Hey guys! So I'm just messing around with a plot bunny that's been in my head for the past few days. Honestly not sure if I'll have the time or attention span to continue this story, but if people like it, I might make an effort. Cheers!
Loki could hear his brother's thundering footsteps before Thor was anywhere near his chambers. He weakly pulled himself into a sitting position and considered covering the lower half of his face, but decided against it. Seeing the stitches on his brother's lips made Thor visibly uncomfortable, which made Loki feel that he still had a small measure of control over someone. He tried not to wince as Thor threw open the door and strode into Loki's chambers as though they were his own, something he'd been doing his entire life and which never failed to grate on Loki's nerves. "Good evening, brother." Loki stared with narrowed eyes as Thor peered carefully over his huddled form. He didn't want to imagine how pathetically fragile he must look to the god of thunder. He had smashed every mirror in his chambers soon after his confinement began, so he had not seen his reflection in quite a while, but he could feel the weakness in every limb of his body and he hated it.
Thor moved to sit beside him on the bed and Loki let out a low, guttural growl. Thor ignored it and Loki gripped and headboard as his body was jostled by his brother's sudden weight upon the mattress. Thor stared at him earnestly before gesturing around the room. "Loki, you know mother and I have been greatly concerned for your well-being since….since your punishment was carried out."
A thousand sharp, furious retorts rose to the tip of Loki's tongue, and he tugged instinctively at his stitches before forcing them back down his throat. Thor was looking at him with pity in his bright, golden eyes. Loki could not stand being pitied. He pointed at the door and gritted his teeth when Thor simply carried on talking. "You are sick, brother. You are not taking care of yourself. If you continue languishing like this, your body and mind may become too damaged to recover."
Loki tried to twist his lips into a snarl, but they were held taut by the thread. With a groan of frustration, he pushed his brother away from him and jabbed his finger toward the door again. Thor looked at him sadly. "You know that if I could, I would devote my days to caring for you until you recover. But I have many duties of the realm to attend to, and I cannot always be present in Asgard when you need me."
Loki grabbed Thor's hand and attempted to spell I DON'T NEED YOU into his palm, but the god of thunder's mind was clearly elsewhere as he tapped his feet upon the marble floor. "Therefore, after a thorough search, I have found an attendant to look after you while I am away. Mother agrees it is best for you to have someone at your side to see to your well-being."
Loki pulled at his stitches again, wanting nothing more than to curse Thor for his arrogance and protectiveness. It was clear that Thor was not asking Loki's permission to bring a new attendant into his rooms. Some simple-minded chambermaid who would scurry around him and stare like he was a monster, then go downstairs and gossip with the palace staff about the pathetic state of the fallen prince. He wanted no such person near him. Loki balled his hands into fists and shook his head hard, wishing Thor would at least give him some parchment to write on so he could argue with him properly. Instead, Thor gestured toward the door and practically bellowed, "You may come in!" Loki heard the rustle of fabric as a small figure stepped into the room, and he turned a thorny glare toward the intruder. A moment later he registered what his eyes were seeing, and his vision went white with rage.
Standing in his doorway was a woman no taller than his shoulder, with a slender build and slate-grey eyes. But that wasn't the detail that struck him like a blow from his brother's hammer. Her skin, from her wide forehead to her bare feet, was a pale shade of blue which he had only seen on the worst days of his life. Thor had brought a goddamn Jotunn into his chambers.
A scream of fury boiled deep in his throat, smothered by the thread binding his lips. Loki launched himself to his feet, seized the nearest object, and hurled it at her. An old inkwell smashed against her shoulder, and she turned her eyes downward in bemusement. Loki snatched up a mug next, but the arc of his arm was interrupted by Thor's strong hand around his wrist. "Loki! Loki, control yourself, there's no need to-"
The god of mischief turned the full force of his fury on his brother, clawing at the arm that held him and pounding his fists against Thor's massive chest. The blonde man barely even flinched, which only drove Loki deeper into his rage. This was a sick joke, a mockery of his shameful heritage! A cruel reminder of his outsider status both within his family and throughout Asgard. He wondered which of Thor's insipid friends had proposed this idea as a petty amusement for the court. How they would laugh to see their disgraced, false prince walking around with this Jotunn savage at his side, the vile color of her skin reminding everyone what he really was underneath his well-cast illusion. The thought of it was unbearable. Loki let out a strangled howl as Thor managed to successfully pin his arms. He felt blood running down his chin, but he didn't care as he continued to strain at the stitches preventing him from cursing his brother into the ground. He heard Thor roar for the guards stationed outside his room, and the next moment he found himself trapped in between their plated armor as they forced his arms behind his back and shackled his wrists. Loki suddenly felt very dizzy and he swayed, held upright by their tight grip on his sides. Thor was talking, trying to calm him and get him to stop pulling at the stitches, but Loki was frantic. All the words inside his throat were choking him, he couldn't breathe, he had to get them out! I need to scream I need to scream I NEED to scream
The next thing he knew, he was being lifted and dropped roughly onto his bed. Loki fought viciously as his ankles were shackled to the bedposts and his arms were lifted and attached securely to the headboard, making it impossible for him to roll or contract his body. Once he heard the final metal click, Loki knew there was no point in struggling anymore. Chest heaving, he sought his brother's eyes and found Thor kneeling at his side, still trying to soothe him. Loki did not want to be soothed. He was not a child having a tantrum. His gaze darted about the room and settled on the bluish face of the Jotunn girl. She was still standing in the same spot, staring down at him with those blank, slate-grey eyes. Those eyes made him furious again, and he felt his lips twist into a bloody snarl.
