yukimanga1112

Loki woke up that morning to see a mob of Jotuns surrounding him, wielding whips and clubs. He hoped that they would kill him, but knew that they would simply beat him nearly to his death. He did nothing to preserve his dignity, he didn't sit straighter or look at them in stubborn denial. There was no dignity left in the once-proud princeling. He simply sat against the blood-stained wall of ice to which he was chained, awaiting their blows with an almost sarcastic disregard. When the blows began, Loki felt almost numb to the pain, being accustomed to it by now. He faintly heard himself crying out in pain, but consciously he had buried himsel

How long had it been? A year? Loki had lost track of time. After the first month or so, he had had to revert to his Jotun form. It had kept him from freezing to death, but now, when he had given up, when he would have gladly welcomed death, he found himself unable to return to the way he had been. He was in terrible pain. He had almost broken the chains on his wrists, and so a small group of Jotuns had come to beat him with chains. He was bloody and weak. And he wanted to die. Loki reached for a sharp shard of ice on the ground, wishing to plunge it into his own heart. He could almost reach it, but the chains restricted him. He slumped back