Who Did This To You?
Summary: You'd grown up with the Princes of Asgard. They were your friends. And sure, things weren't always as sweet as pie with the God of Mischief, but you could trust him.
I'm a slut for (vaguely) enemies to lovers and the "Who did this to you?" trope, but really, who isn't?
Of course, that means someone did something bad, so here's your warning for attempted sexual assault.
18+ only, MDNI.
Word count: 5128
Read on Ao3 // Part Two
The slap of your feet on the cool stone echoed around the palace walls, the familiarity of your surroundings lost as the fear distorted the maze in front of you. Their yells seemed to follow you even as the distance between you grew, your ragged breaths doing nothing to drown out their voices. You skidded around the corner, lifting the skirt of your dress as you ran up the stairs, up and up until at last you recognised the floor you were on. The rational part of your brain hadn’t caught up yet, you were moving purely on instinct as the tears spilled down your cheeks.
Finally, the dim light of the palace grew brighter, and you had to swallow down the bile in your throat as the guards turned to you, eyebrows drawn together as they took in your dishevelled appearance. Your lungs burned for air, your legs struggling to keep up with the fear driving you on. One of the guards reached out an arm to stop you, but you slipped past his grasp as he called out to you. The thud of boots behind you as they followed sent another wave of nausea through you, and you stumbled, your hands grazing the stone beneath you as they broke your fall.
The door ahead of you creaked open, and you lifted your head to meet the gaze of your prince.
—----
The trickle of blood was warm down your leg as you blinked back tears, trying your best to ignore the stinging of your knees as you pushed yourself to your feet. You rounded quickly on Loki, your palm connecting with his cheek with a satisfying CRACK.
He stumbled back, cradling his face in shock. “How dare you! I am your prince-”
“I don’t care if you’re a prince! You’re an arse, is what you are!”
Thor’s chuckle echoed from behind you and you spun around to him, embarrassment heating your face. The golden prince raised a brow at you. “You may be right, Y/N, but you probably shouldn’t say it quite so loudly.”
You bit your lip, looking up at the palace that sparkled in the sunlight. You flicked your eyes back down at Thor. “He pushed me.” You couldn’t help the petulance that laced your words.
Thor frowned at the boy behind you. “Brother, you shouldn’t hurt a Lady.”
You heard Loki’s snort. “Look at her, she certainly doesn’t look like one.”
It was your turn to frown, and you turned to him as you fumbled with the knot you had tied your skirts in around your thighs. “Well I couldn’t exactly race you if I was tripping over my dress, now could I?”
Loki sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. “You still lost.”
“Because you cheated!”
“Sshh!” Thor’s hushing stopped you mid-march towards Loki, and it was then that you heard the quiet chatter of your mother and the Queen.
You dipped into a low curtsey as the pair appeared along the path, arms linked together in friendship. “Your Majesty.”
“Lady Y/N.” Queen Frigga greeted with a smile, “We thought we might find you all out here.”
Your mother pulled away from the Queen, extending her hand to you. “Come, let us leave Her Majesty to talk to her sons.”
You took her hand with a well-practised smile, curtseying to the royals in turn. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, Your Royal Highness.” Thor and Loki struggled to contain their amusement at your manners; having grown up together you only ever bothered to refer to them by their proper titles in the presence of others.
You walked away arm in arm with your mother, barely listening as she chatted enthusiastically about your closeness with the princes. Instead, your mind wandered to what bribes you could offer Thor to fill Loki’s bed with raw fish.
—--
You panted beneath Archer’s touch, his hands firm on your waist as he nipped at your throat. Your eyes flew open as you bit your lip to hide your smile in the moonlight. It was Archer, wasn’t it? Or was it Hunter? You swallowed your giggle as you considered the absurdity of your own forgetfulness, your distracted mind not noticing the glimmer of magic at the corner of your vision.
