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What am I even doing here, Loki asked himself as he looked around the dusty and dimly lit tavern. A crowd of mostly unwashed commoners was getting drunk and rowdy at the old wooden tables, which were creaking under the weight of countless dripping pints of beer and wine. Dancing, laughing, and shouting unintelligibly at each other, starting fights and ending them in each other‘s sweat-soaked arms. Loki couldn‘t help but scrunch up his nose when a drop of sweat, spit, or beer landed on the arm of his coat. He eyed it with disgust before wiping at it with a corner of the washed-out tablecloth.
Thor and his friends had asked him to join them on one of their regular trips to the village. He knew that they often went out to some of the village’s many taverns and liked to drink and celebrate alongside the more common Asgardian folk. To say that Loki didn’t get the appeal was putting things mildly.
Despite how little he thought of Thor‘s friends and the company they liked to keep, Thor had managed to catch him in a very bored, and admittedly rather lonesome mood. Begrudgingly, he had agreed to accompany them for the night - as long as he saw fit.
Thor had tried to sweeten the deal for him, advertising a play that was supposed to be put on at one of the larger drinking halls that night. „You’re a man of culture, are you not Loki?“. Loki had only rolled his eyes at him, smiling humorlessly. „Yes, I am willing to bet that the fine arts of tavern histrionics will be most inspiring.“
Still, when the night had come he held his word and, clothed in a plain black wild leather robe, had met them outside one of the palace‘s many side entrances. His rather modest guise somehow still managed to get a „Really, you‘re going out to town dressed like that?“ from his brother. He heard Hogun chuckle but chose to ignore it and just shrugged. „I don‘t see why I should dress in lumps just because everyone else there does. I still have my dignity.“ The ‘unlike some others’ hung silently in the air. Hogun shot him a dark look, which Loki caught in the corner of his eye and enjoyed immensely.
Thor was eager to break the tension. „Well then, if Loki insists on his choice of royal fashion, then I guess it is about time we get going!“. And with a slap to Loki‘s and Hogun‘s shoulders, he steered them down the far-winding road to town with Volstagg closely behind them, whistling to himself contently.
„Is Fandral not going to join us, brother?“, Loki asked, a little out of breath already from trying to keep up with the pace with Thor and watch his step on the steep cobble-stone road at the same time. Loki wouldn‘t have been particularly upset about that circumstance, given how little Fandral and he seemed to like each other. It would have meant quite the improvement for tonight's forecast if the (other) annoying blonde stayed back home and didn’t pester him for once.
„Oh, did I not tell you that it is Fandral who’s directing the play?“, Thor said, smiling warmly. Loki lifted an eyebrow. „Is that so? That loud-mouthed, drunken Casanova had the time to get his hands off of his short sword long enough to put on a play?“ he asked incredulously. „Loki...“, Thor warned, „do not speak of my friend in such a way. Fandral is a most creative and witty soul. I‘m glad that he was able to get this chance to express himself and I‘m sure that he will do us all proud, right?“ The others nodded.
„Yes!“ Thor‘s smile returned. „Maybe you will grow to appreciate this side of him too, Loki.“ Loki snorted. „Yes, I will see to that. It is indeed very promising that Fandral chose an establishment like the Wild Boar for his premiere. I can hardly wait.“ Thor just shook his head, not taking the bait, and they continued their way down toward the village, drawn in by the lights and laughter in the distance.
Not half an hour later he found himself seated at the center-most table with Volstagg, Hogun, and Thor. They had already finished their first round of beers, even getting Loki to accept a second round. He had to admit that the rich drink did improve his mood and loosen the tension in his shoulders somewhat, messy neighboring tables or not. Thor smiled at him fondly over the rim of his huge glass jar when he caught Loki mindlessly tapping his foot to the tavern band‘s music.
The music came to a sudden halt when a bell chime rang through the crowded tavern hall. It rang a few more times and the lively commotion in the room started to die down as well, reduced to a quiet chattering and shuffling of feet. Loki could hear the scratching of chairs across the wooden floor as people finally started to sit down at the tables surrounding the elevated wooden platform at the end of the hall.
Loki couldn‘t really explain why, but he started to feel a bit anxious. His shoulders started to tense as he directed his gaze toward the stage and its drawn curtains made out of thick red velvet. He noticed a movement from Thor out of the corner of his eye and turned to see that his brother had raised his glass at him. A bit hesitant, Loki put his hand onto his own drink and let the glass clink with Thor's, liquid sloshing over the rim. Thor mouthed at him to ‘relax’ and Loki nodded before taking a big gulp of the brew at the same time as him.
The crowd cheered and clapped as two figures from both sides of the stage walked onto it and solemnly lit two torches in front, bathing the stage in a warm light that flickered and danced across the folds of the curtains. Afterward, they crossed paths without so much as looking at each other and exited on opposite sites. The bell chimed again, three times, and the torch lighters drew the curtains to the side, finally revealing the mid-sized stage in full.
The set was a simple one, fitting for a casual tavern theater meant to entertain the regular patrons. But Loki had to hand it to Fandral, or rather the person who had been responsible for painting the backdrop. It showed quite a beautiful landscape, an icy and dark forest on the right side and the entrance to a snow-covered stone cave on the left. A fireplace made out of rocks and already charred wood was arranged in the middle of the stage.
This time, Loki set down his drink to join the patrons in their applause. Now that the rowdiness of the room had fully calmed down, Loki started to actually look forward to the play. If it turned out to be awful, he’d have a reason to ridicule Fandral‘s ‘creative’ endeavor for weeks to come. The slight chance that the play was actually decent, he‘d have a good time. Worst case scenario: the play was so unremarkable and dull that he‘d have to sneak out during the middle of it and find his entertainment somewhere else. He doubted that the plays performed here had something like an intermission.
„BEHOOOLD!!“, a voice bellowed from behind them. A few of the patrons yelped in surprise, followed by relieved laughs and cheers as they all whipped around in their seats and saw Fandral dramatically standing in the swung-open entrance door to the tavern. He was dressed in a ridiculously bright blue, tight satin suit with an ungodly amount of ruffles. The laughter grew in intensity as Fandral theatrically unrolled an impractically long scroll of paper and slowly started making his way toward the stage, passing the rows of packed tables in deliberate and long strides.
