(Author's Notes: I recently discovered that I was spelling "wyvern" wrong. I had only heard the word in an audio book before and it was definitely pronounce "wren", but when I was searching for new monster ideas I found the correct spelling. I also discovered that a "wren" is actually a type of small bird. A far cry from the small dragon I was writing about. I have now updated the previous chapters with the corrections. Sorry for any confusion. *bow*

*The events of this chapter take place well before the first Thor movie.)

Chapter 5: Spine Fruit & Dragons (Really Again?)

When Loki woke for the second time after the wyvern fiasco the light was beginning to fade again and he was starving. Not like this was any mystery, the last time he had eaten was at least 24 hours ago. His stomach felt like there was an angry badger trying to claw its way out of him. He stood slowly testing his wounds with care, before he walked over to the clear mountain spring. He knelt down and deftly shifted a fallen leaf into a emerald glass and dipped it into the cool water. He lifted the glass to his parched lips. He sipped slowly at first, but after the first taste of the cool liquid he began to drink deeply. He was so preoccupied by hunger that he had not initially realized how parched he was. The blood loss must have severely dehydrated him.

After downing six more glasses the lightheaded, shaking feeling he hadn't notice passed, leaving him wondering how he had not felt it until it was gone. The clawing hunger he had felt waned slightly now that his stomach was filled with water, but he would still need to eat soon. He stumbled as he stood and began to walk along the edge of the stream heading towards where the trees grew thicker. There would probably be some edible wild plants near the water and foraging would be faster than walking all the way back to town.

Loki wandered for some time before he came upon a copse of Spine Fruit trees. Ironically the fruit itself had soft, smooth, and tender flesh. It was the tree's trunk that had the spines. Each spine was at least the length of his forearm and narrowed to a razor sharp point. Even if the spines were spaced far enough apart to be able for him to use as and holds, the spines were fare to flexible and were coated in fine toxic hairs waiting to imbed themselves in his palms.

Loki stared longingly up at the branches laden with spine fruit. He could just make out the glistening dew drops as they reflected the moonlight. He didn't have enough energy for anything more than maintain the mirage back in the castle. Keeping his spell maintained from this distance was draining what little reserves he had left. His head was beginning to pound from the effort. He really needed to eat, but there was no way his hands were going anywhere near that tree trunk.

Slowly, he paced around the tree looking for a weak spot. There were several spine fruit trees on either side of the stream, but not a single one had a low hanging branch. Each trunk was at least twelve feet tall before they began to split into branches. Ask he was scouting out a particularly rocky area something caught on his foot and he fell to his knees. With a glare he turned and pulled his ankle from between the two boulders. When he finally pulled his ankle free it was throbbing and the stick that had kept his foot wedged between the boulders was pulled free too. He wasn't sure if you could call it a stick though. It was at least 4 feet long and ramrod straight except for two thin branches that still had a few decomposed bunches of leaves clinging to its sides. Slowly a wonderful plan began to form.

After much more menial labor than he would normally have been willing to do, Loki managed to use his dagger to form the stick into a passable spear. Most importantly, he had a large pile of fruit that he was quickly devouring despite several having a large hole from the spear. He sat quietly as he ate, looking up at the stars above his head. One of his favorite things to do when he was younger was to go to the astronomy tower with his mother. She would spend hours pointing out different constellations and telling him the stories that they were named for.

Now as he sat perched below them he counted all the ones he could name as a personal challenge. He was up to 43 when Loki heard a rustle coming from one of the trees nearby. Instinctively he rested his hand on his dagger's hilt as it rested strapped to his right hip, but no other sound came. Slowly he lowered his hand and settled back onto the bolder he was perched on. He watched the underbrush for a few more moments before turning back to the stars. He grabbed another spine fruit from the dwindling pile and his hand brushed over something foreign. He jerked his hand back from the tail in surprise, the rough edges of the scales cutting into his fingertips. Instantly grumpy from the unexpected pain, Loki turned to glare at the creature that was now curled around his fruit. The tiny wyvern was scarfing down what few fruits remain swallowing them whole. As far as he could see the creature had no teeth at all. Loki grabbed his makeshift spear and swatted at the wyvern with the blunt end to shoo it away from his spoils. The shaft had at least a two inch diameter but the wyvern wrapped its tail around the middle and in one quick motion used the razorlike scales to shred it to splinters. Loki pulled back what little remained of his spear and turned back to the wyvern just as it jumped to its talons and fluffed out its feather crest. It stood defensively in front of the fruit and let out an angry chirp, flashing its fangs in warning.

