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Title: Face the Shadows
Author:Noelwing
Email: noelwing
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of the Marvel universe.
Summary: When the nephew of elf royalty is kidnapped by Malekith, Frey goes to Asgard for help. For Loki, the incident ignites long buried memories of the pain and anguish he suffered at the hands of the Dark Elf. Will Thor be able to help Loki confront his painful experiences and save the kidnapped elf child?
Warnings: Rated M for sexual content-Loki/Thor. This story contains rape, torture and Mpreg
Author's note's: I have tried to edit this story but I apologize for any errors I might have missed. Also, it's going to get pretty angsty from here for a while. I never intended for it to get this way but I find that it is better to put things down as they come, in the way that they rather than to waste time censoring them. As always, any questions, comments or reviews are welcome. I would like to thank all the people who have been keeping up with this story.
Chapter 10: Darkening Tactics
Loki stopped thinking of what he was going through as a nightmare. A nightmare was something one eventually escaped from by waking. Loki would wake only to find himself in that same horrible place.
He did not know how many days had gone by. He did not know whether it was day or night. The men, who were merely faceless minions to him, would drag him from the cell and take him to that horrible chamber where they did their work.
Malekith would often come before the torture began. He would ask Loki if he was ready to forsake his life and begin anew as his apprentice.
"It is all in your hands to make this stop Loki." The dark elf would tell him. "You need only make the right decision."
Always those words incited bitter laughter from the captive prince. "The 'right decision' as in betraying my family." He would say defiantly.
Loki knew he was doing himself no favors by making the dark elf angry with him. Aside from the hope of rescue, irritating Malekith was something that kept Loki's spirits up. And Loki still believed his father would come for him. Ironically, it was that faith in his father that cost him so.
"Very well, see how your devotion to you father rewards you." Malekith would say before making his exit and leaving Loki in the hands his tormentors for the day.
The men would strip him of his shirt and secure his wrists in the shackles that dangled from ceiling. And the torture would begin.
That was the routine.
Flogging seemed to be the method of choice. One man or another would take his turn in bestowing lash after lash upon Loki's back. Loki would try as hard as he could for as long as he could not to scream. His tormentors seemed to know that and would actually take wagers on who would be the one to make Loki scream first. Such delight they took in making games of his pain.
Loki was positive they were mortals. It was not uncommon practice for those of the realms to employ mortals of Midgard to do their dirty work. It was common knowledge that, if well compensated (usually with treasures or other material items) mortals were willing to follow anyone or do just about anything.
One man, who Loki identified as Graybeard, was particularly brutal and Loki came to fear him more than any of the others. He was slightly older than his cohorts. His face was wrinkled with menacing gray eyes and a gray beard: hence Loki's name for him. He was just as brutal in handling Loki as the others but what made him stand out was the way he looked at Loki.
Sometimes, during their breaks from the torture sessions, Loki would notice Graybeard leering at him. Loki would turn his head away or shut his eyes to that man but that did little to nothing to ease him. Loki could always feel when that man was looking at him. It made his skin crawl.
Eventually, the torture sessions would come to an end and Loki, often too spent to walk on his own, would be dragged by his arms back to his cell.
"You're going to die here you know," One of his tormentors would say sometimes. "Why keep hoping for people who don't give a damn about you?"
Loki would then be tossed into his cell, landing hard on the dirt floor. Their words would echo in his mind long after they were gone. It frightened him to think that he might die in this, at the hands of these people. To die never seeing his family again, not being able to say goodbye was the worst fate he believed he could suffer.
Loki did not believe death would be his fate, not if Malekith had anything to do with it. The torment he had been through thus far had taxed his body greatly. Furthermore, he was not fed or watered on any regular basis either.
Such treatment would take its toll on even the heartiest of Gods and Loki was still a child. It was the curse Malekith had put on him. It was some kind of dark magic that sustained his body beyond what was naturally possible.
Loki feared that if rescue did not come soon, he might go insane from the torture. The possibility that rescue may not even come at all was beginning to take hold.
Loki awoke to the sound of the doors to his cell being slammed open. The men, Graybeard being one of them, entered grabbed him and so on and so fourth.