„BEHOLD!“, he repeated, pausing in front of a young, red-haired Lady and holding eye contact until she blushed and her female companions started to giggle nervously, nudging her in the side while some others started to jeer.
Fandral finally broke the moment and pointed towards the stage, continuing his path. He held the script in his other hand, the long paper dragging behind him as he pretended to read off of it.
„Honorable guests, behold the tried and true story that lies before you on this here stage. A story to quench the thirst for adventure and blood-shed alike, to brighten your mood, lighten your heart and empty your glasses.“ Fandral’s voice rose on the last word, and as if on command, people all around the room lifted their glasses and cheered at him and each other. To his own surprise, Loki found that the smile that had been tugging at his lips before had grown into a full-on grin at the show that Fandral was putting on. He quickly schooled his features into something more nonchalant before Fandral could catch it, but still took a sip as well.
Fandral waved in the direction of the stage. „We set the scene, ladies and gents, in Jotunheim, where our royal heroes must not only face the ever-freezing cold of the home of giants.” The exposition was interrupted by a wave of enthusiastic boos. After waiting for a beat, Fandral continued. “Our noble princes will have to endure!”, he pronounced loudly while approaching Loki and Thor’s table. “They will have to use their brute strength,” Fandral raised his arm and clapped Thor the shoulder, who half-turned around and grinned sheepishly, not really meeting anyone’s eye. Fandral paused for the audience to catch up with the implication that said princes were actually present before winking at his friend and moving on.
He raised his voice again over the excited and incredulous murmuring and whispering that inevitably followed. „THEY WILL...“, he shouted and moved to stand right behind Loki’s chair now, resting his arm on the back of it. The hairs on Loki‘s neck stood up. “Oh no”, he thought, dreading his introduction, and just stared at the condensation running down his half-empty glass of beer. “… have to use their cun-TCHOOO“, and Loki jumped as Fandral‘s fake sneeze ripped through the air.
The crowd and the rest of his own table erupted with laughter and Loki felt his stomach drop. He couldn‘t even look up from the table, his face burning hot, but he could feel all the patron‘s eyes on him. He also heard Thor‘s shocked intake of breath, which was was naturally followed by the deep rumble of barely stifled laughter. Loki clenched his jaw so hard in embarrassment and anger that he heard his own teeth grinding inside his skull. Even if he had known what to say to the unexpected, audacious insult, he wouldn’t have been able to get it out. The burning in his cheeks spread to his neck and Loki just hoped that his hair was long enough that Fandral, that cursed little worm, couldn‘t see it.
So, this whole play was going to be about them then, Thor and Loki. Written by Thor‘s friend who happened to despise Loki. And everyone in the tavern knew he was actually there, watching it. Great. Loki desperately wished he‘d already put more time into practicing how to vanish.
After Fandral had exaggeratedly wiped his nose and excused himself profusely, he continued on as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just called Loki a... Loki’s jaw tightened even more. Fandral had to shout again to cut through the unruly crowd as he finally moved past Loki‘s chair and went on. „THEY WILL have to use their cunning WIT“, and he shook his hips suggestively, earning himself a few more jeers, „to escape this tales‘ gigantic challenge.“
Suddenly, Fandral jumped up on the stage, landing on both feet, and addressed the audience once more, the script roll now forgotten on the floor. „Dear Ladies and gents, I ask of you to follow me to that wretched place and pray to the gods that our heroes will return home with all of their bones and their dignity intact.“ He implored, before bowing to a loud round of enthusiastic applause and slinking away to the side of the stage.
Loki all but growled at Thor when he hit him in the shoulder, imploring him to join him and the rest of Asgard in their ridicule. „Come on, Loki.“, he boomed, still grinning. „`twas a joke! You know Fandral, he likes to joke at his friends‘ expense all the time!“ Loki wanted to reach out and throttle his thick-headed boar of a brother. He opted instead for wrapping his hand around the large drink in front of him and downed it in one go.
„Very funny joke indeed.“, he hissed out, voice dripping with venom. “He called you a strong, handsome hero and me, well, a cu-” - “Ah, ah, ah, we all know that that couldn’t be further from the truth. That’s why it’s so funny!”, Thor’s grin turned a bit desperate. “Right?”, he asked between his teeth as he looked at Fandral and Volstagg expectantly. “Hmm.” Volstagg hummed and nodded to himself arms crossed over his belly, clearly amused. Hogun smiled sweetly. “Of course, Thor”, he said and looked directly at Loki. “That is why it’s funny. We all know that Loki’s not a cu-”
A loud gong sounded throughout the room, echoing from wall to wall. It made the glasses jangle on the tables and showed that the play had officially begun. A chandelier was lit and pulled up in front of the painted backdrop of Jotunheim, hanging in the clear blue sky like the risen morning sun and illuminating the forest and cave.
„Good morning, brother“, someone squawked from the left side of the stage, clearly trying to imitate Thor‘s low, booming voice and failing miserably. „A new day is breaking already. Finally, a chance to feel the little warmth the sun has to offer us here. It‘s time to break from our rest and continue on with our glorious journey to the ice grove.“
Then „Thor“ emerged from the cave and entered the stage and the real Thor‘s laughter could be heard above anyone else‘s as the tavern owner‘s son stepped into the light – short and scrawny, just 17 years old and basically drowning in a rusty plate of armor and a huge red cape. He was walking with the broadest stance physically possible while casually tossing and catching a little carpenter hammer in one hand. The boy was wearing a wig made out of hay, his own brown and unkempt hair sticking out in several spots. The expression on his youthful face stayed remarkably serious as he let his eyes wander over the audience in the onslaught of laughter that greeted him.
Loki watched with bated breath as he waited for himself to take the stage. After the initial ‘joke’ from Fandral, he had little hope that whatever was to come would leave a single good hair on his character. His heart sank when a second, even higher voice sounded from the off. „Spare me, oh brother! There is nothing glorious about a three-day journey through this godforsaken place.“ And onto the stage stepped – Sif.
