Loki woke up cold, stiff, and aching for a good fuck. It had been his plan to spend the night with a nice, clean slave who would ease his stress. Instead, he spent the night dozing off while he watched an old friend twitch and cry out in his sleep. It did very little to help his mood when he saw the bruises scattered across the small stretch of skin that had been exposed in the night. Some of them looked suspiciously like massive hand prints. Which meant someone of Jotunhiem had touched his slave. His friend.
Loki gritted his teeth and rubbed his eyes angrily. This was not helping him in anyway, this rage he felt. He simply did not have the time to take revenge, even for an old friend. He had an insane mage out there hurting his people, the second moon was rising in two weeks time, which meant a month of darkness to suffer through. He still didn't have enough trustworthy men to enforce the strict rationing he was forced to declare thanks to the moronic magic-user. He really did not have the time...
Loki gazed at the pale stretch of skin and frowned deeply. This was Anthony. This broken, starved body below him was someone precious to him, more precious than anyone could understand. Because Anthony and he shared a secret.
26 Years ago
Asgard
Odin had given Thor his first ring for his arm band today. It was garish, made of gold and covered in small gems that didn't seem to form any sensible pattern. Thor had loved it, while Loki noticed his mother's look of slight disgust when she laid eyes on the object. Clearly the Lady Frigga had not been included in the choosing the band. Loki stifled his laughter and slipped back behind the crowd as the adults pressed closer to praise their prince.
"Loki..."
Loki turned and tried to find who was calling him in the sea of bodies.
"Loki, over here you big idiot."
With a curse, he ducked down to look through the adults legs. He spotted a flash of red and dashed after it, twisting and ducking his way around the guests faster and faster.
"Call me an idiot again, you ugly troll!" He called out, jumping past a servant carrying a large, heavy tray full of mead. The woman cried out in surprise, but Loki didn't stop. He launched himself off the top step of the main staircase, landing heavily on the bottom step.
"Idiot!" Came the voice from below the raised pathway.
Loki snarled and darted to the side, casting a glare over the grounds below him. There, standing half behind a shrubbery, was Anthony. He was smirking and waving, confident enough in his lead to pause and mock Loki. Loki bared his teeth in a feral grin and leapt off the top of the fifty foot wall to the gardens below.
He enjoyed his friend's startled cry in response and landed easily in the grass, tumbling and setting off again in a split second.
"I warned you!"
He rounded on his pray and pounced, earning a loud squawk as the boy fell to the ground under him.
"Freyja's tits, Loki," he panted, leaning his head back and groaning, "you weigh a ton. You're a giant."
Loki leaned his head back and took in a deep breath before smashing his forehead into Anthony's face. Anthony sputtered and whimpered, his hands flying up to clutch at his already bleeding nose.
"Whyda do daat?!"
Loki snarled and sat up, letting his weight settle on the boy's stomach. "Make fun of me again, and I shall deliver onto you ten times that. You think it's amusing, my stature? You are one to talk!" Loki jabbed his chest with a finger. "I've known dwarfs taller than you!"
"Youd didnin haff to break myd nose!"
"Oh please," Loki muttered, clicking his tongue, "it's hardly broken. I would have felt it break."
"Id hurds!" Tony whined, kicking his legs under Loki.
After another minute of the boy fussing and wriggling around under him, Loki leaned down and let out a chilly breath over his face. The boy stopped struggling and looked up at him with teary eyes.
"Hold still, you imp," Loki commanded, letting his magic flow freely from his fingers. Anthony's eyes fluttered closed as a sigh of relief escaped his lips.
"Dank you..."
"You did nothing to deserve it," Loki reminded, sitting back up again to look at the bloody mess below him. "You look like the back end of Thor's goat during mating season."
"You look like a widdle blue bird crying for his mommy," Anthony snapped in response, reaching up to flick the white lines that traced down Loki's cheeks. Loki hissed and jerked away from him, real tears quickly forming in his eyes.