Thor gave brisk orders to the guards, who stood and retreated from the room. Loki squirmed uncomfortably in his chains, hating them all. Even if he wasn't intentionally mocking him, how could Thor possibly think this was acceptable? All of Asgard knew that Jotunheim was populated by savage, inferior creatures who were barely fit to exist. Bringing one of them here, to look after him? It was worse than a cruel joke. Loki was convinced this had to be some kind of additional punishment devised by Odin to humiliate him further. He tried to catch Thor's eye and communicate that he did not want this creature anywhere near him. Thor, however, was rising and addressing the Jotunn girl awkwardly. "I….well, I'm sorry about that. It is as I told you, my brother is….not well. He is suffering greatly due to the nature of his punishment for recent crimes on Midgard. He doesn't mean to be hostile…."
Loki growled and jerked at his chains, emphasizing that he absolutely did mean it. To his growing horror, Thor nodded toward the girl and gathered up his cloak. "I must go and find a healer to tend to the wounds on his mouth. He cannot harm you in his current state, so just….watch him." Loki didn't see the girl nod, but Thor seemed to take her silence as an assent. He strode brusquely from the room while Loki tried to force the word Stop! past the stitches binding his lips. It came out as an unintelligible grunt, and he twisted fiercely at his wrist shackles as he listened to his brother's footsteps thunder away. What was Thor thinking, leaving him alone with this thing?
The Jotunn girl approached the bed where Loki lay, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable. The chains held his arms above his head and prevented him from using his legs to kick. This position was calculated, he knew, because it didn't hurt him, but also didn't allow him to do anything but lie here and wait to be released. He had spent a great deal of time restrained like this during the first few months of his captivity, lost in a haze of rage and panic. Now that panic was beginning to return, edging out the rage he had felt before. The Jotunn girl was standing very close to him, and even though she was small, from this angle she towered over him. It crossed Loki's mind that she must know it was he who had tried to use the power of the Bifrost to destroy her realm. Perhaps she even knew how he had tricked and killed Laufey, plunging Jotunheim into a state of leaderless chaos. What in all the nine realms made Thor think she wouldn't use this opportunity to take revenge? Loki tried to glare up at her, but found his eyes flitting nervously across her azure body, searching for a weapon. She was wearing a cream-colored tunic and not much else, seemingly impervious to the cold air on her bare limbs. Her hair was like a snowdrift atop her head, pure white and wild, and her cheekbones were outlined with thin ridges which ran up to the outer corner of both eyes. She did not speak. Dumb savage, he thought, probably doesn't even speak the Aesir tongue. When she moved, he twitched and craned his neck to follow her as she paced a slow circle around his bed. Despite the darkness of her eyes, he could tell she was studying him intently, and he did not like it at all. Where was his idiot of a brother? It shouldn't take this long to run to the infirmary and back.
She leaned toward him suddenly, and he gave a muffled cry and pulled away as far as the chains would allow. Ignoring his fear, she reached an icy hand across the headboard and laid a finger on the inside of his wrist. It was the barest touch, as light as a snowflake, yet he felt the sensation of his skin responding by dropping his body temperature. The veins in his forearm felt like rivers freezing over in the winter. Strangest of all, it did not hurt. The girl's eyes grew wider and more intense as he snapped out of his reverie and thrashed fiercely against the chains holding his arms. It was too late, though – out of the corner of his eye he saw his palm beginning to flush that same eerie shade of blue. It spread like an infection, a disease, until his entire hand was that loathsome color. Loki couldn't contain the urge to voice his outrage, though it only made him angrier when all of his violent curses came out as strained, animalistic grunts. The girl's eyes moved to his face and settled on the stitches that bound his words. She finally stopped touching him and just stared, as if he were a fascinating specimen she had been sent to analyze.
