WHO Loki and Fandral WHERE Ancient Vallo WHEN After Fandral got his ass kicked (backdated) WHAT Loki trying to fix Fandral STATUS Complete WARNINGS Talk of injuries and death
While there were far worse situations they could have ended up in, Loki truly would have preferred being one of the lucky few who got to stay behind with all of the creature comforts of present-time Vallo. The filth on the streets and the general miasma of gross, to coin a word, definitely meant that Loki had made it her first priority to establish a home base. She hadn’t been aware just how useful that would be until she found Fandral.
The chatter of the beast in the cave had alerted her to the possibility of a way of earning favour with the locals - it made sense to her, after all, and such a task shouldn’t be too difficult for somebody who had spent a great deal of her life following Thor’s whims and desires in taking down various different monsters in her time. He didn’t expect to find that somebody else with a similar mindset would have already attempted such a thing. Seeing Fandral half-dead on the floor struck a chord of fear into Loki’s heart that she didn’t often experience and she had jumped into action before fully considering any kind of consequences regarding said action. Fandral was hurt and Loki would attend - her specialty wasn’t healing, but Frigga had always said that a sorcerer who didn’t know the basics of healing could even be a danger to those she battled with and so she had learned as much as she could at the time.
Fandral was… in a bad way. Possibly the worst she’d ever seen him, actually, and she’d seen Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three in some fairly terrible states in all of the time she’d travelled with them. She covered the wounds with her hands and poured as much as she could into healing him so that he would survive the journey back, biting back any sort of worry. She could deal with that in her own time, like she did with every other emotion she’d ever had regarding Fandral - she’d had a soft spot for him despite everything when they were younger and according to her sheer worry now, that still remained - she certainly couldn’t imagine carrying Volstagg or Hogun in her arms to her safe house, setting him down on the bed as she tended to his wounds. “Absolute imbecile,” she murmured, tying her hair up into a bun and getting to work on shredding clothes to form makeshift bandages until she could get supplies.
He had certainly had a moment of idiocy in deciding to go for a third attempt at slaying the beast he’d heard about after failing twice the day before. But he had been so close and had come away with minimal injuries, so why would today be any different? Except, perhaps, he had angered the creature with his attempts. Getting close to the end, the snake like creature had whipped at him in a fury, causing his body to crash into the wall of the cave before it attacked with its fangs.
Fandral had managed to wound the creature enough to cause it to slither away to tend to its wounds, but it had left him horribly injured in its wake. A shattered pelvis, broken femur, concussion, and wounds on his torso from where the beast had tried to bite him. He’d crawled away as much as he could before passing out from both pain and blood loss.
It was a while before he came to at all and opening his eyes, bleary and heavy-lidded, he saw a beautiful woman before him tending to him. Why? A doofy, though weak smile pulled at his lips. “Hullo,” he mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open in that moment. “S’beautiful, mm.”
“Shut up,” Loki responded as soon as Fandral started stirring and attempting to talk. He was an absolute mess from head to toe, if she was being honest with herself - this was beyond her. At least in one day and without additional magic tomes, which… she made a mental note to scour Vallo’s libraries and consult with covens to learn more healing magic, considering how much everybody seemed to keep getting injured around her. She could deal with minor injuries and even breaks, but this- was something else. She’d drawn the venom out of his wound and deposited it in a vial to examine later but that didn’t mean it was completely gone from his body.
There wasn’t really much she could do for the pain except hope that he was too out of it to really remember being in pain. She grabbed a cloth and dipped it in the bucket of water that she had gathered, brushing blue-tinged fingers over it to freeze the cloth to act as an ice pack for his head, wanting to slow his blood flow and cool his body from the trauma it had experienced. She brushed his hair from his forehead and draped it there, pressing his head down slightly. “Don’t try to move, idiot. Just- sleep,” her voice was strained as she looked over just how much work she had left to do.
Stitches. Right. His wounds - she didn’t have much at her disposal here and so she had to make that as well, a golden thread of magic and a needle that she sterilised in the candles that she was floating for better vision, grimacing slightly as she closed his wounds and bandaged them. It wasn’t- perfect, nor was it pretty, but hopefully she could get a hold of some alcohol and add a hint of magic to ward off any infection. “Facing a monster alone. Idiot. Did you learn nothing from always working with a team? You could have at least told somebody your plans,” she hissed, more to herself than anything as she stood up and washed the blood from her hands.
Truth be told, Fandral was in absolutely no state to realize just how bad of shape he was really in, or who was tending to him in that moment, or… well, much of anything, really. Except when she began to stitch his wounds, he woke up a bit more and grunted in pain, though absolutely still delirious about his surroundings.
But his conscious state didn’t last long and he dozed off again, whether from the pain he was in or the venom in his body, who knew? He stayed that way for a long while as Loki continued to work, mending him as best as she could with what she had available, and cursing his stupidity under her breath. It was a good thing he couldn’t hear her, because he’d argue back that it wasn’t stupid. It had been easy the day before! Just something had gone wrong, that’s all.
Some time later he came to again, though he was still drowsy and in pain, hissing out a slurred “skítkarl!” quietly when he shifted just enough to cause a burning heat to race through his torso.
