Disclaimer: Thor, Loki and Odin belong to Norse mythology. The rest of the set-up, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif belong to Marvel. I'm just borrowing for this story.

Note: The story takes place at a time when Thor, Loki and their friends might already be considered young adults but Thor doesn't have his hammer, yet.

"Thor."

Loki stopped, slightly out of breath from trudging up the mountain slope after his brother and the other four.

"Let's stop for today", he continued when Thor turned to him. "It will be getting dark soon and we should seek shelter for the night."

Sleeping out in the open had been fine further down the mountain, where there hadn't been any snow. Up here, though, where it was almost knee-deep, he would rather spend the night in a cave.

"He is right", Fandral agreed. "We should find a cave and set up camp."

"And eat", Volstagg added.

Thor and Sif exchanged a quick glance at that and grinned.

"Very well", Thor said, "we shall look for a cave, then."

They started moving again.

Loki smiled. Excellent. It wasn't really the cold that bothered him but the others' tempo. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with them for much longer. He would start to lag behind and then, they would start laughing at him – again. They always did whenever it became evident he was no warrior. He was so used to it by now that he just ignored it – most of the time, at least. On some rare occasions, it did get to him, however. Like when he was cold and tired and had been plowing uphill through knee-deep snow the whole day long just because his dear brother was too stubborn to admit that he, Loki, had been right.

Suddenly, Hogun stopped.

"Over there", he said and pointed upwards and slightly to the left. Loki could make out what indeed looked like a cave – or at least, a recess – against the snow-covered flank of the mountain.

"Quite a climb", he said, more to himself.

Sif laughed.

"Well, if I can make it, so can you."

She gestured at herself, her high-heeled boots, especially. Loki bowed his head in agreement. Of course, it wouldn't be the first time he was bested by Sif. But it wouldn't do to be left behind.

One day, he would have mastered his magic enough to be able to turn himself into a bird and fly. Then, he wouldn't have to scramble after his brother and his friends anymore, slipping and sliding on the steep slope. Then, he would be able to fly ahead of them and wait for them, watching them struggle up the mountain. Not yet, though. But he had read about it – he knew it was possible to change one's shape. All he had to do was gather more information so that he could start practicing and –

His train of thought was cut off when a stone came loose underneath his boot. He stumbled and would have fallen if Fandral hadn't seized his arm.

"Careful", he said with a smile. "The ground is treacherous here."

For some reason, this comment and Fandral's grip on his arm annoyed Loki to no end. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because Fandral thought it necessary to tell him something that was really quite obvious. He didn't need to be told the ground was treacherous. He was well aware of that. He wasn't stupid and just because he was no warrior – just because he preferred to use magic and ranged weapons – that didn't mean he couldn't take care of himself.

He didn't show any of his annoyance, though. Mostly because it wouldn't have been fair – Fandral really only wanted to help. And also, because he knew it would end in another argument with Thor – later, when they were back home – about why he, Loki, couldn't just get along with Thor's friends. As usual, he would argue how he was supposed to get along with people who wouldn't take him seriously. Who, all too often, talked to him in that slightly patronizing way, as if he were a mere youth when, in fact, he was only a few years younger than Thor. And Thor, as usual, would just wave it off and tell him he was imagining it. He knew he wasn't. And he knew it would be a fruitless argument.

Thus, Loki returned Fandral's smile, making it as genuine as possible.

"Thank you. I ought to pay better attention."

Fandral nodded and let go of his arm.

"You should. If you take a fall here, you could go a long way down."

He started moving again and Loki followed him, more carefully this time.

By the time they reached the cave, Loki was properly out of breath. He didn't care who noticed. He did join the others in their weapons training regularly - he spent barely enough time on it to keep in tolerably good shape. Usually, in fights, he relied more on his magic than his fighting skills. Looking at the others, he noticed that Volstagg was breathing heavily and Fandral seemed a little winded, too.

"Can we have a little light, Loki?" Thor asked.

Loki nodded. He raised his hand and concentrated for a moment. A green flame sprung from his palm. He gave it a slight nudge and it turned into a glowing orb. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the orb into the mouth of the cave. The others stepped forward, readying their weapons to fend off whatever creature might be stirred up by the light and decide to attack. All remained quiet, though.

