crowns and princes, part 1/?
Title: crowns and princes
Fandom: Thor (2011)
Pairing: Thor/Loki (eventually
Rating: PG-13
Comments: From the kinkmeme (YES OKAY I AM A PERV)
Odin still takes in the young frost giant and makes him appear Asgardian but he is a favourite servant, not an adopted son. As he grows older and prettier (and for kink meme purposes, legal), Odin finds other duties for him. Loki becomes Odin's courtesan. Thor has still practically been raised with the boy though, and as he discovers his father's latest use for Loki he finds himself furious with his father and painfully envious. Thor wants Loki for himself as a love, not a sex-slave.
I'd love for Loki to be rather detached about it all. He makes a reasonably comfortable life out of this after all and what can Thor do? Fight Odin for the sake of his whore? (Not that Thor can bear hearing Loki call himself that.)
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It was years before Thor noticed.
I.
There had been five solid days of feasting in celebration of his coming-of-age: golden halls filled with wine and laughter; tables heavy-laden with roast boar and lamb and pheasant, bread and manna, fragrant ambrosia in fluted golden cups the size of his thumb, apples from Ydun and Arlathan and Hesperides, and the servants hurrying to and fro from the kitchens in a never-ending stream to ensure that plates never went empty; dancing every night, and a three-day tournament of jousting and magic in his honor, though Thor himself had not been allowed to participate. The feast had culminated with the presentation of Mjolnir-forged in the heart of a dying star, as Odin announced to the appreciative crowd-and afterwards Thor had grinned like an idiot while his friends and family came to congratulate him, the weight of the hammer in his hand heavy as a promise kept.
There would be no such grand celebrations for Loki, who was a servant and not a prince, when he came of age later that year-but he was a friend all the same, and for once Thor actually remembered his birthday; eighteen was an important age, after all. One didn’t turn eighteen every day.
He even remembered to get him a proper present. It was a book about magic, because Loki liked books, and he also liked magic-and all right, so Sif was the one who had actually picked it out, but Thor had asked her to-and he’d wrapped it himself, though this had the rather unfortunate effect of getting tape stuck on the covers, and the ribbons were probably a lost cause. But he liked to think that it was the thought that counted.
“Thank you,” Loki said, looking a little bemused, when Thor presented it to him with a flourish the evening before his birthday. “You do remember it’s not until tomorrow…?” He flicked at the tangled knot of ribbons.
Thor had, unsuccessfully, tried to hide them beneath a card. He felt himself flush.
“Of course I remember,” Thor said, not defensively at all. Just because he had been late the last three years-not that Loki would ever actually mention it, but the other man had a way of raising an eyebrow in the most insinuating manner, and-oh gods, he was doing it right now. Thor hurried on before he started squirming. “I thought I’d give it to you early so we could go celebrate tonight! You, me, Sif and the Warriors-what do you say to ringing in your birthday down at Valhalla?”
“Ah.” The corners of Loki’s mouth tilted up, faintly. “No, I’m afraid I can’t make it.”
“-what?” said Thor.
“I have other plans.”
“What?” said Thor. “What other plans? Look, I know you’re my father’s cupbearer, but it’s your birthday-he must have given you the night off-”
“No,” Loki said, and there was an odd sort of chilliness in his voice, and his eyes were distant. “No, Odin is not requesting me in any official capacity tonight.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Thor demanded, baffled. “There’ll be mead! Wenches! A tavern brawl, if we’re lucky! Come on, what else will you be doing?”
“Some other things,” said Loki, which was extremely vague even for him. He thumped Thor on the shoulder. Well-it was more like a pat than anything close to a manly thump, but Thor would take what he could get from Loki, who spent hours in the library at a time and did that infuriating eyebrow thing whenever Thor suggested a practice round in the arena. “Thank you for the book.”
“You haven’t even opened it yet,” Thor protested.
“Thor,” Loki said, dry, “you’ve given me a book every year since we were six-although, I must say, Sif has remarkably good taste in literature, so please don’t imagine that I’m complaining.”
