Collapsed lung
“Thor? Frandal? Hogun? Anyone?”
They had left her behind, again.
There was no response and Sif was officially lost in the mountains, alone. She thought about calling Heimdall to get her out of there, but she wanted to prove to the others that she find her way back again. She was continuously proving herself, and yet they kept leaving her behind. When would this men be properly impressed with her as they should be? When would she finally earn her respect? She was bored of this, of never being one of the gang even if she had earned her place a million times over.
The warriors three. And what was she? A decoration? Had she not proved time and time again that she was a warrior too? Why not the warriors four? Did it matter that much to include her for once in their name and their shenanigans? But noooo, names were for boys as was everything else that was exciting.
“Sif! Wait, Sif!”
Oh, great. Something even worse than being lost in the woods, being lost in the woods with tiny Loki. Sif wasn't really sure why she disliked him that much, because it wasn't something that you thought about. Everybody disliked Loki and everybody wished Thor wasn't his brother so they could teach a lesson or two to that prissy magic boy. That was just they way things were.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, sighing. She didn't have a lot of patience.
“Looking for Thor and the others and....”
There was some noise above them and the sky darkened. Sif understood too late that it was a landslide, and that they were about it to be buried.
She wasn't, though, she was magicked out of there somehow.
Loki.
Loki, who..... was nowhere in sight. When the dust settled, she called his name. A lot of times. But couldn't see him. This was bad.
“Help.” It was strangled, almost inaudible, but it gave her an idea of where he was. Under the rubble. Oh no, this was bad.
He'd only got to the edge of the falling rocks it would seem. Damn, she could see one of his legs.
“Oh, norns, don't worry, Loki, I'm getting you out!”
And so she started pulling those rocks away, wishing that she too could do some magic and get this done in a minute.
“Can't do some spell? This may take a while.”
“Can...not...breathe...”
Came the boy's strangled voice from under the rocks. Yeah, if he couldn't he probably wouldn't be able to do something as complicated as magic. And she needed to hurry. Loki may not be her favourite person in Asgard, but he was her favourite person's little brother, and he couldn't breathe. They all knew how fragile Loki was, and Thor would never forgive her if something bad happened to Loki while with her.
In the end, Loki was able to free himself, mostly, but he looked horrible. Most of his face was going to bruise and was badly cut up, his left arm was probably broken, and he was making a godawful noise every time he breathed, even if there were no more rocks on his chest.
“Thor's going to kill me” She couldn't help saying. She helped Loki up, and put his arm over her shoulders, seeing as he could hardly stand without help.
“Heimdall, bring us to the Bifrost.”
But nothing happened.
“Heimdall, this is urgent. The prince is hurt.”
And still nothing.
“What...?”
Loki was still wheezing horribly next to her, and she got angry.
“Can you stop? I'm trying to get us out of here!”
And then she looked at him, and really saw him, for once. Maybe for the first time.
He was bleeding all over, but still trying to walk, even if it was clearly painful. His face was full scrapes and gashes and his eyes were looking at her, hurt. (Green eyes, where had he got those? Thor's eyes were a dead ringer for Odin's,Loki's... made no sense). He had been buried by a bunch of rocks and could hardly draw air and still she was being mean to him.
“You are injured, and I am not helping. I apologise.”
Loki half smiled, his long face seeming a bit nicer, if still a bit too bony and sharp. He was all angles that boy. Thor had grown up strong and broad, and Loki had grown up wiry, skinny, all cheekbones and dark hair. He's grown out his hair, maybe to look like his brother, but Thor's was fair like the sun and Loki's was black as midnight. It was that, wasn't it? Their problem with Loki was that he was different.
Sif felt bad. Loki was shunned for the very same reason she was: because their interests and build didn't go well with their perceived roles. She, as a woman, wasn't supposed to want to fight and go on adventures and, he, as a man, wasn't supposed to be interested in spells and healing. She was being mean to him for the same reason she didn't want others to be mean to her, and it was ridiculous. They were defying expectations, both different from what they should be.
By all accounts, they should have been friends. But Sif had been too blinded by Thor to look at his bothersome little brother twice.
A little brother who seemed to be getting worse, those horrible wheezes sounding worse and being more far apart. She was getting real worried, now.
“Can't you heal yourself?”
Loki seemed to be in the verge of tears as he looked at her and continued to struggle to breathe.
“You would probably need to be able to breathe for that, I imagine. I just now nothing about magic, you know. Too dark and shady.”
Loki's eyes seemed even sadder now and Sif could have hit herself. The boy is in a world of pain and you insult his passion. Way to go, girl.
“Heimdall, please, Loki is injured and it's getting dark!”
“....Sif......”
The sound he was making was the most dry painful sounding thing she had ever heard, but still, he was trying to talk.
“...I can try.... get us....”
“Won't it hurt you more?”
Loki shrugged, as if saying “what other choice do we have?” and she nodded his way, really hoping this wouldn't kill him. She felt as is she was lifted up in the air and suddenly they were in the palace, Loki was falling bonelessly on top of her.
“You got us back! That was incredible!”
Loki made the loudest “I can't breathe” sound and his eyes rolled back in his head. She ran with him in his arms to Eir and left him in the woman''s expert care, worried. She was feeling horrible about all the times she'd been mean to him, or let other people's opinions of Loki cloud her judgement.
Loki was just a boy, a boy who used magic to help himself and other. A peculiar one, maybe, someone who didn't like that much as a prince as Thor but... He had got her out of the landslide, and back to the palace before dark.
Thor and the others were back,, and they talked about wild beast that nearly tore them apart and spent way too long about how valiant they were (they could be a bit self-absorbed sometimes) before she could put in a word and say:
“I was in a landslide, and I am all right, but Thor, Loki was hurt – he couldn't breathe. I took him to Eir....”
And he was gone. Running towards the infirmary, without another word.
The warriors three were ready to mock the little princeling for being so weak.
“So he got hurt, huh? What a surprise.”
“Not another word.” Sif said, serious. “He was hurt and still he got us back to safety, risking his own health. He was braver than I've ever seen three of you be, so stop your mocking.”
And she stormed out behind Thor, to get some updates. It turned out that one of Loki's lungs had collapsed, and the other had been close to it. Now they had put him in a healing sleep, and were hoping to avoid any lasting damage.
She decided to be nice to Loki, from then on.
Her conviction lasted for about six weeks.
But many years later, when she was in a ship after losing her planet, she saw the heroes, and saw him there too. She remembered that boy with all the angles, who had just wanted to be part of their group, despite being a bit different. He wasn't all that bad.
In fact, this was the second time he was her saviour.