Chapter 7- Thor, Part 2

Before the troll's fists found Thor, a dagger flew through the air and embedded itself between the troll's eyes. The creature blinked stupidly and began stumbling backwards, crying out in pain as more daggers struck its face. Screeching and forgetting about Thor, it tried to remove the daggers, giving Thor the chance to end its miserable existence with one mighty blow from Mjolnir.

As he went to remove the daggers from the troll, Thor's hand stilled as he watched all but one fade away. The last dagger rose gracefully in the air and flew back to where Greta stood, hand outstretched. Around her laid dead goblins with dagger wounds upon their bodies. Belatedly, Thor realized that he had done the least in this battle. Biting back a curse, he waited for someone to call out his lack of use. Surely his father would scold him for his bad form. Yet, no rebuke came. Everybody calmly cleaned their weapons, re-formed the circle and continued on.

The silence was suffocating for Thor. He was used to the cheerful voices of his friends when they went on their adventures. At last, he could take no more and asked Vidar how he had taken the rock troll down so easily. Without looking back, Vidar replied that a rock troll's weak point was the spot between it's eyes. If a warrior strikes it just right, the troll will fall dead as Thor had witnessed earlier. It was a short answer and Vidar did not seem willingly to go into detail, so Thor turned to Ingnar and asked how his axe had been able to cut through the troll's tough skin. That earned a more lively reply.

The old cook scolded Thor, asking him if he had only air in his head. "Think you that you're only one worthy to wield a weapon of great power? I saw how you looked upon my weapon- as if it was lesser because it does not shine as yours does. But my Gimlocke need not shine to keep its blade sharp. Many know of its worth, though none among your generation would have that knowledge. Aye, as easily as your hammer can call upon the lightening, my Gimlocke can cut through anything."

Thor wanted to know more. It was not often he came upon others who carried weapons as powerful as Mjolnir. Yet Thor staved off his questions because he could tell Ingnar was becoming annoyed with him. He turned to Greta and asked if her dagger was the same. The older woman shook her head and quietly explained that it was a spell casted on the dagger that allowed her to create multiples. It was a spell of necessity during the Jotunheim War because it gave the healers more than one weapon without depleting the Asgard's weapon supplies.

Again, Thor noticed that Greta stopped talking after she had answered the question. He could not understand why they were so reluctant to speak. Thor understood the need to be alert and on guard but they could do that and speak at the same time. Sif, the Warriors 3 and himself had been able to do so on their quests. Why then, could this older generation not do the same?

Before he could ask, his father walked closer to him and began to speak softly in Thor's ear. "You wonder why this party is so grim and silent. It is not meant in disrespect but they have never had the pleasure of gallivanting off to other realms to fight and party as they please. They know little of adventuring; their battles happened only in war. Your generation has had the luxury of never seeing war. You think you know it because you have fought enemies of your own making but Thor, you do not know war. These people around you, though? They know it. They know its wrath and despair and they loathe it. The guards you view as simpletons have gone on countless missions to retrieve supplies, rescue imprisoned warriors and steal vital information. The man you think of as a grouchy old cook is a war hero who has done many great deeds both on and off the battle field. The woman that cared for you as a child when you mother and I could not, was a renowned healer who saved the lives of many. You see them as you want: useless, unneeded and unnecessary. But my son, they are none of these things and they deserve the respect you seem so reluctant to give."

Thor was about to reply when Vidar stopped and gave a hand gesture to halt. Again, he made hand signals to the others. Thor wondered if they were military hand signals used in the war because everyone but him knew what they meant. He made a silent note to ask Vidar more about it when they returned to the palace. With weapon in hand and great stealth, Vidar crept toward a clump of bushes, the others following a few paces behind. As they moved closer, Thor heard the sound of someone trying to breathe as quietly as possible. Vidar's hand shot into the bushes and pulled out a dwarf.

The dwarf's clothing was ripped in various places and from the amount of wounds on his body, it was clear he was suffering from blood loss. Hazy eyes frantically danced across the company before resting on Odin. Upon seeing the All Father, the dwarf's eyes widen and he immediately began to try and bow and beg for mercy through his labored breaths.

