A/N: The Thor/Helblindi meeting was leading to some kinda heavy feelz, and I was in the mood for something light given all this storm crappola this week. So, this is a shorter chapter, ending with Sif & W3 messing with each other, which was fun to write. The somewhat territorial brothers thing will happen next chapter instead – and it's already partly written, so it should be up in a few days.
Also: apologies to anybody who isn't interested in reading Loki's contract papers – there's a lot of them in this chapter. I just think he's naturally curious and there's no way he would let a potential grudge like this lie without finding out what was in there.
Thor was sleeping, and giving every indication that he would remain sleeping through the night and all the next day. Loki would not leave him – but did not feel disciplined enough to study, nor relaxed enough to read for pleasure.
So of course the sensible thing to do was call forth the papers he had retrieved from the Drones and read that instead.
He put out of his mind entirely that Drone Three had advised him not to examine the documents. The day he voluntarily took advice from one of those creatures…
Loki Odinson, the cover page said simply. It was a machine-printed sheet, but when he turned the page, the first document was a letter in Odin's own handwriting.
I have a prisoner to entrust to you: my son Loki, the letter said. No greeting. Send agents to collect him at once; I will give detailed instructions here and repeat the critical points in Loki's hearing. Prepare the usual papers – he will be treated normally insofar as the pains you inflict and the confessions you extract. However, I will have special instructions regarding the care to be taken with his dignity, and a warning regarding his affinity for lies.
Loki twitched with smile. Affinity for lies.
Breaking Loki will be difficult and delicate work, Odin went on, requiring sensitivity but also a very firm hand. I trust you will appoint a team capable of the task, and I expect to meet them before half an hour passes.
And then his signature, big and bold.
Loki flipped the page. More correspondence. Will we need to send warriors to subdue him? said a note, and Odin had scrawled across the bottom: No – he will go willingly, but his escort should be visibly intimidating in order to impress upon him the seriousness of his situation.
At that he frowned. Odin had known he would cooperate, and he hated having been so predictable. If he had known what was expected of him he would have made a point of rebelling, and behaving as erratically as possible.
The next page began the contract itself. It was printed, a list of terms to be marked and initialed. The first was: The prisoner shall be returned to me ALIVE / DEAD / DEAD OR ALIVE. Odin had circled ALIVE, which seemed to bode well. He'd been kind for most of the page, actually – The prisoner SHALL NOT be permanently disfigured. The prisoner SHALL NOT lose ANY body parts or ANY body functions. (Loki wondered what it meant when a prisoner SHALL NOT lose MAJOR body parts. What qualified as a major body part?). He was not thrilled that Odin had authorized MODERATE scarring as opposed to MINOR, or better yet NONE, but on the other hand he supposed he could always have wiped scars away with magic afterwards anyhow.
He finished the page not feeling particularly upset by the contract yet; it was mostly information he had already had.
When he flipped to the next section, though, he felt much less tranquil. This was a checklist, Permit or Do not Permit item after item, and Odin had taken his pen and slashed wholesale down the Permit column. In other words, Loki thought, go on and do what you like to him. I don't even care enough to think about it.
He set the contract face down; he needed a moment. Thor was snoring away, peaceful and oblivious, and Loki crept across the room to sit beside him on the bed. "You're an idiot," he said softly. Rack. Wheel rack. Cross. Maiden. Even a quick glance at these forms should have told Thor more than enough. What on earth could possess him to sign them?
When the bed dipped Thor twitched in his sleep, and curled up – a defensive posture Loki had never ever thought to see him adopt. "Mm," he mumbled. "Mm-nn."
Loki winced. Looked around first, because he felt truly ridiculous and wanted to assure himself that no one was watching. Then he leaned forward and put a hand on Thor's waist. "It's all right," he said. "It's done, mm-nn, no more hurt. Go to sleep. You're safe now."
Thor relaxed, which was good, but then recommenced snoring, which grew annoying very quickly. Loki went back to the table.
The contract was still calling.
There's nothing there for me, he told himself, but it will tell me at least what might have happened to Thor, and then I'll know how to take care of him without making him talk about it. It seemed like a reasonable enough justification.
He flipped the pages again to find the checklist. As he'd noticed earlier, Odin had approved without restriction the Methods page. Loki scanned through it, impressed at its thoroughness. A dozen different beating implements were mentioned by name, but there was also an option for Beating – All Other, with an Except line to specify any tools that were excluded. (And Odin had excluded nothing.). Burning was similarly detailed; they could use Open Flame, Hot Irons, Scalding Liquids, Electricity. All Other. Except.
