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bookishwenchCasualty of Battle
Any battle was, by definition, dangerous. Luckily, this one seemed to be producing few casualties on their side, and it was nearly done. The attacking hordes had begun retreating at the first sign of resistance and scurried home again through an interdimensional portal without putting up much of a fight.
Except, of course, for the damn dragon who had randomly blundered through at the same time.
It was a literal, full grown, completely real, seventy-foot-tall, scarlet and gold dragon breathing fire through not one but two equally hideous heads, each mouth filled with poisonous fangs as long and sharp as sabers. Loki was, of course, still on the field of battle when it came shrieking through the air. While being the second son of Odin had its perks, the downside was he was expected to partake in any and all defense of the realm alongside his meatier brother and the rest of the warriors. Truthfully, he wasn’t a bad fighter, and he had rather enjoyed the chaos of this spontaneous brawl, but that had been before the portal had belched out this thing. His first reaction was staring in disbelief as it stretched its wings and soared overhead, sounding like a cross between a hurricane and an exploding star.
“Brother?” Thor asked.
“Yes?”
“Do you see that?”
“Yes, Thor,” Loki said with poorly disguised aggravation at his stupidity. “It’s a gigantic dragon. Everyone can see it.”
“Good. I thought I might be hallucinating from blood loss.”
And with that, Thor had passed out, nearly breaking Loki’s foot with his helmet in the process.
“Ehm, Thor?” Loki said, looking down at his brother’s completely still form. On closer inspection, he had a large wound on his upper leg that was indeed pouring blood. “Thor?”
He gave an experimental kick to Thor’s shin, and his brother didn’t react at all. While Loki could think of at least half a dozen particularly marvelous tricks he could play on him during his bout of unconsciousness, the increasingly large pool of blood did suggest he might be in real danger. Sighing at the missed opportunity, Loki sent a small burst of magic towards the injury, which promptly closed. While he wasn’t fully healed, Thor should now be able to get to the healers for a full cure without incident. Unfortunately, that last bit of magic had tapped Loki out completely following the strain of the battle.
Of course, the dragon chose that moment to double back and bear down upon the pair of them, spewing fire, its four yellow eyes blazing as it screeched deafeningly from both mouths. Loki quickly ticked off his options. With his magic temporarily drained, he couldn’t use it to defend himself, and he doubted a sword would be much use against that thing as it would incinerate them long before it came within arm’s reach. If he ran, he would have to leave Thor’s unconscious body behind as he wasn’t capable of carrying his bulk alone. His brother would probably be killed as a result. Oddly, Loki was not comfortable with that outcome.
Sighing in resignation at his probable upcoming death due to his inexplicable failure to abandon his stupid brother (and he would have been next in line to the throne into the bargain), he grabbed his shield and held it before both of them in what he knew would be a completely ineffectual defense. The dragon was now streaking through the sky in a parody of one of Thor’s thunderbolts, on a definite collision course with them.
However, just as the dragon came within range, one of its necks swung wildly and then went limp. Loki squinted to make out a spear embedded just below the creature’s left skull. Whoever had thrown it had spectacular aim. Glancing behind him, he saw Sif standing not ten feet away, grinning like a madwoman, her arm still raised from having thrown the spear.
“One down, one to go!” she yelled as the dragon’s remaining head sputtered weakly.
The dragon’s trajectory changed as it was now off balance, and it plummeted dizzily to the ground a stone’s throw away. Unfortunately, it was not dead. Instead, it was enraged over the injury.
“Stay with Thor,” Sif commanded him. “I’ll finish it off.”
“I’m sure you will,” Loki said, sitting back on the grass with his feet in front of him to better enjoy the view of what he was certain would be a brief fight.
He was almost right, but not in the way he intended. Now that the injured dragon was reduced to a single head, slaying it should have been relatively easy. Angry as it was, it was also in agony, and it looked as though it might well die of its own accord if Sif merely stalled for time. That, however, was not her style. Pulling her sword from its scabbard, she raced directly at the remaining head, going for a full-frontal attack while it was still confused. At first it seemed to have worked perfectly. She sliced the dragon’s neck through cleanly and grabbed the decapitated head, turning towards the field of battle and hoisting it aloft in victory with an accompanying battle cry. Loki started to applaud.
That’s when the other head revealed it wasn’t quite dead yet.
Ignoring its right neck spewing poisonous blood, the dragon’s left head, still with a spear lodged through its throat, came at Sif silently from behind with such speed that no one could shout a warning. Yet somehow she had sensed it, as she managed to whirl towards her enemy and use the skull she was holding as a makeshift weapon. She cracked it into its live counterpart, succeeding in knocking it backward. However, as the dragon’s neck writhed wildly, her spear, still protruding from its red and gold scales, collided with the back of her knee and sent her sprawling. The dragon was nearly done for, but seeing its enemy vulnerable, it made one last attempt, its mouth gaping and venom dripping from its teeth. Sif plunged her sword directly into its eye, earning an ear-piercing shriek, but it wasn’t an immediate death. Sif narrowly evaded most of the following attack, leaping to the side and missing the tons of falling dragon by mere inches. In one last bid for revenge, it managed to lock its mouth on her braid. It pulled her to the ground, then promptly died, her hair still trapped in its teeth.
“That was unexpected,” Loki said.
He had gotten up from his spectator position partway through the fight, but as Sif hated being interrupted during a battle, he held back, trusting she would call for help if she needed it. She now stared up at him from the ground, scowling.
“Can you open this thing’s mouth?” she said. “I can’t even see it from this position.”
He stared at it in distaste, then shrugged and tried to pull the beast’s jaw open. Not only did it refuse to budge, but there was a strange hissing noise. Loki jumped backward, briefly thinking it might somehow still be alive, but then he noticed the stench of acid and realized the dragon’s venom was leaking from its mouth. It was beginning to eat through the steel gauntlet Loki had on his hand. He threw the armor to the ground, then realized with horror the venom was running along Sif’s hair and would reach her skin in moments.
“Don’t move!” he yelled, pulling his own sword and slicing through the braid in one swift movement just at the base of her neck.
She immediately sprang to her feet and turned to see the braid disappearing in a noxious burst of poison that would have dissolved the rest of her into the bargain if she had still been attached to it. Immediately, the dragon started to decay, and in seconds it was reduced to a pile of bones.
“Do they all do that?” Sif asked, staring.
“I didn’t even realize dragons were real until ten minutes ago,” Loki said, kicking one of the leg bones experimentally, but nothing happened. “At least it’s definitely dead now.”
She rubbed the sweat from her forehead absently and came into contact with her now short hair, shuddering.
“How bad does it look?” she asked.
“Not as bad as being dissolved by venom.”
“Oh, that’s encouraging!”
“You look… fine.”
“You’re usually a much better liar than that.”
He looked at the lopsided, uneven hair and sighed.
“Darling, not even I can lie that well.”
She hit him in the chest with her helmet hard enough to knock him onto his posterior and stomped off.
“Brother,” came a quiet voice beside him, “if you would ever be in her good graces again, go apologize.”
“For what? Saving her life?”
“Do you want to sleep alone this night? And every night hereafter?”
Loki wavered for a moment, then gave an exasperated sigh and jogged off in the direction she had gone.
“Wise, brother, wise,” Thor said before once again passing out.
