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The Chitauri's Revenge	By : SaChanPwns Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 7806 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers, nor do I make money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
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The Chitauri's Revenge
Chapter Fifteen
            “You must let me see him!” Yfulen threw himself against the magic barrier and ignored the pain that exploded over his limbs. He staggered and glowered at the guard. “Odin must know! Loki is not alone in this place! He is not safe!”
            “Stop your wallowing,” The guard hissed, “Nothing will come of that betrayer.”
            “He is not safe—“
            “This is Asgard, he is safe.”
            “Then how did I steal him from his chambers the first time!?” Yfulen snarled. He had gotten passed their barriers once, so when he felt the presence of The Other, he had immediately become frantic. Loki was in danger. The Other knew where to find him, knew how to dig into his mind, and certainly knew how to make him go insane again. It was only a matter of time, and the guard was not listening to him.
            For a moment, Yfulen finally saw realization dawn on the guard’s face. Finally, after about an hour of arguing with the guard, he watched the stubborn man leave with haste. His absence did not leave Yfulen alone, of course, but it settled his temper and nerves. This should grab someone’s attention, and he hoped it was Thor’s. Odin was a fool, and although Yfulen did not think highly of Thor, he would be preferable if Loki actually shattered.
            Yfulen waited until the doors were thrown open, nearly snapped from their hinges, to get up again. He stood by the barrier as Thor, dressed in only pants, stormed in. His blue eyes danced with anger, concern, and vengeance. The man was obviously livid about what happened to Loki, and put full blame on Yfulen. That did not matter, though. Loki was Yfulen’s main concern.
            “What is this danger you speak of?” Thor demanded, his hands clenched into balled fists. He was tired of Yfulen’s games. He had taken, tortured, and broken Loki; he was the last person Thor was interested in talking to.
            Yfulen froze where he stood. He looked over Thor—the sweat on his brow, the tousled hair, the nail marks on his shoulders. “What have you done?” Loki had not been in any shape to have sex and Yfulen could smell the young god on Thor.
            Thor scoffed and glowered at the Chitauri. “Again, what is this danger you speak of?”
            “The Other is here,” Yfulen ground out. He was containing as many insults as his brain could muster, his skin flushing hot with rage and possession. He should have protected Loki. He should have kept him away from this brute. “Which means that if he manages to get to Loki, there is no end to what he could possibly do to him… or make him do.”
            Thor paused and then tried desperately to ignore the chill that began to spread throughout his chest. He thought back to how seductive Loki had been, how his eyes had glittered that strange blue, how he had been so eager to moan and whimper. What if he had not been himself? What if it was the Other? That would mean that Thor had left him, soiled and in his room, with the possibility of being stolen again.
            “You called me disgusting,” Yfulen scowled, “Yet you bed your brother.”
            Thor’s expression stiffened. Instead of responding, he turned on his heel and walked as calmly as he could out of the cell area. As soon as the door slid shut, Thor bolted for his bedroom.
- -
When Loki woke, his body ached. He attempted to shift on the bed, but the restraints on his wrists kept him still. When he realized why he could not move, panic flared and tears sprung into his eyes. He twisted against the cuffs and whimpered as pain exploded across his lower back. What happened? Why was he unable to move? Why was he on Thor’s bed? When the pain continued to throb in his lower back, Loki finally looked down at his body.
Vomit rose into Loki’s throat, but because he couldn’t pull himself away from the bed post, he ended up on his side. The vomit dripped down his lips and onto Thor’s bed. He had cum on him—both inside and on his stomach. He had enjoyed whatever had happened, and could not remember one minute of it. What did that mean? Why could he not remember it? If he was in Thor’s bed, had they had sex? The question made Loki’s mind reel. If they had sex, and he couldn’t remember it, had it been in his sleep? Thor wouldn’t do that, would he?
