Loki kept himself on his absolute best behaviour for days, choking down what he could stomach, and actually getting work done in the evenings instead of ruining his bedding. He bathed for the first time in over a week, and spent so much time in the water he fell asleep there. But he needed to be of clear mind, and unlikely to be caught in a compromising position if he needed to mount a sudden defense of his actions. It seemed he wasn’t eating either way, so he figured he might as well spend his time in ways he enjoyed, rather than ways that made him feel like he was losing his mind.
With each day that passed without being dragged back down to the dungeons, Loki grew more and more confident that he had indeed got lucky. This time, Thor did not need to know about it. As far as Thor was concerned, his mistake on Midgard had been the last. And yet, Thor still dragged him from bed in the early hours of the morning, and neglected him to the guards until he was ready to escort Loki back. He tried exactly once to convince Thor to let a guard escort him back, but Thor seemed certain that a change in the routine would only make Odin suspicious that something had happened.
And as several somethings had indeed happened, Loki was for once willing to heed Thor’s advice. Rather than trying to find another way out, he simply started bringing the rest of his work with him so he’d have something to do while he waited for Thor. After about two days of returning to his chambers clear-headed, but too hungry to focus on his other projects, and too disgusted to eat more than a few bites of anything, Loki gave up on best behaviour. Best behaviour didn’t pay off as well as he’d always been told it would.
Once he finished hearing the day’s requests, Loki transitioned to his audits and reports, skipping his afternoon dose of his potion. Still, he had it with him, because he intended to try something slightly different. Even with the added workload, Loki still finished everything before Thor came to fetch him, and he wished he’d thought to grab a book as well. Finally, Thor arrived, and Loki leapt to his feet, eager to get back to his chambers.
“What do you have to be so excited about?” Thor asked, grabbing hold of him to lead him away.
“I’m starving,” Loki said. “And I could do in two hours what you do in a day. Why does it take you so long?”
“It takes me so long because I don’t skip the parts I deem boring,” Thor said.
Loki looked over at him, frowning deeply. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said.
“I’d rather be a terrible liar than whatever you are,” Thor said.
Loki rolled his eyes, and braced for the worst as they wandered the more crowded areas. The scent hit him harder than he expected, but he kept his gaze locked forward, determined to break the habit of trying to find the source. Still, Thor noticed and gripped him more tightly and picked up his pace. Loki should have felt humiliated by it, but he was glad Thor didn’t make him suffer by lingering. As soon as Thor left Loki in his chambers, he fell back into an all-too familiar routine, shedding his clothes on the way to his bed. Before he climbed onto it, he managed to summon the potion he’d stored away and tossed it down onto the blankets. Hoping he’d be able to find it when he wanted it later, he scrabbled with his bedding to create something mountable. Using his hand and his own weight, he had found a way to bury his cock between the blankets and pillows, while his hand provided a bit more pressure when he needed it most. If he couldn’t have a body beneath him, this came close enough to acceptable.
He had lost all shame about it. He grunted and keened loudly, trying to coax himself to completion when even this was not quite enough. He screamed in frustration, not even bothering to silence himself when he heard his door opening at the corridor. The servant who brought his meals never dared walk in on him, and Loki didn’t care what he heard. He didn’t care who was in the courtyard below, or what they thought when he forgot to muffle himself against the bedding. It was no longer a secret that he was a feral beast, and he saw no point in continuing to pretend he was anything else. He spent most nights sleeping in his own filth, starving half to death because he couldn’t take his hand off his own cock for ten minutes to eat something. Thor was right. He would rut himself to death, and the realm would be better for it.
Loki had at least hoped that the time spent with his senses dulled might have him more sensitive without the potion. But his hand was no longer enough. His bedding was no longer enough. He couldn’t arrange any of it in a way to convince himself he was doing anything other than rutting against a mound of blankets and pillows. He needed something real. He needed something that moved beneath him, whether or not it was receptive to him. He no longer cared, or even bothered to pretend that the imaginary person beneath him was willing.