Loki's orb cast a pale greenish light. It was too weak to reveal much. What they could see were jagged rock formations that rimmed the cave's mouth. Loki frowned. He had never seen such an odd cave before.

"That should suffice", Thor said and stepped forward, into the cave.

Loki summoned the light back to his hand and followed his brother.

The other four put their packs down near the cave's mouth to start setting up camp for the night. It wasn't dark, yet, but the sun would sink below the horizon soon.

"Loki."

Thor gestured for him to join him where he stood and stared into the dark depths of the cave.

"Let's venture a little further", he said and looked at Loki with an excited twinkle in his eyes.

Loki sighed. He would have preferred to stay with the others. There was something about this cave – a smell he just couldn't pinpoint. A cool draft that seemed to originate somewhere deep within the cave. The drip-drip-drip of water. Loki flinched when a cold drop hit his forehead and wiped it off.

He didn't like this cave. Not at all. He wouldn't say anything, though. At best, Thor would just ignore him. At worst, he would laugh at him. Loki suppressed a sigh. Not so long ago, Thor had laughed with him, not at him.

"Loki?" Thor turned to look at him.

Loki blinked.

"Sorry – I was thinking."

He smiled and followed his brother deeper into the cave.

They didn't get too far, however. A deep shaft stopped them, a bit wider than Thor was tall. Loki sent his light to hover over the shaft.

"There is no way over", he pointed out. "And the tunnel doesn't continue onwards on the other side, either."

The draft, he noticed, was coming from the bottom of the shaft. If it had a bottom.

Thor nodded. He looked a little disappointed.

"Let's go back to the others."

He turned back the way they had come.

Loki, though, lingered by the shaft. What was that smell? He closed his eyes and sniffed the air. It was slightly stale and – He frowned. Was he only imagining it or did he indeed detect a slight scent of decay? No, he was pretty sure. Something had died down there. The thought made him shudder.

He quickly called the light back to his hand and hurried after his brother.

While they had been gone, Sif and Fandral had lit a fire. Volstagg was happily munching on something. Hogun sat to one side of the fire and tended to one of his knives. He looked up when Thor and Loki returned, a silent question in his eyes.

"Nothing", Thor said. "Just a bottomless shaft."

He sat down beside Hogun.

Loki extinguished the light on his palm. Outside, the sun was almost gone, he noticed. In the flickering light, the cave's mouth with its jagged rocks looked like a giant's open maw.

"Come."

Thor looked up at him with a smile and patted the rocky ground between him and Hogun. Hogun shifted a little to make room for him and Loki sat down. He didn't pay too much attention to the others when they started to talk. It was mostly the same conversation as the previous three evenings. Thor would complain that they had found no trolls, yet. Sif would try to soothe him, and Fandral to lift his spirits by claiming they would find trolls tomorrow. Volstagg would eat and drop the occasional remark. And Hogun would remain silent and tend to his weapons or armour.

Loki turned his attention to the fire. He pulled his knees up against his chest to rest his arms and chin on top of them. He had been fascinated by fire as long as he could remember. The shapes he could detect in the dancing flames. How they had the potential to destroy – or to heal, as the fires in Asgard's healing rooms did. It all depended on how they were used. Just like his magic, he supposed. He completely lost himself in his thoughts, trying as so often to figure out what the fire wanted to tell him. He was sure that if he only could speak its tongue –

The voices of the others, what they were saying, faded into the background until he barely heard them anymore.

"Loki? Loki. Loki!"

It wasn't until Thor touched his shoulder and gave him a slight shake that he was snapped out of his reverie.

"Are you sleeping with your eyes open, brother?"

Thor laughed but in his eyes, Loki could see the slightest hint of concern.

He shook his head.

"It's the fire. You know how I am."

Loki forced his gaze away from the flames to look at his brother. "You were saying?"

"I asked whether you were hungry", Thor repeated what he must have said before.

Loki shook his head.

"Not very, no. But you could hand me the water if you don't mind."

Thor reached over Fandral for one of the well-filled waterskins and passed it to Loki.

"You ought to eat more", he chided. "No wonder you stay so thin and weak."

Loki smiled at this, ignoring the unintentional insult. Thor hadn't meant to offend. He just was – clumsy with his words.