Emotional despair suddenly made Loki want to sob. Yes, he wanted Thor. It was something he had warred with since he was young. He had hated himself because Thor had been his brother. Of course, his misplaced affections did not seem so strange after learning that he was not, in fact, kin to Thor. However, it did throw fuel into the flame, lighting it so brightly that he had become fearful of his own actions. He was sly, manipulative, and knew how to get what he wanted. At least, he used to. Thor, though? Loki had always felt too tainted to even imagine the “Golden Son” touching him.
And now he had.
And Loki could not remember it.
It was then that the doors flung open hard enough to crack the walls. Electricity sparked in the room, crawling along Loki’s skin. It made him gasp, and he twisted awkwardly to look at the looming figure in the doorway. He could not pinpoint the god’s expression: fear, concern, anguish. Then Thor’s eyes landed on him, and Loki knew. He did not know how he knew, but he knew that Thor had not raped him. He had not done the terrible things that had run through his mind. This was Thor.
“Loki,” Thor’s voice cracked as he took a few steps into the room. He swallowed, dryly, and then blanched at the cuffs tying his arms above his head. “Loki, I—“
“Untie me?” Loki managed.
“O-of course,” Thor strode over to the bed and hesitated as he examined the cuffs. “Ah, Loki… I believe these can only be undone by your magic.” He looked down at Loki’s face and immediately scolded himself. The warmth in his gut was arousal. It was hard not to; Loki was sprawled out, flushed, dirtied, and asking for help. Although, when Loki’s face crumbled, Thor panicked. “Can you not use your magic, Loki?”
“I don’t believe so.” Loki felt ashamed—he didn’t even want to try.
“Loki,” Thor bit his lower lip. The Loki he had known would have rolled his eyes and simply forced the cuffs to vanish. He would have snapped at Thor’s uselessness. “Try. At least try, Loki.”
“Why?” Loki pursed his lips. What was the point? What would that prove?
“Because you have to,” Thor leaned over the bed, settling one hand on the mattress while the other stroked along Loki’s cheek. “You need to get better, Loki. This is a good start. Try to use your magic.” His eyes flickered from Loki’s eyes to his lips. They were parted, his pink tongue moving to wet them subconsciously. Thor stared for only a moment before pressing their lips together. He was worried that Loki would respond negatively, but he couldn’t resist kissing him. He had been out of his reach for so long, and Loki was positively alluring.
At first, Loki did not respond to the kiss. He froze, his muscles aching from the awkward pull of his arms to the throb in his lower back. Yet, the warmth from Thor’s lips made the pain slip from his mind. He ignored the alarms going off in his head. He knew Thor was not a threat, even if his subconscious did not agree. Finally, Loki broke the kiss by turning his head to the side. “Thor, I can’t concentrate.”
Thor was about to argue, but then realized what Loki had said. He smiled to himself and leaned back. This was definitely an improvement. Perhaps with affection, Loki would return to his normal self. Perhaps he was being hopeful, but hope was better than despair. He watched as Loki closed his eyes. This would have been so simple for him before this mess, but now Thor could see his eyebrows knit together, his lips pursing, and his cheeks flush. Yet, as the magic began to race through his veins, Thor witnessed Loki’s eyes fly open, glittering with sudden mirth.
The cuffs vanished, leaving a glittering residue behind. It was beautiful, and Thor’s smile widened as he looked down at Loki. “See, Loki? You just did—“ Thor stumbled back as Loki literally threw himself on his chest. He had to wrap his arms around Loki’s waist to keep him from falling, and he laughed at the high-pitched keen that came from him. “Was that you, or is there a serpent in here?”
“I did it!” Loki could not help the excitement in his voice. He had controlled his magic. His magic had listened to him. He had been stripped bare, used, humiliated, and tortured. He had forgotten what it felt like to have his magic run through his veins. He had forgotten what it felt like to use it. “Thor—Thor, I used my magic.” Then, without shame, Loki sobbed. He clutched to Thor like a lifeline, and Thor said nothing, which was absolutely fine with him.
