Warning! Whipping! Graphic depictions of violence! Yep!
Quietly, unassumingly, Loki knelt by the door, his head tilted respectfully toward the ground, and his work, but his eyes trained on his master.
Since he'd begun his operations, the slavers had become much more careful. They knew they were breaking the law, and they'd do anything to keep from being caught. It was getting harder and harder to prove that there was anything going wrong in their manors at all.
Cul, the man who owned Loki at the moment, had a rather annoying habit of burning the documents that proved his guilt as soon as was possible, leaving an extremely small opening for any theft of them.
Today, however, Loki happened to know, there was a note in Cul's pocket from his neighbor, down the street, asking permission to rent out a few of his slaves. If Loki could get his hands on that, He could bust two slavers at once. The only problem was, as a new slave, having only been purchased two weeks prior, he was being watched like a hawk for any toe out of line.
There was a little girl, Kaitlyn, who was waiting on Cul at the moment, and would sometimes trot through the doorway Loki was scrubbing the floor beside, in a quest for some sweet meat or something else for their master. She was a bright little thing, no older than seven, and offered Loki a cheery smile every time she passed.
Just then, Cul leaned over, and muttered something in her ear, and she got up, and began her trek back to the kitchens. Loki discreetly plucked her sleeve to get her attention. She glanced down 9in her surprise, her innocent blue eyes wide and curious.
"Please bring me the paper in Master's pocket." Loki whispered in the lowest of tones.
"I'll get in trouble!" Kaitlyn protested, just as quietly.
"You won't." Loki gave a reassuring smile, and she nodded, and slipped into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she returned, bearing a little cake on a plate, and happily clumped over to her master. Only the most trained and practiced would notice how she reached into his pocket, as she leaned forward to offer the cake to Cul. Loki smiled behind his hair, and continued scrubbing, as if, he, also, hadn't noticed. One more trek to the kitchens, and Kaitlyn subtly slipped the paper into Loki's hand.
Inconspicuously, Loki stood up, and slipped out of the room, and up to the cold, miserable attic, where the carrier pigeons were kept. A quick note scrawled, and tied to the leg of one of them, and Loki released it to the skies, just as quickly racing down to the parlor, where his task awaited him.
It turns out…
Cul had noticed the note's absence, and was screaming at Kaitlyn. The poor girl was cowered in the corner, huddled in the corner, her eyes wide in fright. "For the last time, you useless bag of bones, where did you put the note?!" The monster of a man screamed.
Loki grit his teeth in frustration and disgust. He couldn't do anything without compromising hi position… on the other hand… reinforcements were on their way.
"I-I don't have it, Master!" Kaitlyn was insisting, her cheeks wet with tears.
Loki made his choice in that moment.
With a quick motion, he bent over, seized the edge of the rug, and whisked it out from under Cul's feet. The man went flying, and hit his nose pretty hard on the hardwood. The same floor Loki was supposed to be cleaning, as a matter of fact.
"YOU!" Cul roared, scrambling to his feet and holding his bleeding nose. "How dare you?"
The young Jotun decided this would be a prime opportunity to run. Turning on his heel, he bolted towards the door, and slipped on the wet floor he'd been scrubbing only ten minutes before. Arms flailing, he landed face-first into the muddy water. As Cul grabbed him by his arm, and yanked to his feet, Loki glanced at Kaitlyn, who was watching him with wide eyes. She'd been entirely forgotten.
"Thank you." She mouthed, as Cul dragged him out the door.
He was getting a whipping, that was for sure, but it had totally been worth it, to see the little girl's shining blue eyes filled with gratitude as they led him away. He flashed her a quick smile. He'd be alright. This wasn't the first whipping he'd ever gotten – far from it.
Apparently, Cul didn't want him to be punished right at that moment, simply wanted him to pay, since he simply threw Loki into an old shed.
"Your whipping's at dawn." He growled. "I'll give you plenty of time to think over your mistake."
Loki lowered his head contritely, in an attempt to look chastised. Perhaps, if he looked like he'd paid enough, already, the whipping wouldn't be as long or hard.
The door slammed, and he heard the oh-so-familiar sound of a key turning inside a lock.
Welp.
He was stuck.
With a sigh, he leaned up against the wall, and tried to console himself with the idea of the coming Einherjar. Maybe they'd arrive before the morning? No, that had literally never happened. The shortest amount of time they'd shown up in was two days. There was no hope that they'd rescue him from the whip.
He couldn't attempt to escape, since escaping would mean there would be no proof when the Einherjar came. He'd simply have to stick it out.
It was extremely boring, in there. There was nothing but a bit of straw on the floor, and a knothole through which he could see the setting sun. Loki's stomach growled hungrily, and with frustration, he realized he hadn't eaten since the previous day.
Ugh.
This was quite the frustrating situation. He didn't even know if Kaitlyn was alright, or if Cul had simply returned to the manor and beaten her, regardless of Loki's intervention. With a sigh, he realized that really the only thing he could do, is fall asleep, and forget about this whole thing for a few hours.
Curling up in the straw, he repressed a shudder, and drifted off to sleep.
It seemed only a few seconds, before he was roused from his slumber by a rough hand dragging him upright. Before he was really conscious enough to realize what was going on, he was half-led, half-dragged out into the harsh sunlight, and shackled to the dreaded post. His dirty, linen tunic was ripped from his shoulders, and Loki glanced up in terror to see one of the overseers curling a long, blacksnake whip from his hand. With a gulp, Loki turned his eyes forward, and tried not to shiver in the chilly early morning air.