Hot white rage shot through Loki like a spear. That worthless little quim! How dare she. Loki hadn‘t even realized that she hadn‘t accompanied them on their outing. Now he knew why. Her unimportance and forgettableness had come to bite him in the ass. He wouldn‘t have ever assumed that she’d step a single foot in front of an audience, let alone have the audacity to impersonate him – the prince of Asgard!
The empty glass in front of Loki started to rattle where it was standing, untouched, on the table. Only Hogun seemed to notice it and he shot Loki a look between amusement and slight concern.
Loki felt like screaming as he watched Sif strut to the center of the stage, exaggeratedly rolling her eyes at her ‘brother’. The way her long raven hair spilled over her back underneath a gold-painted helmet with comically long, bent horns made Loki want to cut it off all over again. Apparently, Loki thought bitterly, she hadn’t gotten the message the first time. He could already imagine her tearful screams when she’d wake up the next morning, looking like a plucked, miserable chicken. Sadly, the thought didn’t manage to console him all that much.
Her outfit seemed downright indecent as she walked across the wood in long, measured strides. It was a cheap mockery of Loki’s black and green festive attire and it hugged her body way too tightly.
While Loki looked on appalled and embarrassed, the reaction of the audience was deafening. Male and female patrons alike were practically howling with laughter and cat-calls, whistling and hammering their fists onto the tables until the jars and mugs spilled over.
Despite their collective hollering and cheering, Loki felt the energy in the room start to shift. The pure drunken enjoyment of an admittedly blunt royal satire by the simpler folk had noticeably turned to a darker and more uncomfortable shade of scorn and Schadenfreude. Loki noticed more than a few charged and dark glances thrown his way and he could have sworn that some of the cat-calls were directed more at him than his female stand-in on stage.
It was like all of the room‘s eyes were suddenly on him and sweat started to prickle underneath his robe. All Loki wanted was for the flames under his skin to just burn him to a crisp of ashes right then and there – and take the whole tavern with him for good measure.
On stage, Sif was wearing a broad self-satisfied smile as she slowly looked around the whole room, her eyes naturally catching on Loki, who was visibly fuming by now.
„Even you can‘t lie, brother. She really nailed you!“, Thor spluttered, punching him in the shoulder once more before whooping and applauding his companion on stage. After Sif’s hair, Thor’s hand would be the next thing to go, Loki decided.
Through the rushing of blood in his ears he heard Thor mumbling to Volstagg and Hogun: „Oh, oh, seems like he really didn‘t like that...“. Hogun just shrugged and grinned ever so slightly, eyeing Loki from the side. „There‘s no reason to be upset. I think Fendral hit the nail on the head.“ Volstagg chuckled good-naturedly. „Sif is a very fine-looking specimen, on top of being a noble warrior. He should feel honored to be portrayed by her.“
Loki did not know how he made it through the next few minutes of the play without harming himself or the guests around him. Fortunately, his bother and his worthless friends had stopped commenting on him. After some tortuously long moments of him not being able to do much else than sit there and feel his heart in his throat and the burning eyes of the people around him on his back, he had calmed down enough to pay closer attention to the stage.
At this point, the scenery on the stage had changed to the inside of the snowy forest. Boy-Thor and – Loki gritted his teeth – Sif-Loki had happened upon a hostile frost giant between the dark trees and were currently hiding behind a large tree trunk. Thor was crowding Loki against the bark and almost smothering him, repeating „What should we do Loki, what should we do?!” into Loki’s ear over and over again.
“My trusty hammer is way too small to smash this giant.” The real Thor, surprisingly able to laugh at himself for a change, grinned and shook his head, and while Loki appreciated the much-deserved dig at his brother’s manhood, he couldn’t help but feel deeply uncomfortable by how close the two of them were on stage. Judging from a few nervous chuckles and glances from the audience, some of them had picked up on it too. Loki started to sweat even more.
“Come on, Loki, think!!“, Boy-Thor urged while shaking Loki’s shoulders from behind, knocking him into the tree trunk repeatedly. Meanwhile, the so-called frost giant, a locally known blacksmith in head-to-toe blue paint, was stalking around the woods, growling and sniffing the air like an animal.
Loki struggled against Thor’s crushing weight and managed to groan out „I‘ve got an idea! Please, Thor, stop, you‘re crushing me!“ At that Thor finally released him and stepped back with a triumphant yell which he immediately tried to catch with a hand over his own mouth. Loki sunk to the floor, catching his breath against the tree as they both silently waited on whether they‘d given away their hiding spot.
With the frost-giant apparently none the wiser, Thor shook Loki‘s crouching form once more. „Spill it out, Liesmith! What type of mischief have you cooked up to rid us both of this foul creature?“ Sif-Loki stood up, patted the fake snow off of himself, and proudly announced: „Using my shape-shifting powers, I am going to turn myself into a fair maiden to seduce and distract him!“
Boy-Thor’s and Real-Loki’s faces fell at the same time as the audience roared in delight and people began to whistle once more. Loki could simply not believe the lengths that Fandral was going to destroy his reputation and utterly humiliate him. Now he was shamelessly playing into one of the most awful and persistent rumors still being told about him, and Loki just knew that he wasn’t the only one in the room reminded of that particular story.
“How Shakespearean.”, Volstagg’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Who?”, Hogun said. Thor’s own smile had become a little frozen on his face and he kept sneaking cautious little side glances at Loki, who was practically vibrating with anger.
On stage, Thor ruffled his own ‘hair’ and sent some pieces of straw sailing to the floor. „Loki, you can‘t just turn yourself into a female and seduce the enemy every time you get into trouble. Why is that always your go-to option?“ Loki crossed his arms and looked at Thor defiantly. „Okay, but when has it ever not worked?“ Thor opened his mouth to counter, but no words came out. „That‘s what I thought.“, Loki snorted. “Now, if you‘ll excuse me, I‘m going to go save our behinds.“
The two men that had lit the torches before rushed onto the stage and held a piece of almost translucent fabric in front of Sif. They shook the piece of fabric, imitating the active spell as Sif-Loki reached into one of his coat pockets and fished out a lipstick. He lined his lips with the dark red color, smudged some of it on the high of his cheekbones, and smeared the rest over his eyelids. He took his helmet off and set it aside, shaking his long hair.
