Chapter Text
“Come here,” he commanded.
Taking an unsteady breath, she obeyed him instantly, too afraid to do anything else.
She approached him, head down in submission, and stopped before him as he lounged on the edge of the bed, his legs spread apart.
“What is your name, mortal?” he asked, grasping her wrists to pull her closer so that she was standing between his knees. He then settled his hands loosely on her hips, as though ready to hold her still should she try to escape. She could feel his intimidating stare upon her but did not dare meet it.
“Anna, your majesty.”
“Anna from Midgard,” he concluded, unimpressed. “How long have you been held captive by the Grandmaster?”
A small frown formed on Anna's lips as she remembered the day when she accidentally stepped through one of the portals created by the convergence years ago. Her life had completely flipped sideways from the normal life she had previously on Earth, thrusted entirely into the Grandmasters hands. Looking back on it now— it felt like somebody else's life.
“Since the convergence, your grace.”
“I assume you know who I am then, yes?”
Her eyes shut momentarily as memories rushed to her head; she had watched the news and saw the wreckage. Everyone on Earth knew of Loki, the God of Mischief, and the cause of New York's destruction. He was unpredictable, dangerous and merciless.
“Yes, your grace.”
Still not looking him in the eyes, she watched the curve of his lips upturn slightly in amusement.
“Are you afraid of me, mortal?”
“I have no right to be afraid. I am here to serve only you.”
Her response was automatic and conditioned, unlike her untrained heart which pounded with fearful adrenaline.
His eyes flickered in irritation. “You did not answer my question.”
Anna tried to swallow, but her tongue was dry, and she bowed her head more, afraid to meet his gaze.
"Look at me," he said, using his thumb to lift her chin up. It was surprisingly gentle, and when she met his eyes, he smirked. “You mentioned your services to me, correct?"
"Yes, your grace,” she told him despite her body and soul screaming in protest.
"Anything I want?"
She nodded her head, not trusting her voice to speak the words.
"Tell me where the champions are kept."
Anna drew back slightly, his question catching her off guard; it was not the kind of request expected from someone in her position. Her heartbeat began to speed up when she realized she could not offer him an answer.
"Somewhere in the north wing," she supplied hopelessly, as the north wing was huge and that was nothing to go off of. "But I–I don't know where, your grace. Grandmaster doesn't permit me with such information."
"No. Of course not,” he scowled, staring off distantly as he thought. “Then you are worthless to me.”
Worthless...
Anna could not reason why she cared what Loki thought of her, but she felt a painful jab from his words. She lifted her head slightly, just enough to hold his gaze.
“Grandmaster told me that I–I must please you.” She nearly could not form the words, filled with so much dread at their implication.
“Please me how?” Loki entertained, a spark of mischief flickering in his eyes.
“I-“ she hesitated and then stepped slightly closer to him, placing her hands carefully on his chest. “However you’d like me to, your grace."
His hand rose, grasping the pin in her hair and unwinding it. Her locks fell in messy waves upon her shoulders as he placed the pin to the side.
“You're a pretty little thing,” he observed, his eyes taking her in. “Grandmaster said you are untouched... is that true?”
She nodded her head, obediently fighting the tears that threatened to surface. This was her duty; to disobey meant for a far, far more dreadful fate.
“Mm,” he hummed. His gaze followed his hands as he lifted them up to her frail shoulders, tracing her collar bones with his thumbs, before sliding down her arms, his thumbs just barely caressing the sides of her breasts. She tensed from the contact, his gentle touch throwing her off guard.
"And you would willingly give your virtue to me?"
"Of course," she heard herself say. "It would be an honor to serve you, my prince."
Loki took a deciding breath, staring at her as he settled his hands on her waist.
“It’s a tempting offer…”
Anna felt his hands tighten around her, and she tensed, closing her eyes in a moment of dread as she allowed the truth of her fate to sink in. But Loki did not pull her closer, instead, he surprised her by backing her away from him as he stood up, his hands on her waist only to steady her.
"But I am not that kind of man.”
Anna stared up at him with utter confusion, "I-I don't understand."
"I'm not bedding you, mortal." He shifted his gaze above her, adjusting his collar with an air of indifference.
She blinked, still processing his change in demeanor. “But you..." she gathered her words and looked up to him. "Am I not appealing to you, your grace?"
“You are unfairly appealing,” he clarified, his height utterly intimidating. He briefly grazed the back of a finger against her cheek watching the redness bloom, then wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. “But I'm not a savage."
Instead of feeling relief, Anna began to internally panic. If she did not complete her duties and appease the Grandmaster, she would face the melt stick, therefore death. She stood up with new resolution, pleading him change his mind. “But... you aren't a savage, your grace! I want you to do it... to have me."
He obviously did not believe that for a second, his piercing eyes seeing straight through her lies. “Are the consequences truly that dire compared to me raping you?”
His blatant words revealing the gravity of her situation shook her, draining the blood from her face. She drew a step back and took a second to recover.
“The Grandmaster has generously taken me in when I had no where else to go," she answered quietly. "Serving him and his honorary guests is the least I can do to repay him.”
“Your his slave," he spit out.
“I–“
“Admit it,” he demanded.
Her front fell then, as more tears brimmed in her eyes.
“I’m not going to rape you, Anna.”
She swallowed shallowly. “But if he finds out I didn’t… give myself–"
“He’s not going to find out, little one,” he interrupted, gently tilting her chin up to look at him. “It will be our little secret.”
She furrowed her eyebrows, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why spare me? I’m only a... mortal.”
"If I were to torture a lamb, is the act permissible?"
She turned away from him, no longer able to hold back her tears. “You’re not at all what I imagined,” she said after a few breaths.
“And what did you imagine of me, mortal?” Loki entertained.
“I didn't expect you to be merciful."