#no one warned against the noncon and rape of ale no one told me that movie would be so fucking full of transphobia and homophobia wtf

[roterhonig-archive]

Okay so i just watched They call me Jeeg and I need someone to explain to me why we’re not talking about it more. There’s some seriously disgusting thing in that movie but all I see is Zingaro gifset without any self critical thought behind it. I’m waiting for that giftset of him killing Marcellone, that’d be fun right? /s

The queer coding is bad on its own, but the rape of Ale and the killing of Marcellone with all the homophobia layered in that movie is just too much. I wished I read does the dog die before watching it (or that I saw more talk on tumblr about it before hand so I knew what I was going to watch).

Yeah Zingaro is unhinged, you wanna know why? Because he’s queer coded so he must the be the worst kind of evil, completly deranged and immoral because that’s what all queer people are in media, a danger to society.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 XII

Warnings: noncon/rape, violence, trauma, allusions to torture.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You return to the capital but much has changed.

Note: Another chapter?! What!!!!! It took me a little to decide on how it was all going to unfold but I’ve figured it out and personally I think it’s just getting more and more intriguing.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You spent another day at Alfre castle. Loki left you to the chamber glowing with the constant spark of the fire and you were thankful for the space. Hal brought your meals and sat with you as you opened the shutters to look out onto the snowy yards for a time. When the chamber grew brisk, you closed them again and sat beneath a fur by the hearth.

It all felt surreal; like a dream. When you slept, you woke with a start, convinced you were still in the cart rocking between the slosh of barreled ale. As consciousness struck, you reached to your stomach and another shock came. There really was a life inside of you. You still weren’t certain how to feel about it.

On the third day, Loki roused you in the lowlight of the early dawn. He dressed without Hal and rubbed his eyes as he yawned. He had been busy, at what you did not know, or dare ask after. He pulled on an ermine trimmed cloak and handed you a lined cape of your own.

“Are we leaving?” You asked quietly as he hovered by the fireplace.

“We must,” he replied as he leaned on the mantle and watched the flames flicker to embers. “It is a long journey and I’ve much to do.”

You hadn’t talked much in the past days. It wasn’t that you and the king had ever had very much to speak on but there was a shift. It made you uneasy; afraid.

“Ask me.” He said as he turned to you.

“What?”

“I see it on your face, mouse,” he smoothed a fold in his cloak. “So ask me what it is that makes you quiet.”

“I’ve always been quiet.” You argued.

“Ah, but you’ve ever been obliged to counter my every word,” he went to the table and took the sewn hide gloves. “So speak to me.”

“Th-- Your brother. If he knows I am found, how is he still confident?” You wondered. “Does he truly think I would not tell what he did?”

“You underestimate my brother’s arrogance,” Loki chuckled. “And he believes he is unscathed because I’ve assured him he is. Before I sent him off after his accomplice, whom I knew he would not return with, I assured him it was the guard alone who had plotted against me.” He pulled on the gloves. “I saw the glimmer in his eye. I heard the guilt in his voice as he asked again after you. I told him you were too addled to recall what happened to you.”

“And he doesn’t suspect your deception?”

“My brother is not so clever as that. It is the very reason he gave up the crown.” Loki neared and braced your shoulder, “Up, mouse.” You stood and he swept the cape around you and tied it at your throat. “Say what you will of my father, gods rest him, he was a smart man, a wiser king. Thor inherited his brutishness but not his wit.” Loki stood back and his eyes flicked up and down you, “It is the only thing I would thank him for. And my mother of course. She was too intelligent for any of us.”

He spun away and paced around the small table. He turned back as it stood between you. “You’re quiet again.”

You stared at him. Loki rarely spoke his mind, his intent, his tricks so plainly. You were waiting; waiting for the cruel king who’d sentenced you to a cell and then his bed. For the man who had dangled you before the beasts who’d done worse.

“When we have returned to the capital, it will be as it was…” It was a question, a statement; you weren’t entirely sure.

He lifted his chin and inhaled deeply. “You are as you were; my bedwarmer.”

You nodded and pulled the cape snug around you. You didn’t expect any different.

“But you carry a royal bastard. I must consider that, too.” He continued. “I suppose, it cannot be entirely the same.”

Silence. Long, tense, hot despite the dying hearth. He looked at you and for a moment, you saw pity in his green eyes.

“Mouse, go on.” He urged. “I am listening and I haven’t time to coax your words so tediously from you.”

“Why not… Send me away. I’ll only grow bigger and when the child has come--”

His face hardened and he gripped the back of a chair. “It is my child. And you remain, as before, mine. You will have your time to convalesce but I see no reason to have you away from me.” He lowered his face, “Unless you do prefer the cell again.”

