I have no idea what I'm doing

Tag: fic: Starve to Death with Dignity

Starve to Death with Dignity #5

Loki didn’t expect Thor to fetch him the following morning, and didn’t get out of bed because of it.  Images of the previous day were still burned in his memory, of a terrified and screaming woman being held down by the hands of a monster.  His hands, blue and marked.  He could still see his cock inside her, swollen and deformed so neither of them could escape.

Sickeningly, he thought Odin had known that would happen.  Why else would he have released his spell and allowed Loki control over which form he took?  Which meant Odin must have known Loki would not be able to control himself.  Otherwise, Loki knew he never would have stopped.  He would have raped that woman repeatedly, again and again until he collapsed of exhaustion.  With Odin’s magic lifted, once Loki’s cock had swollen and spilled, he had gone completely numb to not only her scent, but her body.  As horrible as it must have been to be tied to him for hours, at least it had not been hours spent screaming because he would not stop.

But did Odin truly know that when Loki did finally lose control, he would wind up tied to his victim not for a few minutes, but for hours?  Was the entire idea to allow Loki to so thoroughly traumatise someone to ensure he was caught in the act?  It must have been.  Otherwise, there was no telling what Loki might have been able to get away with.  Had the whole thing only lasted minutes, Loki could have left Midgard and been back in his chambers before Thor even noticed him absent.  And the thought made Loki sick.

He had been so careful.  So deliberate.  What he had done to Freyja was unforgivable, and he had been stopped.  He had sworn that he would be able to remove himself from any dangerous situations, and instead he had deliberately sought one out.  He had held that girl down as she screamed, the sound still echoing in his ears.  He could have apologised to her a million more times, but it changed nothing.  She had been sacrificed to a monster, and she would give birth to a monster that would grow up to rape every woman in that village.

Loki studied the lines on his flesh, expecting to find they were sensitive somehow.  Every freckle and mark on his flesh was exactly where he expected it to be, only now in a blue so deep it was almost black.  They didn’t look like the hands of a monster.  They were still his, just in the wrong colour.  But they were the hands of a monster, because he was a monster.  A horrible monster that did unforgivable things.

When his chamber door open, Loki looked up to find Thor carrying a large basket.  He set it down on Loki’s desk and turned, scowling deeply at Loki.

“Take it and get dressed,” he said.

Loki could not believe he was still allowed to leave his chambers.  He had thought for certain Thor would have only omitted the worst details.  But if Loki was still allowed out, then it was clear he had told Odin nothing.  He got slowly to his feet and moved to his desk to fetch his potion.  If his dick behaved differently in his true form, Loki wondered if the potion might work differently as well.  As he inhaled it, it burned like it never had before, drawing a stifled cry from him.  Trying to breathe through his mouth to recover, he looked up at Thor.  But if he was expecting to find any sympathy at all, he was sorely disappointed.  Thor continued to level his sour glare at Loki, even as he pointed at the basket he’d brought with him.

“What about these?” he asked.

Loki sniffed harshly, trying to work the potion through his sinuses as much as possible.

“This one,” he said, lifting a bottle from the basket, “prevents me from acting on any urge at all, and the other one puts me in a coma.”

He replaced the bottle and turned to get dressed.

“And given that you’re here, I’m assuming I’m wanted somewhere, making either of those a poor choice for the moment.”

Thor grumbled, and Loki ignored him.  He dressed and disguised himself, and let Thor drag him by the arm through the palace.  He only learned after that Odin hadn’t any work at all for him, and was instead dragged around to all of Thor’s appointments.  While Loki’s tasks were usually diplomatic in nature, Thor’s were a more hands on.  He had to sit around watching Thor training in the ring, or helping to break horses for mount.  With so much going on around him, Loki wasn’t willing to take any chances.  Every time he found his mind even starting to wander, he renewed his potion.  When Thor was finally done for the day, Loki expected to be returned to his chambers, as usual.  Instead, Thor seemed reluctant to allow him to be alone for any longer than necessary, and dragged him to banquet instead.  With so much of Eir’s potion up his nose, Loki could barely breathe clearly, much less enjoy anything in front of him, but that wasn’t the worst part of being dragged over to the table.

It was their friends.

The friends Thor must have surely lied to.

Loki expected Thor’s critical glare mirrored on their faces, but instead he was met with the same cautious wariness he had been met with the day previous. 

“I didn’t know throwing stones was so tiring,” Fandral said as Loki got settled amongst them.

“You have no idea,” Loki said.

He didn’t need to pry any further.  He could guess Thor’s story already, that he had gone back home to rest. 

Beside him, Thor piled food onto a plate, and dropped it in front of Loki.

“Eat,” he said stiffly.

Sighing, Loki looked down at it.  A moment later, Thor put a cup of ale in front of him as well.  He was starving.  He hadn’t eaten in two days, but everything before him may as well have been made of stone for all it was appetising.  Hoping he was hungry enough to get past it all, he tore off a small piece of meat and tried it.  Smaller pieces were better, at least, though still not great.  It was as though his body wanted to reject it for not knowing what it was.  As he chewed, Loki realised he actually did not know what it was.  He thought it might be goat, but he was nowhere even close to certain about it.

“What’s the matter?” Volstagg asked, watching him pick at his plate.  “Lost your appetite for food as well as fighting?”

Loki snorted.  “I’m surprised you know what it looks like,” he said.

The others laughed, and for some reason, that surprised him.  He didn’t want to be there at all, but he didn’t dare try to rush Thor along either.  His entire future hinged on Thor agreeing to lie for him, and Thor could change his mind about it at any moment.  So he choked on food his body didn’t want, and let Thor take all the time he wanted.  It quickly became clear that Thor’s intent was to keep Loki up long enough so the only thing he wanted to do upon returning to his chambers was go to sleep.  But he had other work to do, and it wasn’t going to get done watching his brother drunk himself into a stupor.

Finally, as Loki worried he might fall asleep right there at the table, Thor stood.  Not even waiting for Loki to get himself orientated, Thor pulled him to his feet and began dragging him back through the palace.  If it was Thor’s plan to bore Loki to exhaustion, it had worked.  He had never been so tired from a day of doing nothing.  As they reached his chambers, Loki stopped at the door to face Thor.

“If tomorrow is to be a repeat of today, I would much rather spend it in isolation,” he said.

Thor nodded.  “Have it your way,” he said.

Thor closed the door between them, leaving Loki to his own thoughts.  Despite the audits piled on his desk, Loki ignored it all and collapsed onto his bed.

He woke the next morning, uncertain whether to expect Thor.  When, after an hour of lounging in bed, Thor did not appear, Loki assumed that meant he had the day to himself.  He cleaned himself up and dressed for the day, called for a rare breakfast.  Having to go through his days on Thor’s schedule meant it had been months since he’d eaten more than one meal, and he had dearly missed spending his mornings going over his audits in bed with a bowl of fruit and fried eggs and bread.  Once he was finished with his meal, he used his potion and moved over to his desk.  He had been neglecting his personal studies, having no time for any of it.  His days had been so packed full of distractions to keep his mind away from his own prick that the things he enjoyed being distracted by had taken a back seat.

With his attention buried in journals and grimoires, that rising itch wasn’t something he wanted to entertain.  The decision to block it out before it became a problem was easier when spending an hour rutting in bed would get in the way of his fun, rather than a distraction from dull tedium.

It was a full week before Thor finally came to fetch him again, and Loki was almost disappointed for it.  It had been a full week without ruining pillows, and the crushing shame that followed.  A full week where his prick did not occupy the majority of his thoughts.  A full week of being able to enjoy meals, and sleep when he wanted.

So of course Thor had to ruin it by wanting to drag him through the palace.

“You look different,” Thor said as he watched Loki drag himself out of bed to get ready.

“Yes, about that,” he said, realising that taking his potion meant he wouldn’t get breakfast.  “As much as I enjoy watching all my friends eat until they burst and drink themselves stupid, I would prefer to eat alone.  I do have other work, and I can’t get it done if I’m kept out all hours of the night.”

Thor grumbled, but nodded.  “You’re right,” he said.  “It’s better that way.”

Loki agreed, though perhaps not for the same reasons.  Nodding, he began to dress.

“What am I doing today?” he asked.

“Hearing requests,” Thor said.

Loki would have preferred to be locked in an empty room, but he said nothing.  He dressed and let himself be led through the palace in an iron grip, resigned to being treated like a criminal.  If anything, he deserved it, because he was a criminal.  Even if his full list of deeds was known only between the two of them, Loki knew it would all get out eventually, so he might as well get used to it.

He got through the requests with such speed that he was left waiting in the throne room for hours before Thor finally arrived.  Thor had given him his evenings, which was more than Loki had hoped.  He wasn’t even going to try to get his shortcut back.  But he intended to eat a meal and enjoy it, so he had not used his potion again.  As he rose to his feet, Thor looked him over with a critical frown and took him by the arm so hard, Loki thought it might bruise.  He tried to squirm away, but Thor only held tighter.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Thor said.

“What am I doing?” asked Loki.

Thor led him toward the corridor, pulling him along with alarming speed.  “I know you’ve not used your drug.  And I know what you do when you return to your chambers.”

The worst part was that Loki wasn’t looking forward to it.  He had enjoyed being able to spend his evenings in peace, but those days were gone.  Despite their speed, Loki still caught a scent in the air, and it was clear Thor had noticed.  His grip tightened further, and his speed increased.  When they reached Loki’s chambers, Thor shoved him inside, leaving him alone without a single parting word.

Loki shed his topcoat and boots on the way to his bed, hands trembling and knees weak.  He hated this.  He hated that he knew exactly how to arrange his bedding so he could get the best pleasure from mounting it.  He hated that he knew exactly how to use his hand to provide better pressure.  He hated that he now knew that the reason he always felt as though his cock might burst open was because it was trying to.  As he unlaced his breeches and climbed into bed, Loki let his disguise drop.  If he was going to make a mess of himself, it might as well have been worth it.

He arranged everything and mounted it, and was almost furious to find it better this way.  He pressed his cock against the pillow between his thighs, feeling the way it slid beneath him as he rutted and whimpered into a pile of linen and furs.  He wrapped his free arm around another pillow, exactly as he had the girl in the village, pretending he was holding her close against him.  It still wasn’t good enough, and still he wanted more.  He needed more.  He had caught that scent as they walked through the corridor, but it had faded.  It wasn’t the girl’s cunt that had made him spill, but her scent and her taste.  And without that, he was missing half the equation. 

Still, he could feel his cock swelling beneath his hand, growing larger and harder by the second.  Soon, it no longer dragged across the linen, providing friction.  The entire pillow moved with him, and it was as though he had hit a wall.  It wasn’t enough, and with his face buried in blankets, he screamed in frustration.  He tried using his hand, wrapping his fingers around the shaft and rutting into it, but the skin on his cock was tight and taut.  It couldn’t glide freely over the shaft as it usually did, and he could feel that the tip was totally exposed.  He focused on that, holding his fingers in a loose ring and working just the sensitive tip. 

Still, his lust only grew, never reaching that crest.  Rutting and grunting into his bedding, Loki worried that now that he knew the real thing, he would never find satisfaction on his own.  His cock grew and grew until it hurt, and he wept as despite everything, he could not force himself to stop.  He rutted harder and harder, faster and faster, using his fingers and his palm in every way he could imagine.  His body ached, and his throat grew raw, and still he needed more.  Still he could not stop.  His cock had grown so large that it pressed into him, hard and painful and unmoving no matter how much he moved.  He muffled cries and screams, and for some reason he thought of the girl beneath him, screaming as he filled her.  The sound rang in his ears, and consumed him with horror as he finally spilled. He continued to rut through his spend, not slowing for a moment even as he wept from knowing why he had finally found release.

When he finally managed to roll onto his back, his face was hot and wet.  He tried to wipe his tears away with his hands, but it seemed they would never stop.  He was truly a monster, and he would never understood why Thor had agreed to lie for him.  He didn’t deserve it.  He deserved to be locked in a cage, destined for the axe.

