Freedom is wonderful; the feeling of grass and the Midgard invention of concrete against my feet is nearly orgasmic. I run a hand through my hair, holding the air in my lungs for a moment before letting it out with a wheezing cough.

A few of the human's friends (excuse me, my friends; I must remember that I am a human now) shove me while laughing. They pass a joint, sucking the flaming paper before coughing out smoke. A girl to my right leans against my arm, threading her fingers through my own; she gently peppers my jaw with kisses causing me to shudder at the foreign softness. "Katie," I try to push her away but this only earns me a small pout. I sigh, chewing the inside of my cheek while she grabs the joint. "I'm sorry, I'm just not-"

Katie blows smoke in my face; her blonde hair catches in the breeze while she squints her blue eyes at me. "Whatever Lincoln, you never wanna do anything anymore." The group around me snickers, some of my friends make homophobic comments while clearing the pot caked phlegm from their throats.

The breeze turns into a gust, flicking embers through the circle of humans and myself. I can hear the rumble of thunder in the distance, and it causes the hairs on my jacket covered arms to stand straight on end. I inhale shakily, telling myself that I didn't see lightening in the distance.

I turn away from the group, leaning against the playground equipment we ve made camp around. My head connects with the cool metal while my eyes slide closed.

I have been on Midgard for nearly eighteen years, growing into this Lincoln Silversmith's body and life as if I belong here. I study the Los Vegas skyline both loving and despising this place. It's a drug soaked prison that is much more preferable to the one waiting for me in Asgard.

My fingers take the joint without my knowledge; pressing the slightly damp paper to my lips, I inhale deeply. Smoke crawls into my abused lungs, soothing the screaming fear of storms to a quiet murmur. I have witnessed many thunderstorms during my time on Midgard, this one will be no different. I repeat this like a mantra, mentally smoothing down the building fear.

Katie seems to have forgiven me; she presses against my arm once more, resting her head against my shoulder while her warm fingers stroke my arm. "It's almost midnight; you know what that means..."

I barely tilt my head in a nod. My eyelids are becoming heavy; I yawn into the back of my hand, burying my face into her blonde hair. "Yeah, my birthday."

She giggles softly, ignoring the group of stoned humans. "Your eighteenth birthday! You should be more excited, Lincoln." I hum, enjoying her fingers on my arm and her soothing scent.

A loud crack of thunder pulls me away from her; my eyes are wide as I look up to the black and blue sky. My heart pounds in my head as I stand, not taking my eyes away from the sporadic bolts of lightening streaking through the air.

Katie stands with me, her expression concerned. She places a hand against my cheek, tugging my face towards her. "What's wrong?" The earth seems to shake with the next roll of thunder.

I tear my eyes away from the sky, giving the human a shaky smile and a nervous laugh. "I-it's nothing I've just always been afraid of storms, ya know?" Her brows furrow but she nods slowly, tugging me down to the ground.

I try to ignore the rolling thunder that seems to be getting closer with each passing minute. I sip at the alcohol these humans provide and laugh easily at their idiotic jokes; Katie grips my hand tightly, squealing happily while she holds up her cellular device. "Thirty seconds, Lincoln!"

My friends stomp their feet, whooping loudly as thirty seconds become twenty-five, fifteen...ten...five...Katie gives me a sloppy kiss as the clock changes from eleven-fifty nine to midnight. "Happy birthday!"

The cheerful cry dies in my throat as a large bolt of lightening sends a tree up in flames.

The humans around me jump to their feet screaming in confusion. I remain sitting, my hands on top of my knees becoming white as a figure steps out of the flames.

I feel my throat dry as my brother's eyes fall onto me; the flames surrounding him cause his once midday sky eyes turn to ice. Katie tries to pull me up, her voice now just white noise pushing against my ear drums.

Brother I whisper, watching as his expressionless face shifts to one of dark delight.

"Finally I have found you, Loki."

The humans around me run away from us, all except Katie who stares at me in confusion. "L-Lincoln c'mon let's go." She glances towards Thor who glares at her. "This is getting creepy..."

