A dream, which was not all a dream

Loki woke to the low murmur of voices somewhere above him, which became slowly more distinct as his mind cleared. He caught the words 'compulsion' and 'caution', spoken with a subtle tension, and frowned. He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling above him. It was layered with rectangular, painted tiles, which showed small pictures of angels and mystic creatures drawn in flawless detail. Between them, a blue snake was moving back and forth, circling around the room and moving between its unmoving companions like a streak of water flowing around obstacles. It suddenly dashed forward and curled into a circle above him. 'He is awake.'

Someone came closer, and suddenly Potter was staring down at him with a blank intensity. Draco joined him, fretfully. The blond knelt down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. 'How are you?'

'I'm not under any compulsion,' Loki said, 'except for the one that is part of the enslavement spell, the same one that affects all of you.'

Draco froze, his hand suddenly clutching his shoulder painfully. 'What?'

'Certainly you are aware that there is a component of the enslavement spell that encourages submission,' Loki said, feeling some glee about it, since they obviously had not known. 'It is nothing artificial, though, it merely encourages tendencies that are already there. I thought you would welcome it, since it makes things here go much more smoothly.'

'I felt some resentment for my own feelings before the spell,' Draco said thoughtfully. 'It would also explain why my father accepted this so easily.'

Loki sat up. He had lain on the cushion Draco had brought him to earlier, and he now felt a subdued anger that had then been overwhelmed by his other feelings. 'I did not really mean what I said before, just so you know,' he said. 'I'm not particularly fond of the idea of becoming a pet; I'm not very submissive in general, actually. Some rare moments being the exception.' Thoughts of his children had always made him more pliant, something Angrboda, Svaldilfari and Sigyn had all noticed and used. He hadn't minded it then, not until later. These moments of weakness had doomed his children, and he had tried to erase this part of himself. He had not succeeded. It had been rash, perhaps, to try so hard to be something he was not.

'Is there a way to remove this compulsion?' Potter asked.

'I could do it easily, but I would not recommend that. It does not force anyone to do anything they don't want, it just makes it easier to give in. Considering that I would normally be very tempted to tear your heart out, an attempt of which would turn out to be immensely painful for me, I welcome it. I imagine there are a number of Death Eaters in your collection who feel the same way.' Loki smirked.

Potter frowned unhappily. 'I promised to do my best to give them their lives back.'

Loki shrugged. He did not care about the human's foolishness. He could see the lines of worry in Potter's face, the true compassion for people who had wronged him. If Loki had been in his place, he would have relished in their humiliation. There were those who thought that this was Potter's motive for claiming the Death Eaters. Loki knew better. It was his righteousness that would not let him accept injustice. He stretched on the cushion like a big cat, then spread his legs and drew Draco into his lap. 'So ask them.'

'I don't want to feel that resentment again,' said Draco. 'I felt it because I was raised to believe that what I crave is wrong. I was happy when I was finally at peace with myself. I always thought it was because you really claimed me, but if the spell was part of it I don't mind.' He put a hand on Potter's knee and smiled. 'Please believe me, Master. I don't want to be at war with myself. I love what I have become, what we have become.'

Potter hesitated for a moment, and put his hand on Draco's. 'What about the others?'

Draco kissed his fingers. 'There were those that choose prison. That wouldn't have happened if the spell compelled us into mindless servitude. I believe those that chose to serve you will feel like I do. Loki is right, Harry. They are more content and safer this way. Would you truly want them to resent this situation for the rest of their lives?'

Loki saw Potter wavering, and had to admire the power the blond wielded over his master. He was quick with words, and more than willing to use Potter's feelings for him to his advantage. He would enjoy his company. In times of old, he thought, men like Draco and his father might have worshipped him. He would have been fond of such devotees.

In the end, Potter nodded, even if it was reluctantly. Another tiny bit of corruption taking seed, Loki thought, trailing his hands over Draco's chest. He could feel the blond's breath quicken and smirked. Potter, too, was distracted by his actions. Could he take Draco's place if he tried? Did he want to try? Potter clearly enjoyed his position of power, and while Loki could play a willing slave to achieve what he wanted, he would never enjoy it like Draco did. Perhaps it would be prudent to wait.

'I was under the impression that you did not want to provide sexual favors,' Potter said, watching his ministrations with, to Loki's amusement, a hint of jealousy.

'I was under the impression that you were not planning to give me a choice,' Loki mocked, kissing Draco's neck.

'That is not true…' Draco said breathlessly. 'I told you yesterday…' He arched towards Loki when his fingers found a particular sensitive spot under his ribcage.

Potter narrowed his eyes. 'I said what I said because I thought that you were merely obstinate. You told me earlier that you were willing to serve me in any way I wished. However, Draco told me that you were genuinely opposed to this kind of service. I would not force you.'