He leaped up, giving Anthony one last miserable look before he turned and fled. Loki heard him call out from behind, apologies and begging for forgiveness. But he ignored it and ran and ran and ran.
The gardens came to an end far beyond the inner palace walls. Immaculate green lawns bled into longer grasses and rows upon perfect rows of apple trees. Loki ran between them, cutting across the rows and leaping over left baskets, rods to knock the golden apples down, and even a snoozing grounds keeper. It all blurred into one as he ran, his eyes were so clouded with tears.
At last, he left the trees and entered the fields of wheat. Here, he slowed until he stumbled to his knees and let out a sob. Anthony was always cruel to him, always. He found the most painful part of his heart to poke at, and could be relentless until warned off. Loki had developed a stronger shell because of this, but sometimes the boy still got him.
"I hate... him," Loki choked out, falling on his side to hide behind the silvery stalks to wheat.
It wasn't true, entirely. Because he knew Anthony never meant to hurt him like that. Words just flew from his lips like eager young birds, ready for their first flight. Later, the boy would find him and give him something he made as an apology. It would be amazing, distracting, and just for Loki. Then, Loki would forgive him, just like always. Because Anthony was his only true friend here, no matter how harsh they could be to one another. He always healed Anthony, and Anthony always made amends. That was how it was, and always would be.
Loki grumbled at his thoughts and wiped his eyes. He should not cry like this much longer, not if he wished to get his first arm band like Thor. Thor never cried, he never had any reason to. Which was probably why they didn't get along so well, even if Anthony and him seemed to be friends.
There was a sound, too loud to be a field mouse, but to careful to be Anthony approaching. The boy was anything but subtle with his red robes and flashy smile.
Something about the sound sent a shiver up Loki's spine, and made him strain his ears to hear more. Someone, or something was moving through the wheat as carefully as a cat stalking its pray. Someone who didn't want to be seen or heard, someone who was not supposed to be there.
Loki rose into a crouch and squinted through the wheat. The sound came again from his left, and he hunkered down further when something caught his eye.
Blue. Dusty blue skin, marked with white lines like scars. A Frost Giant was creeping through the fields and heading straight for the palace.
Normally, Odin allowed all races and people to come and go from his kingdom as they pleased. Normally, they would come and go through the city and the Bifrost. But here was someone from Loki's home, far from the normal area that guests should be. Loki crept closer and bit his lip nervously. The giant, was gigantic. Much larger than the servants that his father had assigned him when he left Loki with the lords of Asgard. He had obviously chosen the smallest of his staff for the sake of Loki's comfort. It was no secret that he was different. Smaller than any other Frost Giant, a magic user, and far too weak to live in such a cold environment. His father's advisors told him to kill Loki, warned him that showing mercy was a sign of weakness. Luckily for him, his father chose his own path. Instead, he banished Loki to Asgard to be taken care off by the royal family. Loki knew it was only a 'banishment' in name only, but truly the only way to save his miserable life. Of course he was thankful to be alive, but he missed his home and father dearly.
So Loki called out to the sneaking Frost Giant, thinking little beyond the familiarity of home and the hope of news. The huge man stopped in his tracks and turned swiftly to glare at Loki.
The traditional greeting died in his throat as a massive blue hand closed around his neck and squeezed.
"Who are you?!" He growled, crushing Loki down into the wheat below him. His red eyes narrowed as recognition set in. Of all days to be seen by one of his own. Today Loki was wearing the traditional robes and jewelery of Jotunhiem for Thor's ceremony. Any other day and he would be without the marks of his father's house, dressed in plain clothing and running around half covered in dirt from fighting Anthony. The hand did not loosen from around Loki's neck even as he recognized him. "I know you... you are that banished prince."
Loki clawed at the hand desperately, the words beginning to fade from hearing from the rushing of the blood in his ears. He choked and gasped and clawed some more.
"No wonder our king abandoned you," the giant continued, looking over Loki's skinny body with disgust. "You are smaller than my wife! Look how feeble your struggling is." He leaned closer and breathed into Loki's face. "Look how easily I can break you."