After Thor was certain that Loki was hugged enough, he ran his fingers through his dark hair and smiled. “We should bathe, brother.” He did not want to talk about the Other yet; not when Loki had finally grasped some sort of happiness. Instead of letting him go, Thor lifted him into his arms and carried him to the washroom.
“The water is probably cold.” Thor mused as he settled Loki onto his feet. “Why not try warming it for us, Loki?” Now Thor had two things under his belt: affection and magic. He would give Loki as much attention as the man could stand, or at least until he snapped, and request him to do silly things with his magic. However, those silly things, like heating water, meant a lot to someone who had been stripped down to nothing.
Loki looked from Thor to the water. He preferred cold, honestly, but he knew that Thor could not handle the frigid waters he liked. He also knew that the heat would soothe the aches in his body. Slowly, both because of the aches and because he was still uncertain about how much magic he could control, Loki stepped into the water. Each step became easier, and as he moved, the water began to warm around him. He watched as little wisps of steam began to rise where the cold water met the hot. It did not take long for the water to heat, and knowing that he had done that thrilled him.
Thor couldn’t stop smiling. He doubted Loki knew how happy he looked as he treaded the water. After admiring the trickster, Thor shed his pants and stepped into the tub. He was careful because he was not sure how much Loki did or did not know about their coupling. He did not want to scare him, and if being naked in a tub did so, he would leave without complaint.
The water rippled around Loki. It was an obvious sign that Thor had gotten into the tub. He could not say that he was too weary. He acknowledged that they had had sex, without him remembering it, but he could not imagine Thor simply raping him. That was out of the question. Thor was no rapist, and he certainly would not traumatize him in such a fashion. Instead of giving into his fear and taking flight, Loki turned around and levelled his gaze on Thor. He had to get better. He knew that.
“Loki,” Thor hesitated. They needed to speak about the Other. “I did not mean to… I did not know you weren’t yourself.” He watched as several expressions crossed over Loki’s face: fear, recognition, acceptance, and finally forgiveness.
“I know,” Loki bit his lower lip. “I did not know that… that he still had the ability to… to do that.” He shuddered as he remembered how desperate he felt when that voice filled his head.
“We should speak to mother about how to…” Thor searched for the words and finally slid closer to Loki. He stopped when he shied away. It was okay that he was scared—Thor understood that. “We cannot let him steal you, Loki.”
Loki sucked in a sharp breath as his mind rolled out several of the events and tortures that he had experienced. His body ached, the scars that were purposely made to mar his flesh throbbing. He circled his arms around his waist, completely enveloped in the sudden fear that he would be taken again. He became dizzy, just realizing that he had started hyperventilating. Yet, he could not stop. Instead, he reached out to grip the side of the tub for support. His chest rose and fell sharply, his entire body trembling with the knowledge that it could happen again.
Thor was beside him immediately. He settled one of his large hands on Loki’s back while the other pulled some of his wet hair back over his shoulder. “Breathe, Loki. Slowly,” Thor circled Loki’s back with his hand, pausing at random to knead the rigid, trembling muscles. After a few minutes of repeated circles and massaging, Loki calmed.
“How…?” Loki had no idea how they could block out the Other.
“We may need to speak to Yfulen,” Thor was ready for a negative response, but when Loki gave a weak nod, he frowned. “Perhaps after you eat. I can wash you, if you’d like.” Loki nodded again, and Thor couldn’t help but smile. His brother may not be anywhere near normal, but at least he was responding.
Thor reached over and picked up the bottle of soap. The fragrance was entirely Thor, considering they were in his washroom. He doubted Loki would mind. After dripping some of the fluid in his hands, Thor began to run his palms over Loki’s body, swishing it into suds. He was happy that Loki was not flinching away from him, but he was careful of where his hands strayed. Whenever he felt muscles beginning to bunch, he would move away from that particular area.