Loki wondered briefly what Draco had told him. He had panicked earlier, mostly because he had not expected it. 'It is a kind of degradation I was not prepared for,' he said contemplatively. 'You surprised me.' There was more to it, of course. He had traded himself before. He had usually enjoyed it. However, that had been before he had known what he really was. It had been before he had been trapped, before Vali's and Narfi's deaths, before Jotunheimr, before the void. He shivered, and Draco sensed it and took his hand, weaving his fingers between his. Loki looked straight at Potter. 'I want the children you can give me.'

Potter blinked, then frowned, studying him with a deep interest that made Loki uncomfortable. 'Can you work that spell without sexual contact?'

Loki started to shake his head, flinched, and pressed his lips together. 'Yes, but I don't want that. It is a different kind of magic. The spell I would prefer requires both of you to fuck me.' He had thought the crudeness would make it easier to say, but it left him trembling.

'You are afraid,' Draco said, turning around to him. 'You want to do this although you are terrified.'

'I'm not afraid!' Loki said angrily. Pain laced through him and he fell back into the cushion and screamed.

Potter was next to him in a heartbeat, taking his head into his lap. 'You should not lie to me,' he said, his voice full of concern.

Loki chuckled bitterly. 'A long time ago, dwarfs sewed my mouth shut claiming I am incapable of telling anything but lies.' He thought how that in a way had been more merciful than forcing him to always tell the truth.

Potter's hands tightened on his shoulders. 'Tell me about that,' he said, rubbing slow circles on Loki's shoulders.

Loki hesitated for a moment, then he started to tell the story how he had made a wager with the dwarfs of Nidavellir for the treasures of the gods, a wager he had lost without truly losing.

'The Aesir did nothing to defend you?' asked Draco, trailing his hand over Loki's arm.

Loki laughed. 'I lost the wager! They caught me when I tried to flee and gave me to Brokk. He would have cut off my head if I had not argued him out of it. They thought I got off lightly, and they made jokes about it for years.' He could not help the bitterness that crept into his voice. They had taken the treasures he had won them all too readily. He had asked Thor once why he had handed him to Brokk, and he had answered in that glib way of his that he had never doubted that Loki would talk himself out of it, and he had, so what was the problem? He had always been proud of having been able to trick the dwarfs, and for a long time he had not thought about everything else that happened, not until Odin showed up to save Thor on Jotunheimr.

He had never truly resented Thor for capturing him and handing him to the dwarf, but then Odin had not thought twice to bend the rules to save his own son. Many things that had happened appeared in a different light once he had realized that not everything in Asgard was measured with the same set of scales.

Draco trailed his fingers over Loki's lips. 'How did you eat?' He sounded both fascinated and horrified, and Loki could feel his fingers probing for scars that were not there.

'Magic,' he said, licking Draco's finger. 'I also learned to perfect illusions to talk through them. As a matter of fact, I mastered those days after it happened, and the Aesir never realized how long it took me to get rid of the thread.' The only one who had known had been Frigga, who had felt his magic, and had helped him search for a solution. In retrospect, Odin had probably known, too, but he had never said anything. Nearly two years, that was how long it had taken him to beat Brokk's magic. He had avoided the Aesir during that time, and had travelled a lot under the pretense of study. They had never questioned it, on the contrary. Thor had once told him that he had been happy that he had been gone, because Sif had still been angry because of her hair, and it would have been difficult if he had stayed. Loki snorted. He had never gotten along with Thor's friends. The idea that Sif's hair was the root of their conflict was typically Thor. Of course Thor had been right in that they had hated him even more because of it, and Thor's childish attempt to force them to get along would have failed even more spectacularly than usual if he had been around directly after the incident. Aside from that, however, he had learned a lot during his travels, not only about dwarf magic, but many other secrets of the realms. In a way, the dwarf had done him a favor. He had been miserable in the first weeks after it happened, but without it he would have never started to pursue his own interests outside of what benefitted the Allfather. Before that incident, he had always been Thor's sidekick, just one more in his merry band of friends, but after he came back from his self-imposed exile he had stopped spending all his time with him and his friends. He had started to research magics Frigga could not teach him.

'You were so daring, so strong…' said Potter. 'What has made you afraid of touch?'

Loki stiffened. 'I'm not afraid of touch,' he croaked. 'I'm afraid of being helpless. Of being… at the mercy of others.'

Potter's arms tightened around him while Draco cuddled closer to him. 'Then it was very brave of you to make this deal with me.'

'I chose you because I trusted you not to exploit it,' Loki said stiffly.

'I understand,' said Potter, kissing the top of his head. 'You can trust me.' He pulled him up. 'Come.'

They led him into an opulent bedroom, which was dominated by a huge four poster. On both sides of the room were doors that likely led to walk-in closets. Potter pulled him down onto the bed and Draco followed. Loki lay down stiffly, but Potter merely spelled his clothing into pajamas, and lay down next to him. Draco curled against him and smiled. 'You will be safe with us,' he said. 'Sleep.'

