Adult-FanFiction.org : Marvel 'Verse

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
- 15
- 16
- 17
The Chitauri’s Revenge
Chapter Sixteen
            “You have truly dug yourself a hole,” Yfulen murmured after the doors slammed closed. His heart, or whatever he had for a heart, ached. He wanted to hold Loki, to promise him everything and anything. Perhaps informing Loki about the mating had been too much, but he deserved to know. Yfulen did not doubt that Odin was already moving through names and picking out matches for his war trophy. Loki was no child of Odin, no matter what the old man said.
            Thor turned to glower at Yfulen. “This would have never happened if you had not taken him in the first place.”
            “Perhaps.” Yfulen regarded Thor with an even stare. He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “But I am a much better lover than you will ever be to him.” He could feel the blast of heat and the electricity moving over his skin. He was taunting Thor, and he knew that, but Yfulen believed he needed to be put in his place. “Your best choice is to leave him be for now.”
            “How would you know what the best choice is, monster?”
            Yfulen snorted. Instead of replying, he walked to the back of his cell and settled down on the floor. There was no doubt in his mind that if Loki had heard how Thor regarded him, he would have taken it as a personal stab. It would seem that Odin was leaving the kingdom to a child. He would not have cared, had it not been for Loki. He had started this plot with the intentions of killing the god, of celebrating in Asgard’s devastation at losing one of the brothers, but fate was a cruel mistress. He would die loving a being he could not touch.
            At least he could die knowing that Loki would be safe.
XXX
                Thor made his way out of the dungeons. He was seething, infuriated that the Chitauri could know so much about Loki. He had not spent a life time with him. He had not known the child that Loki had been. He did not believe the Chitauri actually cared; its acts of love and affection had to be false. Loki had to see that. He ignored the advice he was given and made his way to Loki’s chambers.
            When Thor arrived, he frowned. Ice coated the door, spreading from the bottom to the top and sides in angry spears. It was unlikely that he could get passed the barrier without breaking the door down. He sighed heavily as his heart sunk into his gut. He could tell by the various shades of light beneath the door that Loki was sitting there, guarding himself against all outsiders. The ice was not necessary, but he was unstable. Perhaps the ice had been unintentional.
            “Loki…?” Thor kneeled down in front of the door. He settled his hand on the ice. It was freezing, as was expected, but it did not harm him. “Loki, please let me see you. We have to talk. We… We cannot let Odin choose who you are to mate with.” He could see the various lights changing beneath the door, which meant that Loki was moving from his seated position.
            The door didn’t open.
            “Loki, please. I do not wish misery on you. I want you to be happy.” Thor closed his eyes while he strained to listen beyond the barrier of ice. “We can get through this. Together.”
            Still, the door remained closed.
            “I… Loki, I will be here when you wish to speak…” Thor slid his hand over the ice. Instead of leaving, he settled on the ground and put his hands in his lap. He would wait for Loki, just as he has always done.
XXX
            Thor’s presence was similar to an ache in Loki’s side. He could feel his brother’s body heat through the door. Perhaps it was just his imagination. Tears slipped down his cheeks as he listened to every word; his mind tried desperately to latch onto each of them. He needed that encouragement. He needed that hope. He needed to survive. It was a difficult thought, considering mothers throughout Asgard whisper horrifying stories about his breed to their children. He was the monster they hated, feared, and slayed without question.
            Had that not gotten him into this entire mess in the first place? Loki thought back to when he had demanded answers from Odin—how the man had fallen into his sleep—so utterly convenient. He scowled. If he had just known—
            Would it truly be different? A voice whispered. Loki froze and looked around the room. His heart picked up a notch as fear rolled over him. No, it was just his mind. It was playing games on him. It had to be.
            You are a monster. A freak. Even if you weren’t stolen, you would be a runt. Useless, fit for a whore’s work. Loki shook his head. No, that cannot be true. His father had been king.
            Until you killed him. Would it have really been different if Odin hadn’t stolen you?
            Saved, Loki told himself firmly. Not stolen, never stolen.
            Is that why, upon your glorious return, he sent you straight to prison. You can’t be trusted, even close to death.