The boy pulled away, searching for your lips, but you planted your hands on his chest, batting your eyelashes at him. “I should get back before they notice I’m gone.” You murmured, smiling at his protests. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
You pushed off the tree and out of his grasp before he could say another word, making your way back onto the path and up towards the palace. You managed to avoid anyone of importance, slipping into your chambers unnoticed.
You sighed as you took in Loki’s nonchalant expression as he reclined back on your couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table before him as he lifted a goblet to his lips. “It’s quite improper to let yourself into a Lady’s rooms, you know.”
The God of Mischief smiled wickedly at you, eyeing you up as you made your way over to the mirror, inspecting your reflection for any signs of dishevelment. “And you know how much I love all things improper.”
You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore him. “Is Thor still walking me down to dinner?”
“Of course, who else would escort the birthday girl?” Loki sat up, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched you smooth out your dress. “Lady Y/N, finally of age… All of the Lords will be scrambling to court you.”
You snorted, turning to him with a smirk. “Let them. You know I’m not-”
“I wonder what they’ll say when they find out you’ve been whoring yourself out to a servant,” Loki said frankly, watching you over the rim of his goblet as he took a sip. You opened and closed your mouth in shock, before his visage shimmered and faded. A warm body pressed against your back as an arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand tucking your hair behind your ear as you stood frozen. Loki’s breath tickled your neck as he whispered in your ear, “You really should be more careful, darling, anyone could have happened upon your little meeting in the woods.”
You silently scolded your body for the reaction to his touch, a shiver creeping up your spine. He was teasing you, mocking you, enjoying the proximity of your bodies contrasting your mutual dislike for each other. You pulled away with a frown. He let you go, watching as you picked up his discarded goblet and downed the contents. You winced at the burn in your throat, coughing. “You’re such an arse.”
Loki smirked at your words, pulling a flask from his pocket as he made his way over to you. He poured the amber liquid into the goblet in your hand as you jabbed a finger into his chest. “Don’t you dare say a word to anyone.”
“Would I really do that?” He raised an eyebrow at you and reached for the goblet. You pulled it away from him with a pout.
“Promise me, Loki.”
“You have my word, darling,” He smiled, tracing his thumb over your cheek. You frowned once again at his mocking and stepped back, but he caught the hand that was wrapped around the goblet. “I think you’d better give that back.”
“Why?”
“It’s not meant for your delicate mortal body.”
“I’m not delicate-” Your childish rebuke cut off as all the blood seemed to rush to your head at once, and you swayed on the spot. Loki took the goblet from you, nudging you back onto the couch.
The prince hummed as he considered you, “I probably should have stopped you before you finished the glass.” He sat down next to you with a sigh and you bounced slightly. “Oh well.”
You closed your eyes as the dizziness began to subside, reaching out a thump and meeting Loki’s arm with a satisfying thud. “Don’t pretend you’re sorry.” You could practically hear his smug grin.
A knock sounded at the door and you opened your eyes. “Come in.”
Thor strode into the room, bowing absurdly low before you. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”
You giggled, standing up and offering your hand to him to kiss. He did so with a wink, pulling you to tuck your hand in the crook of his arm. “How are you this evening?”
“I’m well, thank you.”
“My brother hasn’t been pestering you, has he?”
You ignored Loki’s snort of indignation. “No more than usual.”
—--
Your mother fussed with your hair as you stood outside of the banquet hall, rowdy cheers echoing down the hallway from the feast. You batted her hands away. “It’s fine, mother. Let us go in, I’m dying to say hello to the Princes.”
“They only become more handsome with each new victory under their belt, don’t they?” She smiled as if she knew what you were thinking.
“Oh, do leave it be, mother.” You rolled your eyes.
“You’re not getting any younger, dear. You could do much worse than a Prince of Asgard.” She looked at you pointedly and you huffed, pulling her into the hall.
You curtseyed to the King and Queen, and left your mother with Frigga. You made your way down the hall, nodding to those that greeted you, until a familiar booming voice called your name. Thor waved you over, motioning away one of the lords to make room next to him and you curtseyed to him before sitting down. He pulled you under his arm in a hug and you laughed, thanking him as he poured you a glass of wine.
