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Title: Chained
Author: Evandar (yamievandar / hikarievandar)
Fandom: Avengers
Rating: R
Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance
Pairing: Clint/Coulson
Warnings: Swearing, pseudo-bestiality, torture
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: S.H.I.E.L.D is in uproar: Fury and Coulson are AWOL, one of Thor's friends is missing. Odin has discovered the human lives of Loki's monstrous children and returned them to their original prisons. The Avengers aren't happy; neither is Loki, and Hawkeye might just be gunning for Odin's remaining eye.
Thor was troubled. He was torn. Everything he knew about Loki’s children could be summed up by a single fact: they were monsters. They were dangerous, vile creatures that didn’t deserve their freedom – with, perhaps, the exception of Sleipnir who was, by all accounts, a most excellent steed.
They were his friends.
He could understand how they had escaped their prisons without his father noticing. Loki was brilliant, after all, and the All-Father busy with things closer to home. He even understood how they could pass so convincingly for humans – at least some of Loki’s shapeshifting abilities had to have been passed on. No, what he didn’t understand was how those vicious monsters had been so likeable; how they had managed to become important to his friends while hiding their true nature.
He did not understand how Clint Barton – having seen the Son of Coul for what he truly was – could weep against that monstrous maw and demand the creature be released.
He did not understand, but he did not question the demand either. He too had grown fond of Fenris in his mortal disguise. He had mourned his ‘death’ – he knew, now, that Loki must have known who he was dealing with; mad his brother may have become but never would he slay one of his own children – and had rejoiced with the others when he had been returned to him. He did not understand how the man who had inspired such loyalty within them could be the savage creature Thor had always believed him to be.
And it was not only Fenris.
He had admired Fury for his ruthless, warrior spirit and his great leadership, but now he knew him to be vicious Jormungandr. He had adored Darcy for her free spirit and her strength, but in his heart he realised she was his only niece – the fearsome Lady Hela.
He had not argued with his friends over their need to be released because he wished to understand how they may have become such worthy comrades. They had insisted he return to Asgard at once, and he had done so, gladly, because in Asgard lay the answers he sought.
He hoped.
…
Loki was not kept in a prison. There was no prison that could hold him, so what point would there be in that? Instead he was under guard at every moment, and his mouth was stitched shut to prevent him from using the worst of his magics, but he was allowed freedom of movement. He was in the library when Thor found him, sitting at one of the many tables with a large tome lying before him. He traced the words with his fingers as he read – a habit he’d had since their boyhood. It struck Thor then just how much he had missed his brother. He approached slowly, and Loki glared up at him, but did not move away when he sat down next to him.
“I must speak to you, brother,” Thor said. He kept his voice low and quiet, so that not even the guards could hear him.
He had wanted to speak to Odin, but his father was busy. And surely Loki would know the nature of his children better than any other. He had borne them, after all, so perhaps speaking first with him would be for the better.
“It is about your children.”
Loki’s hands slowly curled into fists and he turned his head away. Never, since their births, had he spoken of them with Thor – with, to Thor’s knowledge, any member of their family. Thor had never broached the subject before either, content only that such monsters had been removed from Asgard. He had assumed that Loki hadn’t minded their removal either, due to his lack of protest.
Now, he wondered if he had been wrong after all.
“I mean them no harm, brother, I mean only to ask you about them.” Loki looked back at him. His eyes were narrowed, but he inclined his head slightly. Thor breathed a sigh of relief. “Were they ever released from their prisons?”
He watched carefully for Loki’s reaction. So carefully, in fact, that he almost missed it. He’d been watching Loki’s face, when he should have been watching his hands. It was only when his brother started to tremble from the force with which he was gripping the edge of the table. His knuckles were white, and Thor reached out to cover Loki’s hands with his own.
“Peace, brother. I swear to you I do not seek to harm them.” He could see it now, the barely restrained panic in Loki’s eyes. He loved his children. Thor’s stomach twisted with guilt when he realised that. Loki loved them, and their father had stolen them away and imprisoned them.
He took a deep breath and tried not to think of Fenris’ whines and the blood that had seeped out of his mouth, of Clint Barton’s pain and anger, of chains and swords and a cave far beneath the earth.
“I must know, Loki. It is important. They could be in danger. Tell me, were they ever released from their prisons?”
Slowly, Loki nodded.
“You freed them?”
Nod.
“Where did they live? Was it Midgard?”
Nod nod.
“Did I ever meet them?”
Loki didn’t respond. He was too busy studying Thor, looking at him with an intensity that he hadn’t seen in years. It was, he realised, the first time Loki had truly looked at him since before his failed coronation.
“Was Fenris the mortal known as Agent Coulson?”
