"It all started with, ironically, the loss of my virginity, along with it my innocent view of the Nine Realms." The voice was calm, smooth and utterly dead. Unsure glances spread around the room, implanting itself on various faces with varying degrees. What was he talking about?

"I was younger, a hundred and six, barely of mature mind. I think this factor explained the carelessness of my youth, even back then."

"How old is that in human years?" Stark asked, nose wrinkling.

Creased brows, closely followed by, "I do not know. There does not exist a measure for immortality, but I seemed no more than that of fourteen-year-old Earthlings."

Stark whistled, the high-pitched whine soaring through the thin air. "I don't know how relevant this is to whatever, but I guess getting laid at fourteen is awe-"

"It was not by my will."

Quiet, lethal, dead... empty.

Speechlessness filled the air, louder than he could stand. He preferred when he did not look at him with such evident looks of focused judgement. But, he continued nonetheless. "He was an ambassador of Vanaheim, a close friend of my adoptive mother Frigga, since she had been birthed there. Frigga is of Vanir blood, and had come to live in Asgard after the war- well, that is rather redundant to this story."

"He visited often for diplomatic matters, staying and residing within the palace for long periods of time. Frigga and him were close; close that I had reason to suspect something, but being the age I was then it mattered nothing to me. It wasn't until he took interest in me that I was involved."

The young lad under the duvet covers jolted awake, eyes wide with a panic of a child. The figure was in his room once again, the black shadow a shade darker than the night. He called out hesitantly, voice slightly trembling with apprehension,

"Who's there?"

The figure slowly strolled up to him, the pale moonlight striking the man's features, casting long shadows upon the floor. Loki flinched. It was him.

He hurriedly got to his feet, hastily flinging the duvet aside and dropped to his knees with his slender arm placed across his chest. The figure observed the little boy with amusement; he was in his royal bedclothes, the silken material smooth against flawless, milk-washed skin, the glittering depths of his eyes standing out magnificently in the dark, the coal-black hair let down; relaxed shoulder-length locks that accentuated his already astounding beauty.

"Greetings, my Lord." His young voice was clear, gentle and almost with a soft edge to it. Beautiful.

"You may rise, young princeling."

Loki stood, confusion slowly slipping into his previously well-schooled features. "What are you doing in my bed chambers, Lord Alfiel? Has something happened?"

"He broke through your wards?" Natasha asked, cutting in, expression cleverly neutral. Loki nodded in response. "Without much effort, I might add. I was considerably weaker then."

"Nothing of importance, Prince Loki. I came to see you." Loki's young heart pulsated with increasing intensity, almost bursting out of his chest. The adrenaline, accompanied by the shock and the rising fear filled his being, his mind blank. "What is the matter then, Lord Alfiel?" Loki knew. He knew that the Lord had been 'visiting' him for several nights over the past few months now, but he was not sure why.The Lord moved forward, slowly pushing Loki back down on the bed and moved along with the motion, face getting closer and closer to Loki's as he breathed. He exhaled, shuddering with unconfined emotion.

"Entertainment me, little Swallow of Black."

"Wha-"

He crushed his mouth against Loki's, and with a flick of his fingers, summoned bands of steel, binding Loki's wrists to his bedpost. The metal bands were searing hot to the touch, so tight they were close to snapping his wrists. Loki yelped, his eyes stinging with pained tears and shock. The cold, dark lips against his own were foreign and demanding, tongue lashing out and teeth snapping wildly. Coursing fear soared through his veins as he thrashed, his legs kicking the air haplessly. The Lord released his trembling lips, trailing his tongue along the side of Loki's pale, enticing neck.

Loki jumped at the opportunity to use the power of his words, a desperate string escaping his mouth the moment his lips were released. "Lord Alfiel! Please let go of- Mmh!" But he was silenced with yet another easily summoned spell. The spell pressed against his vocal cords, constricting and tight, bringing tears to his eyes as nothing but emptiness managed to escape from his throat. He was mute. The Vanir proceeded ripped Loki's clothes, shredding the thin silk as easily as a knife through butter. His lustful hands roamed beneath, caressing, possessing milky white virgin skin. Loki cringed, but he could not rip off his bounding metal bands, nor could he speak. The Lord continued, his hand reaching up towards the side of Loki's face, lips sucking on the shell of his ear. Loki tried to twist away, but he could hear the whisper slinking across his ear, along his trembling neck.

"Do be quiet, little one, and the ordeal shall be over by dawn."

Loki's eyes prickled with tears as he was gripped with confusion and fear. No! Stop! He squirmed under the rough touches, and suddenly felt something against his behind. His tearful eyes widened a notch. "Mmmh-!" A desperate cry. No, what was he doing? Help! Thor- Mother-

He tensed tight, shivering with strain as he felt a long slender digit enter him. First one, then quickly two... He was appalled and afraid, as the lusty whispers softened.