As he calmed down, he realised he had a new problem.  His cock was painfully large, and he knew already that he would not be able to put on a disguise with it in this state.  He looked down at it, finding it worse than he had ever imagined.  The base of his cock had formed a knot twice the size of his fist, with small ridges running along the length on either side.  He let his head fall back onto the bed as he struggled to breathe, overwhelmed by the sight of it.  He wasn’t sure which was worse; that his cock had become so deformed, or the thought of what that poor woman had to endure for hours on end.  That grotesque knot was what had tied them together.  She had to lay there for hours, unable to move with that inside of her, while he lay beside her worried about himself.

Loki was surprised he hadn’t killed her. 

He heard the door to the corridor open, and realised he had taken longer than usual.  Thor had been in the habit of giving him an hour between dropping him off and sending his supper.  Sore and exhausted, Loki scrambled to cover himself, but the blankets were all tangled beneath him, and he could not move quickly enough.

“Leave it!” he shouted.

He expected the servant to leave his meal elsewhere.  Instead, his bedchamber door opened, and Loki thought he might die of shame on the spot.  Worse, instead of a servant, Thor had chosen to deliver his meal personally.  He stood by the door, plain disgust written across his face.  Thor slowly shook his head and put the tray down on Loki’s desk, not for a moment looking away.

Loki could see him coming to the same realisation he had, seeing him laid out bare and hard, his cock still dripping slowly.  He knew he should cover himself, but Thor had seen him as he truly was, and there was nothing left to hide.

“You’re a pig, Loki,” Thor said finally.

“I know,” Loki said, barely able to put any breath behind the words.

He stared up at the ceiling, part of him hoping Thor might put him out of his misery on principle.  Rather than ending Loki’s life, Thor picked up a large book from his desk and hurled it at him so quickly, Loki barely had time to duck away.  Again, he tried to cover himself, but Thor was quicker there too.  He stepped forward and yanked a spill-soaked blanket out from beneath him and threw it on to of Loki.  Only then did Loki dare to sit up, looking away to avoid meeting Thor in the eye.

“I defended you,” Thor shouted.  “I lied for you!  I denied rumours and gossip because I believed you were better than that!”

Loki huffed and tried once again to wipe his face dry.  “Sorry to disappoint.”

Thor threw another book, striking Loki in the side of the face with it.  He flinched away a moment too late, and wished Thor would get it over with.  Shifting to sit up better, and to rearrange the blanket over his strained and aching cock, he turned to face Thor.

“This is what you’ve let yourself become?” Thor asked.

“I don’t like it either,” Loki said. 

“You would have raped Freyja with that?” Thor asked, practically spitting with every word.

“No, actually.  I didn’t know about that until Midgard,” Loki said.

Thor threw another book at him, again catching Loki in the side of the face as he flinched away.

“And the servant in the library?” Thor asked.

Loki shook his head.  “I didn’t touch her, I swear.”

Shaking his head, Thor turned his back to Loki.  With no more books on his desk, Loki thought he might be looking for something else to throw, but he stayed where he was.

“So, what?” Thor asked, leaning heavily against Loki’s desk.  “This is what you do each night?  Rut against your blankets and make a mess of everything until you pass out?  All because you’re too fussy to use the potions you’re given.”

Loki shrugged.  “It doesn’t hurt anyone,” he said.

Thor turned back toward him, taking a long stride closer.

“No,” he said.  “But if I come in here once more, and I see that,” he pointed to the tent between Loki’s thighs, “I will make sure you never use it again.  It’s not hurting anyone now, but we both know it will.”

Loki nodded, not for the first time wondering if maybe he shouldn’t just get it over with.

“You’re sick, Loki,” Thor said, turning toward the door again.  “And I fear you are beyond help.”

He strode out, boots stomping loudly across the stone floor.  Loki waited until he heard the door slam before daring to get up to fetch the meal he had been brought.  The single shred of positivity in the whole disgusting ordeal was that with his cock swollen and deformed, his body seemed to think he was locked inside a cunt.  Even though he could smell someone’s heat on the evening air, he failed to stir in response.  He was able to eat his meal and complete his work in relative peace, aside from the fact that his cock was rock hard and aching between his thighs and refusing to get out of the way as it continued to make a mess.

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Starve to Death with Dignity #4

His routine was simple.  Each morning, Loki woke and donned his disguise so he would not have to see his own flesh.  He inhaled Eir’s disgusting potion, and went with Thor to perform whatever task Odin had assigned him for the day.  Slowly, he was allowed other tasks beyond hearing requests, but none that were any more enjoyable.  Then he would wait under guard for Thor to finish his own tasks, and return to his chambers for dinner, walking the shadows so he could enjoy his meal and complete his usual work.

Some evenings, the wind was kind, and Loki enjoyed an evening with no distractions at all.  Most evenings, Loki had just enough time to finish his work before rutting against his pillows to exhaustion.  The worst nights were those when he had to drug himself to sleep, because not even exhaustion would let him stop. 

Loki had a simple choice, and he chose the option that gave him a modicum of pleasure in the evenings.  He could at least enjoy a meal and a cup of wine, if nothing else.  It hardly mattered while he was trembling and heaving against his own bedding, trying to convince himself that the mass beneath him was some faceless, nameless person.  And even then, he had choices that he ignored, because even though he took no real pleasure from rutting into his bedding like a filthy animal, some feral part of him craved and preferred it to anything and everything else.

There was, of course, a third option.  He could simply leave; cast himself into exile and avoid every other living being for the rest of his life.  It was an option he’d considered, but it seemed that at he still preferred to rut against his pillows each night like the filthy animal he was.

And then, the worst happened.  A scent he thought he was learning to recognise was heavy on the wind, and he had forgotten that he had run out of both draughts Eir had provided.  He needed only make those few steps to his desk to fetch the potion he had left there, but he had stained and soiled his pillow three times and still could not force himself to stop.  He wept silently as he rutted against his own slick and sticky mess.  His hand wasn’t enough.  His pillows weren’t enough.  He was no longer able to convince himself that he was in bed with a partner.  His cock knew he spilled onto linen, and would continue to torture him until it was buried deep inside someone.

He no longer even had seed to spill, and still his cock craved more.  Still that scent hung heavily on the wind, driving him to madness. 

It was the first night his body gave out before his feral lust.  He fell asleep, still rutting against his pillows, his cock hard and demanding.  He woke late the next morning, naked atop a tangled mess of bedding and pillows and covered in his own filth, while his cock still craved more.  His disguise had fallen, exposing the monster he truly was.  He was so disgusted with himself and his behaviour he didn’t even bother to try to hide himself.  Letting his natural form show, perhaps to punish himself, he inhaled Eir’s potion and went to go bathe.  Even with the potion dulling his senses, it seemed to take ages for him to calm down and for his cock to finally soften and behave itself.  Loki was halfway through cleaning himself before he realised it was closer to afternoon than it was morning, and Thor had not yet come to fetch him.

Then, Loki realised Thor likely had come to fetch him, and found him in such a shameful state that he had just left Loki behind for the day, imprisoned in his own chambers.  And it was all he deserved after that. 

But as he dressed himself, in preparation for a day spent locked in his cage, he was surprised when he heard the door to the main corridor open.  Loki quickly disguised himself and turned to see Thor entering his bedchamber, oblivious and ignorant to what he had just missed.

“You’re up.  Good,” he said.

That alone was confirmation that he had been as oblivious or ignorant as he let on.  Loki knew Thor had been in to fetch him earlier, and left him where he lay.  Unsure what to say, and barely able to even look at Thor, Loki nodded.

“I’m up,” he said.

“We’re going to Midgard.  You should come,” Thor said.  He looked around Loki’s chambers, pretending he didn’t see the disgusting mess on the bed.  “Getting out would do you some good.”

“I’m not sure that’s allowed,” Loki said.

“Father never said you couldn’t go anywhere.  Just that you can’t go without a chaperone,” Thor said.

Slowly, Loki nodded.  He had barely been allowed beyond a small area within the palace.  Midgard seemed at once like a huge undertaking, and a welcome relief.

“Let me get dressed,” he said.

Doing his best to avoid looking at his mess, Loki dressed quickly, finding something simple that wouldn’t call too much unwanted attention.  He even skipped his surcoat, though a trip to Midgard did require some ornamentation.  He settled on a horned diadem, slipping it on as he turned to join Thor. 

“I haven’t seen you in your horns in months,” Thor said as they walked to the stables.

Loki shrugged.  “I haven’t needed them,” he said.

As they reached the stables, it became clear that the entire trip had been pre-arranged.  Loki’s horse was already tacked and dressed, and with an exhausted sigh in Thor’s direction, Loki mounted it. 

“I told you, it’ll be good for you,” he said.

Loki ignored the wary glances from the rest of their group, and found he couldn’t even look at Sif directly as they prepared to head out.  He always hated taking horses along the Bifröst, and knew that one day he’d be thrown from it and hurled into the void.  But he wasn’t thrown from the Bifröst, and he wasn’t hurled into the void.  They landed safely on Midgard, and Loki quickly got his horse under control.

“All right.  We’re on Midgard.  Now what?” Loki asked.

“Trolls,” Volstagg said.

Loki was surprised to even get an answer.

“What about them?” he asked.

“I’ve heard there’s a village being plagued by them, and Trolls are always a good fight,” Volstagg said.

Loki was far too tired to fight trolls, but he could always sit on the sidelines and hurl stones if he needed to.  He was fairly certain Thor had not devised this trip to get Loki to perform manual labour.  Still, he followed Volstagg’s lead through the realm, curious if nothing else to see where the day went.

The ride to the village was a short one, and as they reached the edge of it, Loki realised this was the largest crowd he had been near in months.  As the humans noticed their approach, they began to gather near the road, and suddenly Loki wasn’t so sure about this trip.  Humans were always fertile.  It was a feature of being so short lived.  A single human woman could produce more children than an Asgardian could over an entire lifetime.  But Loki had taken Eir’s potion, and it was still fresh in his system as they reached the village, and Loki did not find himself wanting to do anything stupid at all.  He dismounted his horse with the rest of their group and walked alongside Thor into the village to meet the jarl.

“We hear you have a troll problem,” Thor said.

The jarl looked up at the pair of them with fear in his eyes.  Not just fear of the trolls, but of the gods who had come to help.  He nodded finally, hands clasped at his chest.

“Yes.  Please, help us,”  he said.  “There’s a whole den of them.  They eat our animals and destroy our houses.”

Just looking around, Loki could see that much was evident.  While some houses showed signs of being freshly built or repaired, others resembled piles of fire starter.

“Where is this troll den?” Thor asked.  “I assure you, these trolls will trouble you no further.”

The jarl pointed off toward the north.

“Just beyond the ridge, there,” he said.

Thor turned to see the ridge in question and nodded.

“Leave it with us,” he said.

He mounted his horse again, and the rest soon followed.  As a party, they rode out to the ridge, stopping at its rounded crest.  Below, on the other side, they could see the troll den, full of bones and shit and everything they had taken from the villagers.

Thor laughed quietly, and turned to Loki.

“Well.  Shall we?” he asked.

“I thought I might stay up here and throw stones,” Loki said.  “No promises on who I might strike.”

Thor did not hide his disappointment well, but he did not argue either. 

“Just try not to hit me, then,” he said.

Loki stayed on his horse while the rest rode down the slope into the valley below.  The sound of hoofbeats soon alerted the trolls, and more of them than Loki expected crawled out of their caves.  A dozen, at least, all snarling and slobbering as they ran to attack.  Leaning against the back of his horse’s neck, Loki watched the battle take shape, as the other five all swung hammers and blades at the dreadful creatures.

While Loki may have been no better than a dog, trolls were somehow worse.  They weren’t like animals.  They were foul beasts, rooting about in their own shit.  And with as many of them as there were, with more still crawling from holes in the ground, he had quite the show in front of him.  It was clear that it was not quite the easy battle Thor and Volstagg had been expecting, but they also weren’t so overrun that Loki felt guilty about sitting it out.  Nor did he feel terribly guilty about laughing as Thor was slapped out of the air, or Volstagg sat upon, face down in the muck.  Loki even kept his word and dismounted his horse long enough to hurl a few stones down into the fray.

As he climbed back onto his horse, Loki picked up a familiar scent on the wind, rolling up the ridge from the village, and suddenly all his enjoyment of the day evaporated.  He reached for the potion, but he had forgotten to tuck it away, and could not remember where in his chambers he had left it.  Looking behind him at the village below, Loki weighed his options.  The smart thing to do was to call Heimdall and return home.  To let himself be dragged back to his chambers by a pair of over-zealous guards and take his punishment in the form of having to sleep in his own filth just as the trolls below.

