#dark thor x blackreader

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Blood of the King

Chapter 2 Warning: 18 + only, character death, slow dark burn, character death, dark theme abortion is talked about in previous and future chapters Note: this is another self indulgence piece for me. this is so boring because i cant do a quick transition. tried hard to whittle it down.  Any critiques are WELCOME. Summery: Loki has a plan to be King. Dark Loki x Black Reader, Royal AU

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After you depart from the Prince, his man took you below deck. The large cold compartment containing no windows. The little light it did offer came from various cracks in the ceiling.

When he left you alone you crumple to your knees, crying as the shock of all the events wash over you.

Your mother dead, your kingdom gone and you were sure the Prince was bringing you before the High Church. Your stomach turns and knots as you fret, while the ships rocking added to your growing nausea. What you had in your stomach found its way on the floor as you try to steady yourself against a pillar.

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You had never been to sea and if you lived you would never step foot on such a vessel again. The days and nights melt together as there was no way to tell between the two. While the silence left you with only your running thoughts as company. Your mouth grew dry and your body weak, the longer you stay kept in the darkened room.

When the door opened you had little energy to move, only meekly shying behind the pillar as the prince's man steps inside.

He said nothing only placing a bowl down with a leather sack, your stomach ached for whatever the contents. Along side it he also placed a ball of bunched up fabric before standing. "Drink and eat then change." Was all that he spoke before leaving you alone again. Weakly you hobble to what he left you.

The gruel filled you, but did not stay down. While the water quenched the desert in you throat. Wiping your hands and mouth as clean as you could you gently shake the fabric. You lay out a dress and apron carefully, setting it far from the sick you expelled.

You undress as fast as you can manage. The letter tumbling out and you ponder its contents as you stare at it on the floor.

The new garments more conservative than your kingdoms and fairly loose. King Stark preferred more skin on his slave's garments, so you wonder if the High church had a hand in the design.

The head dress covers your hair, and without mirror you configure it the best you can. The neckline of the dress came high, the sleeves touch your wrists, the hem sweeps the floor, and the new apron cinched in your baggy sides.

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Thankfully when he returned you were decent. "Follow me."  Motioning you to come forth, your legs felt weak as you follow behind him. Your hands clasp together and your heart pounds as you ready yourself for what is to come.

After days of darkness your eyes ache at the first burst of light. Ascending into the blinding sun behind the man, you shield your eyes and try to keep pace. Once your vision clears you quietly gawked at the scenery. Thickets of trees and mountains stood tall in the far distance with a massive castle nestled between. The vast greenery was unlike your homes, and much too cold. The freezing air bled through your clothes, making you more thankful for the conservative dress.

Your heart sank once you reach the plank. The sight of the  small fleet of armored men on horses had brought your mind back to the church. Though the two carts behind them seemed too fancy for a prisoners exhibition.

As you descended the plank the distinct voice of the prince caught your ear, along with a chorus of foot steps. You fought the urge to look back continuing on with the nameless man as he opened the door to the first carriage, urging you wordlessly to go inside.

You sat anxious as strangers crowded inside and to your relief the prince didn’t follow them. A signal was called, starting the journey beyond. Your eyes shifted between the strangers all dressed in dark colors with hints of deep green. You looked at your own garb, and noticed yours was starkly different.

They stayed silent, not even chatting amongst them, a reoccurring them as of late. The prince commanded silents and order to a frightening degree. Exhaustion bled through your bones as their silence mixed with the sway of the bumpy terrain. The days spent on the boat you found little sleep as you mourned for your mother and despaired about your fate.

You fought fruitlessly to keep your eyes open, but slowly slipped into a heavy slumber. It was the deepest sleep you found in days, but the piece did not last as a thunderous bashing jolted you awake. Frantically you look around to find yourself alone.

Where was everyone? Were you dreaming all along? Had you slept walked into the stables? The door opened to the cart revealing yet another stranger, tolling away at his task of inspecting and cleaning the carriage.

He spied you. "Don't be sneaking about napping in our carriages." His accent thick as he spat at you. "Get on before we both are forced to suffer."