It was while Thor moved his hands over Loki’s back that he finally noticed the scars. They were barely visible to the naked eye, but his fingers felt the ridges. His stomach began to knot as he traced one scar from Loki’s hip to the opposite shoulder. They were gods, and they rarely scarred. It had to have been repeated abuse, or something far more sinister than Thor could imagine, to have left marks. He wanted to ask Loki, to let him vent, rage, and cry, but he was not sure how to even start. Instead, he rinsed the suds from his back and pressed his lips over the tip of the scar.
Loki, on the other hand, felt as comfortable as he possibly could. He was able to tell that Thor noticed the scars, especially when he began tracing them with his fingers. He tried to stay calm, but his mind continued to whisper in the Other’s voice, bothering him, making him itch all over. He was dirty. He was so unbelievably dirty. Thor should not be touching him—not so kindly. He was not worth the affection, and even if he had been unable to control his actions, Thor should still be angry with him.
“Stop,” Loki finally snapped. He pushed away from the wall, and was satisfied when Thor backed away with his hands in the air. “Don’t. I just. You can’t.” He stopped because he was simply frustrated that he could not manage a single sentence. Instead, Loki grabbed the nearest sponge and began working furiously over his skin. He splashed it into the water and continued his frantic movements. The skin began to blossom bright pinks and splotches of red. Before he could draw blood, Thor leapt forward and grabbed his wrist with one hand while the other arm caught him around the waist.
“Loki! Loki, stop this nonsense. Why are you hurting yourself?” Thor slid his hand from Loki’s wrist to his hand, forcing him to drop the sponge. It fell to the water, creating ripples that danced along their waists. “Loki…?”
“I can’t. He’s in me. He’s on me. He’s always on me.” Loki shuddered. “You do not understand. I need to be clean. I have to. He’s on me.”
“No, no. I bathed you, remember? All the blood and…” Thor swallowed, “Everything is gone, Loki.” He frowned as Loki began to tremble in his arms. “Please, brother, please. Fight it. Don’t let him ruin you. You have a strong mind. Stronger than anyone I know.”
“You know nothing,” Loki snapped. He knew he was acting out of fear and loathing, but Thor did not understand.
Thor made a mental note that touching Loki excessively caused panic. Little amounts seemed to have no effect on him, but as soon as he started to pay attention to the scars, panic followed. He hesitated before shaking his head, “I don’t know.” He stated quietly, “Explain it to me, brother. Tell me what happened to you. I will listen. I cannot promise to understand, or know what you went through, but you can tell me.”
Loki wanted to pull his wrist away from Thor, but the warmth and safety of his large palm made him stay. He also tried to keep Thor’s gaze, but he failed. While with the Other, he had been trained to keep his eyes on the ground. Even when the Other ordered him to look up, he refused. He had learned quickly that looking at him only caused more pain, even if he was ordered to do so.
How could he possibly tell Thor what had happened to him? Surely, Thor would think him dirty. Vile. Untouchable. That was not far from the truth. Loki had been defiled in so many ways. That, and Thor was not entirely knowledgeable about his Jotunn physiology. Even he had been more than shocked when the Other had found, with his fingers, his more feminine parts. Loki remembered his initial shock when he felt that creature spread the lips of his sex and laugh. Then, without warning, that thing had taken him. It had burned. Something had torn. He had bled, and that was when the Other decided he would keep him in his Jotunn form. Three holes, he had taunted; three ways to ruin him.
Looking back on it, Loki decided that Thor couldn’t know. He would not understand. No, the golden heir to the throne could not grasp what tortures his illegitimate, useless, monstrous brother had gone through.
“Loki?”
“We must speak to Yfulen.” Loki finally pulled his wrist away from Thor. He was glad that Thor did not resist. He lacked the energy to fight him. Loki rinsed himself off and climbed out of the bath. Thor followed quietly, and Loki knew he wanted him to eat. However, he could not handle food. He felt refreshed after the bath, and that was enough for him to approach Yfulen.