But once he caught that scent, Loki was anything but smart.  He knew he shouldn’t, but still he turned around and rode back down the slope toward the village.  By the time he thought to turn around, it was too late.  He was no longer operating under his own power.  It wasn’t just one woman whose scent he had picked up, but half the damn village, and it was intoxicating.  He was painfully hard already, and had to hold himself on the saddle to keep from doing himself any lasting damage.  As he reached the village and dismounted, still unsure what he was even doing, the jarl rushed forward to meet him.

“Tell me.  How fares it?” he asked.

Loki just barely managed to force himself to stay still.

“It seems you have more of a troll infestation,” he said, his voice wavering against the effort to make himself look like he was in his right mind.  “And in his haste to leave, my brother never discussed payment.”

The jarl nodded.  “Yes, of course.”  He turned to face the growing crowd behind him, and the shattered village beyond.  “Unfortunately, we haven’t much to offer.”

“You have women,” Loki said.

He could see the fear rising in those who were close enough to overhear.  Even the jarl himself turned back, wide eyed as he nodded slowly.

“Yes.  Of course,” he said, stepping aside. 

He looked again to the crowd, gesturing weakly.  Taking the invitation for what it was, Loki stepped forward, struggling with everything he had to keep his calm.  He felt like he would explode, and it only grew worse as he inhaled deeply, the scent so overwhelming that it easily got past whatever was left of Eir’s potion.

Loki should have turned away.  He should have called Heimdall and taken his punishment.  Instead, he stopped before a young woman who could not even face him.  It was her scent that stood out the most to him in that moment, and if he took any longer to make his choice, he might have lost all sense and reason right there in front of everyone.

“You,” he said.

She looked up at him, inhaling sharply.  Without waiting for her to acknowledge his demand, he took her by the arm and walked her to the nearest house.  Once inside, he let go of her, and watched as she rushed to get as far from him as possible.

“Please,” she said, shaking her head.

This was madness, and yet Loki could not stop himself from unlacing his breeches.  This time, nobody would be able to stop him, and although the thought horrified him to his core, he still freed his cock, hard and aching.  He had taken Midgardian women before, but never like this.  Never when they looked at him with such terror, and still despite it, he pulled his tunic off and cast it aside.  He wanted to feel her flesh against his.  He wanted something living and responsive beneath him, and he wanted his entire body to know it too.

Loki had stalled as long as he was able, and even as he stepped quickly toward the terrified woman, he hated himself.  Even before he laid his hands on her, he knew he’d never forgive himself.  Even as he dragged her across the floor and threw her down onto the bed as she fought and screamed, he knew he deserved whatever punishment Odin would throw at him for this.  Still, he got into the bed with her, wrestling her onto her knees and pulling her skirts up to bare her cunt and ass.  He could feel his magic fading from the effort it had taken him to compose himself so far, and he let it go.  He let his true self show, his hands blue against her fair skin as he forced her out of her gown to bare her body completely.

She cried as he forced himself inside her cunt, but he didn’t hear it because he was too busy shouting from relief he thought he’d never know.  He held her down with his body, caging her with his arms as he had done so many times to his bedding.  As he draped his body against hers, feeling her trembling and struggling beneath him, he breathed in her scent.  Even buried inside her, he needed more, and he had never hated himself more.  He held her tight against his body, one arm wrapped around her waist, and the other across her chest, holding onto her shoulder so she stayed right where he needed her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling their bodies together.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.”

She cried and screamed, and he knew the entire village stood outside listening.  She seemed to grow tighter around his cock by the moment, until Loki too shouted as he was consumed by his need for her body.  He held her even more tightly, squeezing her in his arms as her scent overwhelmed him.  She was fertile, and his only purpose in life was to plant his seed inside her no matter how badly she fought and screamed beneath him. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

He licked trail along her back, able to taste not just the salt of her skin, but something else.  The same thing he could smell on her, but more potent.  He licked it from her body, letting it go straight to his cock as he drove it deep into her so hard it interrupted her noises. 

“I’m sorry,” he said he said against her skin, before licking her again.  “I’m sorry.”

He said it over and over again, feeling as though he could barely move with her so tight around his cock.  He felt as though his cock might be crushed by her, and still he rutted into her, harder and harder and harder, screaming with each thrust forward, and apologising with each attempt to back away.  He finally spent so hard, it drew one final scream from him as he saw white.  His entire body trembled as he continued to rut through it, the added slick doing nothing to ease her tightness around him.  She wailed and screamed beneath him, even as he collapsed on top of her, panting and still slowly rutting into her as he continued to slowly spill deep inside her.  He could feel her trembling, her entire body shaking so hard he could almost hear it.  As his body finally stopped moving on its own, Loki realised what he had done.  He tried to move off of her so he could flee, but she was still so tight around him that they both screamed in pain and in shock.  He managed to pull his weight off of her, leaning back away just enough to see his cock buried in her cunt up to the hilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, realising what he was looking at.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.”

He had behaved like a disobedient dog, and now he was tied to her like one.  Seeing the swell of his cock, blue and not at all his own, stretching her cunt open and still buried deep inside, he knew now why his hand was never good enough.  He shuddered, so sick at the sight he thought he might vomit.

“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry,” he said, trembling so hard he nearly collapsed again.

Not sure what else to do, he held onto her again and tried to roll so they were both on their sides, legs and hips twisted around one another so she didn’t pull against his cock.  He didn’t even know the poor woman’s name, and didn’t dare ask as she wept and sobbed as he pressed her against his chest to get them both settled.  He had seen dogs tied together, and knew all he could do was wait it out.  Give himself ten or fifteen minutes before disappearing to never be seen again.  He’d go find another realm to spend the rest of his days in, where he could never hurt anyone else.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lying down to wait it out.

Sorry didn’t cut it, and he knew it.  But he said it anyway, again and again.  He was a monster, and in a few months, she would give birth to another monster.  There was no chance involved in it.  He picked her because he knew she was fertile and would take his seed.  And he deserved a lifetime in a cage for it.

Eventually, as her cries turned to low whimpers, Loki stopped apologising.  As he watched shadows crawl across the walls, he realised his assumption was flawed.  He wasn’t a dog.  He was a monster.  A monster, stuck inside of a terrified woman who couldn’t even flee after being raped.  Ten minutes would have been a blessing, but Loki was cursed.  He twisted his back so both of his shoulders were nearly flat against the bed, with his hips and legs still tangled with hers, and covered his mouth with both hands to keep himself from screaming once more.  As he took a moment to just think, he realised he was one again a larger fool than he had ever realised.  Except when he tried to shift his form back, he couldn’t.  Something was blocking it.  He tried again, and again, but he already knew what had happened.

The magic had failed.

The potion had failed because Eir had mixed it to protect against a handful of women at most; not an entire village of humans who bred like rabbits.  The potion had failed because he had forgotten to bring it with him.  The potion had failed because Loki was a fool.

The magic had failed because his cock had swollen to an incomprehensible size, and the spell did not know how to put it back as it should have been.  And because of it, he was stuck inside a woman who cried quietly beside him, her body still trembling from everything he had done to her.

He’d had options, and he had pursued none of them.

The guilt and the horror of his own actions crashed down on him, and even with his hands clasped over his mouth to keep himself silent, he wept.  His throat closed tight, and his stomach heaved as he tried to keep himself silent, because he knew he had no right to indulge in self-pity.  He could only watch as shadows and patches of light slowly moved across the walls and began to fade as the evening wore on.  He had no idea how long he’d laid there with his cock still in the woman’s cunt, or how much longer he should expect, but some dark and dreadful feeling washed over him, telling him it could be hours and hours longer.

He heard the hoofbeats outside, but did not register them until Thor shouted his name.  After a minor uproar from a small crowd, the door burst open with a loud crack, and even without being able to see him, Loki could feel Thor’s anger.

“Loki, where are you?” Thor shouted.

He stepped through the house, finally stopping just before the bed.  Loki couldn’t even look at him.  He screwed his eyes shut, resisting the urge to scream into his hands.

“Loki, what have you done?” Thor asked, his horror at the scene before him heavy in his voice.

Loki dared to look at him a moment too late.  Thor grabbed the poor woman by the arm and tried to pull her up, drawing pained screams from both of them.  He let go quickly, letting her fall back down to the bed.  Trying to breathe through it, while the woman sobbed openly once more, Loki shifted to rearrange the two of them so the pressure of her cunt around his cock was as painless as was possible for both of them.

“I’m sorry,” he said, no longer sure who he was even apologising to.

“At least have some Bor-damned decency, you monster,” Thor said.

He picked up a blanket and draped it over the two of them, taking more care to cover up the woman than he did Loki.  Loki figured that was fair, at least, and settled the blanket over himself once Thor stepped away.

“Loki, how could you?” Thor shouted.

Loki shook his head.  “I’m sorry,” he said, his throat still tight and his voice thick.

“This was my idea,” Thor said, turning to step away.  “I convinced Father you could behave.  I thought being locked up for so long was why you had…”

He waved his hand, but he didn’t need to finish the thought.  Loki already knew Thor had walked in and seen him rutting against his pillows in his sleep.

“He doesn’t need to know,” Loki said.

“Of course he needs to know!” Thor shouted.  “Loki, if I can’t turn my back on you for a few minutes, how can you be trusted to be left alone at all?”

Loki didn’t have an answer.  He bit his lip and shook his head, not daring to let Thor see him cry.

“You said we were going to Midgard.  You didn’t say we were heading for a village,” Loki said.

“And if Father never knows, then what?” Thor asked.  “I don’t trust you.  How can I?  Look at you.  You’re out of control.”

Loki shrugged.  “It won’t happen again.  I swear,” he said.

“Isn’t that what you told Father after you tried to rape Freyja?” Thor asked.

All the air left Loki’s lungs.  That was the one detail he hadn’t told Thor.  He turned away, unable to face Thor for a moment longer.

“How did you know?” he asked.

“When it got out what you are, she was the first to tell everyone,” Thor said.  “She said you dragged her away and held her down, and when you were caught, your prick was already in your hand.”

Loki nodded slowly, unable to say anything.

“You’d be in the dungeons right now, waiting for the axe if you had been found even seconds later,” Thor said.  “Father was lenient with you only because you had not managed it yet.”

He paused, as though he expected Loki to defend himself.  But he had no defense.  He had done exactly what Thor had said.  He had pinned Freyja against a wall, and had every intention of raping her right there in the corridor.

“And now you’ve done this,” Thor said.  “Was it worth it?”

Loki shook his head.  “No,” he said.

“Look at you,” said Thor.  “I had thought the rumours were overblown until I found you this morning.  Then I knew they were true.”

Thor took a deep breath, and Loki could hear him stepping away.

“Now I find you like this, and I wonder what else you’ve managed to get away with.”

Loki took a deep, shuddering breath.  “If I tell you, will you keep this from Father?” he asked.

Another silence spanned on between them, and for a moment, Loki thought Thor might not agree.

“It depends on what you tell me,” he said finally.

It was good enough.  Loki nodded, but still couldn’t bring himself to face Thor.

“There was a servant.  In the library,” Loki said.

“You raped her too?” Thor asked.

“No,” Loki said.  “I wanted to.  But I was too scared.”

“When was this?” Thor asked.

Loki took another deep breath, this one slightly more even.  “A few days before Freyja.  I was… I had myself in hand, and she found me.”

“Why was Freyja different?” Thor asked.

“I don’t know,” Loki said.  He shook his head.  “I truly don’t.  I wish I did.”

He could hear Thor scraping around, and he rolled back over to see him grabbing a chair to sit beside the bed.

“What else?” Thor asked.

Loki shook his head.  “That’s all.  And… what you walked in on this morning.  I’m surprised you didn’t catch me sooner.  But I’d say that’s better than the alternative.  Wouldn’t you?”

“Loki, you’re disgusting,” Thor said.

“I know,” Loki said quickly.  “Believe me, I know.”

“Swear to me,” Thor said.  “Swear to me, Loki, that this will not happen again.  Be depraved as you want on your own, but if this happens again, I will swing the axe myself.”

“I swear,” Loki said.  “Never again.”