            More tears. He could barely remember coming into Asgard. Even the woman’s shop was hazy. He had been in too much pain. Loki closed his eyes and thought about Yfulen. Big breaths—in and out. He shivered as he breathed, sucking in oxygen that he had been neglecting before. Even now, he listened to the Chitauri. Yfulen’s deep voice soothed his frayed edges, bringing back some clarity in his completely trashed world.
            How could Loki possibly mate anyone when Yfulen haunted him? What would he do when Yfulen was executed? Would he hurt? Why would he hurt? It didn’t make sense. He should loathe him for this. He should want to tear him apart, limb by limb. Yet, as his mind continued to teeter on the edge of sanity and a dark abyss, Yfulen’s voice is what came back to him.
            Perhaps it was because Thor had not saved him. He had not found him, as he had dreamed of so much in the beginning of his captivity. Even later on, when he would sob as the Other opened his body and shredded his soul, he wished for Thor. Why, then, was he yearning for Yfulen? Was it some kind of sick attachment because of his captivity?
            Loki was tired of guessing. He was tired of thinking. He just wanted answers. He deserved answers.
XXX
After what seemed like eons, he finally felt Thor amble to his feet and walk away from his room. It had been hours, and Loki assumed he was heading to his own chambers. Carefully, he eased the door open. The ice immediately returned to his body, absorbing deep within his skin. He always felt a slight chill when that happened. Although, it wasn’t unpleasant.
Loki closed the door behind himself. He may not have the full range of his magic, but he could certainly disguise himself still. Granted, he became a shadow instead of another whole being, but that was all he could manage. He moved swiftly and quietly through the halls, easing passed guards and slipping around areas he knew were watched. Eventually, he reached the double doors that led to the cells. This was the second time he found himself staring at these doors.
There had to be a reason. Why else would he be drawn so intensely to Yfulen? He tested the door, and when he made sure that there was no barrier, magic or otherwise, he slipped it open. It creaked in protest. He held his breath and waited for a few seconds to see if anyone came running. When no one showed, he stepped into the cells and allowed the door to shut.
            As Loki rounded the corner to Yfulen’s cell, he sighed shakily in relief. Odin was not there. He was not trying to “give justice” to the Chitauri. In fact, he looked peaceful, propped against the wall with his eyes closed. If Loki hadn’t known better, he would say Yfulen was asleep. However, as he suspected, his presence brought Yfulen from his thoughts.
            When they managed to lock onto each other, Loki’s heart beat tripled. It almost ached. He swallowed down whatever he wanted to babble, because Loki of Asgard did not babble, and walked up to the magic barrier.
            “Loki, my little prince, you should be resting.” Yfulen frowned and forced himself up from the floor. He walked over to the barrier and settled on his knees. It allowed them to be at eye-level, which he preferred.
            “This mating…” Loki began, ignoring Yfulen’s comment about rest. Yes, he was exhausted. He was starving. He wanted, needed, so many things, but he needed answers the most.
            “Yes?” Yfulen shifted uncomfortably. It was difficult not to look Loki over. He was so pale and so unbearably thin. The Other had done a number on him, and despite being in Asgard, he was still suffering. He assumed it was more mental than physical at this point.
            “What happens, I mean, how…” Loki bit his lower lip. The pull to be close to Yfulen was strong enough that, if he could, he would claw through the barrier. He had not noticed that need earlier, when he had been so enraged by the idea of being pregnant with anyone’s child.
            “There are steps,” Yfulen watched Loki closely. “Simple steps, but steps nonetheless.”
            “Tell me.” It wasn’t a request; Loki was being demanding, and Yfulen liked that. There was that small fire lit in his eyes. How long had it been since he had seen that?
            “They go in order,” Yfulen licked his lips, unable to resist himself. Loki was leaning toward the barrier, intent, focused, and he liked that. He liked that Loki focused on him. “First, the two must exchange body fluid.” When Loki made disgusted a face, Yfulen chuckled. “Something as simple as spit, Loki.”
            “Oh. Next?”
            “Then, there is the exchange of less simple fluid. Like semen...” Yfulen shrugged, but managed not to snicker at the expressions crossing Loki’s face. “Then, there is the exchange of blood. It’s the offering of your own life.” Loki pursed his lips and thought about his experiences with Thor. They had been small, and he had not done all of the steps with him.
            “Do you mean exchange, as in, drinking?” Loki wanted to squirm. He did not like the idea of drinking any blood. It was dirty.
