Ensnared

frostprince:

mightofasgard:

frostprince:

mightofasgard:

“Then what are you to do with me? Surely a slave has no place on the council, or amid your warriors. You seek to keep me in this room, and even if you feed me the finest foods and see to it I am in good health, a man cannot live on that alone.  A house is no home unless it contain food and fire for the mind as well as for the body. I will die, Laufeyson, be in not in body in will.”

He stares at the back of the Jotun prince, awaiting an answer or a reprimand.

Loki has nothing to say.  He just wants Thor to stay, he doesn’t exactly know why, he just does.  He can’t bear to look at him, but finally he speaks, his voice soft, and raspy.

“Just, please, just… rest, all right.  That is all I am asking you to do, just rest.”

He gets up and sits in the chair near the wall, far enough away from the bed that Thor cannot see the Jotun’s face.  Loki keeps his eyes averted, but he can feel the Odinson’s burning into him.  He isn’t sure what he wants, he isn’t sure what to do.  He just isn’t certain about much of anything at the current moment.

“Why do you behave so?” Thor calls to Loki, who sits turned away from him at the opposite end of the room. “You should not be troubled for the sake of a slave, but sometimes weighs on your shoulders heavy as steel, Jotun.”

He wonders if he can guilt the prince into releasing him. Should he discover a soul buried in the icy depths of his heart, perhaps he can use that against him.

“I am trying to be kind to you, stop questioning my motives, Thor.  And I have a name, I would ask that you use it if you’re going to continue to speak to me instead of going to sleep.”  He pulls his legs up to him and places his chin atop his knees as he ponders this whole situation. 

He still wishes for Thor to stay, but there is a part of him that is beginning to wonder if he should just let him go.  But he won’t, he can’t.  He doesn’t particularly want to.  He’d rather Thor stay with him.

“If you wish to be kind to me, then let me return to Asgard,” Thor says, trying to keep the pleading from his voice. “None of this needs to break our realms’ ties further…Loki. I will make no mention of this to my father, and inform him no threat exists.”

He holds his breath for a heartbeat, hoping the prince’s mind has changed, that this nightmare shall be at an end.

Ensnared

frostprince:

mightofasgard:

frostprince:

mightofasgard:

He feels his temper boil over at last.

“I would have let you go! I have no want of you,” Thor snaps. “There is no life for me here, Laufeyson. I am a warrior and a prince, and here I shall have no purpose. What will you do with me? Keep me a slave until I am too withered and weak to be to your liking? I shall die all the same, it matters not.”

He has not felt so miserable in centuries, the last time being when his father denied him Mjolnir on his first name day in manhood. This is the same. He will rot here at the whim of the Jotnar, his body and mind forbidden anything but Loki’s pleasure.

With Thor’s outburst, Loki had to hold himself back from slapping him across the face.

“That is a LIE and you know it, THOR.  NO, I am not going to let you wither away!  And you, you will not die, so stop saying it!”  He snarls and slams his hands down onto the frame of the bed in anger, before looking away.  Loki reaches up and toys with the teeth around his neck, it is something he always does when he is upset.  It has a strange calming effect.

True, Loki wished to have him for his pleasure, but something about this particular Aesir made him feel odd.  He would not let him perish in such a miserable way.  The Odinson would see that he will keep his word.

“Then what are you to do with me? Surely a slave has no place on the council, or amid your warriors. You seek to keep me in this room, and even if you feed me the finest foods and see to it I am in good health, a man cannot live on that alone.  A house is no home unless it contain food and fire for the mind as well as for the body. I will die, Laufeyson, be in not in body in will.”

He stares at the back of the Jotun prince, awaiting an answer or a reprimand.

Loki has nothing to say.  He just wants Thor to stay, he doesn’t exactly know why, he just does.  He can’t bear to look at him, but finally he speaks, his voice soft, and raspy.

“Just, please, just… rest, all right.  That is all I am asking you to do, just rest.”

He gets up and sits in the chair near the wall, far enough away from the bed that Thor cannot see the Jotun’s face.  Loki keeps his eyes averted, but he can feel the Odinson’s burning into him.  He isn’t sure what he wants, he isn’t sure what to do.  He just isn’t certain about much of anything at the current moment.

“Why do you behave so?” Thor calls to Loki, who sits turned away from him at the opposite end of the room. “You should not be troubled for the sake of a slave, but sometimes weighs on your shoulders heavy as steel, Jotun.”

He wonders if he can guilt the prince into releasing him. Should he discover a soul buried in the icy depths of his heart, perhaps he can use that against him.