It came as a shock, the first lash tearing through his already-scarred shoulders. Loki grit his teeth against the searing pain. He could get through this. He'd done this hundreds of times before. It barely affected him.
Another lash, and Loki's vision clouded in pain. Still, not a whimper escaped his lips, as the overseer wound up for another strike.
Five lashes, and the sweat dripped down his neck, into the open wounds, stinging like anything, but still, Loki refused to make a noise.
Ten strokes, and Loki's legs were trembling beneath him, silent tears flowing down his face as he writhed in pain.
Twenty, and stars swam into his vision. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and bit his lip hard, grunting in exertion.
Forty, and the world began fading away. The cracks of the whip seemed dull and faraway, and Loki's vision wobbled and swam. The only thing keeping him upright was the blasted post, and he was light-headed from blood loss.
Three strokes of the whip, later, and he was out cold. The velvety, deep blackness embraced him, and he knew no more.
It seemed hours later, that he felt the click of the manacles coming undone, and he collapsed to the ground, in a weak, miserable heap, the dust stinging the lacerations on his shoulders. Strong firm hands took hold of his upper arms, brushed his hair away from his eyes, and with a great effort, Loki peeled his eyes open. Thor.
"Loki, can you hear me?" He was demanding, his face wreathed in concern. "Brother, please wake up!"
"Ng…" Was all Loki could manage. His throat felt dreadfully dry, and his skin prickled from the heat. It wasn't a hot day, but the sun's rays were strong, and he hadn't had a drink in almost two days. "W-Water…" He croaked pitifully, inwardly cringing at his helplessness. After what seemed an eternity later, the cool rim of a canteen was pressed to his cracked, bleeding lips. Loki eagerly gulped down the sweet liquid, and drifted off to sleep, again.
Thor gently picked his little brother up, and carried him back to the horses, his heart aching within him. If only they'd arrived just an hour earlier, Loki wouldn't be in this awful state. Gently, he laid Loki on the back of the cart they'd brought along, on top of a pile of soft blankets they'd used at their encampment, the previous night. Loki stirred slightly, his sleeping face drawn in pain. Thor sighed heavily, and sat down beside his brother's still form as he waited for the Einherjar to finish rounding up all the overseers, and everyone else.
"Excuse me? Master King Thor, sir?" A tiny voice spoke up at his elbow, and he glanced down to see a tiny girl, barefooted, dressed in rags, with long, curly, chocolate-brown hair and wide, blue eyes, smiling nervously at the ground.
"Hello." Thor smiled cheerfully at the little girl. "What's your name?"
"I, uh…" She stammered, her feet shuffling awkwardly in the dust. "I'm Kaitlyn. That's my friend, Loki. Is he gonna be okay?"
Thor turned to re-evaluate Loki. No change. "I hope so. He's your friend, you say?"
"Yes, Master King Thor, sir." She nodded, a hopeful smile blooming on her face, as she timidly reached for Loki's hand, pale fingers curling around blue. "He saved my life, yesterday."
"You know, you can just call me Thor, you know." Thor pointed out, and the girl glanced up at his face in shock. "But you're free man. I gotta be respec'ful."
Thor shook his head. "You're free, too."
Kaitlyn shook her head. "No, Master. I belong to Master Cul."
"You know I'm the king, right?" Thor grinned happily. Kaitlyn nodded, eyes wide in awe.
"That means I make the rules, right?" Thor pointed out. "Well, the day I became king, I made a rule that said nobody is allowed to have slaves."
"Oh." Kaitlyn uttered. "That mean… That mean Master Cul isn't obeying?"
Thor nodded soberly.
Kaitlyn's wide eyes grew even wider. "Is he gon' get a whuppin'?"
Thor shrugged. "Probably not. I'll just put him in jail."
This whole business seemed to extremely confuse the poor child. "But… then who's gonna own me?"
"Nobody." Thor chuckled. "You're free."
"Where do I go?" She wondered.
"Probably with your parents." Thor suggested.
Kaitlyn looked slightly downcast at this development. "Oh. My parents were sold when I was a baby."
Thor stiffened in shock, looking down at this child. She seemed so young and innocent, but, truly, she'd gone through more hardship than many people, who were three times her age. Her innocent blue eyes were clouded by pain, fear, and loss, yet she still looked at the world with hopeful expectancy, as if everything was going to get better, soon.
"Who takes care of you, now?" Thor wondered.
"Well…" She shrugged. "Miss Anna used to… but she died last Tuesday." Kaitlyn looked hopefully up at Thor, meeting his eyes for the first time. "Could I stay with Loki?"
Thor glanced down at his brother, again. "Probably. You know, he's my brother."
"Really?" She looked between the two of them in wonder. "But he's a slave! And you're king! And… you don't look the same."
That last was kind of the understatement of the century. Loki was literally blue, for heaven's sake.
"Well, he was only pretending to be a slave." Thor admitted. "So that we could catch Cul."
Kaitlyn furrowed her brow in confusion, but climbed onto the back of the cart. "So, are you going to the palace?"
Thor nodded, noticing the Einherjar returning with the prisoners.
They started up the horses, and began the long trip back to the palace. Thor and Kaitlyn stayed in the cart, as it rolled along, making sure Loki didn't fall out, and watched the sun rise in the sky on a new day.
TheOnlyHuman.