#but the biggest cw is the fluff at the end RIP @ me tbh

[finestswordsmanfandral]

And Into the Light | Fandral & Thor, ft. Loki & the Bloodwraith

[Counterpart - Thor’s Perspective]

Earlier that evening...

Fandral’s throat was dry. He was tired of screaming. The skin around his wrists and ankles was red and sore from the chains he dragged around the void. He was sitting with his head on his knees, arms wrapped around his thinned legs. His body was deteriorating, pale and aching. This creature was slowly killing him and some days he wondered why he didn’t just give up.

Perhaps it was the infrequent visits from Sir Percy and Dane. They gave him new information about the destruction; he often didn’t want to hear it. He himself wasn’t committing these thoughtless murders, but his body was. Even if he didn’t enjoy hearing about the slaughters, having company even briefly was better than the silence.

Then, he heard something. Something familiar. Someone he recognized.

Heimdall.

“Leave this place now.”

Fandral lifted his head. He was on Asgard now. His weak heart felt leapt, beating faster and stronger. The wraith didn’t say anything, but he heard Heimdall shouting and there were swords clashing.

Then came the thunder.

Fandral stood. Thor had arrived.

“Fandral is dead,” He heard the wraith say.

He clenched his fists. “No, I’m not.”

A jolt of electricity shot through his body, knocking him down onto the ground - this was the first time he had felt an external attack. He lifted his arms, and the shackles on his wrists were crackling with blue and white lightning. Even an entity of death wasn’t impervious to Thor’s power.

He could hear the battle ensuing as he lifted himself back to his feet.

“You will die now, prince.”

“No!” Fandral shouted. “Don’t hurt him! Please!”

He heard the wraith laughing - but the laugh was caught short.

“Not so fast, snake.” That voice...Loki? Before he could wonder why the long lost Asgardian Prince was with Thor, he felt something else.

The blackened void was met with a yellow white at the peak. Fandral felt the floor give out beneath him and he was floating between nothing and something. A hand reached through the darkness, grabbing hold of his body and ripping him free of the shackles. The light in front of him was so bright and he blinked a few times.

“I don’t think this will hold long, Fandral, so speak quickly.”

Fandral inhaled sharply. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the detailing of Heimdall’s conservatory surrounding him. He was in control, but only just. The figures before him focused and his eyes immediately locked with Thor. He relaxed, though the pressure of the wraith was pulsing in his brain. He felt a gentle kick and remembered he needed to speak.

“The sword is his power,” He said. Hearing his own voice reverberating in his throat was a strange sensation. “It must be cleansed. Thor, you must go to Camelot. He’s gaining power so he can return there to rule. Thor, you have to go - you need to save everyone.”

Thor was quick to interrupt: “I need to save you.”

Fandral shook his head saying, “No! He won’t stop.” The wraith was clawing its way out. He felt himself sinking back inside himself. “Thor - “

He was too late.

“No, no, no, no, no!” But the words weren’t coming from his mouth anymore.

He was falling. The light around him faded, and he landed flat on his back in the same familiar emptiness. He watched as the last flicker of white blipped out of existence. A silvery smoke rose from the darkness and wrapped around his extremities and a metal shink! solidified around his wrists and ankles. The shackles returned, and the chains secured him down.

For the first time in months, he finally had hope. Even though his imprisonment was more strict now than ever before, that meant the wraith was afraid. It didn’t want to risk Fandral getting out again and telling Thor about the Brazier of Truth.

-- --

[Counterpart - Thor’s Perspective]

Later that evening...

The Bloodwraith was weakened. He could feel they were passing through the Bifrost, which made him woozy, and he shut his eyes. He lay completely helpless and pinned. They were undoubtedly on their way to Camelot. He learned it was an old Midgardian kingdom that was sealed away. He didn’t have time to relay that to Thor, but he had the resources available to find it regardless.

As he settled back into the abyss, the creaks and aches of his bones returned. Then an intense pressure planted itself on his chest. He winced at the pain and he cracked one eye open. A ghostly image was hovering over his body. The wisps of smoke corporealized on top of him, and a knee was pressing down hard on his ribs.

