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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 notes: I would like to apologize for the long delay in getting this latest chapter posted. At the same time, I would like to thank everyone who has hung in there with me. My goal was to have this story finished before the release of the second Thor film. My reason for being was that I did not want the cinematic Malekith to have any influence on the portrayal of him in this fic. The Malekith in this story is more inspired by depictions of him from the Avengers animated series (AKA Earth's Mightiest Heroes) and those of the original 60's era comics. That is why the physical description I have of him does not match that of the one seen on screen. Also, the story of the Trickster and Giant is indeed loosely based on an actual Norse myth that does star Loki as the protagonist. As always, I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors I might have missed.

Chapter 12: The Trickster's Lesson

If anyone were to look upon Loki now, they would see not but a sad, limp husk: a shell of person. They would never guess that the person lying in the dirt, naked, bloodied and bruised was once a prince; a son of the king of all the realms.

Loki's wrists ached with newly opened wounds. Two men had come for him earlier and taken him from his cell where in they kept him to a room were they did their work.

Loki offered no struggle as he was laid down on a rickety bed. When one of the men tied his wrists to the headboard, he tossed his head from side to side and moaned pitifully.

Loki had long lost the will to fight. Even if he still had it, he would not much be able to fight. His body was so starved of nourishment that even the slightest effort taxed him greatly.

He was reduced to having no choice but to endure his tormentors having their way with him. And have their way they did. It did not end when they finished either. Loki's old nemesis, Graybeard, entered the room. "Alright you two, if you're finished with the whore you can get back to your duties."

The two men, newly instructed to leave, finished dressing and bandied a few words with Graybeard before leaving. Loki shut his eyes and turned his face away. He could feel Graybeard leering at him.

He still had it in him to hope that Graybeard would leave with those men and not touch him. When he felt the bed creek and the mattress dip, he knew it was hope wasted.

At least Graybeard had been quick this time and cut Loki's wrists free before leaving. Not wanting to be in that bed, Loki dragged himself out and to the ground.

It was over, for now.

The only place where Loki found sanctuary was in his mind. His thoughts could take him anywhere he liked. He thought about his time at the academy, the acquaintances and friends he had made there and what he was learning.

It felt so long ago, like a dream that fades shortly after waking. Had he ever really been there? Had it been real? Had he been broken to the point of where he no longer could remember that there was a time where he knew joy and love; a time before he was cast into the veritable Hell he was now in.

Why? Why did he have to be so curious? Why did he follow that stupid, green orb out of his room and ultimately into Malekith's trap?

If he had just ignored that orb and kept reading that book, than maybe he would be safe.

That book he was reading, the collection of short stories his mother had packed for him. Which story had he been reading?

It had been the story of the Trickster and the Giant, he thought with solemn recall.

That had been his favorite story for many years. He could still remember the time when the story had first been read to him.

Loki was seven years old and it was a terrible, stormy night in Asgard. Thor, of course, was able to sleep on through it. Loki however, was not handling it so well. He tried to wake Thor but failed. Wanting for company, Loki thought to go to his parent's private chambers.

Being out of bed at this hour was not well looked upon and Loki knew if he were to be found he would be sent straight back to his room. His mother would not approve but Loki believed she would sympathize with him and grant him the comfort he was seeking.

He knew his mother, from time to time, would stay up late working on weaving or embroidery. Perhaps tonight would be one of those nights. Hopefully he would find her before someone else found him.

The family chambers were connected by private hallways which Loki made his way through. He found his way to his mother's work room only to find it empty. His heart sank; his mother must already be in bed.

Feeling discouraged and still not willing to return to the room he shared with Thor, Loki thought to go into the study. He thought for sure that the study would be empty. Perhaps some late night reading would ease him.

He made his way to the study. It was a large room with a circular floor plan. The book shelves were alcoves embedded in each wall that went around the entire circumference of the room. In the center of the room was a massive fire pit where flames still burned. Surrounding the fire pit were four plush sofas with night stands in between each one.

Loki knew this room very well. It was where he and Thor were schooled in academics by one of their various tutors. Needless to say that this room was more dear to Loki than Thor. Loki went to the book shelves that were to his left.

On the lower shelves were books that contained stories that would be more to a child's liking. Loki's delicate fingers probed the spines of the books, reading their titles and looking for one that caught his interest.