Yfulen, who he had trusted not to hurt him.
Yfulen, who he had believed he fell in love with.
Yfulen, who admitted the Chitauri’s role in Loki’s imprisonment and insanity.
Loki felt tears stinging at his eyes, and he hated that his chest tightened. He had been more comfortable with Yfulen than he had with anyone—ever. He fumbled to wipe away the tears on his cheeks. With a small wave of his hand, he was dry. He left his hair in messy locks; it would be a lie to fix it as he had so many times before. He was not the same person, and he did not feel anything like the confidence he had before, and he had no energy to continue his lies.
Loki could hear Thor following him. He made no move to acknowledge it, however, and browsed haphazardly through Thor’s clothes. He knew he did not have enough control of his magic to conjure his own, so his brother’s would have to do. He picked out a pair of black trousers and a white undershirt. Honestly, it would look terrible on him. It was surprising that he still had some dignity left, but he ignored it as he pulled the articles of clothing on. He did not bother using his magic to tighten the clothes. They were extremely loose on him, but it would have to do.
“You cannot see Yfulen alone,” Thor advised from behind him. Loki was surprised by the rush of anger that hit him. He clenched his hands into fists and let out a shaky breath.
“That is obvious, Thor,” he replied as smoothly as he could. Despite that, his body trembled. He wanted Yfulen because he was safety. He was his constant in his torture. It did not make sense that he still wanted him. He was safe now. He should not feel the urge to run to him. Disgust followed his anger, swamping him.
Breathe, love, in slowly, out slowly. Yfulen’s words embraced his mind, and Loki obeyed. He took shaky breaths until he was calm again. Would he ever be able to think about Yfulen without his chest constricting? How would he feel when he saw Yfulen?
“Loki…?” Thor settled a hand on Loki’s shoulder, and was not surprised when he flinched. Loki shrugged his hand off and made his way to the door. He heard Thor’s heavy footfalls behind him. It should calm him that his brother was so close, that he was protected. Yet, he felt the opposite. He did not feel safe. He was a prisoner still, and it was difficult to come to terms with that. After all, Odin had been quick to judge Loki’s motives without asking him. He had determined he was a monster, a beast, with nothing more than an evil mindset. He had put him at arm’s length for the “safety” of Asgard.
The thought made Loki scowl. He had wanted to make his “father” proud. He had wanted to be accepted, despite his monstrous background. He had wanted to believe that he was more than the Jotunn beast Asgardians raved about killing.
Loki had simply wanted to belong. Now he felt he belonged with a creature destined for death. His other choice was Thor, but he was beginning to feel like a burden to him. He was unstable: emotionally, mentally and physically. Thor would attempt to put the pieces back together, but Loki had the suspicion that he would lose interest, just like when they were little. Thor would always run and play with those who had little to do with Loki.
Was it a coincidence that the one creature Loki found to be welcomed by was just as hated and disgusting as himself? Perhaps not. Monsters, after all, could not be loved by “normal” beings, like Asgardians. They were castoffs—hated because they were ugly or possessed strange abilities.
“Loki.” Thor grabbed Loki’s shoulder and turned him around. He had gone somewhere into his mind, and it concerned him. “Loki, we’re here. I wanted to be sure that you are okay to face him.”
Loki looked from Thor to the large doors that separated him from Yfulen. Where had his mind gone? How had they gotten here so quickly? He swallowed down the urge to vomit. He was going to see Yfulen, and he had to stomp down the urge to run to him and throw himself into his arms. He had to remind himself that Yfulen had lied, that he had set this entire thing up with the Other.
But didn’t he admit that he had fallen in love with Loki?
Hadn’t he claimed that that hadn’t been part of his plan?
That he was so unbelievably sorry to put him through all of that torture?
