AU, where Loki is the king of Asgard.
Warning - dark. No redemption for the villain here. Will get darker if I write more chapters.
He looked down at the focus in his hand, a lock of beautiful black hair. It was his fault her hair was black. He had cut off her beautiful blonde curls centuries ago, when they were just children, and replaced it with dwarf's hair. And it had been black from that moment forward.
That had been the same day she had first beat him in a fight. It was his revenge. Even then, he had needed to have power over her. Loki craved power, power over everyone, but power over her most of all. The thought of taming such a wild beauty, controlling her, and using her for his own purposes, aroused him far more than simple flesh ever could.
"Sif, jag befaller dig, buga inför mig. Ta din rättmätiga plats, liggandes vid mina fötter." Loki shuddered. The thought of Sif kneeling at his feet made him harder than iron. "Ni är mina. Din kropp och själ, dina tankar och önskningar, mina. Genom alla Asgårds krafter är din vilja min!" He threw the lock of hair down, onto the crystal in the center of the design on his floor. A crack resounded through the air, and the hair went up in smoke.
Loki sat back on his heels. As magic went, he didn't like this sort very much. Far too flashy, not his style at all. But it was an immensely powerful spell that he was trying to cast, and it required a certain display.
Loki stood, his erection twitching, needing to be dealt with. He rang the bell in his room. It used to summon the king's manservant, but the staff had quickly learned that when that bell rang, it was not a man that the king wished to see.
Now all he had to do was wait.
It was days, far longer than Loki expected, before the great oak doors to the royal chambers creaked open to reveal his prize. Sif was flanked by two armed guards, but far from looking like the escaped and re-captured prisoner she was, she seemed entirely indifferent to their existence and as though she had meant to be here all along.
"Ah, and to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"We caught her sneaking into the castle, my lord."
"Don't be ridiculous," Sif snapped. "I walked through the front doors on my way here, and you decided to come with me. Nobody caught anyone." The guard quailed under her stare. An unarmed woman, a captive surrounded by guards, and a former slave, and Sif still had the power to make a lesser man wince. But when she met Loki's gaze, she was the one who winced. He could see a tremor in her hands, and knew that she wasn't nearly as comfortable or as sure of herself as she acted. His eyes sparkled with cold mirth.
"Tell your men to leave so that we may speak privately."
"Sire, this is an assassination attempt."
Everyone was silent for a moment as Loki and Sif stared at each other. He sat on an ornate throne on the dais, relaxed, slouched even, and yet somehow still in command of the entire room. Her body language was hostile and defiant, but there was a flicker of pleading in her eyes. Please, they said. Please don't make me humiliate myself in front of all these people.
"If it is," Loki said finally, "it is the worst assassination attempt I've ever witnessed. You disarmed her, correct?"
"We checked her, my Lord, but she didn't have any weapons."
"Assassination attempt indeed. Leave us."
It was a credit to Loki's power that not one of his guards or attendants objected. They simply bowed and left quickly and quietly. The instant the final person had shut the door, Sif fell to her knees.
"What have you done to me?" Sif hissed, head almost touching the floor.
"Why my lovely Sif, I've no idea what you mean."
"Don't lie to me. I would never have come back here of my own free will. And yet here I stand."
"Kneel, actually, and may I say it's a very flattering angle. I'm surprised you managed to stay upright in my presence for as long as you did. You're stronger than I thought, Sif."
"So it wasn't enough for you to own my body, you had to own my mind as well. My wills and desires. My… appetites. This is low, even for you, Loki."
"First of all, the proper address is 'my lord', and you will use it. Secondly, I wouldn't have had to use magic on you if you hadn't run away. And third, what exactly do you mean about desires and appetites?"
"You should know, my lord." She managed to make the words sound ironic, even though they were forced from her lips. "It's your spell."
"Explain." The command in his voice was forceful, and she couldn't help but obey.
"You've given me such disgusting thoughts. Made me… want you. I crave your bed and your body. A person's mind should be their own, but mine is filled with the unnatural urge to please you. Even though I think you're vile for doing this to me."
The cavernous room was filled with Loki's chuckle. "Stand up, Sif." She did, gladly, and stood still in the middle of the room, staring him down. Mischief in his eyes, as it was so frequently in their youth, he stood and walked to her. She made to back away, but he commanded her to hold still. Slowly, he brought a hand up to grip her chin, tilting her head back and making her look into his eyes.
Underneath the mirth, she could see the smolder of awe-striking power, and it made her shake with want. He released her chin and walked around her, his hand trailing over her jaw and onto her neck, sending a shudder all over her body. She had wanted him for days, ever since she started feeling the effects of his spell, and being in such proximity to him was arousing her on levels she never thought possible. When he pressed his chest to her back, she tried and failed to keep herself from leaning into him. Then he bent down, and his breath ghosted over her ear.
"I've got news for you, my dear," he murmured. "I didn't do this to you. My magic controls your actions, but it isn't within my power to control your desires." He paused to let that sink in. "Delighted to hear it, though."
Her eyes widened as she realized what a terrible mistake she had made, and the consequences that would undoubtedly result. Her body regained the rigidity it had when she was fighting the spell before, and she pushed away from him, her eyes filled with fear.
"Oh, yes. If you want me, it is entirely of your own volition. Some deep-seated reaction to being placed under my control. Could it be that all this time, Sif the Lady Warrior desired nothing more than to be submissive? To surrender herself, body and mind, to a man?"
She hissed and made to lunge at him, but his spell caught her before she could move. He turned his back on her nonchalantly and walked back up the dais, returning to his throne. He considered her: chest heaving, expression angry, but eyes filled with lust.
"So you want to please me, do you?"
"No," she spat.
"Do not lie. You may never lie to me."
Once again the command overpowered her. She mouthed wordlessly for a moment, before a strained, "Yes," escaped her lips. Another moment of fighting, and she finished the sentence, "my lord."
Loki's gaze darkened. "And you shall, my dear. You shall please me in more ways than you could imagine. Come here." She approached him with obvious ambivalence. When she was standing directly in front of him, he looked her in the eye so she could feel the weight of his next order, even though it was said at barely more than a whisper.
"On your knees."
The Swedish translates: "Sif, I command you, bow before me. Take your rightful place, prostrate at my feet. You are mine. Your body and soul, your thoughts and desires, mine. By all the powers of Asgard, your will is mine."
This may be a one-shot, I haven't decided yet.