“-I wrapped it myself,” Thor said, trying not to sulk, because he was crown prince and too dignified for that sort of behavior.
“So I see.”
“And I made you the card.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“What are you doing, anyway?” Thor asked again. “I had the night planned out-Valhalla first, and then I was thinking we could probably talk Heimdall into letting us go to Alfheim afterwards-”
That chilliness again, and for a moment he thought how stern Loki looked, suddenly, and far too grave for a young man who was a few months his junior: his dark hair swept back, sleek and elegant, and his eyes shadowed even in the brilliant light of Asgard; “I have other obligations tonight,” Loki was saying, “but perhaps tomorrow, if you like? You’re buying, of course.”
“Of course,” Thor said. And: “You never told me what you were doing.”
Loki shrugged. “I have to catch up on my reading.”
And it was clearly a lie, which mean that Loki wasn’t going to tell him. Thor rolled his eyes. “You really have to get out more,” he said, thumping Loki on the back hard enough to make him stagger. “Happy birthday, anyway.”
II.
They went out drinking the night after, and the night after that, but Loki kept their company less and less in the months that followed; Thor, who had always known that his friend was quiet and rather withdrawn, took little notice of it until Sif approached him and asked him point-blank if he thought anything strange was going on with Loki.
“Don’t you think,” she pressed, when he merely looked at her, bemused, “that it’s odd that he’s always disappearing after dinner? Don’t you wonder where he goes off to?”
Thor shrugged. “The library?” he suggested. “You know how he likes to read-”
“Yes, but,” Sif said, “have you actually passed by the library to check if he’s in there?”
Thor hadn’t, but he could tell by her tone that Sif had, and also that Loki hadn’t been in the library when she’d looked. “What are you saying?” he asked. “Do you think he’s been sneaking into the treasury again? Or trying to take Sleipnir out without Father knowing?”
Because Loki had tried both these things and more. He had been a strange child, thin and silent and watchful, and he had learned all sorts of secrets and gotten his friends in trouble with his coaxing; Father had called it mischief, and Mother had called it wickedness, but none of the other children said anything about it at all after Thor had introduced them to his fists.
Not that Loki trying to saddle Sleipnir by himself hadn’t been a monumentally stupid idea.
“No, not that,” Sif said, beginning to look exasperated. “I mean, Odin has been calling for him more and more these days as a personal attendant-”
Thor frowned at her, puzzled. “If you knew he was with Father, then why didn’t you just say so? Instead of making me guess?”
“I-just-” The warrior-woman stared at him for a long, long moment, apparently speechless.
“Well, then,” said Thor, wondering if Sif was feeling well, and if he should possibly be careful around her for a few days, “I’m glad we spoke. Are you coming on the hunting trip with us next week?”
III.
In any case, it wasn’t only Loki who found his duties expanding. Thor was crown prince and heir apparent, and now that he was of age, there were matters of state for him to attend to: a week-long hunt in the deep woods of Alfheim, a princess’s wedding in Svartálfaheimr’s royal palace, diplomacy in Vanaheim and appointments for Asgard and a whole slew of other things, all of them to show the realms that he was willing and able to defend his domain and capable of doing the paperwork, as well. Being given his own company to train was exciting. Filling out requisition forms was considerably less so, and Thor resolved to make his lieutenant do it as soon as he found a man capable of the position. Otherwise the world went on, as it was wont to do, and if there was less time for drinking and wenching than he would have liked, well, such was life.
In fact, Thor was in the middle of a staggering pile of paperwork when Fandral burst in upon him, and announced: “Loki’s moving into the upper palace!”
“What?” said Thor, his head still swimming with troop numbers and supply wagons. And: “He is? Wonderful! What’s the occasion?”
“I suppose your father wanted him close at hand,” Fandral said, looking rather taken aback.