“Loki, he is an enemy.” Thor raised his hand to wipe away the tear tracts on Loki’s cheeks. It seemed that he hadn’t even realized he was crying. “He does not deserve whatever you feel toward him. He tricked you. He said so himself.”
Loki found himself swallowing down his emotions again. Yfulen was an enemy. He was not going in there to reconcile what he believed had been something. He was going in to get information, to interrogate, to find out how to keep the Other out of his mind. He shuddered at the thought. He could have easily killed Thor, at least, the Other could have. Why had he allowed them to have sex? Was that some ploy to destroy him further?
“Loki.” Thor’s voice was stern, and it brought Loki back to the present. He looked at the blonde closely before nodding.
“I know, Thor. I know he is the enemy.” Loki pulled away from Thor. He felt dirty as the words slipped from his mouth. It felt like a lie, even if he tried desperately to believe it. He stepped back and watched as Thor eased the door open. Could he face Yfulen? Could he talk to him without begging for an explanation? Could he handle looking at Yfulen?
Not wanting to relapse into another mindset, Loki shook himself of his thoughts and followed Thor into the cell chambers. If it had not been for Thor, he would still be here. Odin had demanded that he stay, even after his frantic episodes of hysteria. Perhaps he did belong here; he was a traitor, after all. Not only that, but he had fallen in what he had believed was love—with the enemy.
As they walked closer to Yfulen’s cell, Loki’s heart began to pick up. It was almost painful how hard it slammed against his sternum, and he was having difficulties controlling what breath he could pull in and out of his lungs. He had so many questions, but when they stopped in front of his cell, he found himself wordless. His mouth had gone dry, his hands trembling as he looked into the mostly vacant space.
Yfulen was sitting on the ground with his back settled on the wall. He was as relaxed as a prisoner could be, his eyes closed, his arms crossed over his chest. He must have grown used to guards moving throughout the area; he did not budge as they stood before him. However, as Loki’s own scent traveled into the cell, his eyes opened. He had grown used to that wonderful aroma that always surrounded Loki. Yet, he could smell Thor on him, and it made a growl rumble deep within his chest.
“Odinson.” He regarded Thor with little care, but as his eyes flickered to Loki, he rose from his seated position. “Loki…”
“Don’t.” Loki swallowed. His voice was pathetic—small, like a child’s. However, Yfulen stopped. He stood before the magical barrier, his eyes settled on Loki—his loose fitting clothes that were so obviously Thor’s. It sent rage and possession through his very being. His mind was still locked down on the idea that Loki was his.
“I am glad to see that you are okay,” Yfulen murmured. He had expected Loki to either go on a rampage or simply fall within himself. He had known the moment he saw Thor, disheveled and smelling of sex, that Loki had not been a willing partner. At least, not in mind. He watched as many emotions warred over Loki’s face. “Please, my little prince, I did not…” Yfulen paused. He knew that begging for forgiveness was useless. He would be dead within days, if not hours, and Loki was not here to consolidate him, much less forgive him.
My little prince.
My little prince.
My. Little. Prince.
Tears stung at Loki’s eyes. That term was so familiar to him now. It made his body warm against his will, his skin crawling with the need to be against Yfulen. He looked away from the Chitauri’s face while he tried, desperately, to control himself.
“We are not here for your worthless words.” Thor snapped. He shifted so that Loki was behind him and narrowed his gaze at Yfulen. “You have done enough damage. We have come for information.”
Yfulen thinned his lips. He wanted to slit Thor’s throat, to show him exactly what it was like to be on the end of one of his massacres. Instead, he pitched his shoulders and re-crossed his arms. “Do go on.”
“You were correct about the Other,” Thor groused. While he did not want to admit that Yfulen was correct, he knew it was pertinent to finding the answer they needed. “The question is: how do we prevent it from happening again?”