Loki had never been so relieved to hear his brother's raucous footsteps on the flagon stones outside his door. Thor came bustling in with a healer in tow, and the girl backed away as the uniformed lady set about wiping the blood from his mouth with a wet cloth. Loki squirmed indignantly as she pushed his head down and applied salve to his wounds without so much as a 'by your leave.' Ever since his lips were sealed, people treated him like an object to be handled rather than a conscious being. Worst of all, he couldn't even protest, and it was beginning to drive him mad. His eyes darted toward his brother, but Thor just looked at him in sad confusion and Loki knew the god of thunder could never understand how it felt to be this helpless. He closed his eyes and refused to open them again until the healer left his chambers.
He felt Thor's weight settle onto the bed beside his legs. If his brother noticed his discolored hand, he didn't say anything. Loki gritted his teeth and told himself he needed to act docile now. It was his only chance of getting these damned chains removed anytime soon. If Thor left him like this, he would be at the mercy of the unnerving grey-eyed Jotunn standing in the corner, nearly blending into the bluish dimness of the evening shadows. He knew he did not want that. Thor touched his shoulder gently and Loki had to wrestle with himself so as not to pull away. "It will be all right, brother," Thor said earnestly, gesturing toward the corner. "She will take good care of you. I have searched far and wide to find someone suitable for your….circumstances."
Loki shook his head furiously, forgetting to be docile. I will not have this creature forced on me; I will not be further humiliated! His throat felt like it was boiling with enraged frustration. If he could only speak, it would take him less than five minutes to convince his witless brother that this was a terrible idea. Thor always came around to Loki's silver-tongued persuasions, whether he realized it or not. The god of mischief could talk his way into or out of anything, an ability which he prized above all else. But now that he was mute, he was powerless.
"Loki, are you listening to me?" He blinked and stared up at his brother's irked expression. "At least think of mother's peace of mind. She worries for you night and day. She knows you need help, yet you drive off anyone who offers it and so you suffer alone. This state of affairs cannot go on."
Anyone who offers me help is a naïve fool. Loki pulled at his chains and glanced pointedly at Thor, who had always been extremely accomplished in that area. The god of thunder sighed and reached down to unlock the shackles, though Loki noted with displeasure that Thor left one of his ankles attached to the bedpost. "You will rest now," he commanded, his tone making it clear Loki had no choice in the matter. "You will not injure or threaten this woman. In the morning, if you are calm, you may go free."
Loki narrowed his eyes, hating the tone of authority Thor always took in these situations. It had been like this ever since they were children. Thor was the oldest, so he got to dictate what games they would play, and if Loki got upset about it he would have to contend with his brother's insistent nature, which was more tiring than simply going along with what he wanted. How little things had changed over the years. But Loki was not a child anymore, and he had the right to be furious about what had been done to him. He made a sound of protest as Thor stood up, and reached for him with newly freed hands. Thor easily evaded him by backing away. He handed something to the Jotunn girl and nodded at her before bidding Loki goodnight and striding from the room. Loki was left staring at the corner where this savage girl, this enemy, was resting against the wall. Slowly, without blinking or turning her back, she climbed onto the counter, pulled her knees up to her chest, and continued to stare with grey, owlish eyes. She seemed to be taking Thor's command to watch him very seriously.
He looked around for something he could throw at her, but his limited reach left him with no satisfactory options. Pointing fiercely at the door, he tried his best to articulate the words GET OUT from behind his stitches. His lips stung and the order stayed trapped inside his mouth. Even if this girl did not intend to harm him, how was she going to serve him if he couldn't even express his desires? I want to leave these bloody rooms. I want to talk with mother in her gardens. I want to read books from the library. I want to rule Midgard and make those petty humans kneel. I want to be a true Asgardian heir. I want to forget what this weakness feels like. I want to scream. I want water.
Exhausted, he threw himself onto his mattress and turned his head to watch the Jotunn girl warily. He didn't know what he would do if she suddenly attacked. He had no weapons and he couldn't call out for the guards stationed outside his door. Loki had no illusions about how easy he would be to subdue in his weakened state. They stared at each other for what felt like hours, as the shadows slid from one wall to another and the nighttime sounds of the castle echoed through the empty halls. He fought to keep his eyes open, but he couldn't help blinking. Loki did not remember exactly when his eyes blinked shut and stayed that way.
Sometime in the night, a cashmere blanket found its way around his shoulders and the god of mischief curled up in its folds, unconsciously tugging at the stitches that kept his nightmare mutterings trapped behind his lips.