            “Well, the blood, yes, but the—“
            “I get it. Don’t. Don’t say it.” Loki scrunched his nose up, to which Yfulen laughed.
            “The final step isn’t as simple,” Yfulen watched Loki evenly. His own chest was tight, constricted with emotion and guilt. “The dominant male would have to sacrifice something in order to save the other mate.”
            “Would that be me?” Loki raised an eyebrow and then pursed his lips at the expression crossing Yfulen’s face.
            “Loki, love, were you ever dominant in our case?” Yfulen snickered as Loki’s cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.
            “Just because,” Loki sputtered, trying desperately to find a defense, “Just because I happened to, ah, be less dominant of us—“
            “Less dominant?” Yfulen mused.
            “Yes! Less dominant. I can be dominant.” Loki squared his shoulders and glared at Yfulen, who simply grinned in response. “You never know. I could be mated to—to—“ And then his heart ached. Everything ached. He bit his lower lip. Who would he be mated to? Who could he trust? Would he even know the person, or whatever Odin happened to choose for him?
            “Back to the sacrifice,” Yfulen stated quickly. He wanted to distract Loki from his misery.
            “Yes… does it have to be… death? That would not make sense. How can you be mated to someone who is dead?”
            “No, not death.” Yfulen shook his head. “Any form of sacrifice. It could be the sacrifice of power. Anything, truly.”
            “But what if they do die?” Loki wrung his hands in his sorry excuse for a robe.
            “The bond will be broken, but not in the sense that you are thinking. You will still be able to protect yourself. Your mate’s power and magic will still stay with you. It has, after all, become part of you through the mating process.”
            “But I don’t want to mate anyone.” Loki whispered, his eyes downcast.
            “You… Loki, my little prince, you have to. There is no other way.” Yfulen wished he could reach out and touch Loki. He truly did, and despite the ache that Loki’s words caused, he understood the reasoning behind them.
            “I don’t want to mate anyone. I don’t want to have their children. I don’t want to be impregnated. I don’t,” Loki was beginning to hyperventilate. He had picked up the panic attacks while with the Other, and it always took time and affection for Yfulen to take him down from it. However, he was on the other side of the cell, and he was helpless as Loki’s breathing became ragged.
            Loki allowed himself to collapse on the ground. His shoulders and chest heaved in great bursts as he tried to breathe. Mate. Have sex. Have a child. Safe. Safe from the Other. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. It was his body. Odin may have “adopted” him, but his body was his own. He sucked in oxygen faster now, but his body was starving—from air, from comfort, from safety. He did not even hear Yfulen calling for the guards as his world began to swim and blotch black.
            “Big breath in, big breath out. Loki, Loki…”
XXX
            When Loki woke, he was lying on a couch. It was a foreign idea. Why wasn’t he on the floor? Where was his chain? The Other would be so, so mad at him for escaping. He took in a big breath, and just as he was about to panic, a hand settled on his chest. His eyes flew open to meet Thor’s, and once again, reality crashed into him.
            He was in Asgard.
            He was technically home.
            He did not feel safe.
            “Loki, sshh, brother, please. You are alright.” Thor wanted answers. Why was Loki in the cell room again? Why was he passed out when he got there? What had Yfulen done? He frowned as he tucked some of the stray black hairs away from Loki’s face.
            “Thor…” Loki wanted to sit up. He had the strength for it physically, but he was so tired. He was tired of being scared, of being used, of being treated like the monster he was. Instead of lashing out at Thor, like he should have done, Loki covered his face with his forearms.
            “What happened? What did that monster do to you?” Thor frowned.
            Loki reacted without thinking. He bolted up into a sitting position and threw as much of his energy into Thor as possible. The magic came out green, misty, tainted, but it threw Thor away from him. He pushed himself up from the couch, proud that he only stumbled a little from the overexertion.
            “Monster?” Loki spat, his hands tightening into fists. His voice was coarse. Too many emotions. He laughed maniacally. “Monster, indeed. Instead of using me as a pawn to get the Tesseract, he willingly handed me over to you. Instead of going through with the Other’s plan. Instead of stealing the Tesseract and killing me. Oh, no, he brought attention to me so I could be saved. What a monster, indeed.”
            Thor was used to being thrown into walls. He was unfazed, and as he stood, guilt swamped him. He did not know the relationship between Loki and Yfulen, and he had to admit that perhaps he was jealous. And, of course, he could have called Yfulen anything other than a monster.