He hitched himself up, angling his ass higher into the air, with his face falling against the bed. He could barely breathe like this, and it was while he gasped and choked for air that he finally found release, like a familiar punch in the gut. His body didn’t want to be in this hidden form. His cock couldn’t expand, doing more to resist release than the knowledge that he was rutting against a pillow. But even as his hips continued to work through his spend, Loki shakily searched through the blankets around him, finding his potion. If he was quick, it just might work. Inhaling the jelly was almost impossible as he still panted and gasped for air, but it was enough to keep him from immediately rising again at whatever scents drifted through his windows. It allowed him to get up onto shaky legs and shed his breeches entirely. His cock was still half hard and aching, still not properly sated as he forced himself out to the antechamber to collect what was left for him. He picked up the tray from where it had been left on the table and sat on the floor, the cold stone stinging his bare ass.
He was able to get about halfway through his meal before he could no longer taste it, which was still more than he’d been able to eat all week. Even without being able to taste what was on his plate, he managed to choke down the rest of it before his cock got in his way again. He tossed the tray aside and took himself in hand, trying it the old-fashioned way. But his cock wanted to be buried. It wanted to be swollen and aching, so stiff it would break before it bent.
Loki managed to haul himself to his feet, cock still in hand. He continued to stroke himself even as he made his way back to his bed, letting his disguise drop. His plan hadn’t worked, but he knew what would. He mounted his bedding again, pressing his painfully hard dick between layers of pillows and blankets. He got up on his knees, and used his hands to press down hard on the bedding as he rutted into it. He imagined he had some woman before him, on her knees with her ass in the air, begging for his seed. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to picture it before him, imagining he could hear her crying out. But the sounds that echoed in his ears weren’t the sounds of someone who wanted him. He heard the women who cried and screamed beneath him, and he hated that it was imagining repeating those horrors once more that made his cock swell. He shoved his fist into his mouth and screamed against it, hating himself and everything he did in the name of release. In the name of pleasure.
Even like this, it wasn’t pleasure felt when he spent again, this time in a long stream. It was shame and guilt and regret. He had to replay the worst nights of his life for his cock to work, and even then he took no pleasure from it.
Finally spent and exhausted, he rolled over onto his back and looked at the ceiling above.
He was a monster. He was disgusting. All he ever did was hurt people. But whether it was the potion, or whatever it was about his swollen cock that made him numb, he finally began to calm down. He wouldn’t rut himself to death, run ragged from exhaustion because he could not force himself to stop. He’d just rut himself into a stupor. Eventually, he stopped panting and trembling, and was able to get himself comfortable in bed. Rather than getting any work done, he simply rolled over and fell asleep.
Loki finally found a routine that worked, and it made him sick to even think about it. It took two days for Thor to figure out it had meant Loki had found some new low to sink to, when Loki was practically drooling by the time Thor left him in the evenings, and sleeping soundly when Thor returned to fetch him in the morning. But it worked, and that was all that mattered. Rather than rutting into his blankets until he was exhausted, Loki took his true form and rutted until his cock swelled and expanded, and he was blessed with the calm clarity that followed. He got his work done, and even with his dick permanently aching and in the way, and dripping lazily for hours, he managed to find time for his other projects. Without the lingering guilt and fear following him, he realised his senses stayed dulled well into the next day. He could have breakfast at his own pace, without his dick getting in the way, and do much of his work before he began to find himself distracted. He knew it was only a matter of time before it went wrong, and Thor either paid an unexpected visit, or he took too long to finish and was still hard and swollen in the morning. But that was a problem for the future. For now, he ruined blankets and pillows each night, and never once thought about what happened to them, or who had to deal with them. He knew it would be obvious to anyone with a brain what he was doing to them, but he had run out of the ability to care. A few ruined pillows were an acceptable price to pay to be able to eat a full meal and have a clear mind each evening.