His fingers came to rest on a book with the title 'The Trickster and Other Tales'. Loki was not even sure if had even seen this book before. The title seemed intriguing enough. So he pulled the book fourth and turned around to the sitting area.

It was only then that he realized that he was not alone. Sitting on one of the sofas was none other than Odin, his father.

Loki froze for a second, unsure if his father was aware of his presence. When Loki believed that he remained unnoticed, he crept closer until he was able to peer around the sofa and see his father fully.

Odin was dressed in his night robes with a blanket folded over his lap. In his hands was a very large tome, of some kind. What ever was on those pages, Odin appeared to be very engrossed in them.

Loki knew he should probably leave before he was detected but he had never really seen his father so casual, so unawares. Loki just wanted to stay and observe. Loki was only a boy but he grasped something in that moment that he never before realized.

This man was his father but it was only in a situation like this that he saw Odin as a man. Normally, Loki only saw Odin as his king, someone he so readily obeyed and respected. It was that same regard that perhaps, Loki spent too much energy upon.

He was indeed so eager to please Odin that he would actually forget that he was his father. This was someone Loki loved very much yet he had never been able to see his father as someone he could stand on even ground with. Not before this moment anyway. He found that he liked being able to see Odin just as a man; just as his father.

So when Odin became aware that he was being watched, Loki did not feel any fear of possible reprimand for being out of bed when he was not supposed to. He had been afraid of the storm and it was alright to tell his father that.

Odin turned his gaze to see his youngest son standing near by. "Loki, what are you doing out of bed at this hour? Is something the matter?"

Loki answered that the storm had awakened him and that he had been unable to go back to sleep. "I came to see if perhaps mother might yet be awake but she was not at her loom weaving." He sighed and rested his chin upon the book that he had forgotten he was holding.

"What is that you have there?" Odin asked, pointing to the book in Loki's hands.

"Oh, it is a collection of folktales," Loki said. "I thought maybe if I read for a little bit that it would make me sleepy. I picked this one because it is one I have not read from before."

Odin's only eye sparkled in the light of the pulsing fire. "Would you like me to read it to you?" Odin patted the spot on the sofa next to him. "Come and sit with me for a while."

Loki bounded like a deer over to the spot his father indicated. Once Loki was settled, Odin had Loki hand him the book and he took note of the book's title. "Oh, this is a good collection of stories. In fact…" He trailed off as he began flipping through the pages. "I know just the story in here that you would like."

Odin flipped through a few more pages before arriving at said story and began to read what would become Loki's favorite story: the tale of the Trickster and the Giant.

It was a story very different form the ones Loki normally had to listen to. Absent from this tale were great battles and steadfast warrior heroes. The protagonist in this story was a bit more ambiguous.

A farmer and his family had, unknowingly, built there home by a lake that was under the control of a giant. This was a fearsome giant that not even an army had been able to defeat. Neither had there been a warrior brave enough to challenge the giant in some time.

The farmer begged the giant for pardon but it was to no avail. The giant was angry that people had dared move in on his territory. The giant demanded that the farmer and his wife surrender their young son to him in recompense for their foolishness. It was either that, or death for all of them.

The giant was not without a sporting heart. He gave the farmer and his wife only three days to try and find a way to save their son. The giant was positive that no one would rise to challenge him. Not for the sake of a poor farm boy. The giant wanted to enjoy the farmer's hope wither in the futile effort to find a way out of his web.

The farmer appealed to anyone who would listen, for aid. He went to warrior and King alike. The warriors refused because they knew of the giant's fearsome reputation and knew it a fool's errand to challenge him. There were a few that were willing to fight, however they demanded payment far beyond the means of a poor farmer.

Kings were no help either for none of them, even those deemed wisest, could see an end that did not involve terrible battle. Neither could they devise a plan that would offer permanent ends for the Farmer.

Running away was not an option either for the giant would surely find the family and kill them all. The farmer was running out of time and options. It was then that the one known as the Trickster offered to help.

Right away, Loki admired the trickster and felt as though he could identify with him. The trickster's arsenal did not consist of bruit force or grand, metal weapons. The trickster used his powers of observation; getting to know his opponents and learning their weaknesses and strengths. Ultimately, the trickster would use his knowledge of his enemies to conquer them.