"Not all strength is of the physical kind, Thor", he said. "I'm no warrior. My great strength is my mind. And my magic."

He heard Sif snort at that but he ignored that, too. The one thing he seemed to be able to agree on with her was that they didn't agree on the use of his magic in battle. Not at all. For him, it was the most effective way to fight. For her, his "cheap tricks" as she called them were dishonourable. The less they argued about it, the better. He knew that the others – Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun – disliked his magic, too. But at least, they were less vocal about it.

As far as he was concerned, he thought they were only jealous that he could do something they couldn't – especially Sif. In a way, he understood that. He envied them, too. For the ease with which they handled their weapons. He had tried – he really had tried to become the warrior he knew father wanted him to be. But it had become obvious to him all too soon that his efforts would be in vain. He could learn to use a weapon tolerably well but he would never be a great warrior. Finally, even Odin had been forced to admit his second son was only wasting his time. He had insisted that Loki learn enough to be able to defend himself well enough in a fight without his magic but except for that, had stopped to press the issue. Sometimes, Loki thought that if it weren't for his skills in magic, he would be a huge disappointment to his father.

Sometimes, he thought that he was a huge disappointment to his father because of his skills in magic.

Pushing such gloomy thoughts aside, Loki took a sip of water. When he put the waterskin down, he directed his gaze at the fire again – and frowned. Something was off. Different.

He quickly checked the others. They were still sitting the way they had, listening to Thor tell a tale about some prank they had played on someone when they had been boys. It sounded vaguely familiar – Loki thought he remembered that his magic had played a crucial part in the whole thing. It was, he supposed, Thor's way of trying to defend him and his magic without starting an open argument with his friends.

This wasn't what was bothering him, though. It had to be something far less obvious. He thought for a moment. What had he been doing when he had first felt it? He looked at the waterskin in his hand. No. Definitely not. It must have been the fire, then.

Loki returned his attention to the flickering flames. They looked just as they had before. Only that –

Loki's frown deepened.

He might be wrong. But it was easy enough to find out. He got up and stepped over Hogun, moving to the back of the cave.

As if on cue, the others fell silent. Loki could feel them look at him.

"Is there anything amiss, brother?" Thor asked.

"I don't know", he replied. "It may be nothing – I just want to check on something to make sure."

He carefully made his way back to the shaft at the back of the cave. It wasn't really necessary – he could feel it long before he reached the shaft. He just wanted to be absolutely sure. There was no doubt: When they had first entered this cave, that cool draft of stale air had been coming from somewhere in its depths. Now, however, the air was moving the other way – as if it were sucked in.

An interesting thought. Loki's eyes narrowed. But what had made him think it? There was something at the back of his mind – something that bothered him. Had bothered him since he had set foot in this cave. Something that eluded him.

There was this strange, direction-changing draft. The maw-like entrance. This shaft. They were in troll-country. Well, supposedly, since they had yet to encounter a troll.

Loki decided to follow this train of thought. What did he know about trolls? They were big, ugly and dangerous. They feared sunlight because it turned them to stone. They weren't the most intelligent creatures in the Nine Realms but very, very strong. They –

Suddenly, something clicked into place. Loki could almost hear it, in fact.

Stone. Jagged rocks – like teeth. Maw-like entrance. A draft that changed directions – like breathing.

His eyes grew wide.

"Damn", he whispered, and louder: "Dammit!"

He turned on his heel and hurried back to the others, more stumbling than running.

"Thor!" he yelled. "Thor we've got to leave! Now!"

Thor immediately jumped to his feet, reaching for his sword. Sif and Hogun followed only a moment later.

Fandral got up a little slower, grinning.

"Did something scare you?" he asked.

"Damn right! Get moving!"

Loki dodged Hogun and his brother and gave Volstagg a shove that did't really do anything except for making Volstagg frown at him. Without waiting for the others, he grabbed their packs and threw them out of the cave.

"Hey!" Volstagg protested.

Loki glared at him.

"Which part of 'get moving' was it that you didn't understand, you big oaf?"

Really, how could anyone be so daft? Didn't they see it? Didn't they realize they had to leave before it woke up?

The fire. He had to put out the fire.

The waterskin he had drank from still lay on the ground. Loki grabbed it and poured its contents over the fire, extinguishing it.