Afterward, he loosened the buttons of his leather coat and the transformation was completed by letting it drop dramatically to the fake forest floor, revealing more of Sif’s curves under much verbal approval from the audience – sans Loki. Finally, the two helpers let the piece of fabric fall and rushed off-stage once more, revealing a fully ‘transformed’ Loki.
“This is starting to hurt my head”, Thor half-laughed, trying to lighten the mood once more. But when he caught the murderous look in Loki’s eyes he just coughed dryly and looked back toward the stage, where the female version of Loki stepped from behind the tree and into the frost giant‘s field of vision.
„Hellooo, sir Giant!“, she warbled, shaking out her hair and batting her eyes at him. The painted hulk whipped around immediately, eyes growing wide when he laid them on Lady Loki. „Oh, great giant!“, she languished loudly, „I seem to have gotten lost in this deep and thick brush while fleeing from two very handsome but evil savages. I could really use some help to find my way home.“, she continued, leaning back against another nearby tree.
The frost giant basically leaped across the stage towards Lady Loki, the floorboards groaning and creaking pitifully underneath each heavy step. She took in a sharp breath and looked up at the giant who was suddenly looming over her only a foot apart. She smiled a toothy, soothing smile – so essentially Loki that the real Loki didn‘t know whether to feel offended, flattered, or creeped out that Sif could copy his mannerisms that well.
„I've seen those savages you speak of, but I've lost them.“, the blue giant said in a deep voice, surprising both Lady Loki and the audience with his rather sophisticated way of speaking. Was he not the monster they‘d all expected? Lady Loki gained a little more confidence and took another half-step forward until the leather of the giant’s armor brushed against hers. In turn, he bent his neck to look down at Lady Loki, red eyes boring into hers. “Do tell, what would a pretty lady such as yourself do in these deep and dark woods, all on her own?“, he crooned as he leaned onto the tree trunk and caged her in with his arms.
The tension in the room grew noticeably and the tavern fell quiet as most of the whispers died down. For a short moment, even Loki forgot what – or rather who – he was watching flirt with a frost giant, and he swallowed thickly against the dryness in his throat.
Sif gulped audibly, hands clenching at her sides. „Well, you see, I-I came out here in search of special mushrooms and to...“ she put up a hesitant hand to the frost giant’s bare chest and started drawing shaky circles with her finger. “A-admire the exotic scenery.“, she stated bravely.
A deep chuckle emitted from the giant. „I appreciate the honesty, my Lady. I have not anticipated to happen upon such a pleasant view myself.“ Suddenly, his hands shot down to her shoulders and in one swift motion swooped her off of her feet and into the air. Now face-level with the giant, she emitted a high yelp, legs kicking fruitlessly.
Then Loki remembered who he was watching.
He sucked in a scandalized breath through his teeth, but his chest felt too tight for air. Fandral wouldn‘t – couldn‘t do this to him! Letting a wretched frost giant assault ‘him’ on stage? Loki simply could not understand why the man hated him so much. What did he ever do to deserve this?
„Allow me to get to know you, mysterious woman.“, the blue giant groaned loudly as he wrapped Lady Loki around his chest. When he pressed her body against the tree trunk, Lady Loki shouted: „Thooooooorrr!!“ The giant shielded Sif with his body, so all the audience could see was her hands clawing his back and hear the obnoxious kissing sounds as he pretended to ravish her.
For a second, Loki‘s mind went blank.
When he'd come back to himself, he saw that Boy-Thor was pretending to whack the giant’s back with the small hammer. Then Loki realized that he was standing.
He looked around in surprise and found Hogun, Volstagg, and Thor staring at him. “Brother, I ...”, Thor began and Loki turned around to leave without a second thought.
Behind him, he could hear Boy-Thor yelling „That’s no way to treat a lady!” over Sif’s continued, muffled protests.
It all got drowned out by the roaring applause and shouting as he hurriedly made his way through the crowd, eyes wide and frantic. The laughter of the townsfolk increased in volume and viciousness with seemingly every table he passed, echoing inside his head, whirling to a crescendo with the rushing of hot blood in his ears.
He hadn’t realized it before, what with his body and mind under an incredibly high level of stress, but now he couldn’t help but notice that his pants had gotten uncomfortably tight. The leather strained against his crotch with every step, sending spikes of unwanted pleasure all over his body. Nausea crept up inside of him when, underneath the shame and anger, he felt the deep thrum of arousal.
The fact that it was there at all felt like the worst kind of torment. Another cruel joke at his expense.
The faces of the bar patrons passed by him in a blur and Loki tried his hardest not to meet their eyes. Of course, his jumping up from his seat and storming off had drawn quite a lot of attention from the other guests, so when he passed them, trying desperately to hide more than just his burning red face from their prying looks, some of them shouted and laughed right at him. Their gleeful voices and sneering comments followed him all the way through the main hall.
„Hitting a little too close to home, Princess?“ „Based on a true story, right?” “Ah, come on, as if you wouldn’t like it.” „Was he gentle?“
The blatant disrespect from these underlings was shocking to Loki, but he could barely register it, let alone react to them in a completely justified manner. In his eyes they all deserved to suffer greatly for this.
While their spiteful comments were passed off as merely jokes, only one of them dared to say out loud what the rest of them truly meant to say. Just when Loki had almost reached the door and was passing the last table, one man there spat on the floor right behind him.
Loki, despite his better judgment, turned around and stared at the one who had done it. He couldn’t imagine how he must have looked to the man, eyes wild, his red face a contorted grimace of shame and anger. The man held his stare with watery eyes dripping with disdain.
„Ergi.“, he hissed. Then he harrumphed and spat at Loki’s shoes again for good measure.
The gasps of shock around the table turned into screams as the man’s beer exploded from underneath his hand and shards of glass buried themselves deep into his face. A drop of blood landed on Loki’s arm. He looked at the red stain and, for a fraction of a second, the raging storm inside him calmed. Without a word, he rushed out of the door and into the night.