Sighing, Thor leaned back in the chair and crossed his leg over his knee.  Loki had thought Thor might leave him to this shame in private, but instead he stayed where he was.  As the shadows gave way entirely to darkness, leaving them to sit in the pale glow of lanterns and fires from outside, Loki was struck with the distinct impression he was supposed to have slept through the whole ordeal.  Hours had passed, and his cock showed no sign of returning to normal.  But sleep was the last thing on his mind.  Even though none of them said a word, Loki’s thoughts were spinning.  He was fairly certain Thor had meant to keep this secret, but he had never actually said he would. 

Finally, the pressure around his cock began to subside, but Loki didn’t dare test it.  He knew the poor woman trapped with him could feel it too, and he said nothing as her whimpering returned.  Instead, he shifted to keep her in place so she didn’t get up too soon.

“Loki?” Thor asked after a moment.

Loki stared up at the ceiling, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt.  “Give it a minute,” he said.

He remained still, even as his cock slowly shrunk.  He didn’t dare move, in case he accidentally got himself going all over again.  The woman he had traumatised lay stiff and rigid beside him, not daring to move either.  But once his cock finally slid out of her on its own, she leapt to her feet, taking the blanket with her, and fled from the house wailing.  Before he could do anything about it, Thor grabbed Loki and pulled him from the bed.  He moved quickly, twisting Loki’s arm behind his back, and pinning him against the wall.  His breeches were still tangled around his boots, leaving him exposed and bare as Thor pressed all his weight against him.

“If this happens again, I will kill you myself,” Thor said in his ear.

Loki nodded.

Thor stepped back, pulling Loki away from the wall and flinging him toward the floor.  Loki tripped over his breeches and fell on his face, too disorientated and confused to break his own fall.

“Put yourself together.  We’re going home,” Thor said.

Nodding, Loki slowly stood and pulled his breeches back up.  Before he did anything else, he made sure his magic still worked, and was utterly unsurprised to find that now that he wasn’t stuck inside of some poor woman, he was able to change himself on the first try.  His diadem had got lost at some point, and had fallen to the floor in the chaos.  He put it back on, and then began his search for his discarded tunic.

“I am sorry,” he said, finding it under a table.  “But you are right.”

“About what?” Thor asked.

Loki pulled his tunic on and carefully tucked it into his waistband.

“I’m out of control,” he said.  “I don’t know who’s in control, but it’s not me.  I don’t want this.  I don’t like this.  But I can’t stop myself.  I see what I’m doing, and I want to stop, but I can’t.”

“Then perhaps we ought to rethink castration,” Thor said.

Loki stopped still.

“I swear.  It will not happen again,” he said.

“How can I trust that, when you say you’re not even in control?” Thor asked.

Again, Loki didn’t have an answer.  He made no effort to duck out of the way as Thor strode toward him, nor did he fight back as Thor grabbed him by the arm and dragged him outside to a small crowd.

“This was an unfortunate misunderstanding,” Thor said, looking at the terrified humans.  “If a word is spoken about this from anyone, I will know.  And I will not be happy.”

Loki couldn’t believe Thor was actually going to lie for him.

“Come on, Loki,” Thor said lowly, dragging him toward the horses.

Thor at least let him take his mount on his own, but as he did, Thor tied Loki’s reins to his own saddle.

“What of the others?” Loki asked, watching him blankly.

“They’ll be there all night,” Thor said gruffly as he took his own mount.  “But I had to leave early, because my brother decided he’d rather go rape a mortal.”

Loki bit his lip and looked down at the saddle before him.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I did.”

They rode back to the Bifröst site in silence, and said nothing to one another still as Thor led Loki back through the palace.  At first, Thor had done him the dignity of letting him walk on his own, but Eir’s potion had long since worn off.  As soon as he caught a scent in the air, he turned quickly to find its source, and at once Thor had a grip on his arm like a vise. 

“Fair, but I don’t think I can even get it up right now,” Loki said lowly.

“Shut up,” Thor said.

Thor took Loki all the way to his bedchamber, which had been cleaned and tidied, with all evidence of his previous night erased.  Thor released him, shoving him across the floor as he did, and causing Loki to stumble.

“Could you at least take a message to Eir for me,” Loki asked as he turned to face Thor once more.

“Fine,” Thor said.

“I’m out of both draughts and I need more,” Loki said.  “A decent supply of each, if possible.”

He didn’t even wait for Thor to respond before stepping over to his desk to save himself the misery of what was to come, and inhaled more of Eir’s potion.  He’d go to bed hungry, and know that he at least deserved it.

“Does it truly help?” Thor asked.

Loki nodded, knowing he would never get used to taking the stuff.

“It all does.  I swear,” he said.  “And if I’d known where we were going, I’d have brought it with me.”

“Fine,” Thor said.  “But I don’t care if it means your every meal is like sand.  You use it.  Even if you don’t think you need it, you had better spend the rest of your miserable life too drugged up to do anything.”

Again, Loki nodded.  “I’ve run out, because I’ve been using it,” he said.  “Believe me, life is so much worse without it.”

Growling lowly, Thor turned toward the door and left Loki alone.

« || »

Starve to Death with Dignity #3

The wise thing to do would have been to permanently isolate himself from the rest of the palace.  But after Thor’s surprise visit, Loki didn’t want to lead with such drastic measures.  Eir had given him something to experiment with, and so he led with that.  Being unable to smell or taste anything was a cruel side effect, but one he felt was worth it if it potentially led to his freedom.  After he woke the following morning, he hid himself from his own view, inhaled Eir’s disgusting potion, choked down his breakfast, and settled into his work for the day.  He couldn’t help but feel like Odin had given him a heavier load than usual, but it was something to do, and the tedium of combing through reports and carrying out audits was better than staring at the walls.

And then the wind shifted, and with it, a familiar feeling began to stir in Loki’s loins.  He cradled his head in his hands and growled in frustration, furious at the reminder that he could never hope to be normal again.  Even though it wasn’t the all-consuming lust that had overcome him before, it was still a distraction.  Worse, it meant he still could not be trusted beyond his chamber walls.

Eir had given him a second, stronger potion.  Loki pulled that from her basket and examined it, finding it much like the first.  It was a bit thicker and darker, and a bit stickier, and inhaling it made him gag so hard he nearly choked.  Slowly, he began to feel numb behind his face, and even more slowly his lust began to fade.  Loki moved to the window, breathing deeply just to see whether he could get on with his day, or if he needed to take more drastic measures.  He could see Freyja in her own chambers, still unaware that she was being watched.  But now, watching was all he did.  He wasn’t being driven to insanity by her very presence, though now he found himself wondering how much longer she would continue to make his life misery.

Once he was certain the second potion would do its job, Loki returned to his desk and resumed his work.  When his supper was brought to him, he forced himself to eat, though he only managed to finish half of what he was brought before grew too disgusted with it to continue.

Each day was the same.  Each morning he woke, changed himself so he wouldn’t have to see his own flesh, used the first potion and survived until the afternoon winds shifted, and choked down meals he could barely stand to look at.  He was tempted to start each day with the second potion, but he knew Eir had given him two for a reason.  Often, Thor would visit in the evenings, bringing wine Loki couldn’t even stomach and refused to share.  He ignored the servants who came and went, tidying up around him and bringing him anything he needed, and idly wondered how difficult it had been to recruit several young men for the role.  Finally, after weeks of the same routine, day after day after day of barely keeping hold of his sanity, the afternoon winds shifted without Loki noticing.  He was able to work through until supper was brought up, and it was only when he realised he could taste a slight sharpness in the cheese that he knew the worst was finally over.

The first potion wasn’t strong enough to stop him from losing his mind when the wind caught him right.  But it was enough to buy him time, and allow him to keep his wits and remedy the situation.  And he still had not needed to get into the draughts she had sent, which was enough to make him think he might be able to beat this.  He composed a note for Eir, asking her to send both potions in greater quantities, and had it sent to her that evening.

When his door opened some time later, it wasn’t Thor coming to pay him a visit, nor servants come to tidy his chambers as though he weren’t there.  It was Odin who found him where he lay sprawled out in bed, reading until he grew bored enough to fall asleep.

“Eir tells me her potions are working,” Odin said, pulling the chair away from Loki’s desk.

He sat near the fire pit, in a parody of casual conversation, while Loki slowly sat up a bit straighter.

“They seem to be,” Loki said.

He wasn’t sure what else to offer.  The whole disgusting ordeal was one he’d rather have swept under the rug and forgotten about forever.  Discussing it with his father was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I’ve also been told you’re not eating,” Odin said.

Loki took a deep breath, focusing on the pages in front of him, rather than looking up at Odin.

“It’s a side effect of the potion,” Loki said.  “I find later meals easier to get through, on good days.”

He wondered if he ought to confess that it was because the potion had begun to fade by then.  But it was an easy enough fix if anything arose from it, so Loki kept that information to himself.

“And if I were to release you, can you be trusted to behave yourself?” Odin asked.

Loki nodded.  “Yes, I believe so,” he said.

Odin nodded in return.  “I’m glad to know one of us is confident,” he said.

Loki’s heart dropped, but before he could voice his crushing disappointment, Odin continued.

“You are not to leave these chambers unchaperoned,” he said.  “And if you cannot control yourself, or otherwise remove yourself from the situation, you will find me much less lenient next time.”

Loki nodded.  “Of course,” he said.

Odin stood, stepping forward to drop his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“I wish things could have been different,” Odin said.

Without another word, he walked out of the room, leaving Loki to contemplate his future.  His freedom may have been somewhat restored, but what freedom did he truly have when it was no secret at all what had happened?  Surely by then, all in Asgard knew what he had done to earn his imprisonment, and gossip travelled quickly.  Still, he could not live the rest of his life in a cage.  At least on a leash he was more free than he’d been of late. 

It was Thor who came to fetch Loki in the morning.  Loki wasn’t yet dressed, finding it suddenly difficult to haul himself from bed now that he had a reason to get up.  Loki had barely managed to disguise himself for the day, and hadn’t even decided how he intended to handle any unwanted situations that might, and certainly would arise.

He barely greeted Thor at all as he inhaled Eir’s potion.  It never got easier, and the way it stuck to his insides nearly made him gag every time.

“Is that it?” Thor asked as Loki returned the pot to its place on his desk.

Loki nodded, still trying to get through the worst of it.  Thor picked up the pot and opened it, cautiously sniffing the thick jelly inside.

“What does it do?” he asked, returning the lid and putting it back down.

Loki sniffed harshly.  “It destroys my ability to taste or smell anything,” he said bitterly.  “So I’m afraid I’m skipping breakfast.”

Thor shrugged.  “Just as well.  Father wants you hearing requests today.  There’s already a queue.”

Loki would have rather been trapped in his chambers all day.

“Of course he does,” he said with a heavy sigh.

Thor laughed.  “He says you’re best at it, because of how much you hate it.”

“Yes, listening to squabbling peasants is the height of entertainment,” Loki said bitterly.

He turned to get dressed for a day of doing exactly that.

“Exactly,” Thor said.  “It’s easier for you to not pick sides, because you hate all of them the same.”

Rolling his eyes, Loki pulled a tunic on and tucked it into his breeches. 

“I hate them, because they’re like children fighting over toys,” Loki said.

He grabbed the first surcoat his fingers touched and pulled it on, taking time to make sure everything was straight and tidy.  Then, he used his fingers to comb through his hair and somewhat tame his curls before turning to fetch the boots he hadn’t worn in weeks.

“How long does that slime of yours last?” Thor asked.

As he sat on the bed to pull his boots on, Loki considered his options.

“Not long enough,” he said.  He pointed to the basket Eir had given to him, on the shelf near his desk.  “There’s another in there.  Toss it over.”

Thor pulled another pot from the basket and casually tossed it over to Loki.  Loki caught it from the air and opened it to check that it was the right one, thicker and slightly darker of colour.  He wasn’t sure that he’d be able to excuse himself from any unexpected situations, and make it back to his chambers without incident, so he slipped the potion into one of his hiding places so he had it when he needed it.  With his boots on, and as prepared as it was possible to be, he stood and shrugged.  It had been weeks since he’d been seen in public, and now that he’d been allowed back, he wasn’t sure he truly wanted it.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said.