"Relax, little Swallow. It will only hurt momentarily."

Loki had never heard a bigger lie.

The fingers, dripping with the Lord's saliva, prodded and twisted his insides, stretching tender skin painfully. A muffled scream was let out, and Loki begged for him to stop, but he could not voice out the words. Unsightly tears were threatening to fall down his cheeks. The Vanir merely chuckled. "You're too tense, fair Princeling. I won't be able to fit." His voice was roughed by the mindless lust, breathless and husky in deep tones. Loki wanted to cry out, "What do you mean?! Please stop please please please-" but his mouth remained close, bounded by the spell.

"Ohh, Loki. I am utterly impatient. I shall wait no longer."

Loki could evidently feel the hardness of the Lord's arousal against his thigh and suddenly his flustered, quick-witted mind clicked the puzzle pieces into place. He was a youngling that had never been exposed to any sorts of sexual acts before, but it painfully obvious what the Lord's intentions were. It was as he had read in books, he realized with screaming nerves of panic and hurt, where the maidens were brutally and forcefully assaulted while the male attained sexual pleasure. He realized the Lord's intentions: why the fingers were 'loosening up' his certain orifice, why he was breathing harsh, hot breaths down the arch of his neck, why he was smearing his hands all over Loki's struggling body... But Loki was male! Why? Why!? He began desperately struggling more than before, earning a snarl from the Vanir.

"Struggle again, young Prince, and I shall slit your pretty little throat and continue with my actions afterwards."

Loki looked at the man with dawning horror assaulting his gut. He would not... would he? Loki ceased the struggles. He tried to keep his panic and voice down, fearing he would upset his, at this rate, possible would-be murderer. A wide grin was plastered across the Vanir's face as he pulled his fingers, all three of them, out of Loki with disgusting slurping sounds. The young boy lay on the bed, the dark coal hair fanned out beautifully, his trembling frame slender and showing signs of developing lean muscles but still blended with a mixture of a child's physique. The young brilliant green eyes peered into his with such delicious fear he could taste it against the tip of his tongue. His lust increased by bounds. The young princeling was helpless... submissive... He shuddered.

"I will enter you now," the Lord said aloud, dark, and lust-filled. A painful sob rushed out of Loki's lungs; he desperately wanted to do something, but he was at his wit's end. In the end, he could only tremble in response. The Lord stroked the side of the pallid face with the electrifying green eyes, admiring the beauty spread before him, before roughly grabbing the sides of the boy and abruptly entering him.

Loki screamed and writhed in agony as he immediately tried to back away, but the clasps his wrists were in and the Vanir's death grip on his flesh held him; the fingernails welling blood from skin-deep wounds. Loki barely felt the pain of his fingernails because of the mad pounding of Vanir's organ, ripping and shredding his insides as the Lord had done so easily to his bedclothes.

"Ah! Ah, Loki you're so tight! Ah, yes... yes!"

Loki's fists clenched in rising fury, legs forcefully spread extremely wide apart to allow the Lord more leverage in his thrusts. The organ went all the way in and out again and again, the Vanir's bunched thighs slapping hard against his own with each terrible thrust. He was sobbing freely now, uncontrollable tears streaming down his face, trembling with hurthurthurtpainstop-

Loki distantly felt some kind of hot liquid running down his behind -was it blood?- as he screamed, albeit muffled ones, himself hoarse. He was starting to see blackness enter his swirling, blurred vision when suddenly he felt hot, sticky liquid shoot straight and deep in his rectal orifice, and the Vanir's swelled organ had reduced in size. The pain was more unbearable now with the Vanir's seed going over open, bleeding wounds. He could feel the mixture of liquids -blood and seed alike- running along his sweat-coated skin, tainting and dirty.

The Vanir's breaths slowed down significantly over time, his hands still by Loki's sides, fingernails dug deep into reddened skin. Loki breathed hard too, whimpering and wanting to curl up on the bed to weep, but was unable to due to the clasps.

The Vanir regained his smirk, and slowly, as he caressed Loki's tear-smeared cheek, he whispered, "If you tell anyone, I will slay you in the night while you sleep after I slowly do this to you. Over.. and over... again."

His listeners were completely quiet now, but Steve spoke up, his voice gentle and slightly quivering, "You believed him?"

Loki looked at him, gaze nonchalant, as if he had just told the Avengers about grocery shopping. "I did. Back then, I believed him completely. At first I was quiet because I was... threatened." Loki avoided the word 'afraid'. He did not want to appear vulnerable. "After, it was indifference. I believe Thor knows of Alfiel's deeds, but I have never been interested enough to find out if he really did know of it."