The cold night air hit his burning face like a bucket of ice water. Eyes stinging, he practically keeled over, gasping for breath while his heart seemed to try its damnedest to burst right out of his chest.
Ergi.
He could have rightfully killed the man for this insult.
Loki took in big gulps of air, blinking against the night sky until his vision became clear again. His ears were still ringing and his blood was pumping hot in his veins, burning in his neck and chest, in his hands and...
God, he was so hard he couldn’t stand it.
He tried desperately to will it away, to calm himself down enough to make this feeling disappear. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always circled back to the play and the way he’d been laughed out of the building, which sent a new wave of pleasure down his spine and made the erection between his legs throb.
Something had to be done. Something to distract himself and to restore some tiny bit of his honor. For a moment, Loki allowed himself to think of all the creative ways he could take revenge. Then he considered his options by their long-term consequences - something which he usually did not do at all. Whoever said that he couldn’t grow as a person?
After admitting to himself that burning the whole tavern to ash could probably be considered a bit too extreme in the eyes of most (and especially Odin), Loki landed on confronting Fandral. Fatally.
He pulled his coat more tightly against his body and put the hood on, careful not to draw too much attention from the people loitering outside the tavern, before slinking around the corner. With much discomfort, Loki hobbled through the grimy and thankfully deserted cobble-stone alley around the tavern until he reached the back entrance that lead into the tavern‘s kitchen.
A young servant was washing pots and turned around to see who had burst through the door. He opened his mouth, clearly intending to expel the intruder. „Don’t you dare stop me if you know what‘s good for you, boy“, he hissed at the kid before he could say anything. The servant froze pot in hand and seemed to think better than to stop Loki from crossing the kitchen and disappearing into the tavern once more.
He happened upon a small, dimly-lit hallway that lead behind the stage. A few guests and workers were hanging around but no one tried to stop him when he pushed past.
The nearer he came to where he assumed the blonde coward was hiding, the less he was able to hold back the hysterical excitement that had started to bubble up inside of him. He was just about to open his mouth and yell for the traitor when he heard a voice coming from behind him.
„Sif? What are you doing backstage? You‘re about to be on in the next sce-“
Loki whipped around and looked right at Fandral, whose face fell and paled. He swallowed. „Oh shit. Oh fuck.“
Loki was on him the second Fandral turned around to run. The man yelled and immediately went for a nearby backroom door. „Oh no you won‘t!“, Loki spat, as he kicked and scratched his way through the opening of the wooden door. Just before Fandral could shut it in his face, he managed to push inside.
Loki let the door snap shut behind his back and bolted the lock with one hand. A maniacal grin spread over his face as he watched Fandral try to hide in a corner of the dressing room, flailing and already yelling conciliatory words at him. „Loki, please. Come on...“, he implored, holding his hands up as Loki slowly stalked across the room, breathing heavily. Fandral wormed his way behind a clothing rack, shooting pleading looks at Loki over the mountain of frilly costumes.
When pity didn’t seem to work on Loki, he tried to turn on the charm, forcing a whimsical smile. He shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal. „I mean, come on Loki, all of that was just in good fun, right? You got the joke. You’re so smart, I know you got the joke!“
Loki huffed and his expression turned even darker. Fandral started sweating in earnest and felt ridiculously exposed in his baby blue tunic.
“Wasn‘t it funny? Like, at all?”, he continued to talk himself into trouble. “The others all seemed to have a great time out there.” Fandral gestured towards the door. „You have to admit, Sif did a pretty good imp-” He barely managed to duck in time to escape from Loki, who grabbed after him through the clothes with an angry shout. Loki snarled in frustration and jumped right through the rack, finally cornering him against the wall.
Fandral half laughed, half yelped when he realized his predicament, and lifted his hands protectively, searching Loki‘s face for mercy.
„You. Humiliated me. In front of. The whole. Village.“ Loki ground out, punctuating his words by pushing a finger into Fandral‘s chest. Fandral just shrugged his shoulders. “Well, thank you, but not the whole village. More like, a hundred people or so.” His smug voice quickly died off with a choked squawk when Loki’s hand shot out and gripped Fandral around his throat, squeezing tightly.
“I should have you drawn-and-quartered for this, you disgusting creature.”, Loki threatened, positively vibrating with anger.
Despite the white-knuckle grip around his windpipe, Fandral actually managed to look even more smug at having successfully gotten underneath Loki’s skin. “P-projecting much?”, he wheezed and grinned shakily while his face took on a concerning shade of red and blue.
“WHAT?”, Loki bellowed, tightening the hold even further. Fandral started to cough but that damned, stubborn smile wouldn’t leave his face. Voice almost gone, he mouthed “I know.”, and lifted his knee, pushing it right up against Loki’s crotch.
Unexpected pleasure shot through Loki’s body like he’d been struck by lightning. With a gasp he recoiled, finally letting go of Fandral’s throat, who collapsed into a heap and shook with coughs and laughter alternately. Still in shock, all Loki could do was stand there and watch as Fandral slowly regained his composure.
The blonde rubbed his sore throat and started to right himself again with a choked groan. He had an unnerving glint in his eyes as he stood up. “I know what you are, Loki.” he said, the hoarseness of his voice undermining the flirtatious threat only somewhat. “I know that you liked my play. One way or another.” Then he had the audacity to wink.
Before Loki could attack him again, Fandral turned the tables on him quite literally, and Loki found himself pushed back against a nearby dressing table. The clothing rack skirted away and almost toppled over in the process.
Loki was forced further onto the table, feet already in the air, until his back hit the mirror with a concerning crack. He screamed out in anger and clawed at the arms that were holding him down, using his legs to kick at every part of Fandral’s unyielding body he could reach. It didn’t seem to do much, as Fandral simply refused to release him, and Loki got more and more frantic in his attempts to free himself.
Even though he was grunting from the effort and pain, Fandral kept looking at him with the same knowing expression. It made Loki feel exposed, caught. He couldn’t stand it any longer, so he closed his eyes while he continued to struggle. Therefore, he couldn’t see Fandral reach for the piece of ornamental rope that hung alongside the monk costume on the rack.