Thor held the door open and walked with Loki out to the corridor.  The guards that had become a permanent fixture outside his door did little to hide their distaste of the entire situation, but Loki ignored them and followed Thor through the palace and to the throne room.  Loki had expected to find Odin waiting for them, but it was empty, save the ever-present guards near the dais.

“Have fun,” Thor said, already turning to leave.

“Hang on, you’re supposed to stay with me,” Loki said, furious at being left to this task alone.

Thor laughed and pointed to the guard as he retreated further.

“You’re their problem now.  I’ll come fetch you later.”

“You ass,” Loki said.

Thor laughed some more and disappeared, leaving Loki to his task all alone.  He slouched down on the throne, and soon the first in a long line of annoyances was let in to beg for favours, and Loki immediately remembered exactly how much he hated hearing requests.  He hoped that whatever duties Thor had for the day could be handled quickly, and that he’d return to rescue Loki from his torture, but the day dragged on with painful lethargy.  With each request, Loki grew more and more fed up, and began denying requests and issuing confusing judgements on principle.  If he didn’t like a man’s beard, denied.  Someone repeated the same word too many times, denied.  One party seemed overly certain of his own position in a squabble, judgement for the other man.  He no longer cared whether his judgements were fair or even logical.  Perhaps if he did poorly enough, he’d never have to do the job again.

By the time Thor finally returned for him, Loki had slid so far down from his seat that he was halfway on the floor.  Thor laughed as he walked across the throne room, stopping below the dais with his hands on his hips.

“Loki, what are you doing?” he asked.

“Dying,” Loki said flatly.  “Of ennui.  Because you left me here for so long.”

“Yes, well.  Father won’t like it if you die there,” Thor said.  “Go do it somewhere else.”

Loki sighed dramatically before hauling himself to his feet, glad to finally be released from his torture.  Together, they walked from the throne room to the banquet hall, but Loki stopped short just beyond the entrance and stared in at the crowd.  A familiar tightness began to rise within him, giving him only moments to make a choice.

“I think I’d prefer to dine alone,” he said lowly.

Thor turned to look at him.  “Are you certain?”

Loki nodded.  “I need to leave.”

Without waiting for Thor, he turned to head back to his chambers.  Thor quickly caught up with him, walking close by his side.  He could feel Thor hovering just a little too close, ready to reach out and grab Loki at a moment’s notice, but not quite touching him just yet.  Neither said a word until they reached Loki’s chambers, and he was safely inside, and by the time they reached his door, Loki barely had the wits to speak at all.

“Shall I have something sent?” Thor asked.

Loki nodded again, and then pushed the door shut between them.  Even with the distance between him and whoever had set him off this time, his lust was reluctant to subside.  He leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor as he loosened the laces on his breeches enough to reach inside.  His cock was already hard and straining beneath the leather, and once again almost entirely unresponsive to his own hand.  He bit his lip and tried to coax it into spilling quickly, but it only made him want more.  He leaned forward as he worked himself, bracing against the floor with his free hand.  Rather than using his hand on his cock, he began fucking his own hand, rutting against it, and that was almost better.  He got up onto his knees, giving himself more room and moved against his hand as though it were someone beneath him.  To better convince himself of just that, he lowered to press his chest against the ground, with his ass in the air.  He imagined that the ground was a body beneath him, pliantly taking his cock.  It worked, just, and he spilled onto the stone floor with a muffled shout, continuing to rut against his hand until he had nothing left to spill.  With his face burning and his heart pounding, Loki sat up and looked at the mess he’d left, ashamed at the sight of it.  Grimacing at his own behaviour, Loki looked around the small chamber for anything to clean up with, and settled on pulling a blanket from the sofa that was only steps away.  With it, he mopped up as much as he could, and then tossed it over to a corner to be collected later.

Finally catching his breath, Loki sat up onto his knees and put himself back together, tying his breeches shut before getting up to go hide in his bedchamber.  Even then, he felt as though he needed only move wrong within his own clothing to get started again, and if that were indeed to be the case, Loki thought he would much rather not be just beyond his own front door.

Thor seemed a bit more aware of the situation than Loki wanted to acknowledge, because it was nearly half an hour before a servant brought him his supper.  Loki didn’t even acknowledge him as he left the tray on the desk and retreated.

Loki had done as he had been told.  He had removed himself from the situation before it had become a problem.  So why didn’t it feel like he’d done the right thing?  And why did he find himself continuing to struggle to maintain his wits?

After the third day, Loki was convinced that hearing requests was Odin’s true punishment for his behaviour, and that being allowed the privacy and solitude to sort himself after out was a mercy.  Having to listen to farmers bicker about land borders was going to kill him.  And each evening, his choices were the same.  He could try to eat a meal that may as well have been made of sawdust, or rush past the banquet hall as quickly as possible and hope to make it to his chambers before he lost what remained of his sanity.  Thor didn’t even bother asking the third time, leaving Loki to his shame without another word.  This time, he managed to shed his surcoat and make it to his bed before his hand found its way into his breeches. 

With his entire body trembling, he managed to gather several of his pillows and pile them beneath him, mounting them like a dog.  With his cock in hand, he rutted against the mass, letting his weight sink into it.  He could almost convince himself it was a body beneath him, grunting and sweating along with him.  He felt like a feral animal, rutting against it like that, but he couldn’t stop.  His body was not his own, and would not be his own until he could sate this insane urge.  He buried his face into the mass beneath him and screamed in frustration as still his lust only rose higher and higher.  His cock was so hard in his hand, he felt like it might burst, and still it craved more.

Loki managed to stop long enough to free himself from his breeches, letting them fall down to bare his ass.  Instead of holding his cock in hand, he rutted against the pillow itself, letting the difference in texture and the weight of his own body do the work.  It was just different enough that he spilled onto the fabric with a force so hard, he screamed again.  With his eyes screwed shut, he continued to slowly rut against it until he had nothing left to spill, sobbing silently to himself.  Once he finally stilled, he rolled over onto his back and threw the pillow across the room, furious with himself for all of it.

He couldn’t keep doing this.  This wasn’t keeping himself in control.  This wasn’t anybody’s idea of proper behaviour.  He was a fool to think he might have ever been able to go back to living a normal life.  Nor could he isolate himself forever.  The rules had changed, and these were not rules he could bend or twist to suit himself. 

When Thor fetched him from his own personal hel the following day, Loki didn’t immediately rise to meet him.  Instead, he summoned Eir’s disgusting potion and hoped to choke on it as he inhaled it.  Then, he waited a few moments longer, to make sure it had a chance to take hold before finally rising to his feet.

“I’m going to jump off the Rainbow Bridge,” he said as he trudged after Thor.

“Loki,” Thor said.  “Don’t say things like that.”

Loki didn’t respond.  He didn’t want to hear anything else Thor might have had to say.  As they reached the banquet hall, he was tempted to continue on to his chambers anyway, just for the novelty of returning as himself, and not as a wild beast that made a mess on every surface he touched.  But he followed Thor into the hall, taking his usual spot amongst their friends, and immediately regretted it.

“Look who’s finally decided to join us,” Fandral said.

“Don’t talk to me,” Loki said, slouching as far down onto the bench as he could without falling off.

Thor poured him a cup of ale, but without any flavour at all, it was like cotton in his mouth.  The boar was the same story, nearly making him gag as he tried to eat it.  He got through two bites before giving up and rising to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Thor asked.

“To bed,” Loki said.

Behind him, Thor growled in frustration as he got up to follow him.  Loki wanted to tell Thor to leave him be, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good.  Instead, he said nothing as he strode quickly back to his chambers.  Again, Thor left him without a word as he barricaded himself inside.  He threw his surcoat at the sofa and strode to his bed chamber, furious that he had done the right thing and found it somehow worse.  Loki fell face down onto the bed, not moving at all once he landed.  He stayed there, barely moving at all until a servant let himself in with what Loki could only assume was a tray for supper.

“I don’t want it.  Take it away,” he said, his voice muffled against the bed.

For a moment there was only silence, until finally he heard the servant turn to leave.  Only then did Loki roll over onto his back and stare up at the ceiling.  He needed to decide what was more important, whether it was the ability to stomach even a single meal, or his dignity. 

He couldn’t survive on scraps.  Dignity meant nothing if he slowly starved to death.  He would simply take supper in his rooms going forward.  And the following day when Thor gathered him up, Loki had a new plan.  The solution was obvious, but he had been too busy following Odin’s rules to realise it was right in front him.

“I’m going to my chambers,” he said as Thor approached him.

“Very well,” said Thor.  “Let’s go, then.”

Loki took a deep breath.  “No,” he said.  “I will be taking myself.”

Thor nodded slowly, and Loki could see him turning the idea over in his head.

“You know you can’t do that,” he said.  “Father won’t allow it.”

“Thor, I am starving,” Loki said.  “If I walk through the palace, I will lose my mind.  Meet me there if it makes you feel better.”

Thor frowned, grumbling quietly.

“Father won’t like this,” he said.

“So don’t tell him,” Loki said.  He shrugged and finally stood.  “But I cannot keep doing this.”

Finally, Thor nodded, and looked at the guard behind Loki.

“Ten minutes,” he said.  “Do not let him leave before then.”

The guard nodded, and Loki rolled his eyes.  He sat back down on the throne and watched as Thor turned to leave.  He was certain the guard’s ability to keep time was lacking, but Loki stayed where he was, not daring to even look like he was trying to leave early.  If he was ever to regain enough trust to be able to come and go entirely as he pleased, he needed to show that he could be trusted.  So he waited, growing every more impatient to leave by the second.

“My lord,” the guard said finally.

Loki stood and turned to the guard to acknowledge his release, and with a single step forward took himself straight to his chambers.  For the first time arriving in something even resembling a decent mood, he took a moment to shed his surcoat before opening the door to the corridor.  Thor stood outside, frowning sourly, which Loki answered with a smug grin.

“Have something sent for me, will you?” he asked.

“I don’t like this,” Thor said.

“I don’t care,” Loki said.

He shut the door on Thor’s face, knowing he’d be getting an earful from Odin about it later.  But he wanted to enjoy a meal in peace, for once without the shadow of shame and humiliation hanging over him. 

Loki traded his leather breeches for a looser linen pair, and had the time to get comfortable in bed before the servant arrived with his meal.  Loki ate right there in bed while catching up with the rest of his work for the day, taking his time to get through all of it.  Once he was finished, he left both his tray and his work staked on his desk to be taken away the following day.

Finding himself with little else to do, Loki returned to bed with a book and cup of wine, eager to enjoy the evening.  He was halfway through his wine when he realised he had read the same line six times.  He sat up, frowning at the room around him, hoping his concentration was slipping because he was simply tired.  But he knew that wasn’t it.  Deep down, he knew exactly what was happening.  The breeze through the windows had picked up someone’s scent.  But it was faint, so Loki picked up his book again, determined to ignore it.  If he could ignore this, perhaps he could train himself to ignore it when the urges grew stronger.  But ignoring it was not the same as regaining his focus.  He stared at the page before him, no longer even trying to read the words as he forced himself to remain still. 

Unable to stop himself, he began rubbing himself through his breeches, rolling into his own touch.  He let his eyes drift shut and dropped the book to the bed beside him, deciding this was fine.  He wasn’t behaving like an animal.  This was perfectly normal lust.  Nobody would fault him for this.  He hummed quietly as he rubbed himself through the fabric, not even needing to touch himself properly.  This was enjoyable, as taking himself in hand had not been in far too long.

He let himself enjoy it, wanting to savour this in case it never happened again.  Part of him was surprised he could even still enjoy his own hand, and he teased himself until he could take no more.  Finally, he unlaced his breeches and took himself, gasping at the touch.  He rolled his foreskin between his fingers, and tugged at his sac, trying to see exactly how long he could hold out.

Loki leaned back against the headboard as he began stroking himself with just the tips of his fingers.  Somehow even that had become too much, and his own spend took him by surprise.  He gasped quietly as he coaxed the rest out, having nearly forgotten that it wasn’t supposed to hurt.  It wasn’t supposed to even be difficult. 

And that it hadn’t been this time gave him some amount of hope.  Perhaps he could find a way to beat this foul thing and truly move on with his life.  But even as he picked up his book, he realised the distraction was still there.  It wasn’t as though he were losing control of his body, but he still could not focus on the words before him as once more he felt that familiar stir rising with him.

