Chapter Four.
Slowly and hesitantly, the visitor crosses the threshold to put in plan his morbid silent search for the prisoner, amid the dense darkness of the sumptuous room.
The pale moonbeams come to help his weary sight; their light is like thin sharp swords that pierce the darkness.
Thanks to them, Thor becomes aware of the young man's unexpected absence from his bed.
The bed still appears unruffled; with its purple drapery hung on gold decorative supporters, soft black silk lined pillows lying in the middle of the bed and sheets of the same fabric and color perfectly straight, proof that the ex-Prince never relaxed there that night.
"Where's Loki? Where has he taken refuge?"
Thor asks himself anxiously.
At the thought of the loss, the dread that he has managed to escape invading his confused mind, his heart beats harder and faster.
"Calm down! I should watch better, he cannot escape from the building in these conditions."
He admonishes himself.
And finally he spots Loki curled up in a darkened corner, still wearing the clothes he wore in the afternoon, the head bowed on his knees, the back arched, barely roused by the slight and regular breath.
The craving to burn the distance within a few seconds makes Thor's eyes fill with him, as his own crazy and vigorous heartbeat drums in his ears, but when he gets near, with trembling hands, longing to touch Loki's white skin, his hands ball to fists, he's suddenly angry and lets his voice thunder in hatred, resentment, sorrow.
‹‹ Wake Up! ››
Loki flinches warily hearing the threatening tone and just raises his gentle face.
Numb with the slumber that has caught him, he barely focuses on the unexpected figure before him, taking in the long wavy hair in disarray, the silver armor, cerulean eyes and thinned lips curled, detecting hate in Thor's resentful frown.
Thor.
A blissful feeling invades his heart; he would almost willingly embrace him.
‹‹ What are you doing here? ››
Loki instantly awakens his conscience and addresses the unexpected visitor with an unstable, flat voice.
‹‹ I refuted your evening visit, didn't I? ››
His instincts convey him back to his hostile pose, cautious while he sweeps away the raving joy.
‹‹ Stand up, traitor! ›› The other almost growls.
‹‹ I beg your pardon? ››
Loki widens his eyes in surprise, then takes a quick look at the arrogant man who looks exhausted and confused disregarding his ill-mannered reminder.
The passive waiting irritates the Asgardian heir who speeds up the action, grabbing his small shoulders firmly in order to lift him unceremoniously.
‹‹ Hey, what the hell are you doing?! ›› Loki complains as he looks him straight in the eyes and sees a boundless anger.
‹‹ Why the vehemence, Thor? ››
‹‹ You really mean you don't know? You ... untrustworthy, insincere, cruel liar! ››
The Prince of Asgard grasps Loki's face in his hands screaming at him harshly.
‹‹ Oh, have you acted well the wounded lover role this afternoon! And in the meantime you conspired against me once again! ››
Loki smells the strong scent of mixed alcohol in his fiancée's warm breath and, alarmed by the evidence, he tries to get free by force gripping his hands, but he only gets a vigorous tug from his harasser who violently confines him between the wall and his massive body.
‹‹ I did nothing at all! It is you who needs to give me explanations concerning your nostalgic contemplation of Midgard! ›› Loki defends himself disappointed.
‹‹ I have nothing to answer to your assumptions about me! ››
The anger Thor shows towards him is incomprehensible, Loki fails to grasp the real reason of the outburst.
‹‹ Take heed: you're utterly drunk! How dare you approach me in this deplorable condition?! ›› He furiously hisses, defeated by the clear physical superiority of his handsome ex-brother.
‹‹ This hypocrite mouth of yours will be used only to give me pleasure from now on! ›› Thor replies before kissing him arrogantly, pressing his chest briskly on the other's fragile chest, enough to hinder normal breathing.
The violence he claims his kiss with scares Loki, who pounds his fists over his ardent lover's broad shoulders in disapproval, while he shyly supplies contact.
His mate's tongue meets his impetuously, inescapably involving it, anxious to move against it, but their encounter is not kind, and the young betrothed wonders mystified why so much anger.