You swallowed the threat. You knotted your fingers together and nodded. Loki hadn’t changed, only the circumstance. A different sort of cruelty than his brother, but cruel nonetheless.

“Should we go, then, your majesty?” You swayed on your legs anxiously.

He looked up and pushed himself straight. “Let’s,” he waved you across the room, “When we are returned to the palace, Birger will need to look you over and we have delayed for long enough.”

He opened the door and waited for you to near. As you came to the door, his hand settled on the small of your back. He leaned in and lowered his voice. “That child means there is a part of me in you. A piece of my life. A king’s life is sacred; to threaten even a drop of his blood is treason. You mightn’t care for yourself but you will see my child safe.”

You turned to look at him and his gaze pierced you to your core. You pursed your lips and nodded. He nudged you through the door and caught your arm before you could go far. He took your hand as he guided you down the spiral stairs.

“Be cautious,” he said, “These steps are treacherous.”

You let him see you through the descent as your blood grew cold. You watched the dark ends of his hair mingle with the pale fur of his collar. A shiver crawled over your flesh and you blinked away tears. Had you been stupid enough to think he cared for you? No, it was only what you could do for him; what you could give him.

🐍

You were ushered into a carriage, this one unlike the frigid cart with its stout kegs. There were cushioned benches and fur blankets awaiting you. You suspected, however, that if it wasn’t for your condition, your transport would not be so generous. Hal sat across from you as you broke your fast on nuts and oaty bread. The boy’s task was to make sure you ate and rested upon the journey. Well, there wasn’t much else to do or that you wanted to do.

He was quiet as he opened a book and read and you peeked out around the curtains, the hooves of horses trod through the snow noisily, and the voices of your escort rose now and again. You hugged a fur around you leaned against the wall of the carriage.

You peeked over at the boy. What was it to be a man? To be a noble? He might be Loki’s attendant but he had more freedom than you could dream of.

“What is it you read?” You asked curiously, bored of the grinding turn of wheels and powder of snow without.

“A Reflection on Knighthood and Gallantry,” he closed the book and smiled up at you. “The king bids it.”

“The king tells you what to read?” You wondered.

His smile grew brighter and his cheeks coloured. “He does now that he has named me his squire.” He declared. “This book is a guide on how to be a proper knight.”

“And you can learn all that from letters?” You squinted.

“And the king would teach me combat by sword,” he explained, “Train me to fight in his name.”

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “That is a great honour. Do I call you ‘sir’ now?”

“Not yet,” he chuckled, “My lady--”

“That will never be my title,” you frowned, “I am still just… what I was.”

His smile fell and he watched you. He bent his head and thought before he spoke again. “The king did worry. He is only stubborn about his thoughts. Mostly about his emotions.”

“He cares for me as he does his favourite horse,” you scoffed, “If he could not ride anymore, he would merely find a new steed to carry him.”

“But you carry his child,” Hal countered, “That is a blessing.”

“A curse. A child I will not be allowed to love.” You folded your hands before your stomach. “A child many would hate for its ill-breeding.”

Hal was quiet. He set the book down on the bench and shifted. 

“I was with him when you disappeared. He was angry at first. That is often his first reaction. He thought you had run from him after how you’d been arguing since your illness. Then when his men did not discover you, he was concerned. And he saw the change in his brother and his guard.” The boy lowered his voice, “As I poured him wine, of which he drank much, he confessed he thought you dead.”

“And that thought troubled him?” You challenged.

“I think it did. He did not say it but he did not need to.”

You shook your head and sighed. “He would find another.” You said, “Easily. There are hundreds of peasants on the very streets I came from.”

“Well, he did change in your absence and the shadow has fallen away from him since your return,” Hal said softly, “Even as he readies for his betrothed he does linger with you.”

“Betrothed…” You’d heard the word before, from Thor. You hadn’t bothered to ask, hadn’t been so concerned or brazen. A king would need to marry eventually. You dared to hope it might distract Loki from you. “He is to marry?”

“A young princess from Ervil,” Hal said, “Syndia. She is expected in the spring.”

“So why should he want me back? He will get a proper heir on his bride.” You grumbled.

“Yes, why should he?” Hal grinned.

“Oh, hush,” you scowled, “You are young. The world seems romantic at your age. You will find it is truly tragic.”

The boy was quiet and his expression remained cheerful as he watched you. You tried to ignore him as you hunched in your seat. You pressed your palms to your stomach as it stirred. Were you hungry? Nauseous? It was hard to tell one from another.