The rare days where Odin had nothing planned for Loki were the only days he ever truly felt like himself. Those were the only days he ever felt like he belonged within civilised society. On those days, he stayed in his chambers and got all the work done he wasn’t able to to do while distracted by Odin’s irritating tasks. He got to enjoy breakfast before taking a potion that dulled his senses. He was able to bathe and take care of his appearance. He got to enjoy supper without spending an hour rutting into a pillow first. He craved more days like that, but they were so few and far between, random surprises after days of behaving like an animal because he couldn’t stop himself.
It was on such a day, as Loki napped quietly in the warm afternoon sun, that Odin deigned to pay him a visit. Loki woke with a start as his chamber door opened, and Odin let himself in. He paused at the threshold and looked around the room, his face completely unreadable. Loki didn’t get service on the days he was locked up in isolation, so his bedding was still tangled and tossed to the floor, stained and stinking from what he had done to it the previous night. If Odin were unaware of what Loki did each night, it would be a miracle. But unlike Thor, he at least had the tact to pretend he didn’t see the evidence of it before him.
At first, Loki thought Odin had finally found out, either about the Midgardian woman, or the servant. But he said nothing, waiting for Odin to address him so he didn’t inadvertently offer forward brand new information.
“There’s trouble brewing in Álfheimr,” Odin said.
Neither Loki’s usual tasks, nor his daily distraction typically kept him engrossed in the politics of other realms. He was brought in on those matters only when his expertise or insight was needed.
“Is there now?” he asked, sitting up a little bit straighter.
“Nothing significant, as yet,” Odin said. “But for insurance, I’d like to know what we need to be prepared for.”
Loki nodded. “I’d need access to the library,” he said.
He had a great deal of books and resources in his chambers, but not nearly enough to compile a report in preparation for a potential war.
“I thought you might say that,” Odin said.
He looked around the room again, scrutinising details a little more openly this time. As he turned to the desk, he picked up one of the ceramic pots that held his potion, and opened the lid to peer inside.
“You’re nearly out,” he said.
“I have more,” Loki said.
Humming, Odin put it back in its place. “Just as well,” he said. “I’m sending Thor to Álfheimr tomorrow. A month ago, I might have been hesitant to do so, but I think you’ve proven yourself, and earned a bit more freedom.”
Loki tried not to let his surprise show. He had raped two women, and convinced Thor to help him cover one of them up. The only thing he’d proven was that he was a menace, and that he’d earned a permanent place in the dungeons.
“I’d like that,” he said.
Odin nodded slowly. “You can have visitors, but no women. And as long as you’re in public, I don’t see the need to have you chaperoned.”
Loki nodded. “Can I please stop hearing requests?” he asked. “All it does is distract me from my other work, and I’d much rather be locked up than be made to do that.”
Odin chuckled quietly. “I suppose if you’ve earned anything, it’s that.”
“Thank you,” Loki said, liking the sound of that better than than being told he no longer needed Thor bruising his arms day in and day out.
“Now get me that report,” Odin said, already turning to the door.
Loki waited for him to leave before climbing out of bed to dress. He took the time to fix his hair and find something he could be seen in public wearing. Even though he didn’t think he needed it, Loki inhaled more of his potion and took it with him just in case he got caught up and stayed too long.
It had been months since he’d last been in the library. His alcove seemed to have been left untouched, but looking at it, all he could think about was how he’d wanted to bend that poor girl over the desk right there.
Shoving it all from his mind, Loki strode off to find what he needed, taking several trips to bring it all back to the desk. As he sat behind it, looking out at the shelves in front of him, he waited for something to happen, as though afraid his dick might suddenly and violently demand attention. But it didn’t, and he couldn’t even smell the ink and parchment surrounding him, so he trusted everything was well and got to work.