With a single nod to Vidar, the guard moved out of the way and allowed Odin to see the dwarf. Quietly, in an angry voice, the All Father asked why he should spare one who had taken something precious from him with so little regard to the hurt it would cause. The dwarf sputtered and explained that he had nothing against Prince Loki or anyone in Asgard. He claimed he had not even known of the kidnapping until it was too late and had no choice but to participate. Indeed, he was on his way to back to Asgard to explain his side and take his punishment.

The All Father sighed heavily as the dwarf fell silent. "Even now you lie with your serpent tongue, you wicked creature! Truly, you think that I am unaware of your true form?" Upon saying this, Odin tapped his spear upon the dwarf's head and the dwarf turned into a cave goblin. "The moment we met your brethren in the woods, we knew of your ruse to frame the dwarves of my son's kidnapping. Never have your races shared love for one another. No doubt you meant to kill my son so that I would go to war with the dwarves. With them focused on fighting us, your people would be able to claim the mountains you covet so much. But tell me, foul being, how have you come by your injuries?"

The cave goblin's face twisted into an ugly scowl and he cursed the All Father and all of Asgard. The creature began to rant and rave, screaming obscenities and cursing Loki for injuring him so grievously. This lasted for a short fashion before the All Father grew impatient and killed the creature.

Thor felt hope grow in his chest. Loki was alive! And while his little brother had not killed this abhorrent thing, he had been able to injure it severely. Perhaps Loki had been able to do the same to the other goblins? Thor frowned. No, it was more likely that Loki had managed to strike this one after slyly slipping from whatever means the goblins used to subdue him. Angry, Thor withheld a growl, vowing to wipe out all the cave goblins in existence for any hurts Loki suffered under their care.

The rescue party continued on, following the tracks left by the goblin. As they walked, the sound of yelling and the clashing of metal was heard. A battle was taking place ahead and the party quickened their pace. They made their way to a clearing and stopped dead at the sight that beheld them.

It was not a battle.

It was a massacre.

All around lay dead goblins and trolls. From the looks of the tents and campfire, this was a stake-out camp for the cave goblins. Thor cared little for these details as he drank in the sight of his brother gracefully wielding a broadsword against two goblins.

A broadsword. The one weapon Loki could never master. Or so Thor had thought. So used was he to seeing Loki incorporating his magic into his daggers and staff, Thor had forgotten Loki knew of the weapon all together. Why his brother wasn't using his magic became clear as Thor spied cuffs upon his brother's wrists and neck; all engraved with runes designed to suppress magic.

Loki had not noticed them, busy taunting and fighting off the goblins. He drove his sword through one goblin's chest and quickly jerked back, releasing the corpse to the forest floor. The last goblin, already suffering wounds, was no match for the anger of the second son and also met his end.

Apparently, Loki did not need rescuing.

But then, a rock troll that all thought was dead stood back up. With Loki's back to it, he had no chance to defend himself. With a mighty roar, the troll began to attack only to discover . . .

. . . daggers implanted in its face.

. . . eleven swords gutted in its stomach.

. . . an axe cleaving through its chest.

. . . a spear driven into its throat.

. . . and a hammer coming down upon its skull with a sickening crunch.

Whirling around, Loki's green eyes widened at the sight of his brother, father, and several dear friends glaring down at an over-killed troll before looking at him in concern. Valhalla, he was a sight to look upon. Most Asgardians, when ripped and bloodied from a fight looked as they should; warriors that had emerged victorious. Loki, however, with his slim frame and big eyes looked like he needed to be tucked away in bed for a few months and doted on. All felt their protective instincts rise up when looking at him in such a state.

"Oh. You came." Loki said in disbelief, dropping his sword as his eyes rolled back in his head. Thor was quick to catch his brother before he hit the floor, Greta right behind him. After laying Loki down on the ground, Greta slowly bullied Thor out of the way so she could check Loki's injuries. As she worked, Odin removed the cuff around Loki's neck while Vidar took the ones from his wrists. Then, Thor and Ingnar used their weapons to destroy them. As they did this, Vidar's men gathered up the bodies to burn and searched the camp. They discovered stolen goods from Asgard- explaining how Loki gotten his hands on a broadsword- as well as detailed plans on not only Loki's kidnapping but what the goblins had planned to do with him afterwards. Thor felt sick to his stomach reading the words and would have destroyed the letters but Odin stopped him, citing the papers would be needed for evidence.