"Thor knew of your rape?!" It was an outburst that he wanted to keep in his head, but the Captain was too shocked that he let slip of his thoughts. Immediately, Loki glared in Steve's direction, tone prickly, "Rape is allowed weakness, Captain. It is merely the first experience of brutality that influenced me, nothing more. Do not confuse my youth for weakness in being." Loki practically hissed, filling the room with overbearing silence. No one responded. When the silence fell for far too long, Loki snapped, "Anymore of your redundant questions before you fulfill your part of the bargain, then happily whisk me off to Asgard for my punishment?"

Tony looked up at this and suddenly asked, "Where is he now? Alfiel?"

Loki's sudden slight tense was only caught by Natasha and Tony's observant eyes before it disappeared just as fast as it came. Tony blinked. Interesting.

Loki then grimaced, expression not withholding distaste. "Alive and well in Vanaheim. Being the ambassador allows him to wield massive power and influence. I do, however, believe I am thoroughly capable of slaying him should I ever cross his path," Loki paused then, gaze blank with feigned nonchalance. "And then again, I probably would not."

Another silence ensured. Loki was bristling with annoyance at this. They were wasting his precious time.

"Why not?" Bruce's suddenly voiced out the question from everyone's minds, voice swift and loud. There, speak your minds you lowly mortals! Loki certainly did not have all day. In response though, Loki merely waved his hand in a careless gesture, "Diplomatic issues. Asgard's downfall won't be worth it."

Silence reigned once again. Irritation snapped, a buzzing feeling spreading through his veins. "Are we quite done here? I suppose now you would indulge me in your Midgardian knowledge regarding technology? This was a promised trade of information. I believe I should take my share now?"

"Actually, Steve just casually asked the initial question. We haven't reached the main ones yet," Banner said quietly, in a form of explanation. Loki sighed, eyes closing. The Avengers team were gathered in a wide interrogation room with their bound prisoner. Due to his unwillingness to 'spill the beans', they had promised a trade-off: valuable information of human technology and workings in exchange of Loki answering their questions. The humans would not gain any disadvantage; it was not as if Loki could use the information while he was forever imprisoned on Asgard. Information from Loki the God of Chaos himself though, seemed extremely advantageous.

On Loki's side, he had agreed and reluctantly held them to their word. Midgard's advancements had wondered him so; to the extent that he was willing for the trade-off, and even to the point of enthusiastically anticipating the day of the interrogation. Steve had unexpectedly start the ball rolling with a question that seemed to surprise everyone: "How did you turn out this way?" The Captain had sad, downcast eyes, and now that Tony was really thinking about it, he felt that perhaps it had been a rhetorical question. However, Loki had taken it nonetheless and responded to the question.

"Before the lot of you bombard me with your mindless questions, at least tell me, Man of Iron, how that device of yours works."

Tony glanced to the 'device'. "You mean the polygraph? Name's Tony Stark by the way. And the suit really isn't made of Iron, oh god why doesn't anyone get that-" Banner cleared his throat, interrupting, "Lie detection commonly involves this polygraph device. It detects autonomic reactions and these changes in body functions are not easily controlled by the conscious mind, so it allows us to, so-called, know when you lie."

"It is terribly unreliable, however. But Legolas over there thought we should give it a try." Stark summarized with a smirk.

Clint huffed in response. "I don't know about Gods, and while you are pretty bat-shit crazy and all "Bow my minions!", you seem human-like enough." Loki calmly raised a brow, speaking up. "And that would mean?"

"Well," Barton shrugged, "that would mean you probably possess the short-term stress response which can be from lying or of significance to the subject we are talking about. The problem is, however, that the response is also associated with mental effort and emotional state; so they can be influenced by fear, anger, and surprise, for example. Well, basically it's not very accurate."

"Ahh, I see. Pity, then, for it would prove so much more interesting should it work-"

Suddenly, the door barged -boomed- open. Everybody almost flinched, but being used to such situations they swiveled their heads to the door instead, assessing the enem-

Oh, Thor.

"Brother! What is the meaning of this!" The Thunder God boomed, voice rich with fury mixed in worry. He adorned the full Asgardian suit, his hands holding a small dull rock that had a thin cut of red encarved on it. It looked ordinary enough, except for the fact that it was pulsing with some kind of mysterious energy, glowing red hot. It was almost ethereal, beautiful, with it hard-tipped edges and its bright glow, despite its small size. Upon seeing the stone, however, Loki's eyes flashed wildly.

"Thor, what have YOU done! How DARE you place your rough, careless hands onto my things!" He seethed, hands reaching forward to grasp the stone but was held back by the Avengers. Thor's eyes were turning into sad, slightly hurt ones as he asked, "Loki, is this stone-?" It was a cut-off question, trailing off to allow Loki to answer the true origins of the stone. Everyone looked at Loki expectantly for his reaction. Loki, in turn, rolled his eyes. Why did he have to... argh. "No, Brother. It is a leaf."