The figure looked like him, which wasn’t entirely surprising.

“You’ve aged, swordsman. Soon your bones will turn to ash and your body will rot and I will prevail. Then I will kill your friends. The last thing they will see is their dear friend Fandral disemboweling them. Maybe I’ll keep you alive long enough to hear their screams...I haven’t yet decided.”

Fandral tensed and tried to lunge forward. The chains gave ever so slightly, but they were tightened quickly by the wraith. The imposter stood up and the dimension shifted, so Fandral was upright as if he were against a wall.

“Thor will defeat you,” It said, pulling forward on the chains again.

The wraith laughed. “Your tenacity continues to astound me. We will be in Camelot soon enough. Then I shall deal with you.”

Without another word, the figure vanished into smoke. He hung his head and sighed.

-- --

Fandral didn’t know how long he had waited. The wraith had never visited him before, but something told him that wouldn’t be the last time he saw it that day. As long as Thor was on the case, he wouldn’t rest until the evil was destroyed.

Soon enough, smoke manifested before him, and the shadow returned. He looked angry.

“That Asgardian is truly insufferable...though I suppose that is in your nature. You’re the strongest will I’ve come across in my entire existence.”

It sounded like a compliment, but Fandral knew it wasn’t intended to be.

“Why are you here? Are you afraid you’re going to lose?”

His fake laughed, then frowned. It pulled its arm back and punched directly into Fandral’s stomach. The chains holding him taught collapsed as his torso jolted backwards. No longer being held up, his knees dropped and his wrists strained under his weight.

“You would do well to keep silent.” The wraith snarled.

Fandral’s eyebrow furrowed. “And if I don’t?”

A swift kick came next. The creature had to’ve been afraid because it kept throwing kicks and punches at Fandral. He wasn’t dying fast enough, and the wraith was running out of time.

It reached backwards into the darkness and smoke manifested a dagger.

“Do you know what this is?” It asked. Fandral eyed the weapon, but the metal was so dark he could only see the hilt. “This is the obsidian dagger. Or...not really. That dagger was destroyed long ago, but - that doesn’t mean this won’t do the trick.”

Before Fandral could react, the wraith punched the dagger into his side. He yelled out in pain as the blade stuck his organs.

Unfortunately for the Bloodwraith, he did get his chance outside again. The same white light pulled him out of his body shone above the two. The wraith dissipated in the light, blasting away into smoke. His arms and feet dropped as the shackles unhinged and he drifted up towards the real world.

This time he saw Loki first. He coughed into his arm and saw red spatter along his sleeve.

“Loki, this thing is killing me. I - I don’t know how much longer I can fight it. You need to cleanse the sword in the Brazier of Truth - in the church.” He looked to Thor as he appeared up the steps. “Only someone worthy can light it.”

Fandral started to black out before the mind effect wore off. He slipped back into the abyss, landing hard on the imagined floor. He weakly lifted his head, seeing the bloody dagger next to him. He reached over and grabbed the hilt. As he pulled the dagger towards him, a boot stepped from out of the darkness and onto the blade.

“Leave me alone,” Fandral said, pulling his hand away from the dagger.

“And I thought you enjoyed company. After all, you spend so much time with those pretty women...and men.”

“I would rather spend eternity with Malekith the Accursed than you.”

It chuckled. “Do you still not know what this is? Do you not know where we are?”

Fandral grabbed onto his side and slid up to his knees. He stared up at the creature before him - but it was more than that. He nodded slowly.

“I’ve known for a while.”

On one of the visits with Sir Percy and Dane, they divulged information to him about what the ebony blade does to people like him. When the blade accumulates souls, it begins to break the user's soul, depending on how many lives they have taken.

Fandral had a violent reaction - worse than anyone could have imagined. His physical being shattered. The man bleeding on the ground was a mere fragment remaining of the true Fandral. The abyss was somewhere deep in his mind, but the evil being was in control. The Bloodwraith was just another side effect of the curse.