“How have you been, Lady Y/N?”
You took a sip of your wine, glancing at Loki as he sat opposite you, immersed in conversation. You were thankful to avoid his sneer at yours and Thor’s affections. “I’m well! I’m afraid I have nothing new to tell you,” you smiled at the golden prince, “I can imagine that you have plenty of stories to tell me, though.”
Thor needed no more encouragement than that, and launched into a battle story that was sure to become legend as you waved over a server to refill the jugs of wine.
You lost track of time as you listened to his stories, laughing with your friends. Loki joined in occasionally, barely sparing you a glance. You hated to admit that his lack of acknowledgement stung; it wasn’t as if you were best friends, but you had always thought you shared a unique understanding of each other, having spent most of your childhood together.
You flicked your gaze to the guards, who were trying their best to act as if they couldn’t hear the sounds of destruction coming from the prince’s chamber. You offered them a polite smile, asking them if they might give you some space.
When you entered Loki’s rooms, they looked as if they had been ransacked. Chairs were overturned, a vase of fresh flowers lay shattered on the ground, and a seething prince paced the length of the room. The various stacks of books lay untouched, you noticed, and you tried not to smile. Even when he was angry, Loki couldn’t bring himself to destroy anything of importance.
You picked up a chair, setting it down properly and taking a seat. You waited for him to speak.
“Their favouritism knows no bounds.” Loki hissed, mostly to himself.
You grimaced; of course it was this again. “What happened?”
“They’re throwing a feast! In his honour!” He spun towards you, lifting his arms in exasperation. “They didn’t even mutter a ‘thank you’ in my direction!” He laughed dryly. “He couldn’t even remember the ambassador’s name, the oaf. I had to step in and charm my way out of war. And then he somehow befriends them, turns the whole trip around, and I’m long forgotten, once again!”
“You shouldn’t call your brother an oaf.”
“Of course you’d take his side.” Loki sneered, stepping towards you.
“I’m not. I just don’t see the point in resenting him when it’s your Father that has angered you.” You didn’t break his gaze. Most would cower under the angry gaze of the god, but he didn’t scare you. You still remembered him pre-puberty. There was nothing scary about a spoiled little boy.
You looked around the room at the destruction. “You should clean this up before anyone sees.”
The god leaned over you, placing his hands on the arms of the chair and caging you in. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
You looked at him unwaveringly, and he held your gaze with fire in his eyes, until it eventually died down. He sighed, pulling away and waving his hand. The room righted itself, and you hid your self-satisfied smirk. Instead, you stood, making your way over to him and resting your hand on his arm.
“It’s not fair, Loki, I never said it was. But you can’t give them a reason to scold you. Continue being the best you can be, and eventually they’ll have to notice.”
Loki offered you a small smile. “I preferred it when you were annoying.”
Soon, the hall began to empty, and your mother took up an empty seat next to you as Loki excused himself. You watched him go, dropping your gaze to your mother.
She wasted no time in getting to the point. “Her Majesty says that she is keen to get her sons courting, to take them away from their laddish behaviour.”
You had to stop yourself from groaning. “They’re not as laddish as you think,” you said, ignoring her obvious point.
She looked at you, unamused. “Y/N, you can’t refuse to court forever-”
“I think I shall follow Prince Loki’s sense and retire for the night, I am rather tired.” You interrupted her, standing up and kissing her on the cheek. “Goodnight, mother.”
You strode from the room before she could stop you, leaning against the wall outside to take off your heels and give your aching feet a rest. It was late enough that you were unlikely to be seen carrying your shoes, and you padded contentedly down the corridor, thinking of your bed and a glass of warm milk.
Taking a detour, you hoped to bump into a servant to request the comforting drink. You took your time, but didn’t see anyone, and so decided to head down a floor in search of assistance. The sound of laughter greeted you as you descended and you hurried towards the sound, eager to get back to your room.
Two guards stood to attention when they saw you, stifling their smiles as they nodded. “Can we help you, M’Lady?” One asked.