The healing glow of Greta's magic faded and she looked to the All Father, telling him that she had done what she could. Loki was suffering from severe exhaustion and had mostly superficial wounds with the exception of one stab wound that had punctured his right lung. Both Odin and Thor winced at that. Of all the things to be injured, the lungs were the worst option. Greta assured them that once Loki was taken to the healing rooms, he would be whole again. She also went on to say that he would be able to handle travel through the Bifrost. Thor could have kissed her for that news.

Odin gently gathered Loki in his arms and called upon Heimdall to take them back. In the blink of an eye, they were at the bridge. Heimdall, seeing Loki's wounds, had called ahead for healers with Frigga at the forefront, eager to see her son. Thor felt disembodied as he watched them lay Loki on a stretcher, muttering their spells as they took him back to the palace. Loki should not be on that stretcher, he should not be wounded at all! He should be in the library scouring over dusty scrolls. He should be running from angry nobles he had just pranked or visiting that run downed district he loved so much. He should be anywhere but in the healing wards suffering from battle wounds.

Thor didn't know how he made it back to the palace. Someone must have guided him. All he knew is that it felt like an eternity before a healer entered the hallway where he sat, waiting for news. He jumped up at seeing her and for the first time, noticed he was not alone in the halls. His father and mother were there as were all who had been in the rescue party. The healer gave them a smile and told them Loki had stabilized. He would need to rest for a week or so but he would be well.

That week, Thor stayed at Loki's side leaving only to bathe and relieve himself. His brother slept through most of it and seemed surprised to find Thor sitting with him when he awoke. Did Loki think Thor would not care that he was hurt? Thor's heart ached at the thought and he vowed to correct his brother's misconceptions.

Surprisingly, for both brothers, Thor was not the only one to visit and linger. Greta came by the most, using simple jobs such as changing the linen as an excuse to see Loki. Every time she visited, she casted a cooling charm that made Loki sigh in relief.

The food being brought in was all of Loki's favorites and Thor knew Ingnar had made the food himself. The head cook came by in the evenings and would gruffly thrust delicious honey cakes into Thor's hands. With a growl, he'd tell Loki to hurry up and heal because he needed a potato peeler. Thor would be offended on Loki's behalf but hearing Loki's quiet laughter, realized it was joke between the two. Vidar and his men were on duty but somehow, one of them would find a way into Loki's room for some reason or another. It was rather amusing to the brothers and they began making bets on what excuses the guards would come up with.

Lastly, a young man Thor had never seen before would stop by, bringing different gifts every time. Loaves of bread, fine clothing and other items that came from masters of their trades were all sent as gifts for Loki. Thor had no idea his brother was in favor with so many people. The finest gift came near the end with the young man presenting Loki with a pair of twin daggers; finely crafted in both art and steel.

At the end of the week, when his mother and Loki finally convinced him it was alright to eat in the mess hall, Thor came back to Loki's room and found his brother quietly conversing with their father. Thor could not hear what was being said but by Loki's vulnerable expression and Odin stopping to gather him in his arms and kiss his forehead, Thor knew his father was reminding Loki that he was loved beyond measure.

Sometimes, we feel alone and often forget that there are others who care and look out for us. Perhaps though, if we just peeked over our shoulders every now and then, we would see the ones protecting our backs.

END

A/N: I wrote this different from my usual writing style. I wanted to see if I could write a story using as little dialogue as possible. Obviously, I ended up using some but I think overall I did alright. To be honest, this was started about two years ago and was only recently finished. I had a very bad case of writer's block.

I apologize for any mistakes. I don't have a beta (I'm too flighty, I think, for one). I do re-read and edit before posting but I'm sure I've missed some errors.

Thank you to all who have reviewed, favorite and followed. I wasn't expecting much since this story heavily focuses on OCs but I've been pleasantly surprised!