"What the –"

Thor caught hold of his shoulders and shook him.

"Have you gone insane? What's the matter with you?"

Loki looked at him. At Hogun and Sif who alternately cast glances at him and the back of the cave, alert but not sure what to do. At Fandral who had traded his grin for a look of utter bewilderment. Volstagg, who just continued eating as if nothing had happened. Back at Thor, whose stance was somewhere between concern and annoyance.

He would have to spell it out for them, wouldn't he? They really were too daft to see it.

He seized Thor's arms and took in a deep breath. And another one, forcing himself to calm down a bit.

"I have found you your troll, brother", he said.

"Really?" Thor's face lit up with excitement. "Where? Back down in the cave?"

He made to move away but Loki held on to him.

"In a way. – Please, hear me out."

He waited until Thor's attention was fixed on him again and continued: "It's a very large troll."

"I don't care. We'll hunt it down and –"

"That would be very unwise."

Thor frowned at that.

"It's larger than you can imagine", Loki went on. "Large as a mountain. We can't kill it. Our weapons can't hurt it."

"But your magic –" Thor protested.

"- isn't strong enough, yet, to harm it."

"If it's really that big and dangerous, we should leave and hope it doesn't notice us", Fandral cut in.

Sif and Volstagg nodded.

Loki turned to them.

"Yes, well, it's too late for that", he said.

"Why?" Sif asked. "If it hasn't seen us, yet –"

"Oh, it doesn't have to see us. Or smell us, for that matter. It knows we're here without that."

"Nonsense." Sif frowned. "How could it?"

"The same you would know if someone set up camp in your mouth and lit a fire on your tongue", Loki pointed out calmly.

For a moment, the others just stared at him as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head right before their eyes.

They were stirred in motion by a low, rumbling sound that originated from somewhere deep within the cave and grew increasingly louder. The troll was waking up. And, judging from that sound, it was angry.

Volstagg scrambled to his feet. He and Fandral were closest to the cave's – the mouth's – opening and exited first. Sif and Hogun rushed after them.

Thor hesitated.

Loki shifted his grip on his brother, clutching his arm with both his hands and yanking on it to make him move.

"Come on! It's going to eat us alive!"

The walls and the ground – the tongue, he reminded himself – started to change, too. They grew more fleshy in texture, the ground taking on a slightly squishy quality.

"Thor, please!"

Loki was almost begging now, casting frantic glances at the back of the cave, where a new growl just started and at the mouth that was slowly, slowly closing. And finally, Thor moved. Going for the opening and not, as Loki had half feared and half expected, for the back of the cave. Mouth. Whatever.

He pulled Loki with him, who still clung to his arm, and together, they jumped over the teeth.

"Go!" Thor yelled at the others who were waiting outside.

Of course, they immediately started moving down the slope they had climbed up not so long ago. Whatever order Thor gave them – whatever he asked them to do – was carried out in a matter of moments. It rarely took any talking or convincing as was the case with Loki. This time, though, he was very glad about it.

Beneath their feet, the mountain started to move. It was difficult enough to keep one's balance scrambling down the steep slope at top speed. Now, however, that the troll started to move and shift about, with pieces of rocks coming loose all around them, it was impossible.

Volstagg was the first one to fall and start rolling down the slope through the snow. Then Fandral and then, Loki, too, mis-stepped. He fell and hit his shoulder and suddenly, the world was spinning around him, the white of snow alternating with the black of the night-sky. Up and down, left and right – he didn't know which way was which anymore. He bumped into rocks, was hit by rocks as he turned and twisted, desperately trying to stop himself. He knew he would die – they all would die – if he didn't manage to slow down their rapid descent. There were trees down there. A forest. If they hit a tree at this speed, the force of the impact would snap their spines or break their necks or crush their skulls. They would die and then, the troll would feast on their bodies. They would simply disappear – the two sons of Odin and their four friends – and no one would ever know what had become of them.

Loki clawed at the snow, grabbing for rocks, the frozen ground, anything that he might hold on to, breaking off his fingernails and scraping the skin off his knuckles. He had to turn so that he wasn't tumbling down the mountain anymore but sliding – so that he could see where he was going.