I open my mouth to answer, but it's cut short by a bolt of lightening shooting from my brother's hand and into Katie's chest. She flies back, her body charred and bloody as it falls wetly against a tree. Thor lowers his hand, his eyes falling back onto me. "Now you will have no distractions."

I stand on shaky legs, shifting easily into my own skin. Thor crooks a finger, and I feel the magic pulling me towards him. We are suddenly in Valhalla; the normal sounds of the hall are silent, and when I let my eyes glance about, I see that there is no one here save for eighteen black haired Valkyries surrounding the throne.

They meet me with dead eyes, and it is only then that I can see the shadowy bruises lining their jaws and necks. "What have you done with everyone?" Thor remains silent, waving a hand for the Valkyries to leave us.

We are alone in the hall; I glance about the room, studying where heads of beasts are mounted and at the furs lining the walls. Thor's hand encloses my wrist, pulling me and ignoring my hiss of pain. "You are crafty, Liesmith. How did you do it? Since you've escaped, everyday I have gone to Heimdallr, and everyday it was the same answer. 'I cannot see the Silvertongue.'" He turns to me, his expression dark while his eyes dance with barely concealed rage. "You were disguised as a human for eighteen years. I have missed you so much brother..." I shudder as his hands cup my face; I feel my skin crawl as I try to pull away.

"Thor, release me." My tone holds no force which causes my brother to laugh loudly. His fingers press harder into my flesh; I lift a hand to his, my nails shifting to claws of a feline as I try to pry his hands from my jaw. "Let GO!" I hiss and scratch, my brother's blood coating my fingers in my feeble attempt at escape.

Thor watches impassively before he lifts me by my throat with one hand; my vision becomes clouded with black dots as my oxygen is cut off. "Your struggling has ceased to amuse me." He carries me down the corridor, holding me by the neck like a dead goose.

We stop at the grand doors of the king's chambers, and I feel my dread shoot through my veins. I begin to claw at my brother's hands, swinging my feet in an attempt to break from his grasp. "No! Brother, please! A-anything but t-that!" Thor ignores my pleas, pushing the door open to reveal his chambers.

A large golden cage stands in the corner; the bars and floor are inscribed with runes to keep me from leaving and to keep my magic contained. I can feel its suffocating power from the doorway; the runes on my arms begin to burn while I am carried closer.

Thor pries open the cage door before throwing me into it; my skin feels as if it's on fire as my magic is forced to become dormant once more. I writhe in agony on the cage floor, ripping at my hair as the holding runes glow around me.

Thor stares down at me, a small smile on his mouth before he pats the cage almost lovingly. "You will stay in here till you learn to behave."

My fingers dig into my skin while I manage to send a hot glare in his direction. "You will never tame me! I will escape you again, mark my words Thor!" My brother chuckles softly, trailing his hand down the bars of the cage before he turns on his heel.

"We'll see, brother. We'll see."


It has been days or weeks; I am curled in on myself in the middle of my cage, whimpering softly. I feel the runes in my arms jump every once and a while as if they are charged with electricity, which now that I think about it, they might be.

I have not seen my brother during my incarceration and at the time, I didn't want to see him; now that I have been deprived of any contact, seeing Thor would be something of a reward.

I hear the door opening; my eyes lift to watch a Valkyrie come towards my cage, a key in her hand. She stares at me silently; a large black bruise covers one side of her face, reaching her hairline. Her lips thin to a line while she watches me, and I can see the disgusted outrage behind her forest green eyes.

I stand awkwardly, my arms wrapping around my frame as I tilt my head. "Sister, let me go." The hand around the key tightens, and I can hear the Valkyrie clench her jaw. I move closer, my eyes locking with hers as I try to make her bend to my will. "I will protect you if you release me." My hand lifts to the bars of the cage; I hiss as the pads of my fingers make a contact with the gold.

"Silence, Liesmith." She thrusts the key into the lock before her hand grips my arm with surprising force. "I will not fall victim to your false promises." For the barest moment, I can feel her hand shaking.