Loki was momentarily stunned by the tiny critter's brazen threat. It stood barely over a foot tall, with tiny needle like fangs. Its feather crest gave it five or six more inches of height, but its dull grey color only emphasized its youth. Its long thin neck ended with a short snouted reptilian shaped head that had a fine coating of feathers and two oversized pointed ears just in front of its feather crest that were twisted back like an angry cat. Its long wing feathers were a dull grey that matched the feathers on its head and dappled in silver. The thin layer of pale blue feathers on its face also covered its neck, torso, and its short raptor like arms. The only scales on this miniature dragon were on its two large black talons and its razor like tale that led partway up its back in a thin strip of scales that were interrupted by three small spikes. It glared back at him with bright gold eyes that had no pupil before it scooped up the las fruit with its fore claws and ran into the shrubbery.

Not about to let the thief escape, Loki dove in after it. The wyvern dove through thickets and brambles like they were nothing but clouds. Even with all of Loki's combat training, he had a hard time keeping up. Just as he thought the wyvern would get away the forest parted to reveal a cliff. The wyvern paused at the edge and turned back to Loki making a low hiccupping sound, as if laughing, before leaping over the edge.

Loki managed to grab a low hanging tree branch, stopping him just before he went over the edge too. Silently he glared daggers at the wyvern as it glided down the sheer drop to the protected valley below. The valley was shielded by a semi-circle of steep cliff face on one side and thick trees on the other. Near the left edge of the cliff was a narrow waterfall that was at least 30 feet high. At the bottom of the fall was a small pool of water that fed a small stream that cut through the valley with gentle curves until it disappeared into the treelined. The valley itself was lush and green, dotted with small groves of blackberry bushes.

Looking at the valley he was not surprised that there was such a large colony of wyvern living here. The cliff face was covered in ledges of all shapes and sizes and nearly every one of them had a nest built on it. Loki estimated 40 adult wyvern and a billion chicks running in every direction, not to mention all the clutches of eggs tucked out of sight in the nests. Finally Loki spotted his dappled fruit stealer gliding towards the falls. Loki could just make out a nest tucked behind the waterfall away from the other nests. The wyvern landed clumsily on the slippery rocks, but managed to keep ahold of its prize at it curled up next to another wyvern, presumably its mother from the lack of head crest. The adult wyvern was considerably larger than her son and had feathers in a rich dark blue.

The dappled wyvern nudged the fruit towards its mother, who awkwardly sat up and began to eat. Loki notice as the wyvern tipped its head back to swallow the fruit whole, that one of her back talons was twisted in an unnatural position. With a leg like that she would still be able to fly, but landing would be both painful and dangerous. Once the fruit was gone the mother nuzzled up to her hatchling as her feathers slowly faded from navy to a soft pink. The dappled wyvern was still a fruit thief though.

Loki settled onto the cliff ledge to watch the wyvern colony for a little while longer before he headed back home. He wasn't really looking forward to sitting in his room for 4 more weeks. He was curious about the color shifting feathers though, He would have to sneak out again later with a scroll and pen. This could be a good research project. It was incredibly rare to find a wyvern nesting ground. They tended to migrate four times a year and based on the overcrowding issue this colony was having they probably would not be able to use this one for much longer. He would hate to let an opportunity like this pass him by. After all, he was already learning a lot.

Near the top of the cliff there were two males facing off on a thin ledge, their feather crests flashing red in the moonlight. Hatchlings ran in circles around the blackberry bushes as they tried to keep the others away from "their" bush. Every once in a while a few would band together and claim a blackberry grove for a while, but eventually they would start squabbling amongst themselves and the game would start all over again. The dappled wyvern perked up at the sight and jumped down into the fray. He ran toward one of the blackberry groves, but before he could get anywhere close the whole group of hatchlings turn and chased him away.

The dappled wyvern tried a few more times with the same result before he finally gave up. Loki looked around for an explanation and realized that he wasn't seeing any other wyvern with spotted wings. Why would such a small difference be causing such animosity from his own kind. Not that Loki cared, it's not like it was going to affect him. The wyvern was a fruit thief and nothing more.

The sun was just beginning to lighten the edge of the sky when Loki stood and dusted himself off. All the hatchlings were returning to their nests and the adults were returning with the last fruits from their night of forging. There were even a few already asleep, their feathers dulled to a neutral grey as they drifted into unconsciousness. He wasn't going to have much to observe other than the century posted on the cliff ledge for a while so he might as well go home.