“Stop,” you snapped at last as you looked to Hal again. “Don’t look at me thus.”

“My…” He stopped himself from the misplaced title, “I am happy to have you back, even if you will not believe it.” He said and took up his book again. “It was quiet without you.”

🐍

The capital was white with winter. You couldn’t bear to watch the streets pass as you entered the city. You would only be reminded of the life you’d never have again. You were tired and achy from days in the carriage. Sleep came in spurts but when you dozed, you returned to the grasp of your former tormentors. Awake, you never quite shook their hold on you.

You rolled through the gates of the palace and your carriage was directed around the back. You were shown into the royal abode apart from Loki; still a secret kept. 

As you were ushered down the corridors by the armored guards, you found it hard to keep your feet moving. You were reminded of Magnus and you had the stabbing urge to flee. The further you got, the more the finality of your sentence returned to you. You hadn’t been rescued, only returned to your former keeper.

You were shown into a chamber apart from the king’s. The change roiled your nerves and made you uneasy as you waited alone in the rooms. Perhaps he might be done with you. Perhaps you might wait out your pregnancy. Perhaps he might be diverted by his pending marriage and new bride. It might not be all as dire as you thought.

You paced as the door opened. Loki entered. It had been hours since your arrival but you hadn’t been able to rest. Every time you sat, you were back up on your feet within minutes. The king barely noticed you as he unbuttoned his deep green jacket and pulled a chair away from the square table for himself. He sat with a long sigh.

“You should not fret so,” he rebuked, “Sit. You will drive both of us mad.”

You stopped but did not sit. You turned to him and your skirts swirled around your legs. They were thicker than those he’d given you before; plainer. Thick wool padded for the winter air. He tilted his head as he took you in.

“My chambers are currently under repair,” he said, “So we will abide these.”

You chewed your lip and picked at the cuff of the gown. He kicked out the other chair and pointed to it.

“Sit,” he ordered, “Before I tie you down.”

You flinched. Your hands trembled and you clutched your wrist as you recalled the shackles around them. You still felt the weight; the skin still raw and tender. You remembered vaguely Hal and the guards struggling to unscrew them. You looked down at your hands and took a step back. You were overcome with a swell of terror.

Your legs crumpled and you curled up on the floor, covering your head as if you would be beaten. You rocked on your side and murmured, though your words did not make any sense, even to you.

You heard the chair, footsteps, and felt a warmth on your arm. You smacked Loki away as he touched you and you felt sobs lodged in your throat as you fought to hold them back. He caught your arm and cooed as he stroked your cheek.

“Mouse, little mouse,” he said calmly, “Shhh, please, stop this.” 

He snaked his arm beneath you as he sat on the floor and drew your upper half into his lap. He said your name and his thumbs gently brushed back and forth against your temples. He never used your name. You grabbed his wrist and your eyes rounded as you gaped up at him. You were helpless as your wits scattered around you.

“What’s wrong with me?” You whimpered.

“Nothing at all,” he moved to sit with you between his legs and leaned you against him. He rocked you back and forth as a hand stretched over your stomach and the other rested gently on your chest. “You’re safe.”

“No, no, I’m not. I’m not!” You shook and kicked your legs. 

He hushed you again as he continued to lull you. You gripped his leg tightly and he let you. He counted your breath as his fingers tapped lightly on your chest and you calmed after some time.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he muttered. “Mouse, can I move you to the bed?”

You nodded and he carefully stood. He lifted you to your feet and led you with an arm around your back through to the bedchamber. He sat you down on the edge of the mattress and dusted off your skirts. 

“You’ve made a mess of this.” He sniffed and sat beside you to loosen the laces of the dress. You winced and he stopped. “I only want to lay you down so you can sleep, mouse.”

You went limp and let him strip away the dress before he laid you across the bed and pushed a pillow under your head. Your thin shift was taut across your swollen breasts and rounding stomach.

“I will call for Birger,” he said as his fingers danced over your middle. He stared down at your stomach and a wrinkle formed between his brows. “Rest.”

He drew the blankets over you and strode away. You heard him curse as he approached the door. You stared up at the bed curtains and curled your fingers into the bedclothes. You closed your eyes as you listened to your errant heartbeat. You felt trapped in your own body, as if it wasn’t your own.

🐍

You recalled the physician beside you. He felt your neck then your stomach. He said some words you couldn’t decipher as the king’s shadow loomed at the foot of the bed. A fire flickered and you fell asleep to the smell of the burning wood and the taste of something pungent.

When you woke, voices drifted in through the open bedchamber door. The king’s, another. You sat up dizzily and strained to hear their words. As they came clearer, you sat back against the headboard and closed your eyes again.

