NC17 (slash, somewhat AU, sexual content, violence, non-con/dub-con, pseudo-incest, no beta) Pairings: Thor/Loki, Thanos/Loki
Additional warnings: There is a scene where Loki shapeshifts briefly into a female.
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PT. 2:
Numbness spreads through Loki. No one has shed tears in his absence, nor will they shed tears when he is gone. So, what incentive is there for him to shed tears of his own now? His mind goes blank in that moment and he makes his peace in knowing it will all be done with. The endless pain and tribulations. Gone.
In the aftermath of it all, he can't help, but think back on the events leading up to his capture. He feels his body perspire with ceaseless anxiety as he awaits imminent judgement. All while, in silence; he re-analyzes every noted miscalculation within a plan — a plan of his own making — guaranteeing him and his accomplices their share in victory. If only he had known the tenacity of his rivals. One of them being his former brother, Thor.
All his tedious plotting had been for naught because of their alliance. The 'Avengers'. How ridiculous...It was incomprehensible that they would ever find common ground. Apparently, that common ground involved his defeat.
Loki stops short of a grimace, he hasn't even the freedom to shape it to completion. This attachment, bearing on his mandible and intrusively between his lips was added for the sole intent of demeaning him. Subdued and on the brink of impending death, as he was again, he surrenders to the maelstrom brewing in the hollows of his mind.
In one instance, Loki would find himself overlooking the skyline of a majestic, Midgardian city. It was said to be called 'New York'. Tall structures scattered the horizon, like the towers of Asgard's palace. Pillars that once stood skyward, were now fallen and shattered by the unhindered assault of the Chitauri arsenal. It was a lot like a forest comprised of wires, glass and steel, gone up in smoke.
For creatures regarded so brash and uncivil, these mortals were nonetheless capable of impressive feats.
Loki stood menacingly on the outer rim of the Stark Tower's platform, arms extended in embrace. He couldn't help the smirk forming on his lips, nor deny the thrill he felt observing the nature of chaos overwhelm the city below. 'A morbid solace', was how he would describe it.
Brandished by elaborate and nearly impenetrable armor, along with his most prized asset, there was nothing to stop him. Not anyone, not Thor. This marvelous tool of conquest was bestowed to him by a nameless tyrant who ultimately had given Loki command of the Chitauri, as well. He held the scepter out before him, clasping both hands around the stem and visually examining the artifact adjoined to the upper shaft. The glowing, pulsing energy it manifested enthralled him. This was his to wield and his to control. A weapon powered by the tesseract itself and he would not be precarious in its use. With this, he would carve a kingdom of his own.
...
Another rift in time, not long after.
Loki was now tracking Thor's hefty frame tread across that same platform. The elder god's electric blue eyes peered back at him behind long strands of golden hair that had fallen past his face. It was an unsettling scrutiny emphasized with Mjolnir fastened in his grip.
This relic, Thor possessed, unnerved Loki to no end. A solid testimony of his former brother's fortitude and brute strength. The trickster hesitated and withdrew several steps, distancing himself from the burly warrior. Of course, it garnered him nothing. Thor hastened his pace in response.
Then, for a second, he felt that he'd left his body and beheld himself as an outsider would; reading the story of his life like a book.
How bizarre it all was, and how far he transcended in such little time...
The questions would come with no answers to follow.
Why again had he come here? What precisely was he hoping to accomplish...?
And mostly, why was his beloved Thor running towards him so fiercely, his face twisted with scorn?
He could not fathom the seriousness of the crisis at hand, not in this light. It was almost comical to him.
The moment of introspection did not last long, Loki was alerted by the quake of his current rival's heavy steps approaching. This was no day-dream. He could feel his muscles aching and see the cool vapor of his breath against the warm, stagnant air. A stark reminder of his Jotunn biology.
Beads of sweat dotted his brow and desperation mounted. He lied in wait for Thor, luring him within proximity, then strained his shoulders against the weight of his armor, swinging the razor-end of the scepter at his foe's temple. It was delivered with calculated, deliberate accuracy, but as expected, the feral scion of Odin had foreseen it.
As if by instinct alone, Thor avoided the encounter with surprising grace. He angled his torso, leaning from the scepter's lethal edge. It would have grazed him had it not been for a mere fraction in time, separating them and permitting the scepter veer beyond risk. Now, the blade was swinging away from its target; making Loki susceptible to attack.
They both knew this and Thor was swift to exploit it. Without further ado, he looms upon his younger brother, raising Mjolnir high, threatening to destroy the silver-tongue with a single strike. But it never came.
Loki understood that Thor was no amateur to combat. He was rich with untold years of battle and he was again faced with the humiliating fact that his would-be brother had spared him.