‹‹ You moron, you're smothering me! ›› He complains with heated cheeks and shortness of breath when Thor breaks off the contact. ‹‹ Why are you so irate? What do you mean by your sharp insinuations? I can't understand you! ››
‹‹ Stop pretending Loki, I know everything! ›› Thor blurts out, knocking his lover against the wall, a brutal action he only stops when he sees Loki grinding his teeth to avoid showing the pain he endures.
‹‹ What is it that you know, Thor? Please enlighten me too! ›› Loki asks for urgent explanations while fixing his eyes angrily upon the Crown Prince.
‹‹ Fandral told me about your pleased courtship in the gardens, in an attempt to bend his mind with your magic! ›› The suffering man reveals, confining Loki's chin to challenge his hostile gaze.
Those eyes are intense enough to communicate his bewilderment, honest incomprehension, then they burst into flames of anger and are reduced to thin slits when he finally gets the meaning of the accusation.
‹‹ I would have tried to… to seduce and enchant him?! ›› Loki repeats in disbelief, barely holding back a laugh of derision. ‹‹ That slick pervert distorted the story! He replaced the victim with the executioner! ››
‹‹ Loki! Enough is enough! Many people can testify to the inexplicable attraction you've shown towards the skillful Asgardian swordsman and the sudden outburst has raised obvious suspicions this afternoon! ›› The Prince continues unconcerned, facing the cold resentment of the alleged deceptive one.
‹‹ Let me guess: were Lady Sif, Hogun and Volstagg among those? ›› Loki heckles him in an altered tone of voice. ‹‹ Come on, it's obvious that they support their comrade! ››
‹‹ You dare throwing accusations even at my most skillful warriors, my most faithful companions?! ›› Thor furiously responds.
‹‹ And you have chosen to believe them, and not your future spouse!? ›› Loki asserts crestfallen, his eyes moistened by the frustrating realization, his teeth piercing his lower lip to push back the tears overpoweringly claiming to be set free.
‹‹ Fandral has found these abandoned amid the shrubbery... ›› His fiancée says embittered, while leaving some rune stones fall to the ground, kept to that point in a small leather bag.
Those were known mystical stones able to greatly amplify the powers of the young Lord of illusions.
‹‹ Admit it, you wanted to rip off his mind and get his services! ›› Thor implies, kicking away the mystical lethal weapons.
Loki burst into a devilish laughter; an irrepressible hysterical reaction to the clever plot of the swordsman, implicitly believed by his Lord as a clear proof of guilt.
‹‹ Very well then, apparently it's pointless to add anything else: you've already determined who said the truth. ›› Loki hisses acidly, while trying to wriggle away from his captor, who promptly reacts.
‹‹ Where do you think you're going? ›› Thor asks, tightening the grip on the prisoner's wrists to placate his every impulsive hostility. ‹‹ You and I are not done yet! ››
Thor's lips mark the delicate skin of his prisoner, tongue lapping greedily at the pale neck, the jaw line, as he mischievously builds both their pleasure with alluring movements.
They awaken strong tremors and unleash intense heat in their groins, breaths become panting, pupils expand and drink in the sight of each other's handsomeness.
Loki's urge to indulge in the sensations is obvious, proven by his deep sighs, eyes tightly closed while Thor's expert hands maneuver their belts accurately and his fingers are impudent in the space beneath the adherent fabric, longing to do away with all obstacles of clothing against his now swollen sex.
‹‹ Leave. Me. Alone! ›› Loki tries to say with a trickle of a voice, uncomfortable about the erotic attentions. ‹‹ Stop, get away from me! ››
But his voice cracks in articulating the order, as he is betrayed by his own lust dominated body that calls out for his hot lover.
‹‹ Are you trying to trick me? I'm here to get me the only thing that a living being without feelings, as you are, can offer me… ›› his fiancée replies with a cocky grin. ‹‹ … Your body... ›› He whispers against Loki's ear, before pulling him up and welcoming him between his strong arms.