Loki’s sudden, indrawn breath sounded almost like a scream in the silence of the room. One of the guards peered at them oddly, but Thor waved him away, his gaze still fixed on his brother.
Slowly, Loki closed his eyes. And nodded.
Thor sat back in his chair. They had been right after all. He had had doubts – he’d clung to them desperately because he couldn’t not – but now there was no denying it.
Loki had to be told.
“Not long ago, he went missing, along with Director Fury and Lady Darcy – the friend of my dear Lady Jane. I, they are, I presume, Jormungandr and Lady Hela?”
Nod.
Loki was staring at him again, fixated. How could he ever have doubted that Loki loved his children?
“S.H.I.E.L.D places tracking devices in all of its agents. When we searched for the one placed within the Son of Coul, we were led to Fenris’ prison where he was chained. We seek to free him, brother. To free him and his siblings, wherever they may be.”
Loki looked like he didn’t believe him, and why would he? Why, when Thor hadn’t even noticed that Loki cared for his children in the first place. He squeezed Loki’s fingers gently.
“They are greatly loved and missed on Midgard,” he said. “They are wonderful, brother.”
Loki’s head bowed. He twisted his hands in Thor’s grasp, and before he knew it, Loki was gripping back.
…
“Loki’s children are dangerous, Thor. They must be kept at bay, so that the realms remain safe.”
Thor had believed that once. He had believed in it completely. Now, though, he couldn’t. Not after he had spoken to Jormungandr and worked alongside Fenris and embraced the people who loved them as his friends. Not after Hela had helped him when he was helpless.
“Why do you bring this matter before me?”
Thor cleared his throat. “I thought, perhaps, Loki would be more cooperative if we rewarded him with visits to his children.”
His father looked sceptical, but after a moment he nodded. Thor was not the brother famed for his silver tongue, and so many people forgot that he too was as capable of lying as his brother – apparently his father was one of them. “I had thought the same, once, but your brother is doing well as he is,” he said. “There is no need to bother them, or distress him with their imprisonment. And if he must see one of them, there is always Sleipnir.”
Thor almost bit through his tongue trying to hold back his protest. Could his father be so blind? Was this what Loki saw when he looked upon the Royal House of Asgard?
“You are wise, father,” he choked out.
He was a fool. An old man and a fool. The words he had spoken so rashly after his futile trip to Jotunheim had been spoken in a fit of childish anger, but he could see truth in them still.
He did not know what the punishment for his disobedience would be this time. There would be punishment, of course – it would be swift and harsh, he knew that much – but he could not let this injustice continue. It went against his vows to protect Midgard, to allow some of its greatest defenders to be imprisoned. But it was not only that: the words he had spoken to Loki in the library were true. His children were wonderful, and they did not deserve the fate that Odin had condemned them to.
“I am sorry to have bothered you, father,” he said. He bowed his head before standing, and turned to leave the hall.
“All I do is for the greatest good for Asgard,” his father called after him.
Perhaps, Thor thought, but that does not make it right.
…
He had not been in his brother’s chambers since they were children, but even then it had astounded him just how messy Loki could be. For someone who was so neat and put together in public, he had collected a great number of possessions in his years, and seemed to lack the ability to put them away sensibly.
He pushed open Loki’s door to reveal his brother sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by books and notes written in his own, cramped hand. Peering over his shoulder, Thor could read enough to know that they were on powerful, strange magics that he had no hope of truly understanding.
Loki looked up at him, a frown creasing his brow. Thor shut the door behind him.
“I spoke to our father,” he said, ignoring the small noise of protest that Loki made low in his throat. “He will not see reason.”
Loki rolled his eyes. Thor could practically hear the I told you so.
“Which is why I am taking you from here, my brother.”
Loki’s eyes went round. He was fairly sure that – if he had been able – he would have been gaping. He scrambled to his feet and stood uncertainly in front of Thor, wary and prepared to lash out if Thor’s words should be in jest. It pained Thor to see it, and yet he understood why it was there. Had not Thor found amusement in the monstrous forms of his nephews? Had he not allowed his friends’ mockery to reach his brother’s ears without rebuke?
He reached out and gently laid his hands on Loki’s slim shoulders. He could feel his bones through his tunic. He gripped a little tighter and leaned down to look his brother in the eye.
“This is no jest, Loki,” he said. “I spoke true when I told you I meant them no harm, but right now they are being harmed. I mean to free them, but I need your help and I know – I know – that you want to help them. Will you let me take you to them, brother? No tricks, no malice. Will you come with me?”
He wanted, so desperately now, to put things right. To earn his brother’s trust again. To free his nephews and his niece.
“Loki?”
Loki nodded.
“Good,” Thor said. He released his brother and stepped back. “Pack your things, Loki. We leave tonight.”