“Oh, come on,” he said, tossing the book aside again.

He got to his feet and strode over to the window, wondering if he would even be able to tell if it was someone’s scent on the air, or if his body had just become accustomed to the abuse.  As soon as he leaned his head out of the window, he had his answer.  He wasn’t sure if he could truly identify any specific scent on the air, but as he leaned into the breeze his lust grew stronger.  He tried to find whoever was doing this to him, but he had no idea where to even start.  As the breeze picked up, the scent it carried only grew stronger, and once more his hand was down his breeches.  Only this time, it wasn’t enough.  He rubbed his length with his palm, pressing his cock against his stomach.  He leaned out of the window as far as he could dare, still trying to find the source.  The longer he spent trying to identify it, the harder it became to think about anything else.  He rutted against his hand, trying to find a way to use the windowsill to give him better leverage. 

He needed to step away before he fell, and died with his dick in his hand.  He could see the ground below, but even as he leaned out the window, he couldn’t find it a serious enough threat to stop.

It took every ounce of will he had to pull his hand out of his breeches and step away.  With his legs trembling beneath him, he barely made it back to his bed.  He needed a body beneath him.  Any body.  That’s what felt natural.  That’s what felt right.  But he was locked in his chambers for the rest of the evening, and even if he wasn’t, he was too far gone to even try to leave.  He should have stayed put in bed.  If he hadn’t gone investigating, he wouldn’t be in this position, but now he was writhing and panting on his bed with his hand on his cock and no end in sight. 

Loki managed to get up onto his knees, giving in to the only thing he knew that worked.  Loki let his breeches fall so his cock stood free, and gathered his pillows to mount them like a dog.  He rutted against it, panting and whimpering quietly with each thrust.  Keeping his eyes screwed shut so he didn’t have to face the reality of what he was doing, he tried to imagine someone on all fours beneath him.  He let his weight fall against the pillows, letting his arms cage them as if they were a body, his own twisting and squirming out of his control.  It still wasn’t enough.  It would never be enough.  Loki managed to shift himself to move his hand to press his cock harder into the pillow beneath him, holding his palm flat against its length.  With a shameful grimace, he cried out for more, rutting harder and harder with each thrust of his hips until once more his spend hit him like a punch to the stomach.  And still he couldn’t stop rutting through it, even as the ache turned painful.  Still, he couldn’t stop until every last drop had been spilled and smeared onto the fabric.  He rolled off, weeping as he struggled to even breathe, and threw the spoiled pillow across the room.  He could barely breathe, and his heart felt as if it might burst.

He couldn’t live like this.  Not with that scent still in the air.  Before it could catch it again, he forced himself to his feet.  His legs were like jelly, and he nearly fell as soon as he stood, but he caught himself on the edge of the bed and began the painful walk to his desk.

He inhaled Eir’s potion first, hoping to stop anything before it started again.  Then, he grabbed one of the draughts that still sat unopened in the basket, and pried the cork from it.  Unsure how much to take, Loki took a swig large enough to fill his mouth, swallowing down the bitter liquid. 

Loki had a choice, and it was a simple one.  He could starve to death with dignity, or he could rut himself to death on a full stomach. 

« || »

Starve to Death with Dignity #2

As far as gilded cages went, his own chambers were the best possible outcome.  He was afforded the privacy and comfort he needed to solve his other problem, which he wished so desperately that Odin had not revealed.  He didn’t understand why Odin had showed it to him at all, and understood even less why Odin left it up to him to deal with.  He clearly had a working that did the job, and didn’t force Loki to confront this brand new reality. 

He avoided the looking glass, and wore gloves to cover his hands so he did not have to see the blue tones of his flesh.  It was one thing to hide his appearance and simply appear Æsir, but he didn’t want that.  He wanted something fixed, that would stay in place without requiring will or concentration.  He wanted something that wouldn’t fade when he fell asleep, which he could put on, and never take off or acknowledge again for as long as he lived.

Short of outright cursing himself, which was tempting in itself, he could find no such working.  He found something which came close, and hid him without requiring constant concentration.  It would fail on it under the right—or wrong—circumstances, but he could look at his own reflection and not want to smash it.  That alone was a success.

But it didn’t solve his other problem, which kept him locked up in the first place.  Even with a disguise in place, he still did not dare try to leave the confines and safety of his own chambers, because he knew what would happen if he did.  And it seemed Odin still trusted him to carry out certain duties, as work was brought to him each morning, and picked up for delivery each evening.  He pretended not to notice that the slight ginger woman who used to service his chambers had been replaced by a man, but Loki was grateful for it.  It gave him one less distraction, and something to do and focus on that wasn’t an unsolvable problem. 

And unsolvable was precisely what it was.  Even locked away in seclusion, he still could not escape whatever was happening to him.  He found himself constantly distracted by his own lust, unable to complete even the simplest of tasks until he took himself in hand, often multiple times.  His hand never seemed good enough, and he took no pleasure from it.  It was more like scratching a painful itch, or squeezing a stretched and bruised muscle; a pain that was a relief only because it brought a different sort of pain as a distraction.

As a gentle breeze rolled through his windows, Loki stood lean out and breathe some fresh air, hoping it might at least lessen his urges somehow.  But he was immediately hard again, and almost wept for it.  He looked out over the courtyard, wondering if the fall from the window might have been enough to put himself out of his misery.  And then, finally, he saw the source of his frustration.  An overlooked detail he had always known, and forgotten.  In another wing of the palace, across the courtyard, his window looked straight into Freyja’s chambers.  He could see her from where he stood, lounging casually with several other women.  None of them had noticed him, but that didn’t matter.  He looked all around the courtyard between them, and the sheer walls, trying to find any way across.  Then he remembered.  He didn’t need a way across.  He could simply step from one shadow to the next, and—

He stepped back from the window, horrified at his own thoughts. 

Step from one shadow to the next, and what?  Rape Freyja before an audience?  He didn’t even know why he had become so fixated on her, but something needed to be done about it.  He forced himself to take another step back and turn.  One step at a time, he made his way on shaky knees through his chambers and to his door, throwing it open to face the guards outside.

“I need to be moved,” he said, barely able to keep his voice level as his breath came ragged and heavy.  “Now.”

The guards looked at one another, silently conversing before one of them nodded.  They grabbed him by the arms, holding him as though they expected him to try to struggle and flee, and he was grateful for it.  He wanted to struggle and flee, and had to resist the urge to do so even as he was led forcefully along a path he should have been taken the first time.  Finding himself dragged down to the dungeons came of no surprise at all, though the prepared cell they took him to was a surprise.  Odin had anticipated this, and whether it was intended as punishment or not, Loki knew it was all he deserved.  He let the guards lock him into the warded cage, praying it was enough.

Unable to stand much longer, Loki collapsed onto the bed and once again let his hand wander into his breeches.  He didn’t even care if he had an audience, or what that audience might think.  He would simply explode if he couldn’t find a way to end this insanity.  And since that wasn’t possible, the next best thing was to at least relieve himself of his current condition.  But his cock did not want his hand, neither the gentle touch, nor a tight grip along the shaft, and even though each stroke only deepened his ache, he could not stop.  When he finally spent, it was as though a punch to the gut; a deep pain that brought no pleasure.  His face twisted in agony and shame, Loki stared up at the ceiling above and waited for the urge to consume him once more.  But this time, it seemed to have at least been sated, and as the ache in his belly slowly faded, Loki rolled over onto his side and tried to find solace in sleep.

Loki woke, not knowing if it was from a quick nap or a deep slumber.  He didn’t care either way.  He had barely stopped himself from doing something unforgivable, and for it he knew he would never see daylight again.  And yet, he was curious all the same.  Surely, every single man on Jötunheimr did not spend his days acting like a feral beast.  They had their customs, which now did not seem strange at all, but Loki refused to believe this was all he had to look forward to for the rest of his life.

His cell had been furnished comfortably, in anticipation for his arrival.  Loki hoped Odin had anticipated him making this decision on his own, as he had, and that it had not been arranged in the expectation that Loki would do something regrettable.  Either way, it was his now, and likely all he would ever know again.  He rose from the bed and leaned over the small desk next to the bed, finding a sheet of parchment and a quill.  He scribbled down instructions on the parchment and folded it, realising there was no wax with which to seal it against prying eyes.  Sighing, he decided it didn’t matter.  No matter what story Odin spun, the truth had surely got out all the same.  If his message was read, it contained no information that wasn’t already likely public knowledge.

He took the parchment to the cell’s barrier and peered out along the corridor, finding a guard nearby.

“Have this delivered to the library,” Loki said, holding up the folded parchment.

The guard looked at him for a long moment before stepping forward and opening the barrier just enough to take the note.  He didn’t leave until Loki dismissed him with a nod, which itself came as an odd surprise.  But he hadn’t been brought to the dungeons in punishment.  It was insurance, and he strove to remember that.  With nothing to do to pass the time, Loki returned to the small bed in the corner and waited.  His request from the library was filled with surprising haste, and the guard returned trailed by one of the few male librarians in the palace’s employ, his arms stacked with books and scrolls.  The guard opened the barrier again, and the man stepped into the cell and brought the stack closer to the desk.  Once everything was settled, he bowed to Loki and retreated in obvious haste.  With the barrier once again closed, locking Loki safely inside, he got up from the bed in the hopes he might find the information he needed.

He flipped through page after page, finding more to do with political treaties and history than anything pertinent.  Asgard’s collective knowledge about Jötunheimr and its people suddenly seemed embarrassingly little.  It was buried deep between the lines that he finally found the answer to the question that suddenly plagued him.  A ritual that struck Loki as sounding oddly familiar and barbaric, but which now was the only logical solution.  The tradition of casting boys into the storm once they came of age, condemning all but the strongest to death was, on paper, one more reason Asgard saw the frost giants as barely more than animals.  But they had to be cast out, Loki realised.  If his behaviour was normal, exile as a rite was the only way any sort of order could be maintained.  That any were allowed back at least brought some hope that he could learn to control whatever this was.  Perhaps with time, these urges would subside, and become easier to ignore.  Perhaps he simply needed to wait it out, though it only opened the question of how long he’d be locked away for everyone’s safety.

He was surprised when the barrier opened behind him once more, allowing another servant entry.  He brought with him not only a meal of meat and hard cheeses, along with a small pitcher of ale, but the work Loki had abandoned in his chambers.  So, he was still allowed to participate and carry on his role, though somehow now reviewing security reports from within the dungeons felt more than a little ironic.  Dismissing the servant, Loki immediately sunk himself into these offered distractions all the same, having no other way to pass his time.

Despite being locked in a cell, the dungeons were something of a relief.  Whether it was the lack of distraction, or simply the isolation, his prick finally started to behave itself.  He was able to complete his work, and to pass the rest of the time he sent for more books from the library.  He read everything that was sent down to him, not caring what it was.  It was a way to pass the time that did not involve his hand down the front of his breeches, and that was an improvement. 

He lay stretched out on the bed, reading about parasites found in the intestines of goats, when once more the barrier to his cell opened.  He glanced up, expecting to see a servant coming in to drop something off or take something away.  Instead, it was Eir who entered, and the very sight of her made Loki’s blood run cold.  He stared up at her, terrified of what he might do with her so close.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, waiting for the inevitable.

To his immense surprise, Eir scoffed and shook her head.  “Nonsense.  I’m too old for that,” she said.

Just once, Loki wished he could have a conversation with somebody where he was on the same page as them.

“What?” he asked.  He shook his head.

Eir sat on the bed near his feet, setting a small basket on the bed between them.

“Has nobody told you anything?” she asked.  “What was in all those books the library sent down to you?”

Loki shook his head again.  “Very little of relevance,” he said.

Eir clicked her tongue, and Loki couldn’t tell if her growing irritation was with him, or with someone else.

“Pheromones, you daft boy,” she said.  “Why do you think they’ve put you down here?”

Loki looked around the cell, able to see into several of the others across the corridor.  “Because I’m a menace,” he said.

Eir seemed to only grow more irritated by the moment.  “No,” she said, reaching into her basket and pulling out a small ceramic pot.  “Well, yes.  But that’s hardly your fault right now, is it?”