“The lady is here and her child. We did have to take a slow pace due to the babe.” The man said. “We’ve word the prince has barricaded himself at Starseed.”

“Ah,” Loki snickered, “Well, you’ve my maps. You know the tunnels, the passes. You’ve covered them all?”

“Four men to each,” the other confirmed. “The lady does seek an audience.”

“She will have it when I am ready.” Loki countered, “For now, you will keep her and my nephew comfortable.

“Your majesty,” you heard the clink of armor.

“And the baker’s girl?” The king prodded.

“She is in the dungeons, as you ordered,” The man replied.

“Excellent,” Loki slithered. “And she is fit to talk?”

“We await your orders.”

You opened your eyes and slowly turned your legs over the edge of the bed. You stood with the aid of the bedpost and crossed to the open door. You peered through and leaned on the frame.

“Gilla?” You asked.

Loki glanced at you and waved away the armored guard with two fingers. “As you were.” He dismissed him and stood. The man left without ado and the king stood to approach you. “Mouse, you should cover yourself.”

“What did you do to Gilla?” You caught his hands before they could meet your shoulders. “She is in the dungeon?”

“There are many baker’s daughters in this city,” Loki said evenly.

“Then tell me it is not her,” you demanded.

His mouth curved and he dropped his head. “Alright, come. Sit.” He twisted so that he gripped your wrist. “We will talk.”

He pulled you to the chaise and sat. You lowered yourself beside him as he let you go. He leaned back with the heels of his hands on the edge of the cushion and slung one leg over the other.

“It is her. She was… favoured by my brother who is now, by royal mandate, a traitor,” Loki said coolly, “And by association, it is necessary that we hold her until her innocence can be proven.”

You gasped and your lip quivered. “She… your brother…”

“Oh, she went to him all too willingly,” Loki preened, “As she did, upon my first unpleasant meeting with the girl, try to throw herself upon me.” His lip curled. “By his word, she is easily bought with pearls.”

You frowned and bit down. You were sickened by his words but could not disbelieve them. You loved Gilla but she had never been very smart. It was her foolishness which had led you to that point.

“You think she conspired with him to… to do what he did to me?”

“Oh, I cannot declare my brother, a prince, a traitor upon his perversions but I can and I have named him such upon his plot to steal back the crown he proffered.” Loki stated. “A conspiracy which I have evidence of enough to convict him twelve times over.”

“Convict? Traitor?” You tried to clear your mind of the fatigue that lingered. “Gilla wouldn’t… she’s not that--that--”

“She is dull.” Loki snickered, “Even my brother could see that.”

“So why--”

“I need witnesses for the trial.”

“Trial?”

“I cannot simply assert that my brother is a traitor. That could mean civil war. I must prove it, without a doubt, to the people. So I need witnesses against him.” Loki explained.

“And you would coerce Gilla to go along with your evidence?”

“Me? No,” he smirked, “But I think you could convince her to tell the truth to the kingdom. On the gods themselves, to confess the prince’s treachery.”

“I…” you breathed, “But what would happen to her?”

“She would not have acted in my brother’s plot, but you know men do talk carelessly after their pleasure has been taken.” He sat up and looked you in the eye. 

“You wouldn’t hurt her?”

“She will be sent away.” Loki resigned. “Far so that none know of her fate.”

“And if I refuse to betray her?”

“Why, she’s already done the same to you,” Loki sneered, “But if you choose to stand on your obstinacy, I will draw the truth from her myself and she will not leave those dungeons whole.”

“You said you have evidence.”

“I do.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you not want vengeance? This is the way.”

“She is my friend.”

“She abandoned you. She left you that night of my coronation and when you did see her again, what did she do but preen in hopes of a jewel or coin?” Loki scowled, “She could not hide from me her envy of you. She coveted all I had given you. She did not care for your suffering.”

“And you?” You scoffed. “You don’t--”

“I never pretended to be your friend. I’ve always been straightforward in our… arrangement.” He shrugged. “You are kept well; you have clothes, food, and place in my bed. And despite your protests, you mewl in pleasure when you are at your duty.”

You stared at him; repulsed, stunned. You crossed your arms over your middle and lowered your head. One moment, he was holding you in his arms and cooing over you, the next he was speaking lecherously of how he delighted in abusing you. Threatening you into manipulating your oldest friend. 

But what else could you do?

“Promise, she will be unharmed.”

“On my orders, my men will not so much as look at her.” The king affirmed.

You nodded and raised your head again. “Alright… I’ll talk to her.”