AN: I've not abandoned my other fic. It's just been so busy, and any writing I do is spur of the moment while the plot bunny is biting. This is an angsty bit that I've had running around my head for some time. Planned to be multi-chapter.

Jotenheim

Present Day

Snow lashed against Thor's face in an icy gale that blurred Jotenheim into phantoms and shadows. He fought to keep his footing as the screeching winds intensified, threatening to topple him despite his footing and bulk.

"Is that all you've got!?" he roared as the winds snatched the words away from him, "You hide behind illusions like a coward! Face and fight me!"

As if in response to his challenge, a shadowy figure emerged to his right, barely visible against the blizzard. Thor didn't hesitate, lunging with all the fury he possessed, but Mjolnir never made contact. The silhouette swerved away so fluidly that he would have thought it a figment of his imagination, if not for a pair of slender blue hands that suddenly wrapped around his forearm. With a vicious tug, Thor found himself off balance, and a blow later he finally toppled.

He lay winded for only a moment, but that was all it would take. The magical windstorm died as quickly as it came, a few flakes drifting peacefully to settle on his brow, and he found himself staring up at a face that would have been familiar but for the shades of snow and ice and eyes the color of blood.

But the icy dagger halted at his throat and the fatal blow never came. In its stead, Lady Luck offered her first act of providence since coming to this accursed land, as the sky split into light and color as the Bifrost opened. Thor gave no thought as to who may be coming through to their aid, only that it seemed to call off the onslaught, for fear or momentary surprise, and his adversary had halted in the heat of battle. Thor would not make the same mistake.

His strength returned in measures only multiplied by this dance to the death, Thor struck. And for the first time since the battle had begun, he made contact.

In a sizzle of electricity and the sound of shattering bone, the figure was launched through the air until he was met by the cliff face, some dozen feet away. Before he had so much as collapsed to the ground, Thor was upon him again, hand bunched in clothing and pinning him back against the rocks. The only sign of struggle came from one of those hands wrapped about his wrist, too weak to even burn.

"Where," breathed Thor with fury that burst at the seams. "Is he? What have you done with my brother, monster?"

The mouth twisted at the corner, despite the blood that had begun to trickle from it. "He's right here."

"Liar!" Thor roared, "Tell me where he is before I—"

"Thor, stop!"

There were few things in the Nine Realms that could halt the thunderer's temper at its height, but those two words, spoken with such power and authority, and more than a little magic, stopped Thor in his tracks. He turned his startled, furious gaze towards the man who had spoken.

"Father!" he growled, "The monsters of Jotenheim have taken Loki. They—"

"Thor, release him," Odin interrupted, calm tones belying an anger that at this moment more than matched his son's.

"Father, this is a trick! I saw him change before my own eyes!"

"THOR ODINSON, RELEASE MY SON THIS INSTANT."

There were others now, if Thor had card to notice. Sif and the Warrior Three had gathered about Odin's party, supporting each other through their various wounds. And surrounding them on every side, an army of frost giants watched with red eyes glinting viciously.

Whatever was to be said next was interrupted by the sound of chuckling. Thor's eyes were drawn back to the figure he still pinned against the cliff, but more specifically to the hand that still grasped his. He watched with a horror as pale color seeped into the blue, overrunning it until the familiar features were replaced and a familiar pair of green eyes watched with a fading light. By this point, the chuckles had evolved into a painful, mirthless laughter wet with its own blood. And then, as suddenly as they had come, they died away.

"I win the bet, Odin All-Father." The words were spoken loud enough to hear, but shaking with the effort. There was a smile on his face, equal parts sad and triumphant, and for a brief moment green eyes met blue. And then, as though the final string had snapped, he slumped forward.

Thor caught him, purely out of an instinct more natural than the feel of Mjolnir in his hand. For a moment, the entire world held still.

"You didn't hesitate," came a soft whisper in his ear, "Who is the monster now?"

And then the moment passed, and the entire world collapsed into chaos.