Loki wasn’t so sure about that.  He’d been fully aware of every action he’d taken, even if he had done next to nothing to stop himself from doing any of it.

“Now sit up,” Eir said.

Loki dared to obey, his entire body trembling.  As he sat up, Eir moved closer, and even dared to bring her hand to hold his head still.  Distantly, Loki slowly realised that the only thing he felt at that moment was fear.  No feral urges rose within him, even with Eir so close.  He watched as she took the lid from the pot and used her finger to scoop up a small amount of some sort of thick, translucent red jelly from within.  Then, she tilted Loki’s head back, and stuffed the jelly into Loki’s nose.  Before he could even react, Eir stuffed more up his other nostril, and only then let him go.  Choking, with his eyes burning, Loki reeled back and tried to clear it out, but Eir slapped his hands away.  He had to breathe through his mouth, which only sent the acrid burn further down his throat.

“Inhale it,” Eir said.

Still struggling to breathe, Loki looked at her for extra guidance.  When none came, he cautiously reached up to squeeze his nose shut and inhale sharply, pulling what was quickly turning to sludge deeper into his sinuses.  With his head spinning, and fighting against the urge to gag and vomit, Loki couldn’t stop himself from whimpering quietly.

“We’ll see if this works,” Eir said, closing the lid and returning the ceramic pot to her basket.  “With luck, it should dull the senses.”

Loki nodded, struggling to find his voice.

“Can’t you do that with magic?” he asked.

“Magic fails,” Eir said.  “You know that.”

He did know that.  Every morning, he was reminded of it as he was greeted what what he refused to acknowledge as his true form.  He nodded again, sniffing harshly as his body rebelled against what had been forced inside of it.  Still confused and disorientated over what had just happened, he watched as Eir rose to her feet and returned to the still open cell barrier.

“You can take him back now,” she said to the guard, handing her basket off to him.  “He shouldn’t bring you any trouble.”

After she stepped aside, two more guards entered the cell, and Loki got to his feet.  This ritual of theirs was becoming oddly comfortable, as he was grabbed and held tightly by both arms.  Even with Eir’s potions, Loki still didn’t trust himself, and he couldn’t fault the guards for not trusting him either.  He let himself be led back through the palace like a criminal, focusing only on where they were going.  He ignored the few people they passed along the way, putting the problem for what to say about it aside for later.  Nobody said anything, even as they reached his chambers, and Eir’s basket was handed off to him.  Loki waited until the door was closed between him and the rest of the palace before looking into the basket.  Along with the potion Eir had already used on him, she had given him several other potions and draughts, along with a note explaining what each one was.  A strong sleeping draught, whose true purpose was obvious even without needing to be stated.  A draught of hemlock and mistletoe that would not put him to sleep, but would still incapacitate him while leaving him somewhat conscious.  And a stronger version of the first potion, in case it proved to not be strong enough.

A care package, then, meant to drug him into a stupor rather than letting him suffer.  Sighing at it, Loki took the whole thing to his bedchamber, and left it on his desk.  He wasn’t in the mood to read, or to do any work.  He wanted only to relax in the comfort of his own bed once again.  But before he reached it, he looked out the window that faced the courtyard, and Freyja’s chambers beyond.  He stood quietly, tilting his head to the side as he watched her carry about her own business obliviously.  Even watching her, waiting for something to happen, no urge rose within him.  For now, it seemed as though Eir’s potion had worked.

He lay down on his bed, and no sooner had he got comfortable, heard the door at the antechamber open.  A few moments later, Thor let himself into Loki’s bedchamber, with a bottle of wine in hand and concern plainly written across his face.

“Father said you’d been let out,” Thor said, daring to step closer.

Loki snorted.  “Well.  I still can’t go anywhere, but yes.”

He watched as Thor twisted his face up, very clearly fighting his own urges to ask stupid questions.

“Loki, what did you do?” he asked finally.

Not even knowing where to start, Loki sighed and shook his head.  “Something extremely regrettable that needs not be spoken allowed,” he said.  “Let’s leave it at that, please.”

Thor nodded, and sat down on the bed as he uncorked the wine.

“I sometimes feel like everyone knows but me,” he said.

“Thor,” Loki said, already tired of this conversation.

“Right,” said Thor. 

He took a long drink straight from the bottle, and then passed it over to Loki.  Having nothing better to do, Loki sat up and took it, but drinking came with an unpleasant surprise.

“Huh,” he said, pulling the bottle away to look at it. 

A moment later, he tried sniffing at it, but he could smell it no more than he could taste it.

“I can’t taste a thing,” he said. 

He sniffed at it once more, but still nothing.  Grimacing, he handed it back and looked back toward the window.  He couldn’t see Freyja from this angle, but suddenly he understood.  It wasn’t some strange, mysterious fault within himself that made him lose his mind.  Each time Loki became a passenger to his own urges, he had been in the presence of a woman.  But it wasn’t any woman who drove him to insanity.

Had he not been pulled off Freyja, she would soon be giving birth to his bastard.  She was fertile, and he could smell it.  That was what Eir had meant, and why she had been so clearly unconcerned for her own safety.

Thor must have realised there was far more he hadn’t been told.  He stared at Loki with deep confusion, even as the fog suddenly lifted from Loki’s own mind.

“I’m never going to be able to leave these rooms again,” Loki said, knowing that even with Eir’s potions and draughts, he could never be trusted.

“Loki?” Thor asked.

Loki shook his head.  “Has Father told you anything?” he asked.

After a moment, Thor nodded.  “He told me enough,” he said.  “It changes nothing.”

It changed everything, but that wasn’t an argument Loki had the energy for.

“If he told you enough, then you know what I did,” he said.

Again, Thor nodded.  “I had hoped to be mistaken,” he said.  “Who?”

“I was stopped, so it doesn’t matter who,” Loki said.  “And I’m sure she won’t want your pitiful looks.”

“Right,” Thor said again. 

He took another long drink of the wine, giving Loki the distinct impression Thor had brought it for himself.

“So, what now?” Thor asked.

Loki shrugged and looked around the room.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “Resources are limited, so I’ve only done little research.  I feel my release is very conditional, as it is.”

He watched Thor mull the entire situation over.  This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to be having at all, but it was better to get it over with.

“You were up here for a week,” Thor said, unable to look at Loki directly.  “Loki.  You…”

“I was moved at my own request,” Loki said.

“Good,” Thor said, nodding.  “Loki, I know you’re not…”

“A backwards savage?” Loki cut in.  He snorted and shook his head.  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

He sniffed deeply again, still fighting against the uncomfortable itch from the potion.

“Though perhaps if I spend the rest of my days locked up and drugged into a stupor, it won’t happen again,” he said.

Thor did nothing to hide the sorrow that washed over him.  “I suppose worse could have happened,” he said.

Despite everything, Loki wanted to laugh.  “I suppose the next step is castration, so let’s pray for the drugs,” he said.

His words drew a small huff from Thor, which was enough of a victory for Loki.

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Starve to Death with Dignity #1

Every time Laufey sent an envoy to Asgard, it upset everything.  Loki didn’t understand their demands, nor why Odin went along with them.  The envoy was sequestered to their own part of the palace, where no women were allowed to enter.  Talks all happened in that part of the palace, while servants had to be shuffled about, guards filling roles where there were not enough men to carry out duties.  For weeks it carried on, sowing chaos in all the worst ways.  And for weeks, Odin tolerated it.  Finally, the talks ended, the envoy returned to Jötunheimr, and the palace returned to normal.

“Why do you think he puts up with it?” Loki asked Thor, watching as Odin escorted Laufey’s cousin over the Rainbow Bridge to the Bifröst.

Thor shrugged.

“They’re backwards savages, Loki,” he said.  “You know that.  If they so much as look at a woman, they turn feral.”

Loki rolled his eyes.  “I’ve seen you after too many drinks, and even you manage to control yourself.”

Thor snorted and clapped Loki on the shoulder so hard he stumbled forward.  By the time he turned to shoot Thor a dirty look, Thor was already halfway through the door, laughing to some joke with himself.  Ignoring it, Loki strode out as well, keen to find some way to occupy his time that didn’t involve politics.  By the time he made his way to banquet, the tables were already being served, with the usual crowd gathering around them.  As Loki took his seat amongst his friends, he caught Odin gazing critically at him, his one eye seeming to pierce right through him.  Shaking it off, he focused his attention on the bottle of wine before him, taking the entire thing for himself.

It was the first time in far too long that women had been present at banquet, and Loki wasn’t the only man there who had missed their presence.  Fandral had one hanging off of each shoulder, and even Hogun had decided to entertain some young blonde thing for the evening.  As the crowd bustled a bit more loudly than usual, it was only a matter of minutes before Loki found himself the centre of someone’s attention.  He didn’t recognise her, and he didn’t care.  She slid up into his space with a horn in one hand, and an apple in the other. 

“Do you intend to share?” Loki asked her.

With a coy smile, she looked at the apple for a moment, before holding it up.  Loki took a bite of it right from her hand, realising he had missed this part of the evening more than he even knew.  The coy flirting and subtle power plays were a large part of the fun, before the evening ever even led back to his chambers.  On some deep, shameful level, Loki knew he could have any woman he wanted and not be refused, and it was on that same deep, shameful level that he found the most fun when the girl on his lap acted like she might try to refuse him anyway.  He quickly forgot all about the meal laid out on the table, letting his hands wander and not caring who saw.  He wasn’t the only man ignoring the meal set before him, and he wasn’t the only man who took a nameless woman to his bed that evening.  Nor was he the only man to wake the next morning to an empty bed and light on silver, and with a bone-deep ache that came from being too distracted to sleep through the night.  But with that itch finally scratched and sated, he drew himself a bath before getting a late and lazy start to his day.

At first, Loki thought he was imagining it; Odin’s hard, critical gaze on him whenever they were in the same room.  He thought he was seeing something that wasn’t there whenever Odin happened to spot him playing his game with the wenches and whores who made themselves frequent guests to the palace in the evenings.  But weeks rolled into months, and still Loki would occasionally find himself being watched; being judged.  Loki took to glaring back, unsure of what transgression he had made to earn such scrutiny.  He stopped pretending he hadn’t noticed, letting Odin know that he was well aware of this new shift in attitude.  It wasn’t enough to stop Odin’s unnerving glare entirely, but it did subside to a tolerable level, allowing Loki to go about his business without the weight of unearned disapproval hanging over him.

He was surprised he wasn’t being followed as well.  For all that Odin clearly didn’t trust him, it seemed almost inevitable.  But he was at least allowed his peace and solitude, and for that much he was thankful.  It meant he was free to pursue his own endeavours without interruption.  For the most part, his own endeavours kept him either locked up in his chambers, or in a hidden part of the library.  But even then, he was never truly left alone.  Servants came and went, quietly making sure he always had fresh ale or wine, and nuts or fruit to nibble on as he worked.  They never spoke to him, and as long as they didn’t disturb his work, he never acknowledged them.

Even as the girl gathered up his used bowls and the empty decanter from the morning, they both worked in silence.  Though as she left, Loki found himself suddenly distracted for another reason entirely as he felt himself stir with sudden arousal.  He hummed in frustration and shifted in his seat, trying to find a way to sit that didn’t agitate things further.  But instead of behaving itself, his cock found itself pressed almost painfully against his own thigh, trapped at an unnatural angle by his leather breeches.  Loki tried to shift again, lifting his leg in hopes it might encourage things to rearrange themselves.  But the situation was too far gone, and his cock was trapped and only growing harder.

He quickly reached down the front of his breeches to rearrange himself to a more natural angle, but he got only as far as releasing it from its prison against his thigh.  Before he was even aware he was doing it, Loki began stroking himself.  Even once he realised he was doing it, Loki struggled to pull his hand away.  He looked around, but his little alcove was hidden from view by rows and rows of shelves.  With his hand still on his cock, he allowed himself to succumb to this strange and sudden urge that had overtaken him.  He worked himself quickly, wanting to get it over with before he was caught, but he found himself faced with a brand new problem on top of everything else.  Even as he tried to finish, he found himself frustratingly unable to.  His arousal only heightened as he worked himself, and soon his own touch wasn’t even pleasurable.  He clenched his jaw tightly as he tried to find relief that never came, switching from using just his fingers to a iron-tight grip along the shaft.  It was better, but still not enough.