His eyes snapped open as soon as he felt the piece of rope slung around his arm. His other arm followed suit. “What are you-!”, he started, trying to pull his arms away from Fandral, but it was too late. Fandral tightened the rope, one end in his hand, countersteering Loki’s movements, the other between his teeth.
Loki yelped in pain when the material pinched his arms, pulling them against each other tight until he could barely move them at all. Realizing this predicament, he immediately focused his energy on kicking the shit out of Fandral, but the man had already pushed in between his open legs.
Now that Loki’s arms were mostly incapacitated, Fandral could just hold his legs open and keep them pretty much still. From Loki’s slouched position on the table, he could already feel the muscles in his legs burning and starting to shake as he put all his effort into making Fandral lose his grip.
“I’m going to kill you!”, Loki screamed, straining against Fandral’s hold as he felt his own movements slow down little by little. This could not be happening! Fandral was going to overpower him and there was nothing he could do about it but lie there and take it. And to make matters even worse, he could still feel his erection pushing against the inseam of his pants, hard and pulsing with the excitement of having another man on him like that, even though Loki felt like he had never hated anyone more.
He tried desperately to reach inside of himself, find that space where his seidr flowed and pull something out that he could defend himself with, but there was too much chaos and confusion to find anything concrete and solid. So many conflicting emotions fighting for power, some of which he didn’t even have a name for yet, and each time he tried to reach in, searching for something, anything, it ended up slipping through his fingers like a loose thread, washed away in a vortex.
He resurfaced in reality, exhausted and furious. “How dare you! I’m going to skin you alive and make everyone watch and weep as they listen to your horrible screams and know they’re next. I’m- ah..!” His mouth fell open on a soft moan.
Fandral, ever the creative soul, had reached between Loki’s legs again, interrupting his fiery speech and rendering the threats just as useless. Without meaning to, Loki bucked against the warm hand and curved his back, pressing his thighs tightly into the other man’s sides at the same time.
“If I had only known earlier that this was the way to shut you up...”, Fandral sighed wistfully while he continued to massage Loki’s bulge through his pants. The pressure felt amazing on his aching dick, both a relief and heightening of his need, but he instinctively moved his bound arms to slap Fandral’s hand away.
Of course, he got immediately pinned by Fandral’s other hand, effortlessly holding Loki’s hands down to his own chest. Despite himself, Loki felt a moan rise from the back of his throat, a mixture of outrage and resignation.
“Come one. Know your place, Loki.”
The hairs on Loki’s neck stood up and his scalp stared to tingle pleasantly. He looked up into Fandral’s eyes and found such a deep certainty in them that the resistance against whatever this was started to drain from his body like water from a broken dam. His muscles started to relax one by one and Loki slid back against the vanity, accepting defeat for now.
“Why? Why are you doing this to me?”, he whispered. “What did I ever do to you to warrant such-” Fandral snorted. Loki shot him a dark look, so exhausted it was pretty much all he could muster to do. He insisted. “What did I do to deserve this?”
Fandral smiled at him. “Honestly? Many, many things. Half of which you’ve probably already forgotten long ago.” Then he crowded closer, bullying in between Loki’s spread legs until his pelvis was pressed against Loki’s own, making him flush all over. He leaned over Loki’s body until his face was close to the crook of his neck, the tip of his nose almost grazing the exposed skin.
Suddenly, Loki was hyper-aware of the thin layer of sweat that had started to gather there and he wanted to lean away, causing him to bare his neck even further. He was startled when he felt Fandral softly blowing air over his damp skin, raising goosebumps along the way. The tension from having Fandral so close and treating him this way seemed to snap, and Loki let out a confused moan.
The smile was evident in Fandral’s voice, even as he whispered. “But it seems that between you and me, Loki, I’m not the only one to think that you deserve this.”
Loki swallowed against the lump in his throat. He knew that he shouldn’t. That it would make this – whatever it was – worse. Or real. But he did it anyway. He asked:
“What do I deserve?”
Fandral looked at him.
“I’m glad you asked.”
Then he was thrown to the floor.
Before he even realized what was happening, Loki found himself looking at the caulk of the stone floor, hands and knees aching with a dull pain. His skin burned red under the rough material of the jute rope tied around his hands. Fandral must have pulled Loki off the table with it.
In shock and gasping for breath, Loki shook his hair out of his face and turned his head to look at Fandral. From this new position, he had to crane his neck.
Fandral looked ridiculous in his theater-clown get-up, and Loki could not for the life of him figure out how he was still able to exude such an air of control and superiority. He was beneath Loki in every way that counted, and yet... All Loki could do was look up at him and wait. Wait for whatever Fandral would do to him next while his body shook with anticipation.
“Now, that’s your rightful place, isn’t it Loki? You know it, deep down.”
Loki clenched his jaw and said nothing.
“It really suits you, either way.”
Fandral took a few steps forward, forcing Loki to crane his neck even further. A hot flush spread all over Loki’s face and down to his neck when he came face-level with Fandral’s crotch. He could definitely tell that the man wasn’t lying about liking the view.
Loki licked his lips nervously and immediately wanted to cringe at the ill-timed gesture. He did jump slightly when he felt Fandral’s hand in his hair.
“I’m not the only one to think so, as you have witnessed tonight.”
The fingers in Loki’s hair started to move, alternating between ruffling the strands and lightly tugging on them. Loki closed his eyes against the sensation and it didn’t take long before his whole scalp was tingling and every small pull set his nerves alight, down to his own fingertips.
“What did they say to you?”
The hand stopped and Loki’s eyes shot open, confused.
“What did they say to you when you were leaving, Loki? They were laughing at you, right?”
Loki nodded slowly, making the hand still in his hair tickle his scalp. His face grew hot again as he recalled their mockery. And his own reaction to it. Loki cast his eyes downward on instinct to look at his own lap and the reaction was the same. The heat in his face spread to his ears when he heard Fandral chuckle.
“Did they call you unmanly? A woman?” - Fandral’s voice turned to a conspiratory whisper - “Ergi?”
The dryness in Loki’s throat made the whine that escaped him sound even more pitiful, and the intense feeling of shame that came with it merged with the excited, steady thrum between his legs.