He didn't know how he managed. He twisted and turned and kicked and flailed and suddenly, the world stopped spinning. He lifted his head. The others were close to him, a little downhill. Loki dug his heels in the snow. It wasn't frozen and so, he indeed started to slow down. He came to a stop on a large rock that was protruding from the snow and immediately scrambled to his feet. The others were still speeding down the slope. How to catch them before they reached the trees? Loki's brow creased in thought as different options flickered through his mind. Maybe – It wasn't perfect but it was the only thing he could think of that actually might work.

Loki reached in one of his many pockets, didn't find what he was looking for, reached into another and pulled a length of string out of it. He had to hurry. He worked as quickly as he could, tying knot after knot, turning the string into a net. His fingers were stiff from the cold and ached from his attempts to slow down his descent. But he needed something to start with. He couldn't build a net out of nothing. You couldn't create something substantial out of nothing.

When there was enough – when he hoped there was enough – he took the net in one hand and, calling some words he had found in one of his ancient books, threw it down the mountain's slope, after Thor and the other four. He held his breath. It had to work.

The small piece of net started to glow in a greenish light. The mesh expanded, growing larger and larger until it was indeed large enough to catch the five. Loki held his hand out before him and concentrated. The net kept flying down the mountain. Like a fisherman's net thrown over the water, spreading wide. Loki waited until it was in the right position, then he slowly, gently closed his hand into a fist and pulled it back. He felt a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. Go too fast and they would be jerked to a halt and probably suffer worse damage than by hitting a tree. Go too slowly and they would slip through the mesh.

The net closed around Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three and stopped them without injuring them. At least, it looked like it.

With a wave of his hand, Loki made the net disappear. He waited with bated breath. Were they alright?

Downhill, five persons scrambled to their feet, sputtering and cursing and shaking snow out of their clothes.

Loki smiled. He jumped off his rock and, more sliding than walking, started down the slope again.

"Not so bad for a cheap trick, is it?" he called.

It was mainly directed at Sif.

They all turned to him. They all stared, their eyes wide in horror – not at him.

"Watch out!" Sif yelled.

Too late. Something seized Loki, lifted him off his feet, high into the air.

Something as solid as rock, squeezing him so hard he could barely breathe. He didn't have to turn to know what it was. The troll. That blasted troll had got him and now, it would eat him.

Higher and higher he was lifted and turned, too, until he looked straight into the troll's enormous, ugly face. At least, he thought feebly, it wouldn't have to bite off anything. It was large enough to swallow him whole, without chewing.

"No!" he heard Thor scream somewhere below. "Let him go! Don't you dare to hurt my brother!"

Loki twisted around in the troll's grip so that he could look back over his shoulder to see what was going on. Sif, Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg were clinging to his brother to keep him from charging at the troll that wasn't actually as large as a mountain but still, too large to be killed by just the five of them.

"Run, you idiot!" he yelled at Thor. "Go for the trees! Hide – quick, while it's busy!"

He didn't wait to see whether Thor would actually do it. He turned back to the troll. His heart was pounding in his chest, his blood buzzing in his ears. Oddly enough, he wasn't afraid. He knew he would be dead in mere moments but he wasn't afraid. He had wondered, some time ago, how he would react when confronted with certain death. Would he try to run and hide? Try to talk his way out of it? Cower in fear and start to cry?

He hadn't expected to remain this calm.

It wasn't because he was determined to show this beast how a son of Odin died, however. It was because, even though he knew there was no way out of this, a part of his mind whispered that, maybe, there was. And that he would find it if he only kept his wits together. Fear wouldn't do. Fear paralyzed. Rendered you unable to think. He couldn't have that.

It was due to that small voice at the back of his mind that he summoned a light to his hand when the troll lifted him over its head. It opened its huge maw and let go.

Loki dropped like a stone. Somewhere in the distance, he thought he could hear his brother scream. He cast the light downwards so he could see where he was going. He rushed past the troll's teeth, down into the shaft that was its gullet.

There. Something caught the light, down there. Something was sticking out of the side of the shaft.

Loki didn't see what it was. He acted on mere instinct and reached out for it. Not with his hands but with his magic, using the object as an anchor to break his fall. He didn't pray often – he usually relied on himself and his own skills – but now, he was praying that, whatever it was, it would hold.

tbc