Loki let out one final whimper before the hand tightened around his throat. His vision swam and bursts of light flashed in time with his slowing heartbeat. One... two... three...
A mighty roar filled the air, and a sickening crunch joined it soon after. Something was prying the fingers from Loki's neck, biting at his bruised skin as they pulled away. Air at last. Dry, dusty air filled Loki's lungs and he choked on it. It burned in his throat and pained his lungs with every struggling breath. Hands lifted his head from the ground and Loki panicked, lashing out with his nails.
"Loki! Ow, fuck! Stop!" Came a voice, warm hands catching his. "It's me, stop trying to kill me you idiot."
"Anth—" Loki wheezed and fell into another fit of coughing. It hurt so much and he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes yet.
"I got you," Anthony said, his voice soothing in Loki's ear. "Stop flailing around and relax, okay? Panicking is only going to make it worse."
Loki nodded a little and went limp in his arms, his hands still squeezing Anthony's tightly. The boy squeezed back and pulled him into a sitting position, letting his body lean heavily against him.
"Let me know when you're done so I can start panicking myself."
Loki leaned back and opened his eyes at last. He gasped at the sight in front of him. Anthony was splattered with a dark, almost purple substance. It dripped from his face and pooled in his lap. The hands that squeezed Loki's reassuringly, were coated with the stuff. The face that looked back at Loki was not the grinning fool he was used to seeing. Anthony was pale, his eyes were so wide and scared they looked as deep and dark as the well.
"Anthony," he croaked, "what is... is this... blood?"
"P-probably."
Loki looked around for the first time and saw the Frost Giant laying to the side, also covered in the dark blood. About half of his head was missing, and Loki let out a hysterical laugh at the sight.
"Hey, i'm the one who's supposed to p-panic. I just..." Anthony trailed off, his eyes beginning to water, "I just k-killed someone!"
Loki clenched the boy's hands and pulled him closer, ignoring the mess that was now covering him as well. "You saved me. He was killing me, so do not think of it as any other way."
"I just... I saw him and I was about to say 'hi ugly' and I noticed you under him and I just... I hit him."
Loki swallowed and winced, his throat still sore. "What did you hit him with?"
Anthony blinked a few times and something of his old self returned as he let go of one of Loki's hands and pulled something from his pocket. It was a round circlet of metal with a blue stone inlaid in the center. Two clasps connected on either side of it, strung together by a leather thong. There was a hum of energy coming from the stone that Loki could not identify, even with his magic.
"You blew something up again?" He asked, looking up from the device.
"His head." Anthony nodded to the body and smiled weakly. The smile did not reach his eyes.
"Anthony," Loki began softly before something over the boy's shoulder caught his eye. He froze in fear when another pair of red eyes met his own. There was a second one.
This time, the roar came from the giant as it lunged towards them. Loki had a split second to decide how to avoid the attack. He glanced back at Anthony's confused face and decided not to. Instead, he pushed him to the side and dug his heels into the ground just as the massive body slammed into him. They both flew backwards, and there was a sharp pain as they fell. Blood began to fill his mouth. Loki had landed with all of the giant's weight on top of him, crushing the air right out of his already abused lungs. With a choked moan, Loki glared up at the engaged face above him and spit blood into his eyes.
"Augh?! You little—"
A sharp blade of ice flashed through the air and embedded itself in the giant's neck. Loki's vision filled with dark blood and he screamed as it sprayed over his face. The body fell against his, twitching and jerking on top of him. Something in his chest snapped under the weight and he choked in pain and the blood that was now trickling down his throat.
Then, it was over. The body stopped moving and the spray slowed to a dribble. Anthony appeared and pushed the dead man off of him with a grunt.
"Loki? Are you okay?! What happened?"
Loki stared up at the blue sky, his body felt violated and broken, his vision cloudy from pain. Anthony hovered over him, looking beyond exhausted.
Loki met his eyes at last and mumbled around the mess in his mouth, "... I killed him."