Loki listened intently as the story unfolded. The Trickster had learned that the giant loved fishing (hence his displeasure at the incursion of the farmers. They were a threat to his stock) and spent every morning on the banks filling wicker baskets with his catch.

The dawn of the third day allotted by the giant came and the giant eagerly looked forward to collecting his fare at the end of the day. Then the trickster approached the giant and told him the farmer had betrayed the bargain.

"They have used magic to hide their son inside of a fish," The Trickster said. "They have hidden him in the depths of this lake. They think you a terrible fisherman and therefore unable to find the fish containing their son."

The giant became enraged. How dare they insult his skills as a fisherman? He would find the fish that contained the boy and take it back to the farmer. Then he would gut the fish, remove the boy and eat him while his family watched.

Loki cuddled up to his father, eager to hear what happened next. The giant fished feverishly for his quarry and the Trickster put the second part of his plan into action.

The boy, of course, was safely hidden in a cave. The Trickster just needed the giant to believe the lie. It was the only way he could have the giant thoroughly distracted while he set up a trap in a near by boathouse. When it was ready, the Trickster went back to the giant and berated him for still not having found his quarry.

The Trickster knew just how quick to anger the giant was and it came as no surprise that simple criticism of his fishing skills sent the giant into a rage. The trickster took off running with giant right behind him.

The giant chased the Trickster right into the boathouse. It would be the last the thing the giant ever did. Inside the boathouse was a pit with a giant spike at the bottom of it. The Trickster knew to jump and cleared the deadly pit safely. The giant fell over the edge and right onto the spike.

With the giant dead and the burden of his threat gone with him, the boy was able to return to his family. The Trickster went on his way and asked nothing in return. The farmer would go on to recount the tale of the Trickster for years to come.

Some scoffed at the Trickster and his methods. Some even went as far as to call the Trickster a sly coward, successful only by calculated luck. At this, the farmer would shrug and say "Maybe. But what a hundred battle axes and many brave warriors could not defeat, a Trickster with a good plan and a few well delivered words could."

The farmer and his family lived peacefully and happily for many years after. Always they remembered the Trickster and what he had done for him.

Odin closed the book. "Did you like that story?" he asked.

Loki eagerly bobbed his head up and down. "Yes, that was great story. I never knew there was a hero like the Trickster."

Odin smiled warmly. "The Trickster is indeed clever. What do you like about him?"

Loki thought for a few minutes. It was a short and simple story but left so much room for thought. "I think I like that his strengths did not lie in prowess with weapons or physicality." (Odin never ceased to be amazed at just how articulate his youngest son was)

"It was only by learning what he could about his enemy's strengths and weaknesses that the Trickster was able to defeat him. The Trickster never even had to raise a fist."

Odin patted Loki on the head. "It is remarkable, is it not?"

Again, Loki nodded. "I just don't understand why people would call the Trickster a coward? He wasn't afraid of the giant and ultimately, he defeated the giant permanently. Why is he not then called hero?

"The trickster found a way to avoid battle entirely. You once said that a good ruler ultimately tries to avoid battle, yet war happens all the time across the nine realms. Why father? Why do so many people still choose to fight when there is a much better way?"

Odin could have kept Loki up for hours trying to explain. But, there was really only one answer that he felt was best.

"That is because the whole rest of the nine realms are not as smart as you are." Loki blushed unashamedly. He snuggled up to his father and the two of them sat in silence. By now the storm had lessened and Loki was no longer bothered by it.

The tale of the Trickster continued to spin in Loki's mind and he wondered why his father had chosen that particular story. Was his father trying to teach him something about himself with that story? Maybe his father thought it was a story that could be appreciated just between the two of them.

The feel of tears rolling out of his eyes brought Loki, reluctantly, back to reality. He would think that after all he had been through he would spent enough tears for a hundred life times. Yet his tears were the only thing he still had in abundance.

Odin is not your father.

Malekith's words stabbed Loki in the heart like a hundred knives. He had taken tortures of all kinds by now and yet none hurt more than those words.

Loki's silent, lonely world was suddenly invaded by the most unwelcome sound imaginable: the creaking sound of iron hinges as the door to the room was being opened.

Being too weak for much else, Loki could only lay there. He could not stop what was going to happen to him, so why try and fight?