The true Fandral couldn’t hear the fight going on around him. He didn’t know that the physical wraith was trapped in fear, or that Thor and Loki were being fighting his ‘evil self’ outside. Time didn’t pass, and everything was still. His imposter bent down to pick up the obsidian dagger and extended it towards Fandral. With a small shimmer it elongated until it resembled the ebony blade.

“Once you’re dead, there will be nothing left. You will be free of this prison, off in Valhalla with our kin...or maybe you’ll go to Hel, where you belong. Assuming a fragment of a person could even find their way to the afterlife.”

Fandral looked to the ground. He clenched his side, where blood spilled from his wound. He closed his eyes. It can’t end like this.

The ground shook vigorously for a few seconds, and his alternate staggered backwards.

“Fandral!” Thor’s voice echoed throughout the void.

His eyes shot open and he pushed himself up to his feet. He charged forward and yelled, running directly into the creature. He knocked it onto the ground, and he began punching its face over and over again.

“Give me my body back!” He shouted.

“No!” The evil form growled. With a large heave, it knocked Fandral off and rolled him onto his back. It raised the sword and held it over Fandral’s heart. “If I die, you die with me.”

Fandral’s eyes scanned the blade from hilt to tip slowly. Smoke billowed around him, wrapping around his limbs again. As the smoke tightened around his limbs, he clenched his fists. He refused to die a prisoner.

He firmly planted his feet on the ground. With the last of his strength, he pushed up off the ground with his arms, knocking the wraith back. When their bodies met at a V shape, Fandral felt the sword pierce his skin. As he continued forward, it pushed through his chest and completely out the other side. His palms caught the floor, and he hovered over the wraith, breathing heavily as his body processed being stabbed.

The wraith chuckled. “You don’t give up, do you? This is why you lost.”

Fandral shook his head. He sat upright, pulling the ebony blade from his chest. He felt his wound open like a watergate. “I haven’t lost. It’s like you said...if I die…” He gripped the blade hard. “You die with me.”

Raising the sword over his head, he mustered as much strength as he could and brought the blade down on the wraith’s neck. It’s head held to its neck by threads, but it stopped moving instantly. Fandral continued breathing heavily, resting his forehead on the sword. He pushed himself up to his feet to step over the corpse before him before falling flat onto the ground again.

As he blinked in and out of consciousness, a white blip could be seen in the distance. He lifted his head an inch off the ground.The spot flickered and swelled slowly. He reached one hand out and tried to drag himself forward. He cried out in pain and placed the hand over his wound instead.

“I’m so sorry, Thor,” Fandral whispered, his eyes losing focus. He finally gave in and let his eyes close.

His skin felt warm...then hot...and then boiling. His eyelids clamped tightly and he felt like something was escaping his body. What he couldn’t see was the room around him ruptured with thousands of particles, erasing the blackness from the void around him. The body and sword next to him disintegrated into dust.

The warmth around him died out as his body burst into particles.

-- --

Something rolled him onto his back. He was pulled up and his head rested in what felt like a palm. A hand gripped his side gently, near where he was stabbed. There was no pain there, but his bones ached severely.

“Fandral...please wake up…”

The voice sounded close - Fandral realised he was back in his own body. His face contorted strangely, but he couldn’t quite figure out how to make any of his muscles move.

“Th…hh...oo...r…” He breathed.

Thor pulled him closer, and Fandral’s eyelids slid open. He blinked and looked around, everything focusing on the man hovering above him. The worry on Thor’s face shifted to a sad smile. Fandral smiled until his gaze met with a giant red bruise on the other man’s neck. He reached up and gently touched the mark.

“Did I…?”

Thor shook his head, grabbing Fandral’s hand and holding it tightly. “No...I don’t think…” He glanced away for a moment before continuing, “Do you remember what I gave you the first day we met?”

Fandral glanced away and thought for a moment.

“An apple,” He said finally. “It was gold and you said, ‘this is an apple of everlasting life. If you eat this, you will never be alone because we can be friends forever.’”

Thor sighed in relief and pulled Fandral into a tight embrace.

“Oh Fandral, I missed you so.”

“I missed you, too,” Fandral sniffed.

Thor whispered, “Let’s get you home.”