            “Loki, I did not mean—“
            “You never mean. You never think. Everything must be your way, the gold, shining son of Odin. The true son. The heir to the throne.” Loki’s words were laced with venom, and they stung Thor just as they always had done before. “You are a fool who does not understand anything aside from you own wants and needs.”
            “That is not true.” Thor wanted to clench his fists, but he kenw it would be a sign of battle for Loki. He did not want to encourage it, so he stood still with his gaze leveled on his brother. “I yearn to make you happy, Loki.”
            “Happy!?” Loki laughed and spread his arms, gesturing to his frail, nearly incompetent body. “This is happy?”
            “No, but we can work on it,” Thor insisted. He stepped forward, but Loki stepped back. It was their normal routine. Thor would try and try, but no matter what he did, Loki would always be out of arm’s reach.
            “Oh, yes, let’s fix the broken god. Let’s cure him and hope that he comes back even close to sane.” Loki was seething now.
            “You are not broken!” Thor all but roared. He was tired of Loki taking the side of the victim, of the helpless, of the only one with daddy issues. He walked forward. Two long strides was all it took to have Loki backed up into a wall. He watched those green eyes flicker around in panic, searching desperately, he assumed, for an exit. “I am tired of you assuming that you are broken, that you are any less than what you truly are!”
            Loki held his breath as Thor came within inches of his face. He shuddered under his gaze, but defiantly kept his own. He was scowling, even if he felt like curling up and hiding. The Other had that effect on him. It was ingrained into his brain to cower, but with a wall behind him, he was unable to flee.
            “You are one of the strongest, most intelligent persons that I know,” Thor went on and tightened his grip on Loki’s shoulders. “You are sneaky, yes. You may even play tricks. But you are not evil, and you are not a monster. Your ways are different than a warrior’s, but there is no shame in that. And there is no shame in admitting that you need help.”
            Loki swallowed, but the dryness in his throat prevented him from any relief. He wished he could become smaller, and he loathed that about himself. He had become weak under the Other. He had become pliant, bending to his will, farther and farther until he shattered. Now, what remained was a pitiful mess that could not differentiate between friend and foe.
            “Loki,” Thor did not think Loki realized he had been standing there for minutes now, silent. It was unnerving. Loki had always had a sharp tongue. To see him go silent was either deadly or disconcerting. Needless to say, Thor was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Instead of encouraging Loki to respond, he pressed his index finger underneath his chin and tilted his head up. Their lips met, but Thor wasn’t sure if he had leaned down all the way or if Loki had welcomed the kiss.
            At first, the kiss was dry. Thor’s hands moved from Loki’s shoulders. His left arm tucked around Loki’s waist and buried his other hand into his black hair. He cradled Loki in the palms of his hands while he kissed him. A few moments went by until Loki finally relaxed and parted his lips. If he were to mate with someone, wouldn’t the logical answer be Thor? After all, he could hover over Loki to ensure he did not cause any trouble. He would be like one of those trapped queens in the Midgardian fairytales—mated simply for convenience and safety against an opposing force.
            Loki couldn’t help the direction of his thoughts. They tumbled in a mess while Thor’s tongue explored his mouth. Should he not be enthralled? This was Thor. This was the man he had dreamed of bedding since they were young. This was the warrior that, when Loki found out he was adopted, stole his affections.
            This was also the warrior who chose his friends over his “brother.” This was also the warrior who became less and less impressed by his magic and joined his friends in taunting of his “womanly nature.” This was the brother that, when Loki needed him most, turned his back when he found a woman. A mortal woman.
            How could this possibly end well for Loki? He pulled his mouth from Thor’s and turned his head to the side. He was breathing raggedly already, ashamed that his trembling body was still responding to Thor. His mind was a mess, but his body immediately began to warm as Thor’s mouth moved over his jaw and his neck. They had been arguing. How did their conversation lead to this?
            “Loki,” Thor squeezed his arm around Loki’s waist, tucking him as close as physically possible while still pressing kisses along his neck. “Help me encourage father to mate us.”
            Loki stiffened beneath Thor, and then he let out a sharp laugh. “Me? Encourage Odin, who would rather see me locked up and sedated, to mate with his golden son? Please, Thor, stop humoring yourself.”