Loki was listening—vaguely. He was more interested in the other cells, at least, anything that was not Yfulen. Yet, he could still feel his gaze on his skin. He could still feel the thrum of power that surrounded him. It made him breathless. It made him ache. He wanted to be underneath Yfulen again. He wanted to feel his power as he surged inside of him, as he took his hips and all but pounded him into the bed.
When Loki looked up, he caught Yfulen’s heated gaze. He had learned during his confinement that Yfulen could sense just about any emotion through smell and feel. He could tell that Yfulen knew he was aroused. His eyes had darkened in color, his muscles strained, the muscle of his jaw ticking as he kept himself in check.
“There is a way,” Yfulen replied as he finally tore his gaze from Loki and resettled on Thor. “Loki is Jotunn, and Jotunn mate. If he were to be mated with a strong male, the Other would have little to no control over him. The protection of the mating rituals would prevent his…playing, as it were.”
Loki bristled and tried not to let his jaw drop in shock. He had known? Yfulen had known? This entire time, he could have told Loki how to get rid of the Other, and he hadn’t. He could have relieved him from the suffering and mental torture, at the very least. He could have protected him, as he had so effectively pretended to do before.
“Mate…?” Thor frowned and looked at Loki. He could tell that Loki was on the brink of a meltdown, and here was not the place for that. His sharp gaze returned to Yfulen. “He has to mate?”
Loki shot a glare at Thor. “Do not speak as if I am not here.” He snapped, and then moved to look at Yfulen through the barrier. “What do you mean, I must mate? Is this another trick?” He wanted to sound demanding, emotionless, yet his voice cracked and tears began to sting his eyes. What if Yfulen was throwing another lie around to get him into trouble? “How can I even trust you, Yfulen?”
Yfulen frowned. He could feel the misery leaking off of Loki, swirling around him in a mass of mistrust and pain. He wanted to ease his concerns, but after all the lies he had fed him, how could he manage to obtain his trust again? He shifted on his feet and then settled down on his knees so he was face to face with Loki. He wished the barrier wasn’t there so he could cup Loki’s face. When he finally caught Loki’s eyes, he flinched. There were tears there, and they trembled on his eyelashes, threatening to fall.
“Loki,” Yfulen murmured, “I know I have harmed you. What I have done… I cannot take back, but I would not let him have you again.” He looked over Loki’s face. It hurt his chest when he watched the tears slip down his cheeks. If only the barrier wasn’t there. “If you can find a strong male to take you as his mate, you will no longer have to deal with his mind games.”
“How?” Loki breathed, “How could you… how would that even work?”
“Two extremely strong beings, especially those who wield magic… combine their powers,” Yfulen tried to shrug his shoulders, but the thought of Loki mating with someone other than him made his blood boil. He ground his sharp teeth and worked his jaw. “It will create a barrier between you and anyone, not just the Other. Any mind that is not your mate will not be able to coerce or convince you of anything. Your mate and you will be… intimately linked. You will feel everything that he feels. Your thoughts will be linked. You two will be connected in more ways than you thought possible.” He scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand. “You just have to find someone to be your mate, and it will not work unless they are completely invested in you. Or you in them.”
“Who else knows of this information?” Thor was tempted to reach forward and yank Loki away from the barrier. The way Yfulen was looking at him was not okay. He could see the need in his eyes. He knew what Yfulen wanted, and he was beginning to believe that Loki was too blind to see it.
“Odin.” Yfulen finally broke his gaze and looked at Thor. “I have told him everything. He believes he has all the solutions.” His gaze flickered back to Loki. “You need to find someone, Loki, before Odin finds one for you. He will do anything in his power to make it work, and you will be stuck with a person that you have little to no interest in.”
“As if you were any different,” Loki swallowed and blinked. More tears slipped down his cheeks. Not only was he looking forward to life in prison, or so what he assumed, he had to be tied to another person his “father” chose? He reared back from the prison and shook his head. “I will not. I can’t. I won’t.”
“It is the only way, my little prince,” The Chitauri frowned and climbed back onto his feet. “Your own magic has already been tainted by the Other. You need another to combine with to protect yourself.”
