Unbroken (Loki x Reader)

I should have waited until morning.

With a groan you haul yourself up from the forest floor and brush away the sticks and leaves. You started your trek to the mountains too late in the day yesterday, and only managed to walk for a few hours before night fell, and you were forced to take shelter in a small ditch in the middle of the forest. Throughout the night - alone in the cold and laying in the dirt - your mind traveled back to the trial room. To HYDRA. To the Doctor. It had been cold there, too. Dirty. Lonely. Through the night your dreams were plagued by angry voices, dirty sheets, and the hazy memory of needle pricks.

You wipe away the tear-tracks on your cheeks leftover from your disturbed sleep and immediately call upon your training with the Avengers. 

You're alone. Exposed. In the elements. And it's Steve's voice that echoes loudest in your head.

Assess, move, plan. Never stay too long in one place, but don't be so quick to action that you don't take in your surroundings. Play it smart and play it safe so you always make it back home.

"Gotta make it back home. Back to my baby," you breathe out, cheeks burning with the desire to cry. But now's not the time. So you suck it up, and follow Steve's teachings. "Assess," you breath out, scanning the area. 

It's dense. Quiet. Only the rustling of leaves and the occasional twitter of a bird. In the distance the rocky foot of the mountain rises just above the tree line. You're two, maybe three hours away. 

"Okay Y/n, time to move," you whisper to yourself, beginning the final stretch of the hike. As you fight through the brush - kicking aside sticks and branches - your mind drifts back to the witch. Who is she? Will she help? What will she want in return?

The hours pass as you put one foot in front of the other, with each step pondering what you might be willing to give. You don't have any money - not that it's needed in Asgard. You don't have any land or valuables. No gems or jewels. You start to worry, afraid that your only lead will laugh you right back down the mountain if you show up with nothing but the clothes on your back.

"Don't panic," you mumble, shoving away the doubt as you finally reach the foot of the raised rock bed and let your eyes travel all the way up the side toward the snow-capped peak towering high above. "Find her first, then panic," you grumble to yourself as you leave the forest tree line behind, and find what looks like a rocky, foot-worn path up into the rocks. You hesitate, wondering if this is where you're meant to start the climb.

Follow the flowers, you think, repeating Sif's instructions in your head. What does that even mean?

Keeping your eyes trained on the ground for any sign of flowers, you start up the rocky, uneven path - unsure if you're even going in the right direction or how high you need to climb. Nevertheless you persist in climbing for what seems like hours. You climb until your breath grows labored and sweat drips down not only your forehead, but down your calves as it coats the palms of your hands. You climb as the air chills, and the breeze turns sharp. 

And so you climb, there are no flowers anywhere to be seen.

"Dammit, Sif, I swear to God, if you sent me on a wild goose chase I'm gonna -."

Your words get caught on your own tongue as something....colorful comes into view. Far ahead on the rocky side of the mountain something painted in colored chalks appears. With a surge of energy you break into a jog, desperate to get there. And as you get closer those markings become clear. They're not just markings. They're painted carvings in the rockface. And you'll be damned - they're flowers. Yellow and orange lotus-like blooms surrounded by wispy green stems - blackened and curling at the edges.