Thor continued without minding the harsh-tipped response, "It is a memory stone, is it not?" At this, Loki's face flushed, panicking for a moment. He opened his mouth to respond, but no flashy response came out. He breathed deeply. "I do not know until I have seen the runes carved upon it. Where did you find it?"

"Heimdall gave it to me when-"

"FOOL!" Loki screeched, head pounding with hurt, "HE PROMISED."

"What is it, Brother?" Thor asked, now panicking. Loki looked desperate as he reached out for the stone. "Please, give it to me Brother. It is mine." Clint, seeing Loki's wild panic, playfully reached out to grab the stone, just so he could infuriate the God further.

"Haha! Now I got it. I-"

"Don't touch it!" Loki shouted in warning, but it was too late. The chain of chaos has already begun. Barton suddenly collapsed to the floor in a useless heap, choking and gasping for air. He then starting shouting and groaning in pain. Loki's eyes widened, the only reaction that coloured his face. Natasha, on the other hand, was swift and quick as her whiplash reaction kicked in. She had watched Barton fall far too many times, some even by her own blood-stained hands. No, she would not allow this.

"What did you do to him Loki!" Romanoff screamed, running to his side and holding him up, but in that spilt second she tumbled to the floor as well, gasping for air. Everyone jolted into a steady panic.

"Fuck! Banner, Steve, don't you guys lay a single finger on them! You become like that as well. Loki, what the hell did you do?!" Stark assumed control, angered. It must be some air-borne virus, or perhaps it was a trigger-

In response, Loki merely sat quietly in his chair. "It will pass. They are not in any danger."

"What the fuck do you mean-"

Thor held Stark back, a serious look on his face. It was surprising to see the Thunder God as calm as he was. Why was he not whipping that humongous Thunder Hammer out and whacking Loki's brains out already? Tony seethed inside. With Thor holding onto Tony, Steve and Banner was wise enough to remain still. Whatever it was that was happening, it would do no good to panic for sure. They stared at the duo thrashing and writhing on the floor, rooted to the spot. Thor let out a harsh breath, long and deep, before speaking up, "My Brother is right. I know of these stones myself. They do not experience real pain, Man of Iron. It is merely in their heads."

Steve then looked up, and asked, voice laced with worry, "When will the imaginary pain-inducing drug wear off then? What do you mean by that?"

Loki spoke up this time, "It will wear off soon enough, when their bodies grow weary of the stress the mind is putting on them. They will then fade into an unwilling state of unconsciousness. When they awake, they will be fine."

"What kind of dumbshit stone is this-" Tony spluttered, utterly dumbfounded by the scene before him. Not once would he believe Loki's lies, but why was Thor agreeing with him? What did that mean? Thor glanced to the suddenly quiet Loki, to the Man of Iron and the other team mates, before speaking. "This is no ordinary pain they are going through. The stone is not accursed, it has merely been filled."

"With the acclaimed ditzy MAGICK that God over there has? Dirty scumba-"

Steve, usually the slowest of the group, suddenly got it then. Horror gripped him. "Tony. It's not magic."

"Well what is it then?"

The Thunder God looked at Loki, whose eyes were looking away, as he said, "They're experiencing Loki's memories, the ones he input into the memory stone."

The three Avengers looked at Loki, anger and mostly confusion flitting through their faces. "What?! What kind?"

Loki's eyes remained on the floor. "All kinds. Everything I have ever experienced till this day."

"Then why are they thrashing like that on the floor?" Bruce calmly asked, inhaling deep breaths.

"It's simply because they're experiencing what Loki has experienced. His memories consist of such pain, and therefore the archer and Lady Romanoff are both experiencing equal amounts of pain. It will pass soon enough, Man of Iron. When the Lady touched the young archer, she entered his current state of mind, and was engulfed by the memories as well. She would probably have missed out the first parts of Loki's lifetime." Thor spoke quickly, still holding Tony back, and continued, "Loki's experiences are contained within, but it allows the user to refresh one's memories within the span of a few hours. The Gods of Old, having lived long lives, use this often to remind themselves who they were. But such a tradition has long passed. I believe Brother was merely interested in the magic involved and thus tried it out as well."

"A few hours..." Steve muttered to himself, eyes on the two agents now wheezing on the floor, unwilling tears streaking down their faces.

"I am young. It will barely take an hour. Though I doubt they will last throughout." Loki voiced out from his seat.

"When will they-"

As if on cue, the agents on the floor passed out, bodies limp and limbs splaying awkwardly, eyes closed and forehead covered with a sheen of sweat.

"Now."

-•-

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