"It is not a lie, sister." I whisper, peering up through my lashes at the Valkyrie. I know I cannot shift into a form that will help me, the runes Thor carved into my flesh prevent that. "I will protect you." She tugs me towards the throne room, causing me to stumble over my clumsy feet.

Thor sits on the throne, watching the subjects of Asgard regally; I am dragged into the room, listening as the air becomes quiet. I glance about the hall, looking at faces I have known my whole life contort in disgust. They hate me, I realize, for abandoning them to Thor's rage. I look down at my feet, trying to well up some empathy but I cannot find any.

The Valkyrie drops me in front of my brother; I land with a thump, my head smacking against the ground. I can hear Thor stand, the sound of his boots against Valhalla's floor like thunder in my ears. "Our brother Loki has returned to us!" Thor's voice booms over me as he addresses his subjects; they clap politely, but I can hear murmurs of anger bubble from some.

Thor's hand clasps around the neck of my tunic; he lifts me effortlessly to my feet, clapping a heavy hand onto my shoulder. The crowd looks at me, and I can see my mother off to one side; she looks pained. Thor's fingers clench around my shoulder, and out of the corner of my eye, I see a dark grin come to his face. "He will understand the consequences of leaving..."

I am pushed to the ground, my air supply cut off by hands around my throat. I stare blankly up at my brother trying to keep my expression neutral. My heart beats erratically in my chest and I know that Thor can feel my pulse quicken because he flashes me a manic grin.

The crowd around us is silent, too afraid of the new king of Asgard's rage to even help me; I suppose they find this punishment just, seeing as I all but abandoned them to this madman.

Thor seems to be lost in his own world; he rips away my tunic, sliding his fingers over my skin with a childlike wonder. I stare at the hall's ceiling trying to ignore the feelings of my brother's hands rubbing over my chest, acting gentle when I know what will happen. Tears come to my eyes as I feel the stares of hundreds of subjects burning on my face; these sort of punishments were always doled out in private, the humiliation was for me alone to feel, not for others to laugh at.

My trousers are tugged away from my legs, the cold air hitting them causing me to cry out. Thor's blue eyes have gone electric, the grin cuts across his face like a knife; his hot hand massages the top of my thigh, nails digging into the flesh just below the wrap covering my manhood. "Brother, please." I want to squeeze my eyes closed, but I know that the action will only cause my brother to be rougher. "Please stop." My voice breaks pathetically, and I can hear my mother sob softly. I feel shame burn through me at causing her distress; she should not have to witness this, but I know Thor wouldn t have it any other way.

A hot mouth attacks my chest, teeth rip and tear at my nipples, abusing them till they're raw. His hands are hard against my thighs, fingers curl around my wrap till it's tugged away. I stare over my brother's shoulder, trying my hardest to not allow my tears to fall; Thor unbuttons his trousers, his erect penis already shining with his excitement. I tear my eyes away from it, gulping down a scream of protest.

The crowd murmurs, hiding their disgust behind their hands. They watch as my brother, my king roughly takes me on Valhalla's floor. My legs are trembling as he lifts them to hook over his shoulders; I hold my breath, hoping to lose consciousness. My back burns, and as Thor thrusts in and out, ignoring my tears and the blood that leaks from me, my back becomes loaded with splinters.

My eyes lock with my brother, and in his grey-blue orbs, I can see a twisted sort of love reflected back at me. It causes my stomach to clench, and I'm the first to look away. Thor releases with a low guttural moan; the sound echoes through out the hall and in my head. He pulls out wetly, fluid dripping from me while he orders the Valkyries to take me back to our chambers. Our stomach heaves at the thought.

Their eyes hold no pity, but they are gentle as they put me on the plush bed, wiping away the evidence of my rape and placing a thick fur over my body. I shake and cry for my mother like a child, holding my knees to my chest.