Instead of being shackled from the cave ceiling, Loki was placed in a chair with his wrists tied to the arms and his ankles tied to the legs. The chair was made of crude wood, definitely designed to cause great discomfort. The ropes were of rough woven twine that threatened to tear the skin if he moved too much.
Loki could not help but to squirm for his back was covered with lashes from previous torture sessions. The ropes held him flush against the back of the chair causing his already injured skin to burn painfully.
Malekith was there and only watched while the men carried out their work. When finished, one of the men brought a chair for his master and Malekith sat down in front of Loki. That man then took his leave while Graybeard remained.
Loki could feel himself begin to sweat under the elf's malicious gaze. This was the first time Malekith had been this close to him physically in a while. It made Loki feel incredibly vulnerable.
"Tell me, are you still waiting for your father to come and rescue you?" Malekith asked casually.
Loki kept silent for he would not indulge Malekith. His stubbornness cost him. Malekith dealt Loki a vicious backhand to his face. The strike came so fast and hard that Loki could not suppress the yelp that followed the blow.
The youth was stunned and sat gasping in the chair. When Malekith raised his hand a second time, Loki flinched and braced for another strike.
"I asked you a question."
"I…I am." Loki could not control the tremble in his voice. He was frightened and he knew that Malekith could see it. So there was no use in trying to put on a brave face and Loki hated himself for it.
"Then it will grieve you than to learn that Odin is no longer in Alfheim. He has gone back to Asgard."
Loki gasped. "No, it can't be true." The elf was lying, he had to be. Loki could not believe that his father would just abandon him.
"He'll come back for me." Loki spoke with all the defiance he could muster.
"Odin will not come back for you." Malekith said with cold finality.
Malekith nodded and Graybeard, who had been standing behind Loki quietly, came forward. He carried with him and iron rod; its pointed tip burning brightly like the color of molten lava.
Loki's green eyes widened, his mouth opened only to emit the tiniest yelp. His eyes went to the red hot poker to Malekith and back again.
"Your family has forgotten you. No one is coming for you." Malekith waved his hand, an indication for the man to proceed.
Loki could do nothing to suppress the sob that escaped him. The man approached him with sickening slowness and Loki could not look away from the hot poker he held in his gloved hand.
Five steps, three steps; the man was right in front of him. Loki shut his eyes and turned his face away. The poker descended and pressed against Loki's right thigh.
Loki could hear a terrible, ear ripping shriek all around him. It was a sound as alien as it was terrifying to him. What could possibly make such a sound? He realized with detached horror that the sound was coming from him.
The shrieking was quickly followed by the sickening smell of charred fabric and burning flesh. Loki felt like he had stepped outside of his body and he could see himself tied to a chair while the red-hot poker was continually pressed to him.
His head lolled over the top of the chair, his mouth open wide and screaming. It was too painful to count how many times he was branded. His world shrank to a place where there was only pain.
"Enough!" Malekith announced. The man stepped away and returned the poker to the pit of hot, burning coals.
Loki was sobbing. He wished dearly that he could just slip into unconsciousness and escape all of this. The curse was at work. Loki could feel its energy tingling in him, keeping him awake.
Malekith had remained in the chair the whole time. This was the first session in a while that Malekith had actually stayed while Loki was tortured.
"How much more are you willing to endure for someone who does not truly love you?"
Loki only moaned in agony. He was sick from the dark elf's words.
"If Odin loves you as much as you believe he does, than why has he abandoned you knowing how weak and vulnerable you are?"
"What are you talking about," Loki managed to get out. His voice sounded cracked and weak.
"Oh, I believe you know. You have been aware of it since you were very young. You love your father, mother and brother very much. Yet, your parents do not love you the same way they do your brother, do they?"
Loki flinched. Deep down, he did indeed feel different. Listening to Malekith express knowledge of that feeling made Loki feel all the more exposed.
Malekith continued on. "You may have a strong intellect, impressive for your age even. But you are seldom seen for that intellect. No, all anyone sees when they look at you is a confounding mystery.
"Thor is still young but garners such notoriety for his strength and character. You, on the other hand, are dark, pale and meager."