He worked for hours, compiling a report on Álfar magic, and where Asgardian defenses lacked against it. This was the work he was supposed to be doing. This was the work he had spent years training and studying for. Twice as he worked, he caught a scent in the air, but with something meaningful in front of him, the urge to get his work done overpowered his drive to let a tickle become a problem. He simply used his potion again and got on with it. By the time he finished, the sky had darkened, and supper had come and gone. Knowing he could have something sent up to him, Loki rolled all the parchment sheets together and got up to find Odin. At a certain point in the evening, banquet always seemed to transition to an impromptu mead hall, where half the palace gathered. Loki stopped to peer inside, just in case Odin still lingered, but it wasn’t Odin he saw. He caught Thor’s eye, and for a moment they both stared at one another. Then, Thor was on his feet and striding toward Loki with murder in his eyes.
“What the hel are you doing?” he asked, grabbing hold of Loki.
“I’ve been released. Don’t touch me,” he said, trying to shake himself free.
Thor held on even tighter. “I’d like to hear that from Father,” he said, already dragging him away.
“Oh, convenient,” said Loki. He shifted his scrolls to the other hand so Thor didn’t accidentally crush them. “That’s just who I was trying to find.”
He let himself be dragged through the corridors to Odin’s hall, playing up a stumble as Thor pulled him through the threshold.
“Did you forget to tell my jailer I’ve been freed?” Loki asked, finally shaking Thor off of him.
Odin looked up at the scene before him, wearing the most fake expression of surprise Loki had ever seen.
“It must have slipped my mind,” he said.
Both Loki and Thor took a moment to just let that hang in the air.
“And people wonder where I get it,” Loki said, stepping forward and holding up his scrolls. “The Álfheimr report.”
He put them down on the table before Odin. Nodding, Odin reached for it and unfurled them, letting each sheet fall to table.
“Very good,” he said, looking the top sheet over. After a moment, he put it down and looked up at Thor. “You had better go pack.”
Thor threw his hands into the air and turned away, leaving Odin and Loki alone. Loki watched him stride away, waiting until he was out of earshot before turning to close the door.
“We have a few gaps in our defenses, but nothing terribly frightening,” Loki said. “Since it’s Álfheimr we’re talking about, I think we can safely disregard everything on page four. They theoretically have those capabilities, but their own law forbids the teaching or practise of any of it.”
Odin shuffled through the parchment until he came to the correct page.
“I see,” he said. “And your recommendation?”
“Offer Jarldom to expatriated elves who enlist and prove proficiency,” Loki said. “We still have large tracts of land in the south that remain unworked. It would fill the gaps in our ranks, and show a willingness on our part to allow social mobility to outsiders.”
Odin gathered up all of sheets of parchment and stacked them neatly. “Good,” he said, looking up at Loki directly. “It’s good to have you back. It’s been far too long that I’ve had to listen to a bunch of half-senile old fools confuse me for my father and call it intelligence.”
Loki allowed himself a brief chuckled. “I didn’t ask to listen to requests. That was your idea.”
“Yes, yes. You’ve said that already,” Odin said, waving Loki away.
Loki threw as much sarcasm as he could into bowing before turning to go find some way to spend the rest of his evening. He got no further than turning the first corner before Thor ambushed him, grabbing him by the neck and holding him against the wall, holding him just tightly enough to be a threat.
“If it were up to me, you’d never be allowed out for as long as you live,” Thor said.
Loki took a moment to consider him.
“Then it’s a good thing it’s not up to you, isn’t it?” he said.
“I regret every day not telling him,” Thor said. “You don’t deserve this. I want nothing more than to be wrong about you, but I know that I’m not.”
Loki breathed deeply, knowing that any defense he made would only further drive Thor’s outrage.
“I’ll let you swing the axe yourself, if you’d like” Loki said. “But I think I’d rather go to bed.”
Thor let go of him, stepping back with a deep scowl. “I hope you rut yourself to death,” he said.
Sick of repeating this conversation, Loki stepped to the side and strode away before Thor could change his mind about letting him go. He was still dulled and numbed from his potion, and when he returned to his chambers he wasn’t even in the mood to try to eat supper. He’d grown so used to getting by on scraps that he barely even noticed he’d skipped a meal again. This time as he shed his clothing on the way to his bedchamber, it was a slow, deliberate action as he readied himself for bed.