Ensnared

frostprince:

mightofasgard:

He feels his temper boil over at last.

“I would have let you go! I have no want of you,” Thor snaps. “There is no life for me here, Laufeyson. I am a warrior and a prince, and here I shall have no purpose. What will you do with me? Keep me a slave until I am too withered and weak to be to your liking? I shall die all the same, it matters not.”

He has not felt so miserable in centuries, the last time being when his father denied him Mjolnir on his first name day in manhood. This is the same. He will rot here at the whim of the Jotnar, his body and mind forbidden anything but Loki’s pleasure.

With Thor’s outburst, Loki had to hold himself back from slapping him across the face.

“That is a LIE and you know it, THOR.  NO, I am not going to let you wither away!  And you, you will not die, so stop saying it!”  He snarls and slams his hands down onto the frame of the bed in anger, before looking away.  Loki reaches up and toys with the teeth around his neck, it is something he always does when he is upset.  It has a strange calming effect.

True, Loki wished to have him for his pleasure, but something about this particular Aesir made him feel odd.  He would not let him perish in such a miserable way.  The Odinson would see that he will keep his word.

“Then what are you to do with me? Surely a slave has no place on the council, or amid your warriors. You seek to keep me in this room, and even if you feed me the finest foods and see to it I am in good health, a man cannot live on that alone.  A house is no home unless it contain food and fire for the mind as well as for the body. I will die, Laufeyson, be in not in body in will.”

He stares at the back of the Jotun prince, awaiting an answer or a reprimand.

Ensnared

frostprince:

mightofasgard:

frostprince:

mightofasgard:

Thor lets himself be led to Loki’s rooms after it happens. The other giants leave without a word, as if they have not just witnessed the runty heir of Jotunheim take his pleasure in the very snow from Asgard’s golden son. There is pain between his thighs, but the prince promises him salve and care, a thing more puzzling than Loki refusing to rise from his captive until he too had had his pleasure. That at least made some sort of sense - of course Laufeyson would not wish for his men to think him incapable of satisfying one of the Aesir.

The prince magics aside a wall of ice to give entrance to his rooms, and as soon as both of them are bodily through, Thor hears the crack and strain of the crystals reforming. He steals a glance behind them as Loki leads him toward the bed, and sure enough, it is as if the hole were never there at all. He thinks it must be an amazing gift to wield the ice as he wields the lightening, but he will not tell his captor such a thing.

He is clad in but his boots and the cloak on which Loki took him, and Loki commands he remove both as he settles Thor on the massive bed that Thor suspects he shall share with the prince. The bed is soft and, to Thor’s surprise, warm, a dozen black furs welcoming him to slumber. But Loki will have none of that. He has Thor sit on the edge of the bed and expose himself, letting Loki take in the puffiness between his thighs.

“Once I apply this, you may lie back and cover yourself.  But I’d imagine you’d like some relief first,” he says as he walks over with a tin that holds the thick balm.  He’s carefully cleaned Thor up with warm water and a soft cloth.  With one finger he scoops some of it up and gingerly applies it around the puffed skin and inside.  Loki slides his finger inside to the first knuckle for but a moment before rubbing some more on the outside.

“There.  Now lie back, and cover yourself with as many furs as you’d like.  If you want I can have the servants bring you something to drink or eat.  I’ll make sure the food is cooked, as I know nothing is eaten raw in Asgard.”  He pauses for a moment before casting his crimson eyes upon the Aesir.

“Why did you come here?  And why did you do so alone?”

Thor winces when he feels one of the prince’s thin fingers slip inside of him, but he merely applies the salve and it is withdrawn. As soon as the shameful cleansing is at an end, Thor tugs a heavy fur on top of him, covering his body up to his waist. 

“I have told you why I came here,” Thor answers hollowly to the prince’s question. “We believed you to be planning an attack…and I came alone because—” 

The truth is shameful, that he, like an eager little boy, wanted to prove himself worthy to his father by committing such an act of valor. He cannot tell the prince something so childish, not when the fate of his people is at risk.

“…because no one else would come.”

He stares down at the furs, feeling a fool, feeling weak.

“When will you release me?”

“Your people always think we are planning an attack.  For right now, all we want is to live in some sort of peace.  To keep our realm restored and thriving.  We may be warriors, Thor, but we are not stupid.  We know the cost of war, and we know how it can raze an entire realm if not careful.”

Loki knows he lies.  There is a bigger reason he came here by himself, with such arrogance and pride.  He just sighs and shakes his head slightly, but doesn’t try to pry the real reason from the thunderer. 