‹‹ Put me down right now, you animal! I'm not your bitch! Don't touch me, disgusting creature without intellect! ››
Regardless of the offenses that he's loudly receiving from his companion, Thor goes to the prized antique nightstand, where he forces Loki to sit, abruptly throwing away every object placed above.
The two men are both struggling in defense of their dignity, the constrained lover defending himself, scratching at the cheekbones of his suitor, who yelps in pain and gives him a resounding full face punch.
Fast and handy, the Asgardian takes advantage of Loki's temporary swoon to remove their clothing and ready himself to take him by force, so that the act can begin without delay.
‹‹ You can't do this to me, Thor! It is an outrage I don't deserve! Don't disgrace me, brother... ›› Loki desolately whispers, as he perceives his own slender legs captive in Thor's big hands.
‹‹ You have disgraced me, allowing another man to take your lips! ›› The Prince of Asgard replies, with a broken voice by the immense pain that grips him only imagining his beloved in the arms of another man.
''Why do I feel so bad? What is this inner aching?''
Loki asks himself, averting his gaze from his companion's, unable to handle the growing anxiety that rises rapidly.
Although there is no basis for the accusation, Loki feels an inexplicable twinge while hearing those words, it crosses for a moment through his eyes and he feels like dying.
And it is one distraction that leaves him at the mercy of his tormentor, screaming out his agony when he feels the sudden penetration, brutal and devoid of any concern.
Pain.
Immense, intense.
It's the torture chosen by Thor for Loki.
Violent and callous Thor moves without granting him respite or enjoyment, in a sadistic vengeance.
‹‹ It hurts ... it hurts ... ›› Loki manages to sob faint whispers, acquiescent to a carnal act which hinders any physical or mental pleasure.
‹‹ Believe you me, the pain you have inflicted on me is more excruciating! ›› Thor rumbles while a solitary tear marks his face with an equally hard suffering.
Pain.
Incomparable, unbearable.
Thor's own torture because of Loki.
The allegedly betrayed young man does not give any comfort to his treacherous lover, breaking, albeit reluctantly, a solemn promise he made during the romantic walk to the bridge.
The obscene moans Thor makes accompany Loki's little, painful whimpers, the submissive man's hands are still grasping the edges of the cabinet with such force that the knuckles lose their delicate pearly color in the attempt to resist the harrowing of his cruel tormenter's thrusts.
A promise is broken, another conflict stands.
''I'll never forgive you for what you are doing; you will pay for your offense, Asgardian!''
Loki swears to himself, and awaits defeated for his lover to reach the peak of his pleasure, hoping that it will happen as fast as possible.
‹‹ The passionate kiss, your dreamy eyes on the Bifröst, all cowardly lies! You've betrayed me again! ›› Thor declares disconsolate, accompanying each word with strong thrusts, forcing his lover to hug his neck in order not to hit his head against the wall.
‹‹ I didn't seduce Fandral! Brother, listen to me, this time I didn't lie! ›› Loki wretchedly protests the unfair allusion.
His soft lips brush against the ear of the Asgardian, but it is Thor's heart to understand clearly and believe in him.
Love is the one and only cure to the deep wounds of the soul, the strong pulse seems to suggest.
The brutal punishment ceases and Loki gives himself up to the sweet oblivion of the senses that comes about, his face settles on the cool chest of his lover, who releases him and instinctively does so to diminish the contact.
‹‹ How can I believe you...? ›› Thor whispers, while fondling Loki's locks with all the kindness he can muster.
Trust.
How to feel trust for Loki, Master of Deceit?
Once clothed again, Thor lifts the unconscious young man in his arms as if in keeping a fine and fragile porcelain doll, slowly advances towards the bed, where he delicately lays him down, contemplating his beauty.
Loki, so sultry in his apparent innocence, his body seeming light and diaphanous, lying among the black bed sheets, thick dark hair blending with the silk, darkness granting him an ethereal glamour worthy of a God. A weak moan foretells his awakening, eyes opening slowly.
Contempt.
In those emerald irises the destructive sentiment hits the already tormented heart of his rejected lover.
