Under New Management // Thorki

3.

It had officially been a week since Thor had seen the raven, not a trace of him had been found throughout the castle.

Thor would be lying if he said he wasn't worried, Loki had always disappeared for days on end, however, he usually came out or at least allowed Thor in. But Loki hadn't let Thor in his room, hadn't even acknowledged his existence.

Eventually, the blond had decided he needed to take matters into his own hands, with that thought he marched to Loki's room and demanded from the younger to exit.

When he once more received not but a breath, he yanked the door from it's lock, blinking uselessly when no one, yet again was in the room.

In fact, it looked as though the room hadn't been touched in days, everything covered with a light layer of dust and grime.

Yet another week had passed since, and Thor strongly believed the raven had left Asgard.

A pit of anger grew in the thunder god's stomach. How could he be so selfish? Thor knew the death of their parents was hard, as well as the throning of king Alfarinn. But this was a time of grief, not selfishness. They should be together, supporting each other like family. But no, his "brother" up and left.
Thor sat down for dinner that evening, waiting for Sif mainly, along with the king and others.

Everyone stood as a formality when Alfarinn entered, but Thor shocked with the trickster followed behind, all anger fizzing away without a second thought, refilled with a feeling of dread.

Loki sat on the King's right, across from the blond. Thor's colour drained when he saw his brother. The ravens hair was unstyled, his skin seemed like white paper, his once emerald eyes gleaming with mischief, were now dull, lacking light, the black bags forming under his eyes. His paper skin seemed to hang off his bones like a corpse, his now chapped lips turned into a permanent frown. On his thin finger, glistened a sliver band, radiating power and pain.

Thor blinked, his throat dry and his skin tingling with discomfort.

"Loki? Loki are you alright?"

"Do I fucking look-" He cut himself off mid sentence with an unnerving jerk, his eyes blanking before he bowed his head and with a quiet rasp he spoke again, "Sorry. I'm doing quite well, brother."

Thor's eyes flashed as he looked to Alfarinn, who's eyes watched the raven with a disturbing closeness. On his tanned hand, rested a golden band, resembling the one Loki bore.

Within the trickers mind raced thoughts of defeat, pain, misery, hate, anger, fear, and a deep feeling of depression worse than he'd ever experienced.

Because he knew this time, there was no way he could get out of this. On his finger was a horrid ring. A ring that bound him solely to Alfarinn. This ring stripped him from the ability to use his magic, his ability to escape, even his will to speak at times.

It sent pulses through his veins when the king felt anger, fear, or any other strong emotion. To make matters worse, there was no possible way to get it off unless Alfarinn willed it to be so.

Over the last two weeks, Loki hadn't eaten, by choice and by having to other option. He hadn't slept out of fear and discomfort. He was merely grateful for the small fact that nothing major had happened other than being stripped of everything that gave his meaningless life purpose.

The raven was completely lost, out of options. This was indefinitely his life now, as he did not dare to leave again.

The end of the first week was the time Loki had attempted to leave physically. Needless to say he hadn't gotten far before Alfarinn found him due to that fucking piece of Hel on his ring finger.

The king had been positively furious. Throwing the raven down the stairs as soon as they reached the palace. Upon that, the hands of what Loki now considered death had wrapped around his slender neck, squeezing the life from the already weakened god.

Loki was sure he'd never forget the words the elder spoke,

"Try and leave again pet, and I promise you, you'll spend a year in the dungeons after giving the public a special show with me."

Loki had been to the dungeons before, and not for quite that long either. It was very well possibly the worst point in his life before this. The guards hated him already, upon that, Odin had no problem allowing them to do whatever they wished. As you can imagine, Loki had and lost another child over that time.

Shuddering, he once more refused the food before him, finding it tasted of nothing but dirt, and the overall thought of eating anything made him sicker than he already felt.

He wished he could go back, all the way back even, to his painful childhood. Because even then, everything was simpler.

He missed drowning his the beauties of literature, pranking his brother, just being around Thor even if it brought him angst on average. He missed his mother, oh god he missed her. She was the one true light in his life. And now? She was dead. And no doubt he wouldn't be allowed at the funeral, he hadn't even been allowed to grieve as one should.

He knew, because of Alfarinn's excessive ranting, the funeral was to be held in three days. Loki felt a lump build in his throat at the thought. It was all becoming too real, too fast for the raven to keep up. And it was all crashing down on his head.

Loki blinked and swallowed hard, staring down at his supposedly delicious food. He balled his fists under the table, however he didn't register the fact that the king beside him would feel his powerful wave of grief.

The trickster yelped when he felt the cold steel of his metal boot meet the boney clothed flesh of his shin with a painful thump.

Thor looked up to Loki in concern as Loki looked to Alfarinn with alarmed eyes.

Undoubtedly, Loki looked like a  kicked puppy, and I guess in some sense he was.

Alfarinn only shot him a warning glare in return, forcing him to swallow down his emotions, leaving him with a pitifully blank expression.

Thor looked between the two, a flashing anger rising his eyes as he opened his mouth to question what in the name of the gods happened.

Loki only stared at him with pleading green eyes, shaking his head in dismissal, silently begging for the older not to speak of what he had unfortunately witnessed.

Thor looked at the raven, his heart aching just at the sight, as he nodded softly, hoping to Odin he was dead wrong about what was going on.

Because Thor didn't know what he would do if he knew for sure that the king, had in fact, claimed Loki. Though, he knew the raven would never allow it willingly. That thought, the thought that Loki would willingly go to such a man somehow made it worse in a sick sort of way.

But why?

That would become the most pressing of questions to the warrior before long, why did it matter who Loki loved? Why did it affect Thor so damn much?

He should be happy for his brother, right?

But he felt another shock as the thought almost immediately passed through his head, 'He's adopted. Not actually related.'

The small thought in itself, raising a million and one other questions.