Loki wouldn’t admit it, but she had been dozing in the chair by Fandral’s bed when she heard a curse come from her left, blinking herself awake and looking up. Talking was good - talking meant he was recovering to some extent, right? She had wrestled the journal from him a little earlier and it seemed that he was doing better - not better enough for her to give it back, but enough for him to actually be aware that he was in pain. She stood up, examining him with a slight frown.
“You’re fine,” she decided to comment, even though he wasn’t. Still, she could take some of the edge off of the pain, hovering her hand carefully over his chest to dull it somewhat before creating a cup to fill with water. She knew she shouldn’t be wasting her seidr on these things, but leaving him seemed- dangerous, somehow. Like he could die at any moment, even though they were hopefully past that.
“You nearly died, though,” she dipped a cloth in the water and swept it over his lips to wet them, not quite sure whether or not he should be allowed to drink just yet. “I would advise not trying to move too much.”
He wasn’t fine and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that, but the exhaustion he felt overpowered any desire he might’ve had to argue, and somehow he knew to be thankful that he’d held his tongue as the pain subsided. Not completely gone, but enough that he wasn’t outright hurting like he had been.
“I wha-?” he mumbled, eyes drifting open a little as he looked over to her, blinking a few times as if he was trying to get his bearings enough to put together where he was, who he was with, etc. But no. That was going to take some time. Or at least a minute.
Fandral licked his lips a little after the wet cloth had been wiped over them, savoring the water that lingered behind and only just realizing then how thirsty he was. But moving -- well, that wasn’t an option and this… woman? She seemed awfully familiar to him. She seemed to know what she was doing, anyway. “How?”
At least he was able to put together a word. Progress.
Loki wasn’t entirely sure what he was asking. How was he alive? Probably, but the lack of recognition in his face made her wonder just how out of it Fandral was. Showing would probably be somewhat more impactful than telling right now and she hadn’t really considered that he wouldn’t recognise her, so she stepped back and opened her arms, her skin shimmering slightly as she melded back into the form Fandral was more used to.
“I rescued you,” he explained, pulling the hairtie from his hair now that it wasn’t long enough to be constantly in the way when doing delicate medical work. “Or, rather, I found a half-dead man outside of a cave and dragged him out. I would ask why, but I doubt I’ll get anything- coherent from you,” he couldn’t quite keep the worry out of his tone as he started unwrapping the bandages to examine the wounds, checking on their progress. He was exhausted, if he was being completely honest - the kind of energy needed to bring somebody back from the brink was immense, even for a master of sorcery such as himself. Still - another thing he would never admit out loud, as showing weakness for a playboy was perhaps the worst idea in the universe - it was worth it, in this instance. “Thor knows you’re alive and Darcy is sourcing alcohol. Both also seem to think you’re an idiot, for the record.”
The longer he stayed conscious, the less fuzzy his memory was and it was helped even further by the woman -- Loki -- shifting back into the form he knew. Ah, that was why she seemed so familiar. He did not see Loki in his female form very often, but considering his wounds, it made sense that he hadn’t recognized her.
Fandral was quiet for a moment, listening to what he told him and looking off for a moment to think. Trying to remember what exactly had happened. There’d been a creature, he knew that much, one he’d tried to battle previously. But after a certain point, everything went blank. He’d been in the cave and now he was here, confused and in pain.
His eyes followed as Loki began to unwrap the bandages, taking in the sight of his various injuries. Maybe there was a lack of words for the moment, but he weakly lifted a hand and laid it on top of one of the other man’s as he worked, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Thank...you, Loki,” he breathed, his voice hoarse and tired. “You… did not ha..ve to?”
Loki stared down at the hand for a moment. If he had the energy, he might shake him off - but he didn’t right now, looking up at him with much a much less guarded expression than he would normally have. Fandral likely wouldn’t remember any of this in any great detail, which was a blessing when Loki was fully aware that he would look terrible right now. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, gently lifting his hand off so he could continue to work. “You’re- Thor would kill me if I saw you dying and allowed it to happen,” he grimaced slightly as he cleaned around the wounds with the rags, patting them dry as gently as he could muster before re-bandaging him.
“You should recover, but that’s only going to happen if you sleep, Fandral,” he hummed. “You should probably drink some water, but- just a sip. If you vomit I’ll have to be the one cleaning it up and I would really prefer not to,” regardless of the fact that his clothes were bloodstained under the glamour and he fully intended on burning them later. Clothes stained with the blood of your friend really weren’t worth keeping. “Did you at least get anything worthwhile from the cave?”
He was right and Fandral knew he was right, but that didn’t change the fact that Loki didn’t have to rescue him. There had been so much bad blood over the years, he’d never have expected it, despite knowing that if their roles had been reversed that Fandral would have saved Loki just the same. Nothing would change the fact that he considered Loki a friend and that he still loved him simply because Thor still loved him. That was enough for him.