...
Fast forward only moments later and they were entwined in what seemed to be an unending power-struggle.
Thor made progress, containing him. He grasped at his brother's arms, stilling him. He had no desire in hurting him, he only wished to see Loki as he once did. Revive him from whatever power inveigled him. Meanwhile the trickster frolicked, making every effort to push him away.
"It's too late to stop it!" Loki cried out in rebuttal to his brother's earlier assessment. A world to rule or not, maybe it wasn't what he had wanted, and he didn't care. For the time being, he could only concentrate on his steps as he was pushed towards the end of the platform, forcing him to brace against the tower's outer walls. There was no where else to go.
"No." Thor contended, evoking his words with as much sincerity as he could muster, "We can…..Together."
Unable to find the proper words to retaliate with, Loki flustered, his face visibly ridden with shame. It was an unusual occurrence and he lacked the immediate strength to neglect the manner in which his one-time kin had looked him in the eyes. A humble plea to reunite them; he would have never expected his brother's forgiveness, so soon and resolute.
Foolish oaf. He thought with pity. After all that had transpired, why did he still believe…?
And to his astonishment, the hardened resolve he guarded so adamantly broke apart by only the virtue of Thor's words, a single tear escaping him. It trickled down his cheek, confessing more than his tongue ever allowed.
But it was too late for the liesmith. How could Thor not know this? Did he expect him to surrender and willfully hand over his sovereignty to Asgardian rule? A sure death sentence awaiting him in the end.
No, granting Thor the opportunity to witness the fragility he layered beneath the many masks he wore was regretful. The taste of triumph was much too close for Loki, he could savor it and he would not relinquish it now.
Apart from personal glory, was the contingency of failure that roused the silver-tongue from his lamenting; the fear it created, reigniting him with undue purpose.
How dare he?...That arrogant brute; did he truly expect forgiveness in return? Never...Loki vowed. Never again, would he offer this impostor of a brother another chance to capitalize on his weakness as he had done so many times in the past.
Undeterred and without consideration, he pierced Thor below the rib-cage with a hidden throw-dagger that he'd tucked away. He routinely veiled it under the sleeve of his bracer in the event that he'd actually need it. And he certainly did now.
"Sentiment..." Loki whispered to him absently, pressing the blade through a wall of armor and flesh. Contempt had taken root in him and his expression, placid before, stressed into a sneer.
Thor did not have the repeated fortune of thwarting this close quartered attack, just as Loki had hoped; nor had it been enough to critically damage him.
As sudden as the memory of that day appears to him, it fades back into a sea of darkness, leaving him to current matters...
On his knee, in the stillness of a somber, alien world, Loki is keen to the slightest sounds. Briefly, he listens to the pronounced, irregular beating of his heart. Then a rustling is heard behind him, and he is positive that Thanos will dispose of him like he were refuse.
Despite his outward disposition; he is grateful not having to face Odin, Frigga and the others. To be admonished and reminded of the disgrace he has become. He would have, undoubtedly, been brought before the council for treason. A crime worthy of death on its own.
Surely, Allfather must now regret ever taking him as his adoptive son and providing him a home in his kingdom. Perhaps, it would have been better to have left him there to his fate on Jotunheim; to die abandoned and unwanted. Has this not been his destiny, regardless?
Alas, he cannot deny fate now.
His lids grow heavy on his weary eyes, waiting on that final blow; be it a shattering hit to his neck, severing his vertebrae or better yet, an explosive reaction tearing him apart, into smithereens.
It startles him awake to hear the tyrant's daunting voice indulge him instead.
"Nevertheless, I may still have use for you, runt. For this reason alone, your meager existence will continue. In addition, I shall have your speech restored."
A cunning smile spreads on the Titan's face unbeknownst to the liesmith.
Loki senses the contraptions tied to his muzzle begin to loosen. The straps secured on either side seem to fall apart on their own, unraveled by some unseen force. He does not hide his shock. His eyes are wide, stunned to realize how easily this being has undone the bindings of the gag. The Titan's steps resume, until Thanos stands before him anew.
Gloved fingers snake below Loki's jaw, coaxing his head back and the muzzle is pulled away from his lips. He hears the clamor of the muzzle fall upon the ground, discarded.
The unyielding pressure around his mouth that had kept him in silence subsides gradually. He coughs hoarsely, clearing his throat. As he prepares to speak, Loki forces himself to concentrate on the face of his superior. His eyes warily greet the Titan's own. To his relief, he feels his mouth moving freely and once more, hears the soothing sound of his own voice. "Thank you..." He utters between ragged breaths. "...My lord."