They left that field with a promise to never tell anyone what exactly happened. They both swore to bend the truth as much as possible, to save themselves and each other. They had been covered in blood, bruises, cuts, a fractured wrist for Anthony, and two broken ribs for Loki. So, instead of heading right back to the palace, they hobbled together to the nearest stream and proceeded to clean up as best as they could. They did so in complete silence.
Their return was not greeted with much rejoicing, since their absence had long since been noted and counted as a disappearance. When the maids laid eyes on the two figures limping up the palace steps, soaking wet and bruised all over, a fuss went up immediately. Frigga pulled Loki to the side, seeing that he seemed more harmed than the other, and started to heal what she could find. She soon came to realize that his refusal to tell her where it hurt was because his tongue had swollen up from biting it. But even after he was healed, he would not answer any questions. It was the same for Anthony, just silence.
Even after both boys were patched up and re-clothed, and were placed in front of Odin himself, they refused to explain. Even after the two bodies were found, each with children's hand prints on them, they would not speak a word. Odin raged, threatened, and nearly smacked them both in his desperation to know how the two Frost Giants met their deaths. So they lied and said they were playing and found the bodies. They claimed the wounds were from each other, that they had been afraid of the bodies so they did not speak of them. Loki watched the suspicion grow in the king's eyes the longer the spoke. He watched as disappointment soon took its place.
That had been the beginning of the end. Two weeks later, Anthony was gone from his life. Then it was just him, alone with the royals who no longer trusted him. For he was left with the blame for the murders, even if there was no proof. He was mocked and bullied, when he wasn't being completely ignored. People started to speak of the Frost Giants as ruthless brutes who would kill their own kind for amusement. It was Loki against the world, and the entire realm was against him.
Anthony had just stirred from his sleep before sitting up quickly enough to startle Loki from his thoughts. A short assessment of the room seemed to put the man at mild ease before he spotted Loki.
"Lo... Sire..."
"Oh, please," Loki groaned, "anything but that. I hear it enough around here without it coming from you as well."
Anthony smiled that half smile and looked down at the bed. After blinking at the furs for a moment, he let out a mournful sound and scrambled out of the bed.
"My apologies! I did not mean to take your bed, my lord!" He yelled, falling to his knees by the bed and bowing his head nearly to the floor.
Loki turned away quickly and swallowed back the nausea. "Stop. Stand up," he croaked, glancing back and grimacing. Stark stayed plastered to the floor, his body shivering from either cold or fear.
"Stand up, NOW!"
Anthony jumped up and backed away quickly, his eyes looking wildly around the room. Loki reached a hand out to calm him and pulled it back when the man flinched.
"Stark... Anthony, we need to talk. So, if you could please?" Loki gestured to the bed and pulled up a chair beside it. When the man didn't move, Loki commanded in a firmer tone, "Sit. Bed."
Anthony's eyes grew wider behind the mess of hair falling across his face. Eventually he shuffled back over to the bed and sat, somewhat reluctantly.
"Good, now... I shall have you do a few things I would have asked even if we were not friends. But because we are, I shall make sure you understand where your boundaries lie. Understand?"
"Yes..."Anthony stared at him blankly, his eyes growing dull with resignation.
Loki leaned back in his chair and looked him up and down. The clothing was hardly worth calling fabric, let alone wardrobe material. Anthony's fingers looked red and chapped from the cold, something else Loki was going to have to take care of. Loki scowled at his fireplace and raised the fire to a much higher blaze with a flick of a wrist. The man flinched a little, but gave an appreciative smile to Loki. It wasn't much, but any step closer to normality was an improvement.
"First, we need to remove all of that," Loki said, pointing to the scraps he was wearing, "so strip by the fire and let me look at you."
"N...no," Anthony whined faintly, clutching at his dirty pants desperately. "I would rather not, if that's alright."
"There is no need for modesty, it is not as though I haven't seen your body before."
"Not like this, you haven't."
