The Origin of Fear

Chapter 18

The red-cape-clad warrior stood slowly, Mjolnir held tightly in his hand at his side. His countenance was dark as he regarded Fera and Loki as if they were wayward adolescents, and the sky roared with thunder above him. 

“Loki,” he said lowly, coming towards them. The angry soldiers had begun to get to their feet and were not retreating, instead apprehending the newest addition to the infiltrators with anger as well as curiosity. “You’re supposed to be the sensible one,” 

“I am the sensible one,” Loki replied as the air filled with a mixture of Orc and Thursar war cries. He paused, looking around at them all, and nodded his head slightly. “It’s been a long day,” 

Thor rolled his eyes to the dark clouds above them. “Valhalla help us,” he muttered. He glanced to Fera, and did a double take when he found he could meet her eery but powerless gaze. “Fera,” he added, a hint of confusion in his voice. “Your eyes,” 

Fera gritted her teeth. “The fine work of the Emperor,” she said in a chagrined tone, meeting Thor’s eyes for the first time. Blue. “It turns out he didn’t only want my life for revenge, but he wanted my abilities as well. As a weapon,”

Thor’s eyes bugged. “And he’s got it,” he replied in a horrified mutter. “Fera, you have to do something. An enemy with that much power is a threat to the entire Tree,” 

“I’m working on it,” Fera hissed, raising her colichemardes and turning to face the the Orcs as they began to chant. The three of them formed a small triangle with their backs to the center, in a mad hope that they could somehow fend off the barbarian army. The Thursar on the opposite side of the ring of the Orcs remained silent, and watched them with humanlike eyes. “We got a little tied up, here,” 

“I see that,” 

“I thought you returned to Asgard,” Loki said over his shoulder to Thor, eyeing the quiet Thursar without blinking. “What brought about this so selfless change of heart?” 

Thor gave him an incredulous look. “Brother, please,” he boomed. “You almost killed me when I tried bringing you home without her. And Mother would kill me if I came home without you,” 

“Almost killed Thor?” Fera repeated, incredulous. 

Loki scoffed, giving them both a haughty sneer. “He’s exaggerating,” 

“I’m not,” Thor said, a smile blossoming on his triumphant mouth as he looked at the oncoming attackers tauntingly. The Orcs and the Thursar regarded them warily but none of them were brave enough to come at the burly blonde warrior wielding the hammer. “Come, Loki. You’re not getting all the glory for this daring rescue,” 

“Glory, yes, that’s what I was going for,” Loki replied drily. 

Fera turned to Thor. “Where are the others?” 

Before Thor could answer, the Thursar behind them cried out in alarm, and leapt out of the way as four large horses came barreling through them, circling Thor, Loki, and Fera. Sif and the Warriors Three sat atop the the heavy stallions, their weapons drawn and ready for battle. A high shout dripping with a triumph that had not yet come resounded over the Orcish yells.

“Did someone call for aid?” Fandral pulled his horse to a stop in front of them, and flashed them a glorious, teethy smile that caught the bright firelight. Thor let out a booming laugh as Sif, Volstagg, and Hogunn followed suit—and followed him.

“No,” Loki answered in a drawl, thoroughly unimpressed.

Volstagg chuckled and ignored him, reaching down from atop his horse to clap Thor on the shoulder. “Never fear, Fera, we’re here to save the day!” he called to her, his horse stomping the ground underneath him.