“Do you believe that some of them have thought about it? You, with other men?”
He licked his lips again and swallowed. Yes. He wanted to say, to scream. Yes they did.He knew that they did. He’d always known what they said about him, especially when they thought that he wasn’t listening. Instead of screaming, Loki just nodded silently.
The hand in his hair moved away and Loki felt like crying and he didn’t know why. But as quickly as the hand had gone, it reconnected with a soft touch to his face. Loki’s chin rested in Fandral’s warm palm while fingers carefully cradled his jaw. When Fandral’s thumb caught on his lips, Loki let his mouth fall open just a bit and he heard a sharp intake of breath above him. Something in Loki’s stomach jumped at the noise.
The hold on his chin turned into a grip, and when Fandral continued, his voice sounded darker.
“I can tell you that I have. Multiple times.”
Loki’s eyes widened and his head was turned upwards again. He was both surprised and relieved to see that Fandral’s face was starting to look a little flushed too, a somehow less controlled display of arousal than the erection that was currently still at eye level with Loki.
“Y-you have?”, Loki rasped. He would’ve never guessed that Fandral had been interested in him before at all, considering how much he’d always seemed to dislike Loki’s very presence.
“Yeah.”, Fandral sighed, looking down at him, scrutinizing. “I don’t know if it’s despite you being such an annoying, stuck-up brat, or because of it.” Then he started to slowly but firmly push his thumb in between Loki’s lips. Loki couldn’t help but moan as he let Fandral push into his mouth, and he pressed his legs against each other tightly to relieve the ever-growing pressure of his own arousal.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one with that idea. With his free hand and an impatient groan, Fandral opened the fly of his pants. Loki moaned around Fandral’s thumb when he pulled the hem down and got his dick out with a quick motion, letting it spring free right before Loki’s face. He could smell the musk, feel the heat coming off of it, and – embarrassingly – felt that he wanted to taste it.
Fandral grabbed himself with a hiss and started stroking his dick, mirroring the movement with his finger in Loki’s mouth.
“One thing I’ve thought about, you’ve already seen on stage tonight.”, he grinned. “But you gave me enough... incentive to think about many more. I have thought about you with some guards. Two men, strong and serious, escorting you back to your room after you’d been kicked out for ruining yet another party.”
He kept stroking himself while he talked and Loki’s body started to shiver with excitement at the pictures, at the fact that Fandral had fantasized about him like this.
“I thought about how you’d flirt with them on the way back, dance with them, throw yourself at them until they were all hot and red in the face. Such a tease... You’d pull them inside your room and make them close the door. I bet they’d be all over you at that point – desperate. Grabbing and kissing… You’d let them push you to your knees so the first one could take your mouth.”
Loki wanted to moan again, but it was cut short when Fandral shoved further in, pushing down on his tongue until he gagged and tears sprung to his eyes.
“The other man wouldn’t wait though, no. He’d bend you right over, push you down on all fours and mount you. I imagined how your voice would sound as he pushed in and took you from behind.”
Loki sputtered and whimpered when Fandral suddenly pulled his thumb back out, trailing some spit over his lips red and chin. “G-god..!”, Loki coughed, and Fandral’s own breathing had become quicker as he looked at Loki’s mouth with heavy lids.
“I’ve thought about you with an ally, a powerful ruler of another realm coming to visit Asgard, only to be ensnared by the effeminate, weasely, young prince.” “Hey!”, Loki wanted to say, but swallowed it down in fear of how breathless it would sound.
“Maybe he’d bring his wife too...You’d have to be so quiet, stay hidden in one of the strategy rooms that you have no business even being in yet. He’d pull you into his lap and touch you all over.”
Fandral had started to stroke himself harder, faster, and Loki could see the muscles in his legs twitching. He couldn’t believe how hard he had to hold himself back from sticking his tongue out and licking at the flushed tip of Fandral’s dick, glistening and wet with precum. Instead, he distracted himself by pressing his bound hands to his own erection that was still trapped in his tight leather pants, and let out a quiet moan.
Fandral groaned, deep and low in the back of his throat and grabbed the rope that was binding Loki’s hands. He pulled it upwards, forcing Loki to raise his arms and lose the delicious friction against his aching dick. He ignored Loki’s desperate noise of protest and kept pumping himself in front of Loki’s face.
“He’d be so big and eager too, maybe he’d even make you regret your decision to seduce him at first. But it wouldn’t take long until you’d be riding the life out of him. Poor old letch wouldn’t keep his hands to himself for the rest of the visit, almost revealing your little secret affair to everyone.”
Loki’s hips twitched as he imagined it, the thrill and the shame of it, of someone finding out what he’d done right under everyone else’s noses.
He would have never admitted in a million years, but there was a particular friend of his father that came to his mind. He had been unusually keen on talking to Loki, wanting to sit next to him during every meal and taking many opportunities to get him alone, even if it was just to walk around the palace. There had been no doubt that if Loki had taken the offer, they both would’ve ended up in that backroom – just like Fandral had described.
Apparently, the man’s… affectionate behavior had been obvious to the people around him too, if Fandral’s little fantasy was anything to go by. The idea sent another jolt of arousal through Loki and he pulled against the rope around his hands until it bit through the twisted fabric into his skin. He hissed through his gritted teeth.
Fandral looked at him like a cat dangling a mouse by its tail. His eyes had taken on this knowing look again and his voice was sweet and teasing as he delivered the killing blow: “I bet he’d love to steal you away, take you home and make you his new wife.” Then he put his shoe between Loki’s opened knees and pressed it up against his erection.
“Aaah, nnghh!” - Loki threw his head back, letting out a helpless, strained moan between arousal and pain. His hips worked themselves against Fandral’s shoe on their own accord in small, desperate thrusts, and for a few blissful seconds he enjoyed the pressure of hard, smooth leather against his dick.
“Look at you. Pathetic.”, Fandral stated while he continued to squeeze himself. The shoe between his legs pressed even harder and Loki whined and shifted his hips in discomfort. “Get yourself together, ergi. I have another one.”