"Anthony," Loki began, a frown starting to form, "if I am going to help you, I need to see the damage. To see said damages, you need to remove that disgusting mass that is covering your body."
"I don't... I don't want to be touched again," Anthony answered quietly, his face turned back to look at his clenched hands.
Loki huffed with irritation and closed his eyes for a brief moment. "That is another thing we need to discuss. You seem to be under the impression I intended to hurt you. Which, of course, I did not." Loki leaned forward to look directly into Anthony's eyes. He spoke slowly, aiming to get his point across as clearly as possible. "I absolutely will not touch you again unless given your permission. With a few exceptions, of course."
"Of course..." Anthony repeated, growing paler.
"If you are in danger," Loki continued, not noticing the way the man stiffened at his words, "or if you trip and fall. I might have to touch you to heal your wounds, other than that I swear on my life I shall not."
Loki gave the man a weak smile and kept the rest to himself. It didn't matter, he could find another slave for those desires. Not that he was going to have time between all this madness. He felt a familiar ache start to grow behind his eyes. The rest of the day was going to be unpleasant, and on barely an hour's sleep to top it all off.
"You promise me you won't..." The man trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
"Won't?" Loki prompted.
"...have your way with me?"
Nausea hit his stomach again and a hand flew to cover his mouth. It took all his effort to not vomit at the thought of it. Taking Anthony against his will, as many others had clearly done before. To rip those rags from his body and press his face into the bed. Loki shuddered with a mix of revulsion, and a surprising spark of excitement.
No, that was not allowed. Not now, not ever. Anthony was to be treasured and treated as the dear friend he was. Not some lifeless sex slave. Loki would have to look elsewhere for a body to abuse in such ways.
"I would rather die than do that to you," Loki answered at last, his eyes settling on Anthony's shoulder.
The man seemed to be studying him for a long while before he stood up quite suddenly.
"As you wish," was all he said before he pulled the grimy tunic over his head.
Loki froze, unable to take his eyes away from the body in front of him. It certainly was not the same as it had been when they swam naked as boys. Under the bruised skin and malnourishment lay some muscles that rippled quite nicely as he tossed the shirt away. But soon Loki's attention was caught by something trailing across the man's skin.
"What are those?" Loki asked, standing from his chair and moving closer without thinking. Anthony had started slipping down his pants when Loki moved, causing him to pause and stare at him in fear.
"My lord?"
"Call me 'Loki' in private, and I asked what..." Loki muttered and leaned closer to peer at the man's chest. It was covered in scars, some old and some new. But the most obvious ones were the names.
Some were etched into his skin like a carving, others branded with hot iron. There were some clearly crossed or burnt out, leaving a wide wound across his skin. Loki traced each one with his eyes, moving around Anthony to find even more on his back. He counted well over twenty names that he could still see. Gods knows how many were scratched out or healed over enough to be unreadable.
His breath caught in his throat as he saw some old familiar names from one of the many parties on Asgard. Names he never thought he would hear again, never mind find carved into Anthony's back.
"I need... I need to touch you, now."
There was a nervous gasp and a long, tense pause after his request. Loki waited, his hand hovering over Anthony's back.
"Please, It will only be a moment," he assured. At that, Anthony gave in with a nod.
Loki brushed his fingers under a long name that scrawled across his shoulder blades. He felt the muscles tense and a course of shudders run through the body under his hand. "Be still, and breathe. This might ache a little."
"You said you wouldn't hurt—!"
Loki's magic swelled beneath his fingers, sending sparks flowing across Anthony's body in seconds. The man let out a startled scream and tried to get away from Loki.
"Anthony! Stop this wriggling about," Loki hissed, already breaking his promise by pulling him closer. Which only caused Anthony to struggle harder, sending them both toppling over backwards. Loki wrapped his arms around him and took the brunt of the fall, letting out a pained whimper as his head struck the floor. The man stopped moving as soon as he heard the sound, only shifting enough to peer over his shoulder at Loki.