“He has rendered uncommonly loyal service,” Thor agreed. “This is a fitting reward! We should celebrate tonight-Fandral, my friend, I don’t suppose you want to be my lieutenant?”
“Not a chance in Hel,” Fandral said.
“Pity.” Volstagg had no head for numbers. Perhaps Hogun-?
“Wait,” his friend said. “You really-you don’t see anything odd about this?”
Thor shrugged. “Well, it was a long shot,” he said. “I know you hate all this paperwork as much as I do.”
“I meant about Loki.”
“Oh. What about it?”
Fandral stared. And then he said: “Sif was right. You really don’t know.”
“Know about what?” Thor wrinkled his brow. “Wait. Is Loki in trouble again? Sif hinted at it, but she wouldn’t say anything outright-”
Fandral stared some more.
“On an entirely different note,” said the most gallant of the Warriors Three, very slowly, “you do know that there are some men who prefer to be with other men, rather than women?”
“Hmm? Yes?” Thor had never really thought about it. Not personally, at any rate; he preferred women himself, but he supposed that he wouldn’t say no to another man, if the circumstances were right. “What about it?”
“I just wanted to mention,” Fandral said, “that there is a tradition of that sort of thing. Warrior-bonds between men, turning into something more. Or, seeking companionship with others in times of need. In bed. Or, perhaps, a king keeping a male concubine for his own pleasure-”
Thor held up a hand to forestall the rush of examples. “It’s all right, my friend. I understand perfectly.”
“What?” Fandral looked deeply suspicious. “You do?”
“Of course! And let me assure you that I-nor anyone else in Asgard, if they hear of it-will judge you for your preference. It is your right to be with whom you will.”
“What,” Fandral said.
“If anyone does trouble you for it,” Thor added, “let me know, and I will have them dealt with.”
“I-that wasn’t-” Fandral broke off, and continued, in a somewhat choked voice: “Never mind. Thank you, Thor. For your understanding.”
Choked with gratitude, no doubt, Thor thought with satisfaction, and turned back to his paperwork as Fandral backed out the door.
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part 2 here
Fandom: Thor (2011)
Pairing: Thor/Loki (eventually
Rating: PG-13
Comments: From the kinkmeme (YES OKAY I AM A PERV)
Odin still takes in the young frost giant and makes him appear Asgardian but he is a favourite servant, not an adopted son. As he grows older and prettier (and for kink meme purposes, legal), Odin finds other duties for him. Loki becomes Odin's courtesan. Thor has still practically been raised with the boy though, and as he discovers his father's latest use for Loki he finds himself furious with his father and painfully envious. Thor wants Loki for himself as a love, not a sex-slave.
I'd love for Loki to be rather detached about it all. He makes a reasonably comfortable life out of this after all and what can Thor do? Fight Odin for the sake of his whore? (Not that Thor can bear hearing Loki call himself that.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------
It was years before Thor noticed.
I.
There had been five solid days of feasting in celebration of his coming-of-age: golden halls filled with wine and laughter; tables heavy-laden with roast boar and lamb and pheasant, bread and manna, fragrant ambrosia in fluted golden cups the size of his thumb, apples from Ydun and Arlathan and Hesperides, and the servants hurrying to and fro from the kitchens in a never-ending stream to ensure that plates never went empty; dancing every night, and a three-day tournament of jousting and magic in his honor, though Thor himself had not been allowed to participate. The feast had culminated with the presentation of Mjolnir-forged in the heart of a dying star, as Odin announced to the appreciative crowd-and afterwards Thor had grinned like an idiot while his friends and family came to congratulate him, the weight of the hammer in his hand heavy as a promise kept.
There would be no such grand celebrations for Loki, who was a servant and not a prince, when he came of age later that year-but he was a friend all the same, and for once Thor actually remembered his birthday; eighteen was an important age, after all. One didn’t turn eighteen every day.