.

Loki struggled against the chains. He was kneeling on a stone floor, but that was all he knew. A hood wrapped tightly around his head, silencing him and blinding and deafening him at the same time. His arms were tied to his back, and the chains wrapping around his legs tightened with his every move and kept his knees spread apart. Further chains curled around his neck and choked him when he tried to rise. He did not know how long he had been in this place. His sons had tried to defend him after Baldur's death, but no-one had believed them when they told them that he was innocent. They had tried to protect him… The last thing he remembered was that Sigyn had fled.

Suddenly, something touched him, and he flinched back. A knife cut away his armor, and he heard the muffled sounds of laughter and shouts he could not understand or identify. He struggled, but the chains only cut deeper into his skin and he could not breathe. A liquid was dumped over him, and he felt it run over his naked skin and pool under him. It smelt sweet and metallic, somehow familiar. The laughter increased, and then retreated. He sagged against his chains, exhausted and humiliated.

After some time, there was a scratching sound and something blew hot air against his neck. He felt fur pushing against him, and something licked at his skin, closer and closer, then nipped and bit down. He screamed.

'Shush, it's a dream.' Arms wrapped around him and for a few, delirious moments he struggled madly until they released him. 'You were dreaming,' the voice said, and he finally recognized Draco's voice. 'It was a just a nightmare.'

'No,' he whispered, curling into a ball. 'No, it wasn't.'

He remembered it as if it were yesterday. The guards had dumped goat blood on him, hoping that Vali, trapped in his wolf form and starved, would devour him. He almost had, if not for Narfi, who had escaped his own prison and had tried to fight the wolf. When they had removed his hood, he had looked at two children lying dead in front of him, one killed by his brother, one who had killed himself in grief. A week later, Sigyn had returned with proof that it had been Amora who had cursed Hodur's arrow.

Looking back, that was probably the day the last part of him that had truly loved Odin had died. He knew that his father had let it happen, not because he was convinced that Loki had killed Baldur, but because he was afraid of his children. Back then, he had not known why. Odin had never told him about the prophecy, he had found out when he had become acting king of Asgard. The guards who had let Vali roam free had been punished for negligence. When he had demanded their execution, he had been reminded that his boys had defied Odin's orders and had been imprisoned for treason. Sigyn had left him shortly after; she had been unable to understand why he would accept such a verdict.

He had felt that he could not go against his father, that there must be something wrong with him, because all the other Aesir had told him that the Allfather's decision was just and should not be questioned. Deep down, however, he had known that Odin was wrong, and it had influenced his actions ever since.

'Tell us,' Potter whispered in his ear.

Loki closed his eyes. It occurred to him that he had never told anyone his side of the story, that no one had ever asked. Thor had never tried to defend his nephews, although he had been saddened by their loss. He had treated their deaths like accidents, and Loki had never expected him to listen.

Two pairs of eyes were watching him, both concerned in their own way. They complemented each other, he thought. Potter's calm strength drew on Draco's compassion, and Draco's openness relied on Potter's steady support. They made each other what they were. He could see what Draco could have been, if he had denied that part of himself. Less than what he was. It made him wonder if he himself had also become less through his loneliness, which had turned into a conviction that he needed no-one.

He had been different once, more than this bitter, vengeful person he had become. The irony was that he had never wanted power when he was younger; not the power to rule openly. One thing he had never been envious of was Thor's right to the throne. He had been confident that he would influence the fate of the realm as an advisor, behind the scenes. Frigga had encouraged that belief. That had been the main reason why it had frustrated him that Thor never listened to him. It should not have been necessary to resort to trickery to get Thor to follow his advice. Thor should have heeded his advice because Loki was the one who would have been his right hand when he became king. Instead, Thor had been banished and Loki had become king, and he had tried so hard to be what he had always thought Thor should be. He had deluded himself into thinking that he could be a better king than Thor and Odin combined, that he could erase his monstrous origin by being a better Aesir than the both of them. All of his actions afterwards seemed like an attempt to prove that this had not been a spectacular mistake, as if he was unable to stop once he had begun. He had tried to erase his mistakes with even more mistakes, until it was blatantly obvious that he would always fail. It had never been his destiny to become king of Asgard, and he should have known that from the very beginning. He was the god of chaos, after all, and chaos could not rule a kingdom without courting disaster.

He looked at the two men who waited patiently for his answer and wondered if he could become more of himself in this place, or if it would extinguish the last of what he could have been and remake him in something totally other. The thought scared him, but the only choice he had was to move forward. He had spent the last years running from his past and it had led him nowhere. Maybe it was time to face it, and see what change it would bring.

'Odin and Frigga had another son,' he began. 'His name was Baldur, and he was murdered with a cursed arrow.'