THORKI Fan Fictions

Title: Royal Shackles

Loki spends most of the day asleep across Thor's bed. His back still aches though the salve keeps it warm, and he isn't too hungry, even if Thor does his best to convince him to eat a whole pheasant and a pork chop and a slice of cake. Later that night, when his room adjacent to Thor's is completed and furnished, Loki slinks off to sleep on a bed that isn't nearly so plush, decorated with no furs at all.

The sheets scratch his skin, too. He's careful to lie on his stomach.

Nobody disturbs him when he embarks on another day of rest—except for Thor, slipping inside with a plate of food every three hours, like clockwork. "You must eat something, Loki," he says around lunch time, sitting on a tiny stool by Loki's bed and brandishing a skewered carrot at him. "Your energy cannot come from nothing."

At this, Loki wrinkles his nose. He could have pulled energy out of the air if he wanted to, before, enough to make his hands crackle with lightning to rival Thor's. Now, Loki pulls the pillow over his head and waits for Thor to leave.

Around supper time, he does take a small meal of the pile of food that Thor brings him, then lays on his side and digests as Thor perpetuates a one-way conversation. Loki half-listens, groggy and uncaring, as Thor talks about Sif and the Warriors Three and some matter of state (Loki thinks he hears "Jotunheim" and tries to listen a little closer), but once Thor gets to personally relevant information—something about "work" and "Bifröst"—Loki has begun to nod off. He feels a blanket pulled up to his shoulder and hears the soft click of the door before he is out completely.

***

When Loki wakes up again, he feels awake and rejuvenated. His back still hurts, but the pain is tolerable—enough to actually wear the shirt he was given, which feels as rough and scratchy as the vegetable sack it resembles. Regardless, he fixes the buttons and folds as properly as he can.

Stepping out into Thor's sitting room, he sees that the dawn has yet to come and hears that Thor is still asleep, snoring loudly. It's the perfect time for a walk, but he's not about to show himself looking disheveled and just woken. He slips in to use Thor's bathroom before he leaves, but after washing his face Loki finds himself staring at his reflection in the mirror. After fishing out a comb from the drawers, his hair looks fine—but who would notice his hair when he wears this collar around his neck?

The accessory gleams bright against his skin, the smooth, metallic surface only marred by the runes etched into it. Loki leans close to the mirror, raising a hand to feel the symbols. They don't spell out anything familiar nor does anything happen when he whispers their names, and they don't react to his touch. Of course, none of that is conclusive; it could just be his own lack of magic.

He steps back to get a better picture of himself: the bands around his neck and wrists are even more brilliant against the backdrop of his simple ivory shirt and brown trousers, though he can pull and fold the sleeves to hide his wrists. There's nothing he can do about his neck, so resigned to that, he takes a deep breath, turns away from the mirror, and steps out.

The palace still sleeps at this hour; all Loki hears are the echoes of his footsteps off the walls of the hallway. Torches light his way out to the courtyards, empty and cool and quiet save for the gurgling of various fountains. Loki takes a seat along the bench of one with a sigh, and absently runs his fingers over the collar again. Sooner rather than later, he decides, he's going to get this off. He's going to make Thor take it off.

"Halt!" An Einherjar calls from an open passageway nearby, and Loki jumps. The guard approaches him, taking long strides across the path with his spear at his side, and Loki decides that he doesn't want to know what, if anything, he's done wrong. He takes off running, and while he isn't as quick as he used to be, he doesn't have the Einherjar's armor to hinder him. He loses the man within winding corridors, until he comes to a large room that smells of straw and horses.