Author: Evandar (yamievandar / hikarievandar)
Fandom: Avengers
Rating: R
Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance
Pairing: Clint/Coulson
Warnings: Swearing, pseudo-bestiality, torture
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: S.H.I.E.L.D is in uproar: Fury and Coulson are AWOL, one of Thor's friends is missing. Odin has discovered the human lives of Loki's monstrous children and returned them to their original prisons. The Avengers aren't happy; neither is Loki, and Hawkeye might just be gunning for Odin's remaining eye.
Thor was troubled. He was torn. Everything he knew about Loki’s children could be summed up by a single fact: they were monsters. They were dangerous, vile creatures that didn’t deserve their freedom – with, perhaps, the exception of Sleipnir who was, by all accounts, a most excellent steed.
They were his friends.
He could understand how they had escaped their prisons without his father noticing. Loki was brilliant, after all, and the All-Father busy with things closer to home. He even understood how they could pass so convincingly for humans – at least some of Loki’s shapeshifting abilities had to have been passed on. No, what he didn’t understand was how those vicious monsters had been so likeable; how they had managed to become important to his friends while hiding their true nature.
He did not understand how Clint Barton – having seen the Son of Coul for what he truly was – could weep against that monstrous maw and demand the creature be released.
He did not understand, but he did not question the demand either. He too had grown fond of Fenris in his mortal disguise. He had mourned his ‘death’ – he knew, now, that Loki must have known who he was dealing with; mad his brother may have become but never would he slay one of his own children – and had rejoiced with the others when he had been returned to him. He did not understand how the man who had inspired such loyalty within them could be the savage creature Thor had always believed him to be.
And it was not only Fenris.
He had admired Fury for his ruthless, warrior spirit and his great leadership, but now he knew him to be vicious Jormungandr. He had adored Darcy for her free spirit and her strength, but in his heart he realised she was his only niece – the fearsome Lady Hela.
He had not argued with his friends over their need to be released because he wished to understand how they may have become such worthy comrades. They had insisted he return to Asgard at once, and he had done so, gladly, because in Asgard lay the answers he sought.
He hoped.
…
Loki was not kept in a prison. There was no prison that could hold him, so what point would there be in that? Instead he was under guard at every moment, and his mouth was stitched shut to prevent him from using the worst of his magics, but he was allowed freedom of movement. He was in the library when Thor found him, sitting at one of the many tables with a large tome lying before him. He traced the words with his fingers as he read – a habit he’d had since their boyhood. It struck Thor then just how much he had missed his brother. He approached slowly, and Loki glared up at him, but did not move away when he sat down next to him.
“I must speak to you, brother,” Thor said. He kept his voice low and quiet, so that not even the guards could hear him.
He had wanted to speak to Odin, but his father was busy. And surely Loki would know the nature of his children better than any other. He had borne them, after all, so perhaps speaking first with him would be for the better.
“It is about your children.”
Loki’s hands slowly curled into fists and he turned his head away. Never, since their births, had he spoken of them with Thor – with, to Thor’s knowledge, any member of their family. Thor had never broached the subject before either, content only that such monsters had been removed from Asgard. He had assumed that Loki hadn’t minded their removal either, due to his lack of protest.
Now, he wondered if he had been wrong after all.
“I mean them no harm, brother, I mean only to ask you about them.” Loki looked back at him. His eyes were narrowed, but he inclined his head slightly. Thor breathed a sigh of relief. “Were they ever released from their prisons?”
He watched carefully for Loki’s reaction. So carefully, in fact, that he almost missed it. He’d been watching Loki’s face, when he should have been watching his hands. It was only when his brother started to tremble from the force with which he was gripping the edge of the table. His knuckles were white, and Thor reached out to cover Loki’s hands with his own.
“Peace, brother. I swear to you I do not seek to harm them.” He could see it now, the barely restrained panic in Loki’s eyes. He loved his children. Thor’s stomach twisted with guilt when he realised that. Loki loved them, and their father had stolen them away and imprisoned them.
He took a deep breath and tried not to think of Fenris’ whines and the blood that had seeped out of his mouth, of Clint Barton’s pain and anger, of chains and swords and a cave far beneath the earth.
“I must know, Loki. It is important. They could be in danger. Tell me, were they ever released from their prisons?”
Slowly, Loki nodded.
“You freed them?”
Nod.
“Where did they live? Was it Midgard?”
Nod nod.
“Did I ever meet them?”
Loki didn’t respond. He was too busy studying Thor, looking at him with an intensity that he hadn’t seen in years. It was, he realised, the first time Loki had truly looked at him since before his failed coronation.
“Was Fenris the mortal known as Agent Coulson?”