Other entries were a mystery to him; under Shocking he understood Electrical and Magic, but Free was an unknown and he made a note to check the library later. Direct Nerve Stimulation – whatever that was – sounded clinical and terrifying, and some of the items under Chemicalwere nearly as bad. And Odin had marked Permit for all of them. For all of everything. Permit Permit Permit.
He swallowed. "I should send the creatures a thank-you card," he murmured. Feeling lucky for what had not happened to him was a nice change from feeling sickened by what had.
He turned the page and saw with some surprise that Odin had actually taken his time with the next portion. There were individual items checked and circled, and notes in the margin. Loki was gratified to notice that while Odin had permitted most of the Fear section, he had written beside it: Probably of little use. Loki supposed he agreed; most of the list hardly sounded like tortures to him at all (Darkness? Vermin?) and while Mock Drowning for instance didn't sound like fun, it was surely better than drowning in earnest.
Odin had disallowed almost the entire Humiliation category (except for Nudity and Slapping), and written for emphasis: Be courteous, talk with rather than at him, give him his name. In the appalling section labeled Sex, he had prohibited Rape by Living Creature and Groping andGenital Torture With Sexual Overtones… though he had allowed Genital Torture Without Sexual Overtones, and Loki had a sudden need to cup himself protectively. Penetration by Object was treated in the same way. Loki firmly didn't think about it.
Odin had added at the bottom of the page: I authorize you to use the above techniques only to the extent that you can do so respectfully. Punish him for foolish and shallow pride, frighten or embarrass him to make him more tractable if you wish, but the genuine esteem in which he holds himself is not to be disturbed. He has problems enough in this regard already.
Loki snorted. "You're a monster, son," he said aloud. "And there's nothing you can ever do to please me, and I'm sending you away to be butchered. But please, by no means start to doubt yourself."
"Loki." A sleepy murmur from the bed.
Loki spun around fast. And removed his hand from his crotch. "I didn't mean to wake you, sorry. Go back to sleep."
He vanished the contract. Just in time – Thor's eyes moved over the table in puzzlement. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, nothing." Loki laughed. "Reading poetry. A very moving piece about the love a father has for his sons. I'm not done with it yet. Go back to sleep."
Thor sighed, and rolled carefully onto his back. For a bit he was silent. Then he confessed, to the ceiling: "Things would happen to me when I tried to sleep."
Of course. He should have realized. "Would you like me to knock you out with magic?" he offered, casually. The less Thor thought it mattered, the more likely he was to cooperate. "You won't startle so easily, and you won't dream."
Thor heaved a sigh. "I should be able to sleep on my own. Babies manage to sleep on their own."
"Not babies who have just come from a torture chamber." Loki got up and crossed the room, and didn't comment on the way Thor tensed for just a moment. Wariness was… strange on him. Thor never had cause to be wary of anything.
"Let me, brother," he insisted. "For a few days at least, while the memories are still fresh. You can train yourself back to normalcy once you've rested. Hm?"
Thor looked away, face dark. Finally he nodded.
Loki fished his hand out of the covers and held it. Not strictly necessary for the spell, but touch did sometimes make enchantments stronger. "Look at me," he said, and that was not at all necessary for the spell, but he wasn't about to help Thor pretend that this was shameful.
Thor made eye contact only reluctantly, mouth thin. "Of course you hate this," Loki said, with his gentlest smile. "You've always hated all kinds of splints, ever. It's all right."
"I want to be well," he growled. "Now."
"You've been home for a grand total of a couple of hours, Thor," Loki pointed out. "It's a bit early to be feeling impatient."
"Hmph."
"I'm going to put you to sleep now, all right? Are you comfortable?"
Thor wriggled a bit and then relaxed into the bed. "Yes. Go on." He gripped Loki's hand firmly and waited.
Loki sketched the rune he needed, and Thor went out like a light. Then he added another rune, to try and silence the snoring.
Loki stayed in the bedroom long past noon the next day because he didn't want Thor to wake up alone, but he was going stir-crazy and as soon as the snoring transformed itself into intelligible mumbles, he made for the door. "I'll send your friends in to keep you company, shall I?"
"Hm?" Thor moved slowly, stiffly, to roll to his side. "No," he gasped, obviously in pain, but he rarely appreciated offers to help and so Loki didn't make one. "Let me have some time to dress."
"Alone? Or should I stay?"
Thor clenched his fist in the bedding and waited a moment. "Alone," he said at last, under much better control.
"All right. Take your time. I'll go see how badly everything's gone to shit since we've been gone."