Loki's finger nails began to dig into the wood of the chair. How could Malekith possibly know all of this? It was true, at times Loki felt as though he was eclipsed by his extroverted older brother.
Everything seemed to come so easily for Thor; friends, respect and especially the love and attention of their father. In the bottom of Loki's heart, he did indeed feel jealous of Thor.
"I'll wager that you are especially envious of Thor right now. If you were as strong as him then maybe you would be able to fight your way out this."
"Stop it!" Loki groaned. He did not want to hear anymore.
Malekith grinned maliciously. "Such a shame you are. No proud family of Asgard would want such a weak person in their family."
"Quiet!" Loki yelled.
"Odin only stayed for as long as he had to, for appearances sake. It has been long enough now for him to be justified in giving you up for dead.
"It is the perfect opportunity to be rid of you. You, who has shamed him so much with your weakness."
"SHUT-UP!" Loki shouted before spiting in the dark elf's arrogant face.
Malekith jumped back and wiped the spit from his face. He was as disgusted as he was surprised.
"You're one to talk. You're so evil and twisted your own race, the most disgusting of them all, rejected you." Loki spat every word with as much venom as possible.
Retribution was swift. Malekith reached out with his slender fingers, grasped one of Loki's burned thighs and squeezed. Loki screamed and struggled, uselessly, against the pain. The ropes holding him sawed into his skin and began to turn red from blood.
"You bring this on yourself Loki." He gave one last squeeze before releasing him. He then dealt several blows to Loki's face. The youth's head snapped from left to right as each side was mercilessly pummeled.
When Malekith was done, he was out of breath and sweating. Loki's face was numb and his nose bloodied. His left eye in particular felt incredibly painful and Loki could barley see out of it. He was sure it would swell shut very soon.
"I promise you one thing Loki; no matter how much or for how long you resist me, you will never see Asgard ever again."
Malekith commanded Graybeard to take Loki back to his cell before storming out of the chamber. Loki was in pain and felt sick to his stomach. His words had cost him dearly. However, he did manage to get a shot off the dark elf with his words. He took pride in it.
Graybeard cut Loki's ropes and hoisted him out of the chair. The middle aged man half dragged, half carried Loki the whole way back to his cell. Loki hated being so close to Graybeard given how the man made feel. But as he could not walk, he was just going to have to endure.
When they reached his cell, Loki expected the man to toss him inside. He braced for just as much. That was not what happened. The man carried Loki inside and continued hold onto to him.
Loki began to tremble when the man pulled him so that his back was flush against his chest. The pressure from the man's squeeze enflamed the lashes that still marred Loki's back
The man suddenly jerked Loki to the right, causing his head to snap in that direction. The man cradled his face in the space of the left side of Loki's neck and shoulder and inhaled deeply.
A wave of nausea washed over Loki. Already he could feel the bile rising in his throat. Just what was this sick man trying to do to him?
Graybeard opened his mouth and ran his tongue along the length of Loki's neck. At the same time, one of his hands plunged down in between Loki's legs and squeezed.
Loki cried out and clawed at the man's arms. Graybeard let go immediately and Loki fell to the ground. Using the last bit of adrenaline, Loki crawled away from the man and huddled against the wall of his cell.
Graybeard looked at him with predatory eyes and chuckled. Thankfully, that was all he did before exiting the cell and slamming the door shut.
Loki rubbed is hands all over himself, trying to scrub off the man's filthy touch. He could not stop himself from shaking.
Malekith had said that Odin had gone back to Asgard. Loki did not want to think it but it was possible that his father had to return to attend his duties as a king. However, that did not mean his father would not still be looking for him.
The thought of his father not being in the same realm anymore made Loki feel lonelier than ever. Today had been the worst yet. Malekith was upping his game and Loki feared what else the dark elf had in store for him.
Loki eventually made his way over to a pile of rocks in his cell. In that pile, he had a flask of water and a few scraps of food he had been saving. He pulled out the flask of water took a sip and then sprinkled a few drops onto the burns on his legs.
His burned flesh protested angrily. Loki had to bite down on his sleeve to keep from crying out completely. The pain soon died down and Loki was able to think about other things.
He began to think that perhaps it was time that he try and find a way to get out on his own.
TBC: Please review J