Something happened then that Loki did not expect. Instead of cruel hands touching him, he felt cloth being draped over him; a blanket. It was quickly followed by the sensation of warmth creeping over his skin.

Next, he was turned over. The hands that moved him were taking great care but the motions still caused him pain. Also, it had been so long since he had experienced gentleness (or anything akin to it) that the sensation felt alien to him.

The application of a wet, warm, cloth to his face overloaded his already exhausted senses and he opened his eyes. Hovering just above him was Malekith. The dark elf had covered him in a blanket and was now trying to wash his wounds.

Every nerve in his body screamed for him to turn away. Even so his weary soul, wounded and starved for even the slightest scrap of tenderness wanted to devour what was being offered now. He knew what was happening could end at any second. Why not enjoy it while it lasted?

"It pains me to see you so far fallen." Malekith said while he dipped the wash cloth in a bowl of hot water. He wrung out the cloth and began to dab Loki's forehead with it.

Loki made no response. This did not appear to surprise the dark elf and he kept talking.

"Your love and loyalty to Odin and Asgard is admirable but so poorly placed. Do you not see that it is your love for that realm of liars and traitors that has brought you to this? Your love for Odin has done this to you."

Loki was too weak to defend and Malekith's words poured into him like water over a ruined dam. It was true, his love and loyalty for his father is what caused him to resist Malekith. His resistance had rewarded him only pain and dashed hopes of rescue or escape.

Malekith lifted Loki's left hand with his own and began to wash the dirt away from it. He took note of the marks on the wrist. The marks were the result of the cruel use of restraint. "It is so terribly sad that one with such great potential should wither and die, utterly forgotten."

Loki's heart skipped a beat. Did this mean that Malekith was finally going to release his hold on him and let him die? At this point, death would be a release for Loki but it seemed ironic. He was not too diminished to forget the feat it was for Malekith to not only kidnap him but hide him as well.

No, Malekith had gone to way too much trouble to just give up and let Loki die. His musings seemed to give him mental strength and Loki let them continue. Loki was a prince but only a budding sorcerer. Surely there were sorcerers in other realms far more powerful than him. Hell, there were probably ones that would sympathize with Malekith and his professed cause.

Loki wondered what it was that made him so special. It occurred to him that Malekith might have wanted to use him for revenge against Odin. That theory did not account as to why Malekith was so persistent that Loki join him. If revenge was what he wanted then he would have let Loki die long ago.

What was Malekith really aspiring to? Then Loki remembered the story of the Trickster. It was only by observing his enemy and learning what he could that the Trickster was able to find a way to defeat his enemy.

"Loki, it is not too late. You can still leave Asgard behind you and have a future. Please Loki, allow me to become your mentor and I promise to show you to a path of power and opportunity that in Asgard you could only dream of."

Malekith was indeed determined to have Loki within his control. It was a dangerous gamble but it would do Loki no good to keep resisting. If he wanted to escape than maybe he would have to submit.

It would only be through observing Malekith and yes, perhaps even gaining the trust of the dark elf that Loki may yet prevail. Maybe he might even be able to gain back some of his magic. Loki would need magic if he was going to find a hole in the dark elf's otherwise, impenetrable net.

Malekith still held Loki's left hand and he gasped when he felt that hand squeeze his. The dark elf leaned in, eagerly awaiting Loki's reply.

"Very well then." Loki was shocked by the state of his voice; raspy and tired. It was barely above a whisper really. Then of course, these were the first words he had uttered that were not pained cries for mercy in the longest time.

Malekith's gold eyes brightened. "Are you saying that you agree to join me?"

Loki nodded weakly. "Yes, just please, make it all stop. I don't want to be hurt anymore."

Malekith squeezed Loki's hand tightly and ran the fingers of his free hand through Loki's hair. "Fear not," He said. "As of now you are my surrogate son. The wrath of the nine realms will pale in comparison to mine towards any who would dare harm you."

Something inside Loki smiled. Knowing that Malekith was very well pleased with this turn of events made Loki feel like he had a small victory already. As long as he was still alive there was still hope. He had to be very careful though for everything was going to change now.

What he knew for certain was that he was probably now in more danger than he ever had been before. Losing this gamble meant losing himself to the very monster he still hoped to escape.

TBC: Please review.

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