“I will not just give myself to another! I would rather the Other use my mind!” Loki shook his head.
“Loki… you can’t mean that.” Thor frowned and moved forward. He took Loki by the arm, strengthening his grip as Loki cried out and tried to jerk away from him. “This is for your own good! You need to, and—and we can find…” Find someone? Who was he kidding? Odin would not allow the brothers to mate. After all, Thor was meant to be king and Asgard would not be happy with Loki being their queen.
“This is not your life we are speaking about!” Loki yanked against Thor’s hold, but to no avail. His whole body began to tremble as he thought about Odin pairing him with another being to keep Asgard safe. It wouldn’t be for Loki’s good, for his sanity. No, Odin would do it to ensure the safety of Asgard and her people. Loki would be mated and then locked away for the rest of his days. He would rot away with everything else that was considered scum.
“It is! Everything that concerns you concerns me, Loki. I am your brother.”
“You had sex with me!” Loki knew it was a low blow. He knew it, but he could not handle the demand that was put on him. Choose a mate? Were they mad? Who would willingly mate with him, knowing what he was and what he had done? Loki swayed as everything began to hit him. He had to find a mate, someone who was willing to take him. He had to watch Yfulen be murdered. He had to watch Thor take the throne and a queen, despite having been beneath his body, despite his desires.
“We were both in the wrong state of mind—“
“Both!?” Loki laughed, and he sounded hysteric. “I was being controlled, Thor. You were not. You were in sound mind, as far as I am concerned, or are you saying that you would offer yourself as my mate?” His grin was maniacal—just as insane as he felt. “Oh, please, brother, do tell. Tell me how you will convince Asgard and all of her people that I will be queen. Tell me, oh golden son, how happy everyone would be if I birthed half Jotunn babies.”
Thor stuttered, completely taken aback by Loki’s barrage of demands. He swallowed down his normal, thick-headed response, trying desperately to weave through Loki’s words and create a satisfying answer. Instead, he became stuck on the last part. “W-wait, Loki, you can bear a child?”
Loki froze. He hadn’t meant to spill that information. He, after all, had not been aware of it until the Other had so kindly informed him. He snapped his lips shut and flushed, his anger still radiating off of him in waves. He wanted to disappear, like he had done so many times before, but he was not in the right mind to do so.
“Loki, can you bear a child?”
“Yes,” Loki breathed, and as if he was with child, slipped his hands over his stomach.
“What… what about when we—“ Thor swallowed, almost nauseous at the idea that Loki could be pregnant with his own child.
“I can only be impregnated in my Jotunn form,” Loki spat, realizing the fear that had settled over Thor. “What a relief it must be for you.”
“No, that is not what—“ Thor flinched as Loki turned on him. “That is not what I meant, Loki, I…”
“Save yourself while you are ahead,” Loki hissed. “I will be in my chambers if you feel the need to pry anymore into my monstrous form.” His gaze momentarily flickered to Yfulen, but then immediately went to the door. He pushed passed Thor roughly. He could have moved around him, but he was angry, and as childish as it was, he felt some satisfaction with the way Thor stumbled.
After the doors slammed shut behind him, Loki took in several shaky breaths. He resisted the urge to sob. It would get him nowhere. No, he needed a plan—specifically, a plan to escape. He was not going to be mated. He did not care if Odin was king. He would rather die on an unfamiliar planet than be tied to someone or something he did not know. No, Loki would have to disappear to a place they could not find him.
Unfortunately, Loki could not think of a place, but as he walked toward his own chambers, he began to formulate a plan. If he had to mate, he would mate with someone he knew, someone that did not leave a sour taste in his mouth, someone who would understand that beyond the mating, Loki did not want anything to do with them.
Loki came up with nothing, and as he slid the door shut to his chambers, another onslaught of tears made him collapse to the floor
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The Chitauri's Revenge