He even remembered to get him a proper present. It was a book about magic, because Loki liked books, and he also liked magic-and all right, so Sif was the one who had actually picked it out, but Thor had asked her to-and he’d wrapped it himself, though this had the rather unfortunate effect of getting tape stuck on the covers, and the ribbons were probably a lost cause. But he liked to think that it was the thought that counted.
“Thank you,” Loki said, looking a little bemused, when Thor presented it to him with a flourish the evening before his birthday. “You do remember it’s not until tomorrow…?” He flicked at the tangled knot of ribbons.
Thor had, unsuccessfully, tried to hide them beneath a card. He felt himself flush.
“Of course I remember,” Thor said, not defensively at all. Just because he had been late the last three years-not that Loki would ever actually mention it, but the other man had a way of raising an eyebrow in the most insinuating manner, and-oh gods, he was doing it right now. Thor hurried on before he started squirming. “I thought I’d give it to you early so we could go celebrate tonight! You, me, Sif and the Warriors-what do you say to ringing in your birthday down at Valhalla?”
“Ah.” The corners of Loki’s mouth tilted up, faintly. “No, I’m afraid I can’t make it.”
“-what?” said Thor.
“I have other plans.”
“What?” said Thor. “What other plans? Look, I know you’re my father’s cupbearer, but it’s your birthday-he must have given you the night off-”
“No,” Loki said, and there was an odd sort of chilliness in his voice, and his eyes were distant. “No, Odin is not requesting me in any official capacity tonight.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Thor demanded, baffled. “There’ll be mead! Wenches! A tavern brawl, if we’re lucky! Come on, what else will you be doing?”
“Some other things,” said Loki, which was extremely vague even for him. He thumped Thor on the shoulder. Well-it was more like a pat than anything close to a manly thump, but Thor would take what he could get from Loki, who spent hours in the library at a time and did that infuriating eyebrow thing whenever Thor suggested a practice round in the arena. “Thank you for the book.”
“You haven’t even opened it yet,” Thor protested.
“Thor,” Loki said, dry, “you’ve given me a book every year since we were six-although, I must say, Sif has remarkably good taste in literature, so please don’t imagine that I’m complaining.”
“-I wrapped it myself,” Thor said, trying not to sulk, because he was crown prince and too dignified for that sort of behavior.
“So I see.”
“And I made you the card.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“What are you doing, anyway?” Thor asked again. “I had the night planned out-Valhalla first, and then I was thinking we could probably talk Heimdall into letting us go to Alfheim afterwards-”
That chilliness again, and for a moment he thought how stern Loki looked, suddenly, and far too grave for a young man who was a few months his junior: his dark hair swept back, sleek and elegant, and his eyes shadowed even in the brilliant light of Asgard; “I have other obligations tonight,” Loki was saying, “but perhaps tomorrow, if you like? You’re buying, of course.”
“Of course,” Thor said. And: “You never told me what you were doing.”
Loki shrugged. “I have to catch up on my reading.”
And it was clearly a lie, which mean that Loki wasn’t going to tell him. Thor rolled his eyes. “You really have to get out more,” he said, thumping Loki on the back hard enough to make him stagger. “Happy birthday, anyway.”
II.
They went out drinking the night after, and the night after that, but Loki kept their company less and less in the months that followed; Thor, who had always known that his friend was quiet and rather withdrawn, took little notice of it until Sif approached him and asked him point-blank if he thought anything strange was going on with Loki.
“Don’t you think,” she pressed, when he merely looked at her, bemused, “that it’s odd that he’s always disappearing after dinner? Don’t you wonder where he goes off to?”
Thor shrugged. “The library?” he suggested. “You know how he likes to read-”
“Yes, but,” Sif said, “have you actually passed by the library to check if he’s in there?”
Thor hadn’t, but he could tell by her tone that Sif had, and also that Loki hadn’t been in the library when she’d looked. “What are you saying?” he asked. “Do you think he’s been sneaking into the treasury again? Or trying to take Sleipnir out without Father knowing?”
