion.

She stumbled away from the dead Jotun.

She was moving uphill when movement at the corner of her eyes made her whirl; sword raised; to see a familiar face.

Loki…

Her heart thumped. Her every muscle seized.

"Would you care for one last dance?" Loki asked. His lips were split and bloody; multiple hideous gashes ribbon his arm and abdomen and she could see metallic rods beneath the filthy bandage that bind his right wrist.

"His sword hand…He shattered his wrist before joining the battle" Sif noted.

But it matters not to her.

She steps closer, her fingers tightened, her jaws clenched. Ice blade bloomed from Loki's left hand.

"Do you remember my vow to you?" She asked coldly.

"Do you remember mine?"

"Aye…"

"Come to me, my Queen" Loki smiled.

Sif let out a shout and charged at Loki.

She swung her sword down. Loki raises his blade to meet hers head on. And so they begin their final tango.

Steel rang once…twice... thrice…

Sif came at him hard and fast. Every strike, every blow aimed to kill.

Just like all those decades ago, Loki could read her every move. And just like all those years ago, the ease of her footwork, the strength in her every blow, the fire that burn endlessly in her eyes, the ferocity of her features, that unwavering determination, that courage… Loki thought she was gorgeous… elegant… And woe is he, who could not see the beauty that is her.

Their weapons clashed over and over again in the song of ice and steel, filling their ears, vibrating through their bones. The dance of death. The song of death.

Loki dodges when Sif slashes for his head, striking the tree bark behind him. Wood chipped.

Loki let out a shout, driving his blade up; hard and fast, puncturing Sif's armor piercing through her guts and out the back.

Blood spilled; coating Loki's fingers.

She gasped.

Before Loki could twist the blade, she spat at his face. Loki flinched. With a cry Sif swung her bloody fist, cracking Loki's jaw.

Pain exploded.

Loki stumbled back; almost losing his footing.

Sif lurches after him, ignoring the ice in her abdomen. She screamed; using both hands she raised her sword. Ice spiked from Loki's hand. He had barely raised it when steel crashed down to meet his ice with bone jarring force, cracking the hastily formed weapon.

"Indeed…my Lady of the Death…" Loki slammed his knees into the gaping wound of Sif's guts.

Strangled cry wrenched.

White blinding pain tore through Sif; a pain so intense for a moment it took all of her mind. And that split second was all it took.

"My Goddess of War…" Loki drove the cracked blade through her chest; stabbing through her heart.

Sif coughed; her eyes wide as though in surprise, her sword fell. Blood sputtered from her lips.

Loki releases his blade and he caught her in a fluid motion, pulling her against him intimately, before she could crumble to the ground.

Thick hot blood smeared between them.

Sif chocked; her shaking hand reached to grab Loki's shoulder. Ice bit at her fingers, but she did not feel it.

"It's okay…I've got you…I've got you…" Loki kisses her cheek with shocking intimacy.

The woman who broke every chain of tradition and convention that binds her. Long had the realm of gold seek to tame her…seek to douse the fire that is in her. But she burns the brighter. The stronger, until it blinds the eye to look upon her beauty.

But it's over now. No more pain. No more suffering. To the pearly Gates of Valhalla she will go where he cannot follow.

"Don't…hu-rt…Thor…" She begged.

Loki turns to her. She saw sadness, she saw raw pain…

Her bloody fingers touch his face.

"Loki…" Her vision was tunneling. The sound ringing of steel, the screams of men, they were beginning to fade.

"You are loved…so loved…" She heard Loki's voice.

And she found that she wanted to believe in his words. She wanted to believe that after everything she had fought for, stood for; at least someone would care that she is gone. She felt his lips on hers, kissing her as if a lover. She would kiss him back if she could.

If she had imagined what dying would be like, it was not this. If there was a word to describe how she felt in that last moment…it was happiness.

Her hand dropped. Her eyes drifted shut. And she died not alone thinking of the love she had never received from Thor, or her failings as a commander or how she was never a proper Aesir woman or the disappointment she was as an unmarried daughter. She died in Loki's arm…told that she is so loved, as she is. And she lets herself believe him.

There was a wet noise when Loki pulls back slowly. His face was thick with her blood.

He was lowering her to the ground when he heard a shout from behind him.

"No!" The voice rang.

Loki whirled. Mjolnir, slammed into his chest, shattering his ribs and he was thrown across the slope. His body smash hard against the muddy ground, his head lashed back, slamming into ancient roots.

Loki coughed, fire sheered though his lungs.

Blood trickled down the back of his head.

He lifted his gaze, pain tearing through him with every move. He could see Thor, cradling Sif in his arm.

"No...No!" Thor gasped; his shaking fingers brushes Sif face with such painful tenderness.

Loki tried pushing himself up. Blinding pain ripped through him. He let out a gasped, his arms let out. He looked back at Thor. His blood ran cold at the fury of Thor's expression bearing at him. Mjolnir crackled dangerously in Thor's hand.

Loki's fingers curled; ice blade grew anew. His head was spinning, he could scarce breath.

There was a crunch behind Loki.

Helblindi and two of his men step between Thor and him.

"I shall be your opponent my Lord of Aesir" Helblindi said.

Fear struck Loki.

No…no…! Thor will kill Helblindi!

