There was icy tension in the room.
Thor said nothing to the Frost Giant draped languidly across the throne. The Asgardian had been waiting silently since Loki had exchanged words with the Frost King and he and the guards left him kneeling there in the center of the large, hollow chamber and departed the planet.
Before Loki had left the chamber with the rest, he had whispered to his brother that he was no prisoner and that they would return there at half-cycle to retrieve him.
Though Thor knew it was said to comfort and strengthen him, the out-cast prince felt no comfort as he knelt, one knee to the icy ground before the towering Jotunn. He was apprehensive about kneeling for the Frost King, but Loki had urged it on the way there and the blonde knew it would help their cause to mend the alliance with Jotunheim if he at least tried to be civil.
So Thor knelt to the Frost King.
He had been kneeling a while and didn't realize how much time had passed. Beyond the physical discomfort of the prolonged kneeling, Thor could not help feeling relief. If bowing was all it would take to satisfy the Frost King, then Thor would bite his pride and do it. It was preferrable to a number of other things the bitter beast could likely think up with which to torture the Asgardian.
Suddenly Thor heard the thunderous steps of the Frost Giant descending the jagged throne and his short-lived relief was replaced with a permenant dread.
Thor tensed slightly as the ground quaked but did not move. Two large, giant's feet stepped into his vision.
"Stand." said the deep, monsterous voice that sounded like a violent wind passing through a mountanous cave.
Thor took a deep breath and slowly rose to his feet.
The capable warrior who was considered fairly large among Asgardian men was nearly half the size of the Frost Giant and rose just to his chest.
Thor did his best to remain undaunted and fixed his gaze ahead, as though he were looking straight through the towering Jotunn.
The Frost King didn't say anything for a while but stared down at his new subject as if coming to a conclusion about him.
"Remove your armor," he finally said and his deep, quaking voice broke the silence like an explosion in space, "I will not have Asgardian livery in my pure realm. Certainly not on one of my servants," he added coolly as though to incite a reaction from his prisoner.
Thor had become more patient in his time serving Asgard and even in his short time exiled on Earth. He was not the same God of Thunder who attacked Jotunheim and did not have the same brash temperament he had then.
He did not meet the king's challenge, but took another deep breath and removed his armor. He took his time as he lifted the heavy platings from his upper body and unlaced his leggings. When he was done, he placed everything on the floor in a neat pile next to him and returned to the passive stance. He held his arms at his sides and stared straight ahead, looking as undaunted as he could in only his gray under-linings now. They were long and covered him to his wrists and ankles but were thin for agility and did not contain his body heat like the full armor. Thor fear the effect of the cold planet was having on his body would soon be apparent to the Frost King.
After another stretched pause, Thor spoke up. "What would you have of me, King Laufey," he asked, carefully leveling his voice to conceal any shivers that betrayed his lack of acclimatization. He spoke quickly not only to get the whole ordeal done with, but to break the sharp silence in which the giant spent leering down at him like a great looming statue. It was unnerving. Thor feared that Laufey could sense the tiny tremors that were beginning as his body temperature dropped. Was this the Frost King's idea of penance, Thor wondered, to summon the former prince there so he could watch him slowly freeze?
"What would I have of you," Laufey repeated in his low growl, eyeing Thor with detached interest, "I would have you skinned and boiled alive," he began a steady prowl around his still captive.
It took everything in Thor to keep him from following the giant as he moved out of his line of sight. The Asgardian had been told that Laufey could not harm him, but he was still wary of the mercurial Jotunn.
"I would have your children thrown from the highest cliff into jagged pits of ice," th king continued smoothly, watching Thor's stiffening form, "I would have your slow death relived everyday from here to the end of eternity for the humiliation your arrogance and disrespect has suffered my people."
The circle steadily shrank around the planted prisoner until the Frost King was directly behind him and he stopped. Thor felt the icy presence at his back.
"But I cannot do that," Laufey continued, "I have a truce with your King Loki and the peace between our two realms hangs on my not killing you."
Thor felt a sharp icy claw trail down the side of his neck and winced through the biting sting.
"As tempting as it may be."
"Then as you cannot kill me," Thor gritted out, "what service may I be ?" The blonde Odinson had grown more patient over the recent years but he was not one for games. He would do his duty to the realm and be done with it. The quicker the better. He expected the grudging Frost Giant to try to rattle him and Thor knew he had earned it, but he was ready for his punishment. He was ready to atone for what he had done and all the suffering he had caused. Anything was better than the wait. The cold was sinking in and Thor feared he would soon be shaking visibly.
"So rushed, Odinson." Laufey's hiss was near his ear now, and Thor held his jaw, " I must return you by mid-cycle. If I cannot give you a slow death, trust I will make this last."
A chill ran through the warrior then and it wasn't the cold. His senses spiked as he felt the calculating presence at his back go silent and fix on him.
Suddenly, the wide arms of Laufey swarmed around the broad warrior. Thor whipped into action, hips bucking and legs kicking. One large blue hand clasped the Asgardian over his roaring mouth like an ice muzzle and the other encased him around both arms and middle. Thor thrashed so wildly that he didn't hear the whisper next to his ear at first.