“I will.. sleep more..momen..tarily.” Words were hard, but Fandral grimaced as he tried to crane his neck to take a sip of water from the cup, swallowing a much needed mouthful before handing the cup back and laying back down flush against the bed. The question about if he’d managed to get anything worthwhile from the cave made him give a short, quiet noise of amusement before he lifted his hand back to the new bandages on his stomach. “New scars?” he questioned jokingly, tilting his chin to look down at them before letting that same hand wander up toward the two scars Hela had given him over his heart.
After a moment he relaxed again and looked up at Loki with a sort of shame in his eyes that he didn’t feel very often. “I am so..rry, you know. I do no-not mean to bur..den you.”
Loki set the cup down close enough that Fandral could take it when he next woke - as long as this first mouthful stayed down, he felt that he should be alright to drink freely, albeit slowly. He watched as Fandral examined his bandages, not bothering to suppress the roll of his eyes.
“Yes, new scars. That isn’t something I have the ability to avoid, although I am sure you could get them removed if you’re concerned about your visage being ruined,” Loki glanced over Fandral’s body. “You also have broken bones. I moved you into the best position to heal them that I could,” he wasn’t sure if Fandral was aware just how much of a state he had arrived in. Loki’s glamour meant he looked deceptively fine - the messy hair, bloodied clothes and dark circles under his eyes were thankfully hidden from anybody but himself, which was precisely how he liked it.
“If not me, it would have been somebody else or death. Perhaps consider not doing such an idiotic thing again as payment or thanks for this, now.”
“Pfft.” That was about all he could get out in response about his visage being ruined, even giving a weak roll of his eyes. Removing scars was never an option for Fandral. It wasn’t that he liked being wounded, but the scars were something he was proud of, even the ones over his heart that were a reminder of his untimely death in their home world.
But no. He had no idea, not yet, anyway. All he knew was that he was in pain and that he was exhausted and that his head hurt. Odin’s beard, that beast had done a number on him, huh?
He breathed out a slow, shallow breath and reached carefully for Loki’s hand to give it a half-hearted squeeze. He tried, at least. “Th...ank you, fri..end.” Because he was sure, or he would be soon enough, that if it hadn’t been for Loki, he’d have died. Again. “I owe you.. my life.”
Loki scoffed softly at the statement. Yes, Fandral did - although it wasn’t something that he was overly concerned with right now. He would have done it regardless of who had been there because if he was being honest, it was in his best interests to look after people here. The part that worried him was that he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave anybody behind, even if it was something he could feasibly do.
Becoming even a little altruistic was somewhat terrifying and wasn’t currently worth his time or energy.
“If you don’t go to sleep, I’ll have to expend more energy to put you to sleep myself,” he murmured, giving Fandral’s hand a very slight squeeze back, something causing him to twitch as he slipped his hand free and moved back to his head. “Do you need more- pain relief?”
Leave it to Loki to scoff off a sentiment like that; coming from Fandral, he didn’t take the fact that he owed him that lightly at all -- of course, that would be the case for anyone he felt he owed his life to.
A hint of a smile pulled at one corner of his mouth when he felt the squeeze being returned, even if it was barely there, and he let the other man slip his hand away without any sort of a fuss. Though there was a slight eye roll at the remarks about having to expend energy to make him sleep. “No, I… am all right for… now.” Which was true enough. He was still in pain, but it wasn’t enough that he couldn’t sleep if he tried.
Of course, he didn’t want Loki to have to use more energy than he already had, either. “I will sl...eep.” Because even though he didn’t remember much of his nonsensical rambling in his journal, he distinctly remembered Thor telling him to rest. “You shou--ld rest, too.”
“I will,” Loki lied as smoothly as ever. He had no intention of sleeping until he was fully certain Fandral was out of the woods, so to speak - his injuries were stable for now, but his condition couldn’t be called that until he wasn’t teetering on the edge of too much blood loss. He could barely speak, let alone tell whether or not he was going to survive and depending on how long they were stuck here, infection could be a possibility. Vallo and Midgard were not alike and clearly, things here had every chance of affecting them just as harshly as they would back on Asgard.
He ran a hand through his hair, taking a slow breath and replacing the cool cloth on Fandral’s forehead with a fresh one. “I’ll wake you to change your bandages later. It won’t be pleasant, but hopefully you’ll have healed some by then,” he could only hope that the venom wouldn’t hinder that process too much.
One of the many upsides to being Asgardian was that healing didn’t take nearly as long as it did for those from Midgard; otherworldly abilities made it so that injuries like the ones he currently had would likely fully heal in two weeks at the most.
Of course, that only applied to non-direct, fatal wounds. There was no coming back from two daggers to the heart.
Fandral’s eyes drifted closed at the touch to his hair and then the new cool cloth against his forehead. He hadn’t realized how warm he was until the change in temperature against his skin and even through the fog in his brain, he knew his body was working overtime to fight in healing his injuries and preventing any remaining venom from doing further harm. Luckily, even though he’d suggested Loki sleep as well, he knew the other man wouldn’t leave him just yet. He was thankful for that, even if he couldn’t verbalize it.
With his eyes closed, sleep came easily, the pain having subsided into something dull for the time being and he relaxed into it, hoping that perhaps this sleep would be dreamless.