Loki tried to sit up, but fell back again with another thud that made his vision swim.
"Lord... Loki?" Anthony was now crouched over him, his eyes wide with concern.
"Did it complete?" Loki asked, having trouble forming the words. His head felt as though it was filled with powdered snow.
"I don't know what you mean," Anthony replied, his fingers ghosting over his face before touching the back of Loki's head tentatively. "You're hurt. I hurt you."
"No..." Loki grumbled, pulling himself up at last before resting his head in his hands, "I hurt myself. But... I just wanted to help."
He was greeted by a worrying silence that forced him to lift his head to see what was wrong. Anthony was still kneeling in front of him, completely devoid of any clothing whatsoever. What made the sight much easier on the eyes was the lack of visible scars.
Oh, they were still there. Loki could not erase such irreparable damage with magic. Magic was a trade of energies, to give was to take away and vice versa. In the end, he did not have the power to remove them completely. So they were dulled, as if they had healed well all that time ago. Healed with with care, as they should have.
"You... You fixed me?"
Loki nodded and regretted it immediately. His head hurt far too much for this. "Yes, I did my best. Now if you would just... be silent for moment." Loki clutched his head and mumbled a few words, unable to do much to help his aching head other than to dull the pain. He wasn't in his top condition today, after all.
"There, that will have to suffice for now," Loki said at last, smiling across at Anthony's worried face. "I think it's time I found you something to wear, unless you do not mind continuing to bless me with the view of your body. I certainly shan't complain."
Anthony looked down at himself and back up, before he jumped away with a squeak. "M a-apologies!"
Loki burst out laughing and stood up, dusting himself off with another good natured chuckle. He had surprised himself, laughing like that. It had been so long since he laughed, he could not even recall when the last time had been.
When the jesters came to the court? When he tricked the council into drinking drugged wine that heated their desires? No, nothing had drawn out of him anything more than a chuckle.
So, still feeling light hearted, Loki entered the side room that was set aside for his clothing. He would have to have some things tailored for Anthony, considering the man seemed to have stopped growing not all that long after they last spoke. That got another snicker out of him as he plucked up some robes for his friend.
"I hope you still wear red, it suits you very—" he nearly tripped over Anthony as he came barreling into the closet just as Loki was leaving. "By the Norns, what is it now?"
"Someone... is here."
Loki frowned and handed over the long red tunic and black pants. "Put these on in here and don't come out, I shall deal with them," he ordered before stepping out into his room. An unknown servant, that Loki had never bothered to remember the name of, was standing awkwardly just inside the door. Loki scowled deeply at him and crossed his arms.
"Firstly, one must never enter the king's chambers without his permission, and I am very busy today. I certainly do not wish to be disturbed by trifling matters!"
"My a-apologies, sire!" The boy stammered out, ducking his head, "it is important."
"What is so important that you felt the need to barge into my chambers and startle his new servant?" Loki snapped, stepping closer to the boy will small, silent steps. He knew how frightening he could be, and enjoyed using that to his full advantage often.
"Th-the village of the north, Harstad , sire."
"What of it?"
"Well... It's, it's gone, sir. The magic user has burnt it to the ground."
Loki's arms dropped from his chest, uncaring how transparent his shock was. "And the villagers, who survived?"
The young servant backed away a little, and looked down at his pale blue hands. "I'm afraid... I..."
"Tell me!"
"N-none of them, My Lord. No one survived."
Loki's anger fell away and shattered in the depths of disrepair. This had been an annoying game, at first. No one had been truly harmed, no lives taken. Yet now, thanks to his negligence a village was lost. An entire village of people, gone.
Loki shoved the boy out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. He clawed at his hair and fell against the door, curled up with his face against his knees. No sound came from him, but a silent scream of rage echoed in his mind. Sturdy arms embraced him, but he could not find comfort in them. Anthony was there, touching him against his will, facing his fears, and Loki could not even rejoice. Because he had let them die. He had as good as killed them. He had failed to stop the mage.
He had failed his kingdom.