He barely heard the approaching footsteps before it was too late.  Loki froze as the servant reappeared, looking into his alcove with concern.  Glad to be hidden behind his desk, Loki still could not pull his hand away.

“Is everything well?” she asked.

Loki barely managed to nod.  Even as the girl stared at him, certainly able to tell what he was doing even with the desk between them, Loki could barely contain the rising lust with him.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” he said, his voice strained as he struggled to control himself.

If he moved a single muscle, it would be to leap up and bend the girl over the desk and take her right there.  Even as the thought flashed through his mind, it horrified him.

“Leave me,” he said, his entire body trembling as he fought against every urge that consumed him in that moment.

For a moment, she stood still, staring at him.  He thought she might never leave, and he feared what he might do if she didn’t.  Finally, she nodded and slowly turned away.  Before her footsteps even faded, Loki’s hand took over, squeezing his cock and working it so hard it nearly hurt.  With his other hand, Loki clamped his own mouth shut, holding back a startled and strained shout as he finally spent inside his breeches.

As he slowly regained his wits and clarity, Loki looked over the entire situation before him.  His hand still down the front of his breeches, and the servant still no doubt nearby, all he could do was flee.  He pulled his hand free and stood, walking through shadows to return to his chambers immediately.  Even though he was half hard again, Loki leaned against his desk and breathed through it.  Slowly, agonisingly, his lust subsided on its own.  He looked down at his hand, covered in a sticky web of his own seed.

“What the hel was that?” he asked himself, still panting.

Looking around his chambers, he decided what he needed most at that moment was a bath, followed by a nap.

Loki avoided the library after that, if only to avoid running into the same servant again.  As tempted as he was to find out who she was and have her dismissed, he knew she hadn’t actually done anything to warrant it.  He was the one who had behaved like an animal, but he certainly wasn’t going to apologise to a servant for anything.

It was far easier to just work from the solitude of his own chambers.

Though whatever had overcome him seemed to be some brief, if bizarre show of nerves or stress, and seemed to have passed.  His work got done, and when he dared to show himself in public again, Odin continued to scrutinise his every action.  For the first time, Odin’s heavy stare wasn’t a source of vexation.  This time, Loki couldn’t help but feel like he’d earned it.  But it soon became clear that if the girl had seen anything, she had kept it to herself.  His lapse of self control went unmentioned, even by Odin.

Loki sat through tedious meetings and listened to impoverished jarls beg for gold, filling his day with a dull tedium that couldn’t end quickly enough.  When banquet was finally served, Loki could not get to the hall fast enough.  He took his usual spot amongst the usual crowd, drinking too much and laughing at jokes that weren’t funny as usual.  But something was different.  Even then, he was distracted by something that pulled not at his mind, but rather stretched it thin so he could focus on nothing at all.  He gave up trying to feign interest in Volstagg’s boastful stories and watched the crowd instead.  Servants came and went, keeping mead and ale flowing, and plates full, while those of status enjoyed their meal and their evening.

He found his attention drifting to Freyja, watching as she laughed with the other women in her circle.  He had never really noticed her before, but now he couldn’t help but notice her.  It took a concentrated effort not to stare, but when he saw her excuse herself and leave, Loki found himself rising to follow her.  He caught up with her after only a few steps, having no idea what he was doing, or why he was doing it.

“Care for an escort?” he asked.

She smiled tightly at him.  The sort of smile that suggested she was too polite to say no.  But when he offered his arm, she took it. 

“What do you want, Loki?” Freyja asked, holding her head high and looking pointedly away from him.

He wanted to fuck her.  He resisted the urge to look down to see how badly he was straining his breeches, worried he might be about to burst right through the laces.  But he didn’t look down, so she didn’t look down.  Instead, she looked up and only focused on his face.

“I thought you might like some company,” he said as he let her lead the way through the corridors to her chambers.

Again, she smiled tightly at him, but said nothing.  Together, they walked in silence until the din from the hall was replaced only by the echo of their shoes on the stone floors.  As they turned around a dimly-lit corridor, Loki turned too sharply, forcing Freyja up against the wall.

“Loki, what do you think you’re doing?” Freyja asked, annoyance replacing her wary politeness.

Loki didn’t know what he was doing.  Even as he caged her against the wall with his arms, he didn’t know what he was doing.  He realised he was nearly panting as he looked down at her body, fighting against everything he wanted to do in that moment.

“Step aside, Loki,” Freyja said. 

She was no longer annoyed.  She was afraid.  Loki wanted to step back.  He wanted to run and hide.  Instead, he shook his head and stepped closer, pinning her against the wall with his body.  She tried to back away, but she was trapped.  Horrified at what he was doing, Loki held her there, their bodies so close he could feel her starting to tremble.  He leaned down, pressing his face against her neck and breathing deep as he began rutting against her through layers of fabric and leather. 

“Loki!” Freyja said, trying to shove him away.  “Get off of me!”

He tried.  He leaned back, intending with everything that remained of his mind to step away.  Instead, he reached for the laces on his breeches and pulled them open.  His cock was hard and aching, and with it in one hand, he used the other to try to find the hem of Freyja’s skirts to expose her cunt.  He used his body to hold her against the wall as he fumbled with his hand.  Once he found his way past her skirts, his fingers found her cunt.  He couldn’t stop himself, still rutting against her even has he forced his fingers inside her.  She screamed and hit him with her fists, even as Loki forced himself between her legs.  Before he could get any farther, Loki was violently pulled back and thrown to the floor.  He watched, confused as Freyja ran away, and then looked up to see a pair of Einherjar above him, along with his father and his ever-present disapproval.

“Take him,” Odin said.

Not even giving him a chance to put himself back together, the guards grabbed him by his arms and hauled him to his feet.  One of them bound his hands behind his back, which he was frankly grateful for, if only to keep him from doing anything else he’d regret.  For just a moment, he was forced to look Odin in the eye, and all he could do was shake his head in confusion.

He expected to be dragged of to the dungeons for what he had done, but was surprised when they took a different route instead.  Instead, he was taken to Odin’s own hall, and led to a chair near the table.  Looking down and realising he was still unlaced, Loki sat, trying to find a way to look even remotely dignified in his state.  One of the guards helpfully picked up a nearby fur and tossed it over Loki, without taking any particular care in his aim.  Loki shook his head as the fur fell over his face, coaxing it to fall down over his chest and lap.  It wasn’t ideal, but at least his prick wasn’t hanging out while his father cast him out of the realm.  It was still hard though, and Loki used every ounce of will he had to keep from rutting against the blanket that covered him.

Finally, Odin nodded and the guards retreated, leaving just the two of them alone in the hall.  But the shouting and screaming never came.  Instead came Odin’s disappointment, which was somehow worse.

“I’d feared this would happen,” he said, looking not at Loki, but to the floor.  “I’d hoped I was wrong, but it was only a matter of time.”

Loki shook his head, having no idea what had just happened, or what his father was talking about.

“I don’t follow,” he said, still straining in his seat.

Odin took a deep breath and leaned against the table.  Loki wished he would scream and shout and get angry.  At the very least, it was what Loki deserved.  But he did none of that.  He stood quiet for a long moment, only managing to frighten Loki, more than anything.

“For years, I have struggled to find the best way to protect you,” Odin said.

This was not the conversation Loki had expected to be having.  All his expectations evaporated, because none of this was going as it should have.  He could only stare up at Odin in confusion, unable to even form a single question to ask.

“I knew I had been too long in coming to a decision when Laufey’s envoy arrived,” Odin said.

Loki still didn’t understand, and shook his head.  Maybe if he did it enough, he might rattle loose some ability to follow this conversation.

“And now I see you have discovered why we must isolate them from the women when they come,” Odin said.

It still wasn’t making sense.

“I don’t understand,” Loki said, finally finding his voice again.

Odin looked down at his hands for a long moment, drawing a silence between them that spanned centuries.  Then, he stepped forward and drew his thumb over Loki’s jaw, bringing with it a harsh burn that drove deep into his flesh.  Loki rarely saw his father perform seiðr, but it was obvious that’s what had just happened.  As Loki looked frantically around the hall for any clue as to what had been done, Odin stepped around behind him and unbound his hands.  At once, Loki brought them in front of him to massage his wrists where the cuffs had dug into his flesh, but stopped short at the sight of them; blue, with raise ridges like scars, and nails as black as ink.

Loki flailed and shouted at the sight of it, flinging himself backwards into his seat, and only stopping as he crashed back onto the floor.  Odin stood over him, looking down at him with that same disappointment that cut straight through Loki.  Not wanting to remain quite so vulnerable, Loki scrambled to his feet, once more remembering his open laces.  He fumbled to tie them as he put distance between himself and Odin, not sure if he should be prepared to fight or flee.

“What is this?” he asked.  “Am I cursed?”

“No,” Odin said. 

Loki looked down at himself once more, his stomach roiling at the sight of his hands.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

Odin stayed where he was, keeping the distance between them. 

“I brought you here.  From Jötunheimr,” he said after a long moment.  “I hid you in hopes of protecting you.  From Asgard, and from yourself.”

His words still made no sense.  Loki looked up at Odin, again shaking his head.  He tried to force the pieces into place, but his mind refused to slow down.  When before he was too dumbstruck to think of a single question, now his mind was full of them.

“Protect me from myself?” he asked.  “What…?”

Then, he remembered the envoy.  The segregation through the entire visit.  The disruption to the entire palace.

If they so much as look at a woman, they turn feral.

He shook his head again.

“What are you saying?” he asked.

“I’m saying,” Odin said, his disappointment now heavier than ever, “that I am no longer certain whether my own son can be trusted.”

Loki tried to argue, but his throat closed around the words before they could even form.  He knew exactly what he had done, as horrible as it was, even if it wasn’t as horrible as it could have been.  He looked down at his hands once again, and found his legs suddenly unable to support his own weight.  He slowly fell as his legs gave way beneath him, sitting hopelessly on the cold floor.

“I’m a monster,” he said.

“No,” Odin said.

To Loki’s surprise, he stepped close to Loki then, dropping his hand onto Loki’s shoulder.

“But you must be caged until you can learn to control yourself,” Odin said.

Loki nodded.  He hated it, but he hated even more the thought of what he would have done had he not been stopped.

“And this?” he asked, looking at his hands still.

Again, Odin took a deep breath.  “I had hoped that in putting you in a different form, it might suppress that part of you.  But I couldn’t know for certain.”

Loki snorted.  “Until I lost my mind, you mean?”

He didn’t like the silence that followed, brief though it was.

“Yes,” Odin said.

Taking a long moment to just breathe and gather his thoughts, Loki continued to stare down at his hands.  His nails weren’t the cracked and chipped nails he might have expected.  They were trimmed and groomed, and his own.  Aside from the colour, his hands were his own.  But he still knew he couldn’t be seen like this.  Because despite everything, he knew Odin was right.

Asgard would eat him alive.

“And this?” he asked, gesturing vaguely to himself.

“You’re a smart boy.  You’ll figure it out,” Odin said.

Loki nodded.  It was a puzzle to solve, but not one he thought he had the fortitude to solve.

“Can I at least trust my son to see his way back to his own chambers?” Odin asked.

Loki wanted to be offended.  He wanted to bitterly resent Odin’s question.  Instead, he shook his head.

“No,” he said.

He didn’t even trust himself.  Not after everything that had already happened.  Not after everything he’d already done.

Odin nodded, stepping away from him.

“Then the guards will escort you,” he said.  “You are not to leave to leave your chambers.  You are not to entertain visitors without a chaperone.  A suitable story will be fabricated, and nothing will be said about your actions tonight.  Am I clear?”

Loki nodded.  “Yes,” he said.

“Good,” said Odin.

He opened the door, even as Loki cried out wordlessly in protest.  A moment later, both guards returned, glaring pure venom at him where he still sat on the floor.  As they hauled him back to his feet, he was surprised that they didn’t restrain him again, though they did hold onto him tightly enough to hurt.

“Return him to his chambers.  Do not let him leave,” Odin said.

Loki didn’t expect to survive the journey through the palace, but the guards at least spared him the risk of being seen and took him through dark and hidden paths.  The simple fear of being caught was punishment enough, and all the convincing Loki need to do as he was told and stay put.  At least until he could figure out this new problem.

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