You smiled at them and opened your mouth to speak, but the second guard interrupted you. “Or maybe you can help us.” He smirked, nudging the other one. They shared a look before turning to you.
You frowned in confusion as they stepped towards you, but you barely had time to process the predatory look in their eyes before they grabbed you, pulling you into a darkened alcove. One pulled you back against him, his hand over your mouth to muffle your screams as he used his other arm to pin your arms to your sides. You dropped your shoes as you struggled against him, squeezing your legs together as the other one lifted your skirt, his rough hands dragging against your thighs. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as fear and disbelief coiled painfully in your stomach.
He pulled a dagger from its sheath, trailing the cold blade against the exposed skin on your chest, and you yelped against the hand on your mouth as he pressed it into your flesh, drawing blood. He collected it on the tip and brought it to his mouth, licking it off.
They both panted in excitement and the one in front of you chuckled quietly. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a real lady.” He shoved his leg between yours, pressing the dagger against your thigh. “Wonder if your cunt feels any better than the whore’s down the inn.”
You squeezed your eyes shut against his hungry gaze, tears cascading down your cheeks. This couldn’t be happening, it had to be some kind of awful dream. How had your wonderful night turned so awful so quickly? You were about to be raped, helpless against two armed men.
“Erik? Gunnar?” A voice called out, and the two men froze. Your eyes flew open and you watched as the guard in front of you slid the dagger back in its sheath, your skirt falling back down as he stepped out of the alcove.
The other guard held you tight, but your heart filled with hope and desperation. Surely you could take on one guard? You certainly couldn’t give up on what might be your only chance.
Slowly, you reached out your foot, searching for your shoes. When you found one, you slid it on, stamping on the guard's foot as hard as you could. It didn’t do as much as you’d wanted with him wearing boots, but it was enough that you could duck down out of his grasp. He latched onto your dress before you could make it more than a few feet away, and you spun around, digging your nails into any skin you could find, scratching until you drew blood. He swore loudly as his grip loosened.
You fled as fast as you could. The slap of your feet on the cool stone echoed around the palace walls, the familiarity of your surroundings lost as the fear distorted the maze in front of you. Their yells seemed to follow you even as the distance between you grew, your ragged breaths doing nothing to drown out their voices. You skidded around the corner, lifting the skirt of your dress as you ran up the stairs, up and up until at last you recognised the floor you were on. The rational part of your brain hadn’t caught up yet, you were moving purely on instinct as the tears spilled down your cheeks.
Finally, the dim light of the palace grew brighter, and you had to swallow down the bile in your throat as two guards turned to you, eyebrows drawn together as they took in your dishevelled appearance. Your lungs burned for air, your legs struggling to keep up with the fear driving you on. One of the guards reached out an arm to stop you, but you slipped past his grasp as he called out to you. The thud of boots behind you as they followed sent another wave of nausea through you, and you stumbled, your hands grazing the stone beneath you as they broke your fall.
The door ahead of you creaked open, and you lifted your head to meet the gaze of your prince. Loki took in the fear in your eyes, your tear-stained face, the bleeding cut on your chest, all in an instant. He moved quickly, silently helping you to stand before picking you up into his arms before your legs could give way. He cradled you to him as he moved you through his rooms and part of you wanted to lean into his warmth, the strangely comforting scent of him, but you couldn’t get the thought of the two guards out of your head.
He sat you on the edge of his bed and reached for your shaking hand. You let him take it, your sobs turning into shallow hiccups as you watch his thumb trace calming circles on your skin. As you calmed, you finally met his gaze, watching the storm behind his eyes.
He stood and you watched him through bleary eyes, waiting for him to laugh and make you leave. Your mind was racing, your heart hammering with adrenaline, and all you wanted to do was crawl into a corner and screw your eyes shut against the pain in your head.
Instead of laughing, Loki went to the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room. When he returned, he pulled a chair over and sat opposite you.
“Who did this to you?” The words were quiet, but firm.
You couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked your body at his words, the terrible gasps you made for air as tears began to stream once again. You couldn’t see the pain on his face as he watched you shake, yearning to reach out and comfort you.
The images replayed in your head, and you cried harder as you realised that he was watching them too, searching your mind for the answers he wanted. You could feel his boiling rage before he closed the connection.
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” His words were cold, and some part of you knew that he was protecting you from his true emotions, but you couldn’t help the painful pang in your chest at the thought that his anger might be directed at you. You swallowed the sob in your throat to let him continue. “You will go and have a bath, and stay as long as you need. I will have a maid fetch your things and bring them to you. You will sleep here tonight, under my protection. Understood?”
You’d never taken orders from him, and normally you’d laugh at him for even trying to boss you around. But you ached to feel the warm envelopment of the water, and you knew there was nowhere safer to be.
You bit your lip and nodded, standing on shaky legs. Loki reached out a hand to steady you, but you flinched at his touch. He withdrew it immediately, watching you silently as you half-stumbled to the bathroom and closed the door.
You stripped as quickly as you could with your shaking hands, determined not to let yourself break until you were in the bath. The water was too hot, but you welcomed the burn as you sunk in, the tears streaming silently down your face.
You held yourself tightly, as if you could stop yourself from falling apart completely. When you noticed the blood caked under your nails, you had to swallow the bile in your throat, hiding your hands beneath the bubbles as you scrubbed them.
A quiet knock sounded at the door and you struggled to find your voice to call them in as you crossed your arms over your chest. You averted your eyes as the maid placed down your things, collecting your dress. She stopped at the door and you looked up at her.
She bit her lip nervously and gestured to the dress. “His Royal Highness says to get rid of this, M’Lady.”
You swallowed hard and looked away. “Burn it.”
—----
Despite your protests, Loki insisted on you sleeping in his bed, and you watched as he settled himself on the couch. You fell asleep quickly, the lack of adrenaline leaving you both mentally and physically exhausted. It didn’t last as long as you’d hoped, and you woke up as the birds started singing, the sky still dark.
The tears leaked silently onto the pillow, and you found yourself afraid of your own thoughts. It’s as if you could still feel the two guards’ hands on you, and you absentmindedly traced your fingers over the cut on your chest. You sniffled, sitting up on the bed and wiping your nose.
You could make out Loki’s long form in the low light, his feet propped up over the edge of the couch as he slept. You didn’t think as you stood up, your aching legs carrying you gingerly over to him, stopping barely a foot away. You ran your eyes over his form, his dark hair splayed on the pillow, down to his softly parted lips. Your gaze lingered on the exposed skin of his chest as the top of his night shirt splayed open, watching the soft rise and fall of his breaths.
Why had you run here? Was this really where your subconscious had carried you? Why hadn’t you run to Thor? You bit your lip as you thought. You didn’t want Thor to see you like this. You’d never truly been vulnerable around him. And despite your best efforts, Loki had seen a side to you that most hadn’t, on more than one occasion.
You frowned down at your book as Loki sat down in the armchair opposite you, hoping that he would take the hint and leave you alone.
“I see you’ve already given up on the literature I recommended to you.”
You sighed, sparing him a glance. “I finished it.”
“All three novels?” He quirked an eyebrow at you.
“Yes.” You couldn’t hide your annoyance, trying once again to actually take in the passage in front of you.
“I didn’t know you could read so quickly.”
You knew he was only teasing, but the words stung, the comments from your tutor too fresh in your mind. You swallowed thickly, blinking back tears as you willed yourself not to cry in front of him.
Loki sighed. “I’m only winding you up, Y/N.”
“Well don’t!” You slammed your book shut, standing up with a huff. Loki caught your arm as you stormed past.
“What’s wrong?”
You bit your lip, knowing it was futile to pretend you were fine. Still, you didn’t particularly want to pour your heart out to him.
“My tutor says that we should stop our lessons. That I read too much and it doesn’t do a girl any good to be too smart.”
Loki dropped your arm and you sighed at his expression.