‹‹ If you as much as touch me again, I swear to you that you'll suffer the pains of hell! ›› Decrees Loki, turning his back at Thor while the latter does not considerate replying at all as he covers Loki's comely nudity with the sheets.
‹‹ There will be a ceremony for our engagement tomorrow. ›› Thor warns.
The other Prince stops breathing.
‹‹ Engagement?! ›› Repeats Loki with a gasp.
‹‹ Exactly. Starting tomorrow we'll be officially engaged, my beloved, whether you wish it or not. ›› Thor says, eyes fixed on the naked back he sees stiffening after the news.
‹‹ I HATE YOU, ASGARDIAN! ›› Loki screams at his fiancée, turned enough so that he can show his anger and outrage, but he can only watch the door closing as the Crown Prince leaves.
Loki hopefully tries to find the rune stones all over the room, but there is no longer any trace of them.
‹‹ Dammit! ›› He swears, embittered.
The future consort is increasingly distant, and he has never felt so alone like in that moment.
Every servant in the great Palace of Odin is engaged, starting from the first hours of dawn, in organizing the sumptuous and solemn event to be held in the evening.
Majestic residence rooms are prepared under Frigga's indications; the wife to the Father of the Gods who gives all her sense of duty and passion for the success of the event.
She takes every single decision about choreographic drapes, tablecloths, choice of food, wine, music selection and guests of honor, a great load of responsibility that she has eagerly accepted.
Frigga knows how important that ceremony is for Thor and how much it is so for the entire realm, the day Odin announces the final alliance of his people with the Frost Giants through the union between the two young Princes, his eldest son Thor and Loki, the son of the late Lord of Jötunheim, the kingdom of eternal glaciers.
The Jötun king's successor, however, will not be able to attend the ceremony, as the damage to the Bifröst separates Asgard from the kingdom of the Ice Giants, but rumors are running, rumors about the possible absence of Odin himself, who seems not to see that bond willingly, as he has simply limited himself to listen to the wishes of the Queen and her son.
And it is the truth.
Thor asked for this bond because he's always been in love with his not-brother and Frigga is constantly worried about his happiness more than anything else, so she is ready to welcome and accept her adoptive son back to reassure Thor's loving heart.
The silk covering the cream-colored gown with long laces seems to fly as the Lady graceful moves about the halls, where the lights of day enhance the granite floors and columns, revealing their entire splendor.
With an authoritarian voice she expresses her opinion whenever an employee to the organization reaches for her to ask some question, and she patiently insures her every wish to be fulfilled, while continuing her majestic crossing and heading towards the Royal rooms.
The journey continues along to the luxurious rooms given to Prince Loki, until she firmly opens the door of the chamber where he sits in the company of his servants.
And here he is, she recognizes his turned back, surrounded by servants preparing him for the solemn event, and although he is not yet ready, it's already a lovely image.
The precious black silky veils gracefully fall about his waist, the emerald satin long robe is snug on the hips, but it is delicate at the hem where silver handmade ornaments add elegance to the fabric.
To Frigga, the encounter is a mixture of joy and agony.
‹‹ Loki... ›› She greets him in a loving tone, filling her eyes of the wispy figure that stands out among women like it was the most delicate and defenseless creature in the room.
Her entry without any announcement catches the attention of those present, unleashes amazed and intimidated shouts, her austere presence disturbs even the young man she decided to pay a visit to, who instead turns a lost and questioning look at her.
Frigga counters that look watching the expression of his face softening, the tension of the moment fading in meeting the son who she feared to lose and her affection for him returns to warm her soul.
‹‹ Mother! ›› Loki says simply, with an instinctive smile, as his heart seems to jump out his chest in recognizing the familiar figure of the Queen.
‹‹ Mother, mother mine! ›› He breathlessly continues to call her, while he rudely gets rid of the women around him and meets her face to face, possessed by the desire to clutch her to his chest, a desire fulfilled just as the distance between them permits.
The two embrace elatedly, coddling, crying deeply moved, glad to have found each other again.