Loki was just passing the first line of trees when he heard a familiar screech and he suddenly felt the need to start ramming his head against a tree repeatedly. He slowly turned around to see a shadow circling in the sky. Seriously, weren't dragons supposed to be rare? The sentinels shrunk into themselves at the sight, their feather crests flashed dark blue before they stood tall and began flashing bright red. Once alerted all the nearby wyvern dove into their nests, covering themselves with their wings, and shifting the feathers to blend with their surroundings. They were completely invisible as long as they didn't move. The chicks dove toward their mothers, their grey feathers blending with the stone good enough to keep from drawing attention to themselves before they could reach the cover of their mothers' wings.

Their cloaking instincts seemed to be working because the bronze colored dragon was losing interest. Loki breathed a sigh of relief. He did not want to ever be involved with another dragon again. He was still recovering from his last encounter with a fire breathing demon. Not wanting to draw attention to himself either, Loki slowly lowered himself into the undergrowth to wait until it was safe to leave.

Loki's heart stopped as the dragon suddenly made a sharp turn and began to decent. Quickly turning his attention to the ground below him, Loki saw a wyvern hatchling with its head peering out of one of the blackberry groves. When it spotted the dragon it ducked back into the branches, but the damage was already done. The dragon's claws clicked on the stones as he landed less than 100 yards from where Loki sat shrouded in leaves, not unlike the unfortunate hatchling. The bronze dragon's horns row up towards the rising sun as its burning gold eyes bore into the bushes the wyvern sat huddled in. This dragon was only half the size of the dragon Loki had fought with Thor, its wingspan only 80 feet. The dragon still seemed massive from where Loki crouched, its head rising at least three stories above him even while crouched.

As it stalked towards the cliff edge the colony of wyvern began to shift uneasily. The dragon leapt off the ledge as if it were just a particularly steep step and landed near the blackberry grove. The hatchling panicked, bolting from the bushes and running towards the nest across the valley. Spurred into action the colony took to the air to protect one of their own. They zipped back and forth passed the dragon's head, their feathers flashing red to distract the monster from its target. The dragon snapped at the wyvern as they flew around him, but they were faster. They twisted and turned in the air like acrobats nipping at eyes and wings. Anywhere they could sink their fangs in. The wyvern continued their onslaught until the dragon began to sway from the effects of their poison. As Loki watched from the shadows, the dragon stumbled. Its large wings outstretched for balance, the dragon fell against the cliff wall causing the earth to tremble. Ledges, nests, eggs, and all fell to the valley floor from the rockslide the impact caused. Sheltering mothers and hatchlings fled for safety.

Loki stood aghast as the rock ledge sheltered by the waterfall gave way beneath the dappled hatchling and his mother. The injured mother spread her wings to take flight, but in her panic one wing spread too far and was caught by the flow of the waterfall. The hatchling snatched her tail in his mouth and attempted to pull her back on balance, but her weight was too much for him and he was pulled in too. They tumbled talon over tail as the water swept them down into the pond. It was several long moments before a feathered head broke through the surface of the water. The dappled wyvern splashed and sputted to the edge of the pond and sank onto the bank exhausted.

Relieved, Loki looked back for the mother but she was nowhere to be seen. The panting hatchling lifted hits head from the sand in search of its mother. Finally, he spotted her still form washed up on the shallow waters by the stream. Struggling to stand on shaking talons the hatchling hurried to her side. He pushed her snout up onto the dry shore and nuzzled her feathers making a soft squeaking noise. His cries of distress did not wake his mother and only served to draw unwanted attention.

The dragon rose shaking its head in confusion trying to zero in on the noise of injured prey. The dragon's wings sagged, scoring into the earth as he move slowly towards the hatchling. The paralysis from the wyvern venom was beginning to take effect and he stumble more than stalked towards the hatchling. The brave little wyvern turned to face his attacker, its wings and feather crest puffed out in anger. A faint red flush lit his feathers, making the silver spots stand out even more as he warned the dragon away from his mother.