I hear the door open and close, my mother's quick footsteps following. Mother's cool hand lands on my forehead, her fingers stroking through my hair. I can feel her tears fall onto my face as she leans over me; her voice cracks as she barks an order for the Valkyries to leave. "My son..." Her lips are like butterflies on my skin. I whimper and pull away, not wanting anything to touch me. My eyes are squeezed closed; I don't want to see the disgust and pity in my mother s gaze. "I'm sorry, so sorry."

I pry my eyelids open, seeing my mother's flushed and tearstained face. I try to crack a smile but it's more of a grimace. Mother sniffs softly, her queenly composure completely gone; her fingers twine through my hair, the thumb stroking each strand lovingly. "How did you escape?" Her voice is low, and I see her glance about the room as if someone may be watching. I have no doubt that someone is.

I shift to make room for my mother to lay next to me; she pulls the covers over us, her arms coming to wrap around my shivering frame. I rest my head at the crook of her neck, sobbing quietly like I did when I was a child and suffering from a nightmare. I lift a wrist to my eye level, tracing the fine white line carved into my skin; I place it against my cheek, sighing shakily while my mother waits for my answer.

"I told Thor that I was going to bathe. I took a shard of obsidian that I had gotten from Hel; she told me that it would assist me in my death." Mother's fingers comb through my hair; the constant motion helps calm me when I shudder for breath.

When I close my eyes, I can see the obsidian in my fingers held posed to cut. The water is warm, and my legs ache from earlier abuse; I know that there will be bruises, however I can't bring myself to care. I step into the hot bath, sliding easily through the water with a hiss; I look down at my arm, inscribed with runes binding me to my brother as his consort. A grimace comes over my face, and lifting the sharp obsidian to my skin, I carve away the markings. Blood pours out of the wounds, staining the water pink; a breathy sound of pain leaves my lips, and I feel myself sinking.

The door slams open causing my head to snap up. Mother's eyes harden upon seeing my brother; her jaw clenches as he makes a motion for her to leave. I shudder like a leaf in a storm, and I want to grab for my mother's dress as she leaves; she pauses at the doorway, her fingers tightening on the wood. Thor looks over his shoulder, a small condescending grin curling one side of his lips. "You may leave now, Mother."

Mother glances to me, but I nod once. Her eyes flicker back to Thor, her frown contorting her face. "As you wish my king." She leaves with a small bow, closing the door quietly.

Thor's eyes snap back to me; the fur the Valkyries had put over me has slid down due to my mother's jostling. Storm-blue eyes lock on to the bruises dotting my throat and chest; he steps closer, his hand fisting. "You are beautiful." I want to huddle under the furs, but I remain the way I am, knowing that if I move, then I would be subjected to Thor's rage once more.

He places a knee on the bed, dipping it with his weight. His hand comes out to cup my face gently; I flinch involuntarily, watching as his expression darkens. I scoot back on the bed, my knees snap up to meet my chest; I'm shaking my head as he moves closer. "No no no no, please brother, no!" His hands wrap around my throat, cutting off my scream.


I sit in the gardens, blankly gazing over the lily pond. My eyes fall on to a white crane scanning the water; it's razor like beak dips into the water, closing around a squirming frog. I watch emotionlessly as the frog fights for its life, it's frightened croaks do not touch my heart as the crane's beak easily slices through it.

I stand, sloshing through the lily pond towards the crane. I feel the magic pulsing through my veins, clawing at the underside of my skin; the crane remains where it is, locked under my gaze. I feel the water freezing under my feet, the air around me growing colder with every step; the rage I feel is as cold as the Artic.

I bark a spell, the magic bursting angrily from my fingertips; the crane squawks, beating its wings, black eyes locked on my figure. I feel my form begin to shift, an animalistic growl rumbling from my mouth. I drop to all fours, hair beginning to cover every inch of me; the crane tries with all its might to get away, but the ice around its legs cases it in.

I see the fear in its eyes; my beast mouth curls into a grin.


Thor's fingers card through my hair, tugging at knots harshly; his lips brush over the back of my neck. He murmurs words into the skin, rubbing his nose against me. There are fresh cuts running diagonally over my thighs and bruises litter nearly every inch of me. "Never leave me again..." Thor keeps muttering, his tears catching in his beard. "Never again you are mine. Loki, my brother, my queen."