‹‹ Oh, mother, please help me! ›› Loki's supplication sounds like a litany. ‹‹ Free me from this prison, free me from Thor! ››
Frigga tenderly strokes his hair; his intense plea reminding her of a child asking for the help of his mother when confronting issues bigger than himself.
But she is not only a mother, she is also a Queen.
‹‹ My son, do not think of Thor as your jailor, but as your savior. ›› She resumes sweetly wiping away his tears. ‹‹ Thanks to him are you alive and to him you owe your return to the Palace with all the honors. ››
Those words make the Prince's heart become as cold as ice; he - baffled and disgusted - looks at the woman who's now seemingly undeserving of his honest affection.
Loki stops his weeping, and listens to her.
‹‹ Thor really loves you with all his heart. ›› Frigga goes on, dealing courageously with that hateful stare. ‹‹ He has challenged the will of Odin to save you and restore your title. What you should do is show gratitude and abandon all hostility. ››
‹‹ So father does not want me here, at the Palace. ›› He manages to say, being surprised himself with the natural indifference he utters that statement.
The embrace ends, and along with it, the son of Laufey turns off any affection he once felt for his foster parents.
‹‹ Loki, my son, you should be honoring he who loves you so immensely to forgive your treason. ›› The Queen urges, austere in tone, after the separation imposed by the cold hand of the young Lord of Illusions.
‹‹ I understand. ›› He announces flatly. ‹‹ But go now, mother! It's right that I present my respects to my new Lord and I will ready myself for the event as I should have already done. ››
Without too much respect, Loki prepares to go back among his servants, but the hand of the Queen stops him suddenly.
‹‹ Thor wants you at his side! ›› The consort of Odin replies. ‹‹ Don't you understand? Of all the Asgardians he chose you as his equal partner. He entrusts you with his future children! ››
Frigga's words unleash a shiver down his spine, but he is able to conceal his inner turmoil.
‹‹ I don't exactly understand what you expect me to do… ›› He replies still mislead, upset and frightened by the unexpected revelation.
‹‹ You know what he's asking for as well as you know you can fulfill such a miracle. You are special, my son! ›› Frigga says. ‹‹ Thanks to your mystic nature you are able to create life, like only a woman can do. ›› She finally declares, leaving the Prince's hand.
‹‹ You seem to expect from me too great a sacrifice! An unbearable humiliation that would complete his domination over me! ›› Loki blurts out loudly, forcefully tightening his fists.
‹‹ It is not a shame, but an honor, an elevation of your status! From your womb will emerge the future heir of Asgard, thou shall be the instrument of fate for this Kingdom! ›› The wise Queen explains, while her adopted son disappears amongst the servants, in order to vanish from her sight.
Endless moments of stubborn silence follow, broken only by the rustle of the ceremonial robes arranged by the maids, who instantly resume their task.
‹‹ As you wish! ›› Loki's calm voice suddenly articulates.
The Queen lowers her head, in a tacit nod of respect and gratitude.
‹‹ Now go! Time flows and there are still many preparations to be finished. ››
The resignation in his voice reassures Frigga, who leaves through the humble bows of the maids, as she distractedly opens the door to her passage, lost in the torment of her maternal thoughts.
Deception or truth?
The Queen chooses to believe her son.
The older maid, perceiving the distraction of the First Lady of Asgard, goes far toward the door, as to close it.
Her fingers graze the golden knob, but as if she were prevented to act, they can't grip.
And then, coming back to sneak up in her mind, there is a bewitching voice amongst her simple thoughts.
"Your Lord orders you to recover the runes from Thor's rooms. Look for them and bring them to me as soon as possible, at any cost."
And she performs.
She abandons the room surrounded by the mute bewilderment of the other servants, who call at the Prince with their gazes, who is not resentful at all about her sudden leaving.
The powerful and evil Lord of Mischief smiles: his personal arrangements have begun.
Thanks, my angels.
-Translation by:
Alessandra Zago
-Edit by
Sigynthefaithful
Miss Moriarty