A/N: This oneshot is inspired by and pays homage to Cersei's scene with Septa Unella in Game of Thrones 6x10. Not necessary to be familiar with that scene, but credit where credit is due. Also, Loki acts pretty dark in this scene, so a general trigger warning.
Odin's eye slowly crept apart to a bleary view of the ceiling mural. Everything on him hurt, but the most intense stabbing pain surrounded his mouth. As he tried to pull his lips apart, he found that he could not for they were stitched together. He attempted to bring his hand to meet his mouth, but he just as quickly found that both his hands and, indeed, his entire body were shackled down to the table. He struggled with all his might to break free, but he found that despite all his power, he could not escape.
"Good morning father," a familiar voice said in an upbeat tone.
Odin's vision cleared enough to focus on Loki approaching him with a smug smirk cracking through his face. His hair had been cut back short again. No longer was he wearing his typical ensemble. Instead, he wore a black leather robe decorated with silver embellishments. Odin attempted to shout and curse his son, but with his lips sewn shut, he couldn't muster a word.
"Yes, I do apologize for your lips," Loki said as he ran his fingers across the stitching. "But our conversations in the past had become so monotonous. I felt it to be time that you listened to me without the all too distracting element of your own voice."
Odin growled in anger but did not attempt to speak again.
"Incredible how just a few drops of this elixir can completely severe you from the Odinforce," Loki mused, holding up a glass vial to admire, "a fact I wasn't privy to until an associate clued me in. To think a mere potion was all it took to strip the King of the Gods down to the level of a mere mortal."
Loki picked up a goblet of mead sitting on a side table. He took a sip and then proceed to pour the frothy beverage in Odin's face. Odin sputtered and shook his head as the mead stung his eye and dribbled up his nose.
"It felt good, didn't it?" Loki asked. "Building up my hopes only to crush them, lying to me, humiliating me, imprisoning me. You didn't do it because it was right or just; you did it because it made you feel good. It made you feel good to take the son of your hated enemy and crush him under your almighty thumb, didn't it?"
Odin remained silent and just glared at Loki, his expression unreadable.
"It's alright, father," Loki continued, patting Odin on the cheek. "I understand. I do things because they feel good too. I lie because it feels good. I made the humans bow because it felt good to have power over them. I snuck the Frost Giants into Asgard because it felt good to ruin Thor's big day. I killed Laufey because it felt good to punish him for abandoning me. I unleashed the Bifrost on Jotunheim because I felt good to burn them... to image the horror on their faces as everything those monsters had known was torn apart right before their eyes. I took your throne and locked you away down here because it felt good. It feels good knowing that the son you so despised, the one whom you never wanted to be king, is the one in control of your precious legacy. It feels good to think about how powerless you are to stop it. Nothing has ever felt better, father... Hmph. Even finally telling the truth feels good under the right circumstances."
Loki leaned down towards Odin and plucked at the thread forcibly holding his mouth closed. Odin winced but would not give Loki the satisfication of groaning in pain.
"You remember when Laufey tried to kill you?" he asked. "How he wanted his face to be the last thing you ever saw? How I saved your life? Well, I knew from that moment that my face had to be the very last face you ever laid eyes, or eye in your case, upon."
Odin shut his eye and turned his head to face the cieling again, indicating to Loki that he was ready for death and did not fear his son's threat. Loki simply laughed in response.
"You misunderstand me," he said with a taunting grin. "I'm not ging to kill you today. Oh no. I've dreamt of this for a long time, and I'm going to enjoy it. I could end you here and now, but it feels oh so much better to make you suffer first. To make you wait. To make you beg for the end. To savor this moment I've dreamt of for centuries."
Something large was stirring in the dark that Odin couldn't fully make out just yet. Loki gestured to the shadows, beckoning the figure to come forward. When it entered the light, Odin saw the creaturely clearly to be a wolf with blood red eyes.
"Father, you remember my son, Fenris?" he asked. "How was it you described him all those years ago, again? An abominable byproduct of my perversion? Was that it? Such a terrible thing to say about your own grandson. I think dear Fenris is due some retribution of his own."
Fenris growled at Odin and snarled, revealing his mouth full of jagged fangs. Loki smirked as he walked to the door.
"Fenris, my son, enjoy your quality time with your grandsire," he said on his way out. "As for you, father, I'll see you again tomorrow... well... give or take a few bits."
Loki shut and locked the door behind him to the sound of thrashing teeth and muffled cries of agony.
And it felt good.