Loki’s sudden, indrawn breath sounded almost like a scream in the silence of the room. One of the guards peered at them oddly, but Thor waved him away, his gaze still fixed on his brother.
Slowly, Loki closed his eyes. And nodded.
Thor sat back in his chair. They had been right after all. He had had doubts – he’d clung to them desperately because he couldn’t not – but now there was no denying it.
Loki had to be told.
“Not long ago, he went missing, along with Director Fury and Lady Darcy – the friend of my dear Lady Jane. I, they are, I presume, Jormungandr and Lady Hela?”
Nod.
Loki was staring at him again, fixated. How could he ever have doubted that Loki loved his children?
“S.H.I.E.L.D places tracking devices in all of its agents. When we searched for the one placed within the Son of Coul, we were led to Fenris’ prison where he was chained. We seek to free him, brother. To free him and his siblings, wherever they may be.”
Loki looked like he didn’t believe him, and why would he? Why, when Thor hadn’t even noticed that Loki cared for his children in the first place. He squeezed Loki’s fingers gently.
“They are greatly loved and missed on Midgard,” he said. “They are wonderful, brother.”
Loki’s head bowed. He twisted his hands in Thor’s grasp, and before he knew it, Loki was gripping back.
…
“Loki’s children are dangerous, Thor. They must be kept at bay, so that the realms remain safe.”
Thor had believed that once. He had believed in it completely. Now, though, he couldn’t. Not after he had spoken to Jormungandr and worked alongside Fenris and embraced the people who loved them as his friends. Not after Hela had helped him when he was helpless.
“Why do you bring this matter before me?”
Thor cleared his throat. “I thought, perhaps, Loki would be more cooperative if we rewarded him with visits to his children.”
His father looked sceptical, but after a moment he nodded. Thor was not the brother famed for his silver tongue, and so many people forgot that he too was as capable of lying as his brother – apparently his father was one of them. “I had thought the same, once, but your brother is doing well as he is,” he said. “There is no need to bother them, or distress him with their imprisonment. And if he must see one of them, there is always Sleipnir.”
Thor almost bit through his tongue trying to hold back his protest. Could his father be so blind? Was this what Loki saw when he looked upon the Royal House of Asgard?
“You are wise, father,” he choked out.
He was a fool. An old man and a fool. The words he had spoken so rashly after his futile trip to Jotunheim had been spoken in a fit of childish anger, but he could see truth in them still.
He did not know what the punishment for his disobedience would be this time. There would be punishment, of course – it would be swift and harsh, he knew that much – but he could not let this injustice continue. It went against his vows to protect Midgard, to allow some of its greatest defenders to be imprisoned. But it was not only that: the words he had spoken to Loki in the library were true. His children were wonderful, and they did not deserve the fate that Odin had condemned them to.
“I am sorry to have bothered you, father,” he said. He bowed his head before standing, and turned to leave the hall.
“All I do is for the greatest good for Asgard,” his father called after him.
Perhaps, Thor thought, but that does not make it right.
…
He had not been in his brother’s chambers since they were children, but even then it had astounded him just how messy Loki could be. For someone who was so neat and put together in public, he had collected a great number of possessions in his years, and seemed to lack the ability to put them away sensibly.
He pushed open Loki’s door to reveal his brother sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by books and notes written in his own, cramped hand. Peering over his shoulder, Thor could read enough to know that they were on powerful, strange magics that he had no hope of truly understanding.
Loki looked up at him, a frown creasing his brow. Thor shut the door behind him.
“I spoke to our father,” he said, ignoring the small noise of protest that Loki made low in his throat. “He will not see reason.”
Loki rolled his eyes. Thor could practically hear the I told you so.
“Which is why I am taking you from here, my brother.”
Loki’s eyes went round. He was fairly sure that – if he had been able – he would have been gaping. He scrambled to his feet and stood uncertainly in front of Thor, wary and prepared to lash out if Thor’s words should be in jest. It pained Thor to see it, and yet he understood why it was there. Had not Thor found amusement in the monstrous forms of his nephews? Had he not allowed his friends’ mockery to reach his brother’s ears without rebuke?
He reached out and gently laid his hands on Loki’s slim shoulders. He could feel his bones through his tunic. He gripped a little tighter and leaned down to look his brother in the eye.
“This is no jest, Loki,” he said. “I spoke true when I told you I meant them no harm, but right now they are being harmed. I mean to free them, but I need your help and I know – I know – that you want to help them. Will you let me take you to them, brother? No tricks, no malice. Will you come with me?”
He wanted, so desperately now, to put things right. To earn his brother’s trust again. To free his nephews and his niece.
“Loki?”
Loki nodded.
“Good,” Thor said. He released his brother and stepped back. “Pack your things, Loki. We leave tonight.”