            “I am not humoring myself.” Thor straightened and took Loki’s jaw into his hand. He forced their gazes to meet. “I want you, and… and it infuriates me when that—Yfulen—speaks of you as a lover.”
            Loki scoffed and eased himself away from Thor. It was better than shoving him off, at least. He adjusted his robe and combed his fingers through his hair. Yfulen’s name still made his heart pick up its pace, and he still felt a blanket of warmth whenever he thought about their lovemaking. No, Thor would not understand that.
            “Please, Loki. I would rather have you by my side than see you forced with anyone…else.” Thor’s voice had taken on a deep rumble, and Loki could tell he was fighting his temper. He obviously did not like the idea of Loki belonging to someone else. He watched Thor and tried to pull energy to care, to want, to need. But he was tired. So tired. He just wanted to be away from the Other, and if mating Thor would accomplish that, he was willing.
            “Let us go, then.” Loki tucked his hair around his shoulder. It truly needed to be cut. The Other had found that he liked his long hair, and would often force him to braid it. He supposed it looked appealing in his Jotunn form. His Aesir, though? It was just annoying.
            Thor immediately brightened. He slid an arm around Loki’s elbow, like a true gentleman, and led him out of his chambers. The walk to Odin’s throne was silent, at least, between the two of them. Loki’s mind was jumbled. It was difficult to see himself at Thor’s side. How would Asgard respond? How would her people react to a monster being the queen? Would he be assassinated? Would he even have a chance to be with Thor? That was the ideal safe place. Thor would take revenge on anyone who so much as threatened him. He was sure of that.
            Before Loki could make himself comfortable with the thought of being Thor’s mate, they were in front of the staircase that led to the throne. Thor had allowed his arm to slip from his, and he was glad for it. He desperately wanted to curl in on himself, hug himself, but that would be a sign of weakness. It may also enrage Odin, who was already quite irritated with him. Out of the corner of his eye, he witnessed Thor kneeling. He did not kneel. Odin was not his king, nor was he his father. He owed him nothing.
            “Rise.” Odin’s voice echoed in the hall. His tone was a mix between king and father, and Loki wondered if it was only for Thor.
            “Father, we have spoken to Yfulen, and we have found out about the… mating.” Thor finally looked up at his father. The single eye stared down with intensity. It was amazing how his expression made Thor feel so small, given that he was much larger and stronger than his father now.
            “And?”
            “Loki and I have spoken,” Thor knew he had to choose his words carefully, otherwise Odin might believe that Loki poisoned him into doing this. “I offered myself as his mate.”
            Odin sat still on his throne. Loki had never felt so nervous in front of him. His skin felt clammy, his mind was foggy, and his heart was racing. He did not want to mate.
            “And you are willing to take on the responsibility of keeping him in line?” Odin narrowed his gaze on Thor. Loki wanted to bristle. He should, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too tired and too distraught.
            “I do not believe I will have to keep him in line, father.” Thor licked his lips and then looked over to Loki. “He will handle himself. As you know, his actions were partially the Chitauri’s fault.”
            Odin hummed. Not an agreement, but definitely not an argument. He watched the two steadily for a few moments while stroking his beard. “I shall think on it. You are dismissed.”
            Thor nodded, kneeled again, and then stood. He escorted Loki from the hall with his arm around his waist.
            “That did not go as badly as expected,” Thor mused. When Loki did not answer, he sighed and stopped walking. To keep Loki from leaving, he took hold of his arms and turned him around. “Loki, will you be happy with me?” He asked, searching the green eyes that no longer gleamed with trickery.
            “Happy is a relative term.” Loki responded easily. He could tell Thor wanted to argue, but was smart enough to leave it alone. They walked side by side until they entered the hall that led to their rooms.
            “Loki…” Thor hesitated before tightening his grip on Loki’s arm. “Please, join me in my bed.”
            Loki froze. He didn’t want to. He wanted to curl up and hate the world for everything it wrought on him. He wanted to sulk and scream and cry. He wanted his privacy. Yet, he knew that if they did mate, Thor would have full control over what he did and didn’t do. He was sure that Odin would see to that. He gnawed on his lower lip, and then nodded his head.
            “I will join you.”
            Then, perhaps in the morning, they would know Odin’s decision.
- 15
- 16
- 17
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Chitauri's Revenge