"Blindi…" Loki managed to croak faintly. It hurts to even speak.

"Take him" Helblindi ordered.

"No! Let the warriors fight! You take me away!" "No… Blindi…" Loki forced out, trying with agony to push himself up.

A Jotun warrior move to pick him up. Pain sheered, rippled through Loki's entire body. He let out a strangled cry as he was hefted up. Helblindi did not even turn to regard him.

"Hel-blindi…" Loki mumbled; passing out.

Thor did not stop them from taking Loki though his eyes followed them until he could see them no more.

"Shall we?" Ice blade grew from each of Helblindi's hand.

Thor lifted Mjolnir. At once thunders crashed, lightning streaked, slamming into Mjolnir and sizzled, crackling wildly over the entirety of Thor's body. His eyes glowed and cracked with lightning. The earth groaned.

In the dream, Loki was standing once again in that little cottage that was hidden in the snowy mountains. The walls were cracked and old, and the floor had been made of packed snow and dirt. A small fire crackled and glowed at the corner of the room. Unfinished wood carvings were laid messily on the little wooden table.

And Loki could see her…

Though she sat on the bed with her back to him; Loki knew it was her… Angrboða. His dearest Angrboða. A runt like him.

She hummed her sweet lullaby, rocking Hela in her arms.

Loki approaches her slowly, knowing that this is nothing more than a dream. Knowing that he should not dwell on them, but yet, he could not stop himself… He wanted to see her face again. Just one more time. Always one more time...

He reaches out to touch her shoulder.

"Oh Loki, you are back" She smiles, turning to look upon him.

Loki stilled; his every muscle seized and his lungs tightened painfully at the sight of her.

She was always so happy when he would return to their cottage. Always so happy, even with what little they had.

She needed no gold or jewels from Loki. She needed neither a crown nor a palace to reside. She demanded nothing of him and accepted that he must leave her for weeks or months on ends. She did not care that she was Loki's little secret. She loves him whole heartedly as he is.

"I've returned…" Loki caresses his fingers over her slender features.

Translucent red eyes; long cascading hair as white as snow and as soft as satin. Not a single Jotun line marred her cerulean skin for she is a runt, a shame… Disowned at birth and cast aside the moment she was of age.

A fate that could easily have been his had he not been from the line of Kings or had his dam and sire cared a little more of public perception or had he been weaker.

"I've missed you…so much" His eyes burn, his chest hurt so badly he could hardly breathe.

He was crying and in that moment, he did not care. And even if he did care, he did not think he could stop the tears from falling. It was as if the wall he had built inside of himself had crumbled. All his anguish, his pain, his sorrows and fears, they came pouring; drowning him. He wanted to tell her everything… everything!

But she is dead. He killed her.

"Loki? What's the matter?" She asked urgently.

Loki shook his head.

She frowned, placing Hela down in the cot beside the bed.

Loki was grateful that she did not place Hela in his arms. Even now, he could feel her foulness emanating from that bundle Angrboða had so lovingly held in her arms.

A hand reach to cup his face, dainty thumb wipes his tears away.

"My Lord…?" Angrboða whispered.

"I love you…so…so much…" Loki tells her.

He did not know when, but soon…he will not see her anymore. His dreams would once again be plague with the wrath of Hela. With every dark spell he cast, she draws closer. He knows Iduun would not sustain him for much longer.

These little dreams of Angrboða, of Thor and of what could have been…These emotions he feels…this love, this warmth… it would soon gradually be robbed of him again as it should be. Redemption, happiness, love…they are not intended for a soul as foul as his.

She smiles.

"As do I" She draws close to him, her fingers brushed the stray strands of his ebony bangs aside.

Loki smiles painfully, tears rolled. He could feel an ice blade growing from his hand…He knew what came next.

"I need power or I am nothing…you understand don't you, my love…?"

"I love you Loki…" She said.

He nodded, her face blurred behind a veil of tears, but even so, he could hear her voice calling for him…

Loki… Loki…

Icy fingers touched him.

He groaned; pain tearing, clawing his entire body as his consciousness slowly return.

"Loki? Child…"

Loki moaned, forcing his hard heavy lids apart. His entire body was burning; his throat was so dry he could hardly speak. He could see a shadow moving in front of him.

"Loki…can you hear me?" The voice lulled.

Loki's vision cleared and he could see Laufey kneeling down beside his bed. Laufey looked worried; he looked terrible, as if he hadn't slept for weeks.

"Thank the Norns" Laufey breathes.

"Dam…" he croaked. He could barely move his swollen jaw.

"You are finally awake. I'll get you some water" Laufey ordered the servants to bring water.

"Finally awake?" How long had he been out?

"We won" Laufey tells him. "We've lost quite some men, but we won"

"That's…good… to hear…" Loki lifted an aching hand to touch the bandage on his chest. It was crusty with herbs and blood.

He remembers Sif…he remembers Thor…Helblindi… His guts twisted.

"The boy King came too late thanks to you. He may be powerful, but not even the son of Odin can take on an entire army" Laufey says.

"Dam…" Loki rasped.

"Aye…?"

"Blindi…Where… Helblindi…"

Laufey's smile vanished.

"No…Please no…!" Loki begged.

"He's been missing for over a month" Laufey said hollowly. "Most likely his body had burnt along with the rest on the slope"