Cautiously you do as your told, exiting the carriage. More men busied themselves with the horse while others scrubbed the outer carriage, keeping it pristine. You were indeed in a stable, but not that of your countries. You felt lost in a new world, wondering listless as people move to and fro unconcerned or bothered by your presence. All acting as if their countrymen had not burned your kingdom to the ground.

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"Hey" a high pitch shout catches your attention, you froze as the source ran toward you. Your heart beat sped up the closer she came.

"Healer please hurry! We need all hands" the healthy woman with rose rounded cheeks pants at you. She matched Loki's description, you look around as if someone else would give you confirmation, but there was none. Unsure you dig in your apron, palming the letter. If you were wrong what would happen ? Swallowing thickly before shoving it at her.

She eyes it curiously then took it, opening it. You wait slightly surprised that she understood the scribbles upon the page. Her cheeks turn pale before she balls up the letter, stashing it in her own apron. "Right then. As I said all hands" She sounded shaken and it did not help set you at ease. What had the prince placed in such a small letter? You stiffen when she hooks your arm, leading you through the massive area. You bristle when shouting, cheers and rowdiness grow louder as a crowd appear in the distance.

She didn't stop once nearing them, only shoving past with you in toe. You flinch as a chorus of boos and projectiles flew through the air. Following their trajectory you find more armored soldiers with a man in chains.  

It was as if the world fell quiet once your eyes recognize their prisoner. Your king, draped in chains, battered and bruised. The soldiers force him along, ascending the stairs to a stage, while your guide pulls you off to a tent built next to it.

As they pelt him, he takes it in stride. Barking and cursing back defiantly on the stage. By the luck of the gods King Stark's eyes found you amongst the chaos. Your heart and stomach sink to the floor as he follows your movements and you his. Soldiers surround him forcing him down before a stump set in the middle of the stage. He fought furiously as they forced him on his knees, kicking and punching until he fell. King Stark's face was painted red with blood and visibly dazed from the assault.

"All right I will leave you to it. I must find the others" she explains before leaving you at the entrance of the tent.

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The sight inside of the tent was maddening. Dried blood stained the rags they wore, expose flesh, and bone had your stomach tightening. Some parts you were sure needed to be removed due to their rancidness and discoloration. The prince greatly overestimated your medical expertise.

You felt light headed while others dress like you move without hesitation. You do your best to mimic their movements without acting suspicious. Did he only want you as a healer? Were you kidnapped just to be a slave for a different king?

You fill your arms with wrappings, a grinding bowl and herbs you were the most familiar with. Gravitating toward the mouth of the tent to a man sat closest to the opening. Thankfully it looked like he only needed cleaning and redoing of his bindings.

Cleaning him, he sat silently watching the stage, unbothered by you. Slyly you watch along with him as you work slowly, hoping he didn't find it strange.

The tent sat close to the stage allowing for a side view. The crowd burst into joyful cheers as a mountain of a man with golden hair steps up on to the stage. His smile was bright even from here, raising his hands in the air the people quiet themselves.

"We have conquered!" The crowd erupt again. You yelped when the men in the tent cheer along with the crowd. "Their kingdom now ours." He kicked Stark in the ribs as he stayed positioned hunched over.

"A payment for a sour bargain" He laughed as your king spit blood, barley able to move. The tall blonde commanded the crowd, they adored him. He reminded you of King Stark in a way.

The golden mane man lifted his steel from it sheathed to the delight of the crowd. Their Kings sword came down swiftly and stuck in the stump. Resting at an odd angle, while your kings body slipped to the ground.

Stark's head rolled and bounced upon the stage, before he grabbed it by its hair. Showing it to the crowd as Stark's blood trickled from it.

"Do you think you have wrapped me enough healer?" The soldier brought you back to your surroundings.

"Sorry" you whispered as your hands tremble while you knot it.

Moving from him you search for another with similar wounds, until another healer asked for your assistance. You nearly vomit at the task of picking magnets from a wound, while she prepared an ointment.

When you finished you realized the crowd had gone and the tent had thinned. "Good work ladies" the woman who brought you here announced loudly in the tent. "Our king is proud of you all. Finish up and come to the hall for the feast."

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