“Release you?  No, I told you the terms, and you agreed.  Don’t try to go back on them just because you lost.  You would still have me in Asgard if you would have won, so just get some rest.  And don’t even try to escape, because there are guards everywhere, and they will not be as kind to you as I am.”

He feels his temper boil over at last.

“I would have let you go! I have no want of you,” Thor snaps. “There is no life for me here, Laufeyson. I am a warrior and a prince, and here I shall have no purpose. What will you do with me? Keep me a slave until I am too withered and weak to be to your liking? I shall die all the same, it matters not.”

He has not felt so miserable in centuries, the last time being when his father denied him Mjolnir on his first name day in manhood. This is the same. He will rot here at the whim of the Jotnar, his body and mind forbidden anything but Loki’s pleasure.

Ensnared

frostprince:

mightofasgard:

Thor lets himself be led to Loki’s rooms after it happens. The other giants leave without a word, as if they have not just witnessed the runty heir of Jotunheim take his pleasure in the very snow from Asgard’s golden son. There is pain between his thighs, but the prince promises him salve and care, a thing more puzzling than Loki refusing to rise from his captive until he too had had his pleasure. That at least made some sort of sense - of course Laufeyson would not wish for his men to think him incapable of satisfying one of the Aesir.

The prince magics aside a wall of ice to give entrance to his rooms, and as soon as both of them are bodily through, Thor hears the crack and strain of the crystals reforming. He steals a glance behind them as Loki leads him toward the bed, and sure enough, it is as if the hole were never there at all. He thinks it must be an amazing gift to wield the ice as he wields the lightening, but he will not tell his captor such a thing.

He is clad in but his boots and the cloak on which Loki took him, and Loki commands he remove both as he settles Thor on the massive bed that Thor suspects he shall share with the prince. The bed is soft and, to Thor’s surprise, warm, a dozen black furs welcoming him to slumber. But Loki will have none of that. He has Thor sit on the edge of the bed and expose himself, letting Loki take in the puffiness between his thighs.

“Once I apply this, you may lie back and cover yourself.  But I’d imagine you’d like some relief first,” he says as he walks over with a tin that holds the thick balm.  He’s carefully cleaned Thor up with warm water and a soft cloth.  With one finger he scoops some of it up and gingerly applies it around the puffed skin and inside.  Loki slides his finger inside to the first knuckle for but a moment before rubbing some more on the outside.

“There.  Now lie back, and cover yourself with as many furs as you’d like.  If you want I can have the servants bring you something to drink or eat.  I’ll make sure the food is cooked, as I know nothing is eaten raw in Asgard.”  He pauses for a moment before casting his crimson eyes upon the Aesir.

“Why did you come here?  And why did you do so alone?”

Thor winces when he feels one of the prince’s thin fingers slip inside of him, but he merely applies the salve and it is withdrawn. As soon as the shameful cleansing is at an end, Thor tugs a heavy fur on top of him, covering his body up to his waist. 

“I have told you why I came here,” Thor answers hollowly to the prince’s question. “We believed you to be planning an attack…and I came alone because—” 

The truth is shameful, that he, like an eager little boy, wanted to prove himself worthy to his father by committing such an act of valor. He cannot tell the prince something so childish, not when the fate of his people is at risk.

“…because no one else would come.”

He stares down at the furs, feeling a fool, feeling weak.

“When will you release me?”

Ensnared

Thor lets himself be led to Loki’s rooms after it happens. The other giants leave without a word, as if they have not just witnessed the runty heir of Jotunheim take his pleasure in the very snow from Asgard’s golden son. There is pain between his thighs, but the prince promises him salve and care, a thing more puzzling than Loki refusing to rise from his captive until he too had had his pleasure. That at least made some sort of sense - of course Laufeyson would not wish for his men to think him incapable of satisfying one of the Aesir.

The prince magics aside a wall of ice to give entrance to his rooms, and as soon as both of them are bodily through, Thor hears the crack and strain of the crystals reforming. He steals a glance behind them as Loki leads him toward the bed, and sure enough, it is as if the hole were never there at all. He thinks it must be an amazing gift to wield the ice as he wields the lightening, but he will not tell his captor such a thing.

He is clad in but his boots and the cloak on which Loki took him, and Loki commands he remove both as he settles Thor on the massive bed that Thor suspects he shall share with the prince. The bed is soft and, to Thor’s surprise, warm, a dozen black furs welcoming him to slumber. But Loki will have none of that. He has Thor sit on the edge of the bed and expose himself, letting Loki take in the puffiness between his thighs.

Fracture

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