He heard petitions, signed documents, fielded questions from worried subjects and friends and even the woman Thor had attempted to take to bed after his birthday party – which seemed a lifetime ago. He avoided Frigga, because he was too old to run to Mother with every little problem, but he did make a point of stopping by the Allfather's bedchamber to tell him coldly: "Your son is safe now. No thanks to you." And when that still wasn't enough to burn off his anger he added: "They tortured him – but of course don't blame yourself for putting the idea of forcible enlightenment into his head; I'm sure he would have thought it up on his own anyway." Vicious and more vicious. "Want to know how he's doing? For all I know he's as mad as I am, and he whimpers in his sleep now like a little child, but don't worry – I'm taking care of him. I hope you find that reassuring, Allfather. And I certainly hope you're enjoying your nap. Thor's mine now. Sleep well."
Ah, that felt better.
It was hours before Thor was dressed and able to walk steadily, but his friends did not bother him until he was ready. When he finally emerged he found them lurking in the hallway – Volstagg and Hogun at least. "We've been taking it in turns," Volstagg explained. "Weren't sure how long it would be before you came out."
Thor nodded. "I need to eat."
It was the most reassuring thing he could possibly have said; Volstagg grinned and slapped him on the back (and Hogun wordlessly caught him when he pitched over), and they made their slow way with him down the corridor, swapping stories of battles where people had been hurt much worse than this. Between those and the difficulty of walking, Thor's mind was completely occupied. It occurred to him that it was betterthis way really, that as long as it took intense concentration to balance upright and put one foot in front of the other, he would have no time or ability to remember anything else. He wondered if it might not be better to ask Loki to slow his healing rather than speed it up; once he had attention to spare it was likely to wander to…
Things.
"Where's Fandral?" he said loudly, trying to drown out his own thoughts. Sif he could do without; Sif had looked at him quite strangely yesterday, worried and almost angry. She either could not see or did not care that concern was not necessary, and so for the moment at least he would prefer to spend his time with his other friends only.
Volstagg snorted. "Fandral is probably tucking his dick back in his pants right about now."
"Likely," Hogun agreed. "He has been gone almost three minutes."
"My friends, you have grown brutal since I left you," Thor laughed. "Fandral is-"
"Or he could be prying Sif off that brother of yours." Volstagg said it lightly. Too lightly. And he wouldn't make eye contact.
That was ridiculous. Thor glanced at Hogun to see, but Hogun shrugged at the floor. "Esteem has grown between them," he admitted.
"Aye," Volstagg snorted. "The kind of esteem that makes a wench share a bed with a man."
A cleared throat behind them made them whirl – Thor slower than the others, which he hated – to see Fandral and the wench in question.
"Now, that's not fair," Fandral protested primly. "There's no reason to think anything untoward. A couple of nights ago Loki was sharing withme."
Volstagg laughed. "And that's supposed to convince us that it's chaste? All that tells me is that Sif should check herself for diseases, if Loki was in proximity to you before he- oomph."
Fandral thumped him in the stomach. "Don't mind Volstagg, he's just jealous." He threw his arm around – at least, as far around Volstagg's bulk as it would go. "Since nobody will ever share a room with him, because he snores like a bear."
Thor was too busy trying to look healthy to really get involved in the conversation, but Sif seemed to mistake his silence for brooding. "There's nothing to any of that, obviously," she said quietly to him as they continued on down the hall. "I did share a bed with Loki, because I was worried about you, and he held me like a sister. That's all."
Thor tried to picture Loki holding Sif in any manner besides a chokehold, and the image would not come. "Of course," he lied.
"And," she added, intent on unburdening herself, "There's also nothing to the talk of me and the frost-giants. Loki's friend said I'm pleasing to look on. That's all. I didn't even answer him."
A frost-giant paying Sif a courteous compliment (and Sif allowing it!?)? That was another event he could not picture. He could picture pushing Sif out of the way as a frost-giant's axe whizzed over her head, but…
"I know you're not silly enough to be jealous anymore," she went on. "I just didn't want to give you any more things to worry about right now. You have enough on your plate."
He heaved a sigh. "Sif, I'm fine."
"That's what Loki says too – and look at him."
"Sif."
She was quiet for about two seconds. Then: "I am a woman, you know," she sniffed. Strange – usually she punched people who mentioned that particular fact. "If I want to fuss a little you're just going to have to let me."
He didn't quite have the energy to argue with her – yet.
Loki heard that the king was up and about, raiding the kitchens, and so he excused himself from counsel. If the king was well enough to raid the kitchens he was well enough to do his own job. He followed the sound of laughter and ruckus, and walked in just as Fandral put the finishing touches on a stack of small cakes that Volstagg apparently meant to try swallowing whole.