"Such horrors I would rain upon your shining city," the cruel voice rasped and Thor bucked and twisted, "such beautiful screams I would wring from its people. But as it is, I have only the golden boy."
Thor felt his skin going numb where the Jotunn latched onto him.
"And my, how golden he is," Laufey breathed a deep laugh, "I will have to make do."
Thor was enraged and thrash with all his might and suddenly he was released from the giant's embrace. He stumbled out of the Jotunn's grasp and backed away until there was a wide berth between them. He kept his eye on the king. He was panting from the struggle but brought up his fists and steadied himself, ready to fight.
King Laufey stared back at Thor and began laughing openly at him, as if he were only teasing the rattled former-prince.
"What is this?" Thor breathed, eyes darting around as he scanned his surroundings for an apparent ambush. His hair and under-linings were rustled and strands of his golden hair webbed across his flushed face and clung to his panting mouth.
Laufey eyed his incensed prisoner intently and began moving forward.
"Easy, golden one," the king cooed. He advanced on the tense god, like a wolf. Thor was the doomed lamb. With every step forward Laufey took, Thor stepped backward. He was being herded.
The Asgardian was in a rut.
He did not have his hammer. He did not have his hammer and he was alone in Jotunheim with King Laufey. It was clear to Thor then. It was a false truce. Laufey had fooled them all.
Thor nearly stumbled over something behind him as he blindly backed further from his advancing foe but was able to catch and steady himself.
How could the Son of Odin have been so blind. Thor could have laughed at the poetry of it all. He would pay for his crimes to Jotunheim and the shame he'd cost his people and he would pay with his life, here today. Laufey had agreed to the terms of peace but had never really wanted peace to begin with. How stupid they had been, Thor cursed. Now, the Jotunn would have a dead God of Thunder and the war he'd always wanted and it had all been handed to him on a plate.
Thor's eyes almost welled and he sucked in panicked breaths through gritted teeth.
"So you will kill me then," he said softly, and his voice was almost a whisper. He knew the answer.
The giant said nothing but continued to follow the warrior as he backed away.
Thor seethed at the silent giant.
"You will strip me of my armor and then attack me." he growled, voice rising, "What of your honor, Frost Giant?"
Thor did not see where he was going and backed through the opening to another room. He fought the urge to look around his new surroundings for fear of taking his eyes off the monster. He panted clouds of vapor and held both fists close.
"Is that what you think I will do, Son of Odin?"
The giant's ominous figure was draped in shadow as he followed Thor into the next room.
Thor's thoughts raced as he tried to process what was happening and he didn't see that he'd come to the end of the line. There was a dull thud and Thor turned swiftly to see he'd backed into an enormous black table in what looked like a large council room.
When Thor turned back to the giant, Laufey was much closer. The cornered Asgardian looked up into the black, alien eyes of the Jotunn King and all at once he understood.
Laufey took a final step forward.
The counsel room was large with a tall domed ceiling. The walls were sharp, reflective rock. The long angular table that stretched along the center of the room was smooth onyx and shone severely in the cold white lighting.
The sounds of deep, wrenching grunts and the dull thud of firm Asgardian skin slapping against the onyx table surface echoed feebly but would not leave the dense room.
Fists clenched and sweat born of a futile struggle left smeared wet swipes across the gleaming table top that would dissipate seconds later in the cold, dry air.
Large, shimmering, icy hands wrapped powerfully around warm, muscled wrists and held the bucking body prone. The remainder of the Asgardian's clothes were shoved aside and firm, peach flesh was exposed to the arctic, biting air.
A deep, feral voice cracked as it hurled curses and futile threats and choked screams.
A full cycle in Jotunheim was seven Asgardian days. It was four Asgardian days later when King Loki and his men arrived on the frozen planet to collect their former prince.
Thor was standing between two large Jotunn guards when the small group of Asguardians clad in gleaming armor approached and escorted him away.
A few more words were passed between the two kings before they departed back to Asgard.
"Your realm thanks you, Thor Odinson."
Thor did not avoid his brother's gaze now as he stood before the throne but Loki noticed that the eternal fire that was once home in those lively blue irises had cooled some. There was little more now to be found in those eyes and in Thor's stance than total exhaustion. He had surrendered. Or he no longer cared enough. He had lost something in Jotunheim and Loki had yet to measure the permanence of it's absence.
The King held Thor's gaze for a moment longer. Waiting for something perhaps. Thor offered nothing.
Having nothing more to say, Loki dismissed his travel-wearied brother, but not before expressing his gratitude for his deeds, impressing upon him the good it did for continuing positive relations with Jotunheim.
Thor bowed his head, then turned to returned to his quarters.
Loki watched his brother leave the chamber, noting an unusual stiffness in his stride.
Loki seemed to always have a keen sense of where his brother was, and knew that evening that he would find the blond Odinson in their father's tomb.