Because Loki had tried both these things and more. He had been a strange child, thin and silent and watchful, and he had learned all sorts of secrets and gotten his friends in trouble with his coaxing; Father had called it mischief, and Mother had called it wickedness, but none of the other children said anything about it at all after Thor had introduced them to his fists.
Not that Loki trying to saddle Sleipnir by himself hadn’t been a monumentally stupid idea.
“No, not that,” Sif said, beginning to look exasperated. “I mean, Odin has been calling for him more and more these days as a personal attendant-”
Thor frowned at her, puzzled. “If you knew he was with Father, then why didn’t you just say so? Instead of making me guess?”
“I-just-” The warrior-woman stared at him for a long, long moment, apparently speechless.
“Well, then,” said Thor, wondering if Sif was feeling well, and if he should possibly be careful around her for a few days, “I’m glad we spoke. Are you coming on the hunting trip with us next week?”
III.
In any case, it wasn’t only Loki who found his duties expanding. Thor was crown prince and heir apparent, and now that he was of age, there were matters of state for him to attend to: a week-long hunt in the deep woods of Alfheim, a princess’s wedding in Svartálfaheimr’s royal palace, diplomacy in Vanaheim and appointments for Asgard and a whole slew of other things, all of them to show the realms that he was willing and able to defend his domain and capable of doing the paperwork, as well. Being given his own company to train was exciting. Filling out requisition forms was considerably less so, and Thor resolved to make his lieutenant do it as soon as he found a man capable of the position. Otherwise the world went on, as it was wont to do, and if there was less time for drinking and wenching than he would have liked, well, such was life.
In fact, Thor was in the middle of a staggering pile of paperwork when Fandral burst in upon him, and announced: “Loki’s moving into the upper palace!”
“What?” said Thor, his head still swimming with troop numbers and supply wagons. And: “He is? Wonderful! What’s the occasion?”
“I suppose your father wanted him close at hand,” Fandral said, looking rather taken aback.
“He has rendered uncommonly loyal service,” Thor agreed. “This is a fitting reward! We should celebrate tonight-Fandral, my friend, I don’t suppose you want to be my lieutenant?”
“Not a chance in Hel,” Fandral said.
“Pity.” Volstagg had no head for numbers. Perhaps Hogun-?
“Wait,” his friend said. “You really-you don’t see anything odd about this?”
Thor shrugged. “Well, it was a long shot,” he said. “I know you hate all this paperwork as much as I do.”
“I meant about Loki.”
“Oh. What about it?”
Fandral stared. And then he said: “Sif was right. You really don’t know.”
“Know about what?” Thor wrinkled his brow. “Wait. Is Loki in trouble again? Sif hinted at it, but she wouldn’t say anything outright-”
Fandral stared some more.
“On an entirely different note,” said the most gallant of the Warriors Three, very slowly, “you do know that there are some men who prefer to be with other men, rather than women?”
“Hmm? Yes?” Thor had never really thought about it. Not personally, at any rate; he preferred women himself, but he supposed that he wouldn’t say no to another man, if the circumstances were right. “What about it?”
“I just wanted to mention,” Fandral said, “that there is a tradition of that sort of thing. Warrior-bonds between men, turning into something more. Or, seeking companionship with others in times of need. In bed. Or, perhaps, a king keeping a male concubine for his own pleasure-”
Thor held up a hand to forestall the rush of examples. “It’s all right, my friend. I understand perfectly.”
“What?” Fandral looked deeply suspicious. “You do?”
“Of course! And let me assure you that I-nor anyone else in Asgard, if they hear of it-will judge you for your preference. It is your right to be with whom you will.”
“What,” Fandral said.
“If anyone does trouble you for it,” Thor added, “let me know, and I will have them dealt with.”
“I-that wasn’t-” Fandral broke off, and continued, in a somewhat choked voice: “Never mind. Thank you, Thor. For your understanding.”
Choked with gratitude, no doubt, Thor thought with satisfaction, and turned back to his paperwork as Fandral backed out the door.
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part 2 here