“Do you know how often I’ve watched you down at the training grounds? Always sooo entertaining. I mean, you do try your best Loki, you really do. But without your magic tricks? You just don’t have a chance against most of the others. And anytime you’d been particularly annoying to me, I’d go there to see you fight and eat shit.”, Fandral laughed.
“I’d get so excited when they put you against those really, really big guys. Like Thor-level big. Because I knew that it would turn out so bad for you.”, Fandral kept taunting him, his voice sounding more and more breathless. “More often than not, I’d be right. You always tried so hard to put up a good fight, dodging and rolling and jumping around, but in the end they’d grab you by your pencil neck and wipe the muddy floor with you anyway.”
Suddenly, the shoe between his legs was gone again. Before Loki could have even thought to complain, he was shoved by his shoulders – hard. Since Fandral had let go of his bound hands too, he lost his balance at once and fell backward to the floor, not even being able to brace himself.
As he laid there, he felt a pressure on his chest pinning him to the floor, stopping him from standing back up. When he slowly looked up at the man above him, neck sore and already aching, he realized that Fandral had stepped on him. Like he was nothing but dirt.
Memories of the many lost fights began to swirl around his head, twisted and heightened by Fandral’s lust, and Loki curled and wound himself underneath his foot like a worm. To his humiliation, Fandral moaned at this and the hand on his dick sped up, filling the room with the wet noises of skin against skin
“I had to be so careful though,” he panted as he brought himself closer to the edge. “’cause it made me so hard to think about what could happen next, after they’d pushed you into the dirt and made you yield.”
The pressure of the foot on Loki’s chest increased and breathing started to get harder. His tied-up hands came up to Fandral’s leg, not pushing away just yet, but rather holding on, calling for attention. “F-Fandral.”, Loki breathed pleadingly, but Fandral just laughed at him and ground his foot into him even further. Loki closed his eyes and whined, more aroused and ashamed than he’d ever been in his life.
“The guy that beat you would be so big and heavy, not letting you up no matter how hard you pleaded with him. He’d make you get what you deserve, really show you your place...”
“N-no, please!” Loki heard himself moan through the rushing in his ears, nerves alight and firing all over, and he didn’t know if he’d meant it at all. Either way, Fandral just kept going, putting more and more images of Loki’s degradation into his head.
“He’d take you like a woman, right in front of the crowd, the other fighters. Me. Oh, you’d scream and cry at first, try to get away, pretend that you hated it, but you wouldn’t be able to keep that up for long now, wouldn’t you? Because you do love it. And you need it.”, Fandral ground out between clenched teeth, every muscle in his body taut and shaking, so damn close to release.
“He’d just hold you down, push your head down into the mud and mess up that pretty, pretty hair, and then he’d make you take it, again and again-” With a relishing groan, Fandral came as he stood over Loki’s body.
Loki twitched in surprise as the first hot spurt hit him in the face. The next one got into his hair, and he let out a pitiful sound at the realization of what was happening to him. He didn’t know whether to cry or to moan, but he did keep his lips shut, not wanting to get any in his mouth as Fandral groaned and jerked himself dry with long, tight strokes. He was lucky – in a fucked up way – as Fandral mainly came onto his forehead and hair. After the last drop had almost landed in Loki’s eye, he shuddered and sighed, deeply satisfied.
For a few long seconds, all Loki could hear was the beating of his own heart and the rushing of his own blood. He felt hollow but wound up at the same time, like a raging cyclone that carried nothing with it but air.
Fandral’s voice brought him back into himself, into the moment where he lay to the man’s feet, wearing his drying come on his face. He was still hard. “I guess I’ve thought a lot more about you than I’d realized...” At least he didn’t have the audacity to sound sheepish about it.
The muffled applause and cheering from outside the door was the first reminder that a world outside of this room existed, and Loki and Fandral both turned to look in that direction, listening to the ovation outside that signaled the end of the play while they caught their breath.
Fandral chuckled and looked down at Loki. “Do you think they’d care for a look behind the scenes?” With exhaustion and shame clawing at his insides, Loki couldn’t say anything, he just closed his eyes and turned his head further away.
“Hey”, Fandral said, “suddenly you don’t like the attention?” Loki jumped when he felt the cold tip of Fandral’s shoe against his cheek and his face was turned upwards again. He whined, tired and confused, but gave Fandral the favor of looking back at him.
Fandral smiled. “Isn’t that what you always wanted? For people to pay attention? To see you, to talk about you? What you really are.” This time Loki saw it coming, knew what Fandral was about to do, but he still didn’t do anything to stop him from putting the sole of his shoe onto Loki’s throat. He just bared his neck and took it.
“I mean, look at what happened tonight. The play, this room...”
Loki felt more than heard the thin whimper escape his throat as Fandral continued to crush him beneath his feet like a bug. He couldn’t stop his hips from twitching though, body strung tight like a bow from the fight for air and the release of his harrowing arousal.
“I ridiculed you in front of the whole room and you came here, to me, and dedgraded yourself even further. You were practically begging me for it, too.”
To underline his point, Fandral pushed his foot further down again, making Loki choke and gag around what little air he had left in his burning throat. “P-please.”, he rasped out, mouth moving almost silently. Loki felt so light-headed that if Fandral were to lift his leg, he’d surely just float away.
“They should all see you like this. This is where you belong and you know it. I bet I could just crush your stuck-up nose beneath my heel and you’d thank me for it.”
Seconds before passing out, Loki came with a silent shout. The overwhelming pressure on his throat was gone in an instant, and he started coughing and gasping for air while the powerful waves of his release crashed over him again and again.
When he came back to himself, he noticed that he was shaking, and he couldn’t stop making these pitiful sounds in the back of his throat. It was raw and hurting, and he could feel all kinds of bruises starting to form on his body. His face was uncomfortably dry and sticky, and the wet patch between his legs was already cooling rapidly.
Inside of him, it was quiet. The kind of quiet that came after a cyclone had cut through a village in its path, leaving nothing but destruction behind.
“So.”, he heard Fandrals voice before his face came back into Loki’s view. It seemed that he had put himself back together mostly, and now he looked curious, almost amused, at the pile of rubble on the floor that was Loki. “What did you really think of the play?”