"You have to open the throat, my friend. Open." Fandral was tilting his head back, demonstrating.
"Not going to ask where you learned that. I think it's all in the stomach." Volstagg let out an enormous belch. "All about making room first, see?"
Thor and Sif were sitting together on a counter, deep in conversation, and Loki got close enough to hear what they were talking about before they noticed him. (Magic may or may not have helped with that.)
"Truly?" Thor was saying. "Are you sure?"
"I said I'm not sure, Thor. But the giants all laughed when we walked in shivering, whispering among themselves, and I know I heard one say they thought Loki had grown out of this silliness." She looked horribly uncomfortable. "It sounded like he visits them… as a Jotun. But I couldn't say for sure."
"You could ask," Loki snapped, and pulled off the charm that kept him unnoticed.
Sif's dagger was halfway out of its sheath before she recognized him. She was fast. "Loki."
"I'm terribly sorry to have startled you, my lady," he said, dripping innocence. He was surprised that Thor didn't snap orders at him to be nice,but then he looked at Thor and realized Thor wasn't in much of a state to snap orders at all just now. He was immediately contrite. "Brother I didn't mean to…"
Thor shook his head, short and jerky. "It's fine." He was gripping the counter hard, breathing hard, but they waited in silence and eventually he relaxed. "Go on," he invited at last, gesturing. "You were sniping at one another…?"
"We're done," Sif said into Loki's eyes, and he couldn't agree more. "Thor was just asking about what it's like going to Jotunheim with you," she explained, a little sharply. "Since you never tell anyone anything."
Loki rolled his eyes and said in Thor's direction. "You know perfectly well what it's like going to Jotunheim: it's cold and it's full of Jotuns. What else is there to tell?"
"Their chief. The one who's your relation." Thor was using that look, that open and guileless one. "Sif says you like him. That you're friends."
Loki looked away. "I… I'm sure I've told you that Helblindi is my favorite…"
Thor frowned. "I'm not even sure you've ever used his name. Besides, given how y-…" He took a breath and rephrased. "Given some recent events, I wouldn't think it takes much to be your favorite Jotun."
Ah. He did have a point. Considering Loki had attempted to murder all of Jotunheim…
"Well, I like him," he said shortly. "All right? I'd have you meet him, except it's too fucking cold for you at this time of year. We'll talk about it when their sun comes again."
"So invite him here."
Loki laughed aloud. "What – a frost-giant in Asgard?"
Sif hummed and looked at her fingernails. "He wouldn't be the first."
Loki stared at her in amazement – how dare she bring up…
"What?" she insisted, and gestured at him. "We've got one right in front of us. You could turn blue and keep him company."
He looked her over and decided that she was serious. Hadn't meant any worse than that. Hadn't meant to bring up Loki murdering his own father or anyone else. So he ignored her and turned to his brother. "Thor, it's madness."
"Because that's always stopped him," Sif put in.
"Sif!" Loki pointed, sending her away like a bad dog. "Go. Go let Fandral teach you how to open your throat or something."
Sif hopped down from the counter easily… but suddenly her dagger was at his neck. "Say that again and I'll open yours."
After she was gone Loki climbed up onto the counter in her place. His neck stung, but his fingers came away clean and he took that as a sign of affection.
"I truly want to meet your frost-giant friend," Thor said, as if there had been no interruption.
"Not now, brother." Explanations poured out easily enough. "You just got home and you're exhausted. The last thing you need is-"
"-Is to dwell on things that are past," Thor said over him. "I would like to stay occupied if you don't mind."
A good point, but Loki didn't care. "Then you can start by attending your meetings again. Or pretty soon I'm going to demand a crown of my own; I'm the one doing all the work anyway."
Somehow, incredibly, that failed to provoke or even distract him. "Fine. Meetings are fine. But in the meantime, bring me your giant."
"He's not a, a stone I can just put in my pocket and-"
"Invite him to visit, Loki. I am serious."
Clearly. "Fine, all right." Loki held up his hands in surrender – mock surrender; surely he would think of a way to avoid this uncomfortable meeting once he really put his mind to it. "I'll invite him. Your wish is my command after all."
"Good."
TBC.
Even when Odin is trying to be nice, he pisses me off. He perceives that Loki has self-esteem issues and cautions the torturers against traumatizing him in that regard... and somehow completely misses that maybe if he treated Loki a litle better Loki wouldn't have doubts about his value in the first place. (At least *Loki* didn't miss that though. I'd rather have him be snarly and sarcastic towards Odin that continue pining after his %! #*& conditional love.)