Finally Loki could take no more. He broke from cover and lobbed his last vialed spell at the dragon's vulnerable wings. When the vial shattered on impact, ice rapidly spread to cover both wings and the dragon's right front talon. The dragon roared in pain thrashing its head from side to side in an attempt to work itself free of the heavy layers of ice. Seeing their chance the colony rushed in fangs flashing and attacking with everything they had. The dragon panicked twisting and turning as he tried to fight them off. There was a squawk of pain as the dragon's tail swung through the air. Loki looked for the source to see the dappled hatchling laying unmoving on the other side of the stream.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash. Loki turned back to the fight to see that the dragon had broken free of the ice. The dragon's wings stretched over the valley as he lifted off the ground to flee into the sky. The colony of wyvern gave chase, diving like bird moving a predator until he was no longer in sight. Loki began to climb down the rockslide picking his way for a stable path. As he climbed the wyvern began to filter back. The mothers gathered their hatchlings to them and foraged through the rocks in search for any eggs that survived the rockslide. They would have to migrate early. The valley was no longer livable, let alone safe. The dragon would come back now that it had found this home. The males carries the eggs that they found and the mothers herded the hatchlings. Those old enough to fly stayed in the center of the flock as they flew away. Those that were too young were carried by their mothers.

The colony was already fading into the sky as he reached what was left of the valley floor. Carefully he knelt next to the still form of the dappled hatchling's mother. There was no breath in her body and her pulse was still. There was nothing he could do for her now. Slowly he rose and crossed the stream to where her hatchling lay. His right wing lay at an odd angle but he was still breathing. Carefully he scooped up the creature in his arms. Loki wasn't one for animals or healing, but he knew someone who was.

As Loki climbed back through his window with his bundle tucked carefully under his arm. He turned to see two glowing gold eyes. Perched like a sphinx in the center of his bed was a nemean lion. Its jet black fur and luminescent gold spots contrasted beautifully with his emerald green duvet. It was shaped like a Midgard serval cat, with its long legs stretched in front of it and its large, round ears perked in interest. His mother Frigga reached out and softly stroked its head.

"Nubia always knew when you would sneak in and out of the castle when you were little. Nothing much seems to have changed," said Frigga with a smile. "You have been out far to long my son. I was beginning to worry something had happened."

"Something did happen, but I handled it," replied Loki.

"Did this 'something' have to do with Thor slipping out of his chambers two nights ago?"

Shocked Loki asked, "How did you know?"

"A mother always knows," she said simply. "Did you boys at least look out for one another? I know how you two can fight."

"There was fighting but not between me and Thor for once," said Loki. "I'm glad you are here though, I need your guidance." He gently held out the bundle he held to her.

She carefully held the bundle as she pulled back the cloth to reveal the wyvern hatchling. She let out a soft gasp as she saw the broken wing. She set him down gently next to Nubia's paws and turned to face him. "Grab me some towels and warm water." He did as she commanded and knelt beside her. "I haven't taught you the healing arts yet. They are not your natural gift and will take much more energy for you to perform. You are not ready yet, but watch me carefully. This will help you learn faster when the time comes." Her palm glowed as she said the words of power clearly so that he could hear and remember.

As the light began to dim, the wyvern stirred. Suddenly his eyes shot open and he bolted. He crashed head long into Nubia. She sat up quickly and batted at the pest with sheathed paws. Flustered, the wyvern ran around the room in search of a way out. The wyvern spotted Loki. Seeing him as the only recognizable thing in the room he dashed to huddle beneath his cloak. Nubia looked on with distaste.

Frigga gently removed the hatchling from his hiding spot and cradled him to her chest. "Easy there little one," she coed. "We won't hurt you." She turned her attention back to Loki, "What are you going to call him?"

"Call him? Why would I need to call him? He just needed healed so I brought him to you."

"So you plan to release him? Do you know where his colony is?"

"Not exactly, but his instincts will lead him to them."

"He is too young to fly on his own for very far. Do you at least know where his mother is?"

"She is dead."

His mother paused for a moment before saying, "Then he will stay here. I will not cast one so young out."

"I know how you are about strays but father will never allow it."

"Ignoring him she said, "Well if you won't name him I will." She looked him over carefully. "What unusual markings." She held him up to the light. "They glow like little specks of moonlight." She turned back to Loki, "That's it. Shin-ah. It means moonlight."

(Author Notes: *End of backstory squirrel.* The next chapter will start the beginning of the first Thor movie. "Thank you for your patients.")

Loki's Notes

Wyvern are empaths that tend to mimic the emotions they sense. They have a toxic venom that will paralyze foes. They are often targeted by poachers for their feathers and venom that are rare ingredients for powerful spells. Very little is actually known or written about the wyverns as a species.

Feather Color meanings

Grey- neutral (asleep)/juvenile

Yellow- Unknown

Green- Unknown

Pink- bashful/affectionate

Red- warning

Black- Unknown

Blue- sad

Navy- depressed/sick/scared

Orange- Unknown

White- Unknown

Purple- Unknown