My face remains stony, my heart unmoved by such talk. "I hate you." I whisper harshly, touching the black eye my sweet brother had given me when he found me hiding in a cave.

Thor sobs behind me, his arms constricting tighter around my middle. "No, don't say that. Never say that!" I want to crush his windpipe, beat him as harshly as he does me; I hate him with everything I am.

He kisses between my shoulder blades, resting his forehead in the dip. "We are perfect," His fingers pet my stomach; the muscles beneath shudder with the contact. "Absolutely perfect."


I will die if I remain here any longer. It is raining on Asgard today; my eyes trace the droplets dripping over the window. Thor has allowed my cage to be moved; he is cruel to let me see the free world.

I wish to see my mother and children, but my brother has forbidden it. He comes to me every night, pleased to see I have not managed to escape him again. I look down at my wrists, wondering if it would be better to kill myself.

The gold of the cage floor feels cool against my head as I gracelessly fall. I roll onto my back, ignoring the twitching of my muscles. Loneliness washes over me and I look toward the door, hoping that anyone (even my brother) would come.

"You will be female tonight." I lift my tired eyes; Thor stands before my cage door, his arms folded over his massive chest.

"Excuse me?" I close my eyes, muscles aching all over. Thor taps a finger on a bar of the cage; I know that his expression is annoyed, but I can't bring myself to care.

"You will conceive an heir." My eyes snap open; my movements are jerky as I sit up, expression confused and livid.

"What are you talking about?" I crawl towards the bars of the cage, fingers wrapping around them. I lean out of the cage, my face close to Thor's. "Are you mad?"

Thor's eyes narrow; he leans forward, causing me to stumble. "You are able to give birth, are you not?" He flashes me a smirk; my stomach drops, but my face retains its anger.

"...yes." I hiss, humiliation and defeat falling over me like a wet fur.

His chuckle answers my unasked question.


I stare at myself in the looking glass; the bone comb runs through my hair methodically. My eyes glance towards the door, waiting for my brother's approach. I glare down at my female body, hating it and its reproductive powers; the comb shatters the mirror with the force of my throw.

A sob bubbles out of my throat when I hear thunderous footsteps. I look away as the door opens, rubbing away my tears guiltily.

Thor's fingers curl around my chin, tugging my face to meet his. A calloused finger strokes my cheek bone; he flashes me a small grin. "Why are you crying Loki? You will be a mother."

I pull away, smacking at his hand in disgust. "I am already a mother." He tuts softly, wagging a finger in front of my face.

"But to monsters; our child will be the most beautiful thing in the nine realms." He pushes away the dressing gown covering my shoulders reveling the freshly healed skin beneath.

I look away as he undresses me and himself; I hate myself for the soft gasp leaving my lips as he sheaths himself inside of me.

"I hate you...I hate you..." I keep repeating as he coaxes me into orgasm. His kiss burns, and it causes me to break down into tears.


My hand sweeps over my growing abdomen as I watch the clouds drift lazily over the horizon. It is nearly noon on Midgard, I note; humans pass me on their ways to lunch, chatting about the balmy weather. They take no notice of the pregnant homeless woman holding a bone handled knife.

I can hear the rumble of thunder in the distance and know that it is my brother trying to find me. A small smirk comes to my lips and I rub the pad of my thumb over the razor edge of the knife. Let him find me, I think, Let him watch.

The knife glints in the noon sun, its razor smiling up at me like an old friend. I can feel the life inside of me kick, knowing my intentions. "I am sorry, little one." The tip of the knife presses to my stomach. The kicking grows stronger, almost panicked; my heart beats wildly in my head and I resist the urge to laugh.

The thunder roars as the knife plunges into my womb.


Norsekink fill; it was insanely fun to write! I hope I got the characterization correct, Loki is so much fun to write, especially in first person. Dark!Thor was a bit hard because...well, he's a wonderboy, but then I read some mythology and, welp, here we go. Hope you enjoyed!