“I’ll be fine, Loki.” Your reassured him. “I’m just being over-dramatic.” You turned away and left the library quickly, sure that you’d embarrassed yourself enough for one day.
The next morning your mother informed you that Queen Frigga had recommended a new tutor, insisting that ‘young ladies should always be able to explore their potential’.
Despite your differences and your difficulties, you found you did trust Loki. You knew that he would never hurt you. You flicked your gaze back up to his face, your breath catching in your throat as you found him watching you.
“I can’t sleep.” You whispered.
He didn’t say anything, sitting up and gesturing for you to sit beside him. You sat, fiddling with the sleeve of your nightgown. Finally, he spoke.
“What do you need?” His words were soft, quiet.
You thought for a moment, your mind clinging to a ridiculous idea, a childish need for reassurance. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, instead looking at him and tapping your forehead with your finger.
He understood instantly, and you felt him searching your thoughts. Part of you expected him to laugh at the notion, but instead he offered you a small smile and reached out a gentle hand, tugging you to him.
You fell onto his chest, his arm around your shoulders, and your heart beat rapidly in your chest. It should have felt strange, being in Loki’s arms, but you found yourself melting into his warmth. You felt him rest his chin on your head, and realised just how comforting it was to be held by him.
—----
You didn’t realise you had fallen asleep until you woke to sunlight streaming in the windows. You blinked slowly, flicking your gaze to the couch to see it empty. Lifting your head, you found yourself resting on Loki’s chest, enveloped in his embrace. He must have carried you to the bed.
You wanted to be embarrassed, mortified even, but couldn’t find the energy to care as you stretched your muscles, finding yourself content in that moment.
Then, the memories of the night before came flooding back, and you breaths grew quicker. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and you sat up quickly, gasping for breath as you hyperventilated. You crawled off the bed, sliding onto the floor as you held yourself, trying to catch your breath.
Loki moved to the edge of the bed silently, and you felt him spread his legs behind you. He pulled you back to him, your back to the edge of the bed as you sat between his legs. He tilted your head up, his fingers kneading at your temples.
“Close your eyes,” he said quietly, and you obeyed, focusing on the feeling of his fingers. Your breathing began to slow, and you tried to untense your shoulders as you allowed him to ground you.
You stayed like that for a while, until you felt relaxed enough to open your eyes. You tilted your head up, looking up at him.
He smiled, a rare smile that wasn’t cruel or mocking, and it fluttered something in your chest.
“You should go and get ready, I’ll have breakfast brought to your chambers.”
You instinctively grabbed his hand in an iron grip. “Come with me,” you whispered, the thought of being alone sending a shock of panic through you. You didn’t want to think about how quickly your dynamic had changed, how much you needed him all of a sudden.
“Of course.” He squeezed your hand, before sliding out from behind you. You watched him change before your eyes, a glimmer of magic, and he was now dressed for the day and looking as if he hadn’t slept on a couch for half the night.
He collected your robe from the back of the chair, offering it to you. You slid it on, thankful for your chambers not being too far, a perk of being the Queen’s favourites.
The walk seemed slow, your legs tired from the night before, and you kept your eyes down, willing to get there as quickly as possible. As you passed a couple of maids chatting on their way to the Prince’s rooms, you found yourself turning to them, something in their conversation tugging at your brain.
“What did you just say?” You interrupted, not realising you had stopped.
“Oh! Your Royal Highness!” They curtseyed to Loki before turning to you. “M’Lady,” they curtseyed again before sharing an anxious look.
“We were just saying what a shame it was, M’Lady.”
“What do you mean?” You asked, tilting your head. You felt Loki stop behind you.
“About the two guards. They were found this morning, ‘said they drank too much and went for a swim and were found washed up on the river bank.”
Loki must have gestured behind you because the maids dipped into a curtsey and hurried away. Your hands were shaking when you turned back to him. Loki gently tilted your chin up with his fingers, and you found his eyes dark and stormy.
“No one will ever hurt you again, my love.”
// Part Two //