Thor was kneeling silently by the large golden casket as he often did when he visited the underground chamber tucked away in the lower levels of the palace. Loki observed the caped, hunched figure from the shadows. The God of Mischief could go unnoticed if he wanted and often observed his brother without the other knowing it. Tonight however, The King sought to speak with his evasive subject.
"I thought I might find you here," Loki said, gliding over to where the armored warrior knelt by the single great golden casket in the otherwise vacant room.
Thor rose to his feet in a gesture of respect and gave a small nod, but did not otherwise address his king.
Loki followed the other's gaze over the great, opulent casket and the together the two brothers stood silently over their father's grave for a time.
Finally Loki said softly, "you seem to be in one piece," his eyes wandered over the armored body that indeed looked in-tact on the surface.
Thor gave a tired, "it is done," before turning to leave the tomb.
"Thor." Loki called after him. The King waited until the blonde turned around to face him, "It is not, I'm afraid."
Thor waited for elaboration and his eyes were unblinking.
"As part of our agreement with Jotunheim, you are to attend reoccurring rehabilitation sessions with King Laufey until he sees the debt repaid."
Thor's breath caught.
"Loki," he managed to choke out in a barely audible breath.
"Thor," Loki interjected firmly, "I trust I do not have to impress upon you again that it is your duty to Asgard."
"No," Thor said at once, and he looked almost hurt, "I will do my duty to Asgard."
Loki's chest swelled but he held the stern look on his brother, even as his limping figure moved to leave the chamber.
"Father would be proud," Loki called after the slumped form.
Thor paused for only a moment at the door, head bowed "Thank you, Loki." came the low, genuine response, and The God of Thunder left the chamber.
Loki watched his brother off then left the tomb himself without a second glance back to the gleaming golden casket.
Poor Thor.
As the God of Mischief strolled back to his own quarters, he wondered how his brother would sleep tonight. He wondered if he ached. He wondered if he wept.
A slender hand combed through sleek, black hair and Loki felt a pulling regret in his chest.
If only he could have seen it.
The new Allfather sucked in a lungful of air through his nose as his eyes drifted shut. Instantly, his mind swam with flashing images and scenes that warmed his body and sent tingles down his spine which dove and coiled in his stomach.
He imagined the look on Thor's face when it dawned on the former prince what was about to happen. He imagined the clinging hope, as he fought back at first, only to be quickly bested without his dearest hammer and Warriors Three; Loki imagined the sorrow and hurt when he finally realized there was no stopping it and that the once-beloved prince of Asgard was truly and completely alone.
How he wished he could have seen it.
It must have been a shock, Loki mused, to feel the sting of loss, to finally know what it was to be inferior. What a sight to behold, Loki couldn't suppress a smile, the breaking of the God of Thunder.
Did he beg, Loki wondered and his heart lept. How long was it before he gave up struggling against the giant and finally laid down and took it? He wondered if there were tears. How loud he must have screamed! Loki's mind still clung to the gravelly whispers to which Thor's voice had been reduced after they retrieved him from Jotunheim. He'd seemed so small and frail then. He would not look at his brother nor any of the guards.
How he longed to be the one to unravel the warrior.
Perhaps Loki would go to Thor's bed chambers later and make him show him the wounds. He would have the shaken Asgardian strip and watch the last of his resolve crumble as his mind brought him back to the helplessness he'd felt at the hands of King Laufey. Loki would watch every inch of the trembling flesh as it was exposed to him and make his brother wait and feel the open air until he couldn't stand his prying eyes. He would mend the abused warrior with probing fingers—one, two, then three- and lap up every choked groan and gasp the contact wrung from his wrecked throat. He would leave him then and perhaps even kiss his blonde head goodnight, and Thor would even thank him for his aid and cover himself up because he was ashamed.
Loki's body hummed at the scene but he was only imagining it. He could not interfere, not yet. The king had to keep a distance between himself and the outcast prince.
What kept Loki at bay was the utter loyalty of his dear brother. The man would do anything for him, Loki was sure now. Thor feared disappointing him. Him. Loki knew the look of shame in the warrior's eyes because he'd felt it himself in his brother's own shadow and in the dismissive eyes of their father. He knew well what it was to want to please- to twist and bend and break for approval. And he knew what it was to come up short.
But Odin was gone. Dead. And Loki was King now. He ruled the realm and everything inside. He ruled Thor.
And Thor trusted his brother, his king. He looked at Loki with such unwavering devotion, something Loki had not expected after his exile and Loki's subsequent rise to the throne. But it was there just the same. Thor admired him, wanted to please him, to prove himself.
Loki knew he could not sacrifice the way Thor looked at him. He would crush Thor in his hands and hear every break if he thought it wouldn't ruin everything. But he knew, if he did that, Thor would no longer trust him, would no longer take leaps and strides to please him. So Loki had to be gentle with Thor. He had to take it slow.
He would play the part of the dutiful King for now, keep Thor fighting for approval. He would leave the breaking to Laufey and soon- very soon, Thor would come to him.