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Chapter Text

It started in the library. That was your retreat, your sanctuary—the small slice of Asgard where you knew you would never run into Thor.

Thor. The Odinson. God of Thunder. The Crowned Prince. The Future King.

Your future husband.

It wasn't anything of your doing, but an agreement between fathers and grandfathers in days gone by. Those agreements were as difficult to break as any Valkyrie shield.

You had seen Thor before, of course. You had to. At every court gathering, at every official feast, there you were, a backdrop to his glory.

You preferred the library. The quiet hush of the shelves, the settling of dust over pages, they soothed your soul, quieted something desperate inside you that called for a fate beyond what your grandfather had drawn in contracts before you were born.

Today, you read a historical tome. It was the record of the war with Jotunheim, of the Ice Giants in their conquest of the nine realms, and Odin's valiant defeat of their ruler. You'd heard as much in stories your mother told you as a child. The military recollection was a great deal more thorough. The pages begged you to stay through the night, read by candlelight, but it was time to return to your chambers for repast and reflection. The tome, too, must return to its proper place.

You hummed to yourself as you strolled through the endless shelves of the library. You ran your fingertips along the spines of the books like a lover's caress. Books were never more than they seemed. Books never lied. When you were a child, you had vowed to read them all. As an adult, the prospect that there was more knowledge in these hallowed halls than you could absorb thrilled you.

You reached your destination and rounded the corner, thoughts still with the endless days of study before you, and came up short.

Two figures writhed at the far end of the shelves, twined together in a way that could only be described as indecent. You froze, mind grinding to a halt at the vision in front of you. He was all masculine power—claiming, clutching. She was in rapture, absolute ecstasy written across her features. Her skirt was around her waist, one leg thrown over his hips. His hand was between them. Her fingers tangled in his hair even as he marked her throat and chest with his teeth. She let out the softest of moans and he clasped a hand over her mouth, shushing her. No wonder you hadn’t heard them on your approach.

You were going to make your retreat (you were!) when he lifted his gaze and his eyes pierced you from over her shoulder. Your breath caught in your throat. You would have recognized those eyes anywhere. Emerald green, sharp and cold while burning with intensity—Loki, Prince of Asgard. You wanted to run, but he held you captive with his attention, like a rabbit caught in the sights of a fox.

To his companion, he gave no hint of your intrusion, continuing his ministrations while his gaze remained fully locked with yours. Her breathing became erratic, his ability to quiet her less sure. You saw the challenge in his eyes (stop me—say something—you wouldn't dare) as the woman became ever more undone. Then, as she unraveled—her cries unleashed to echo through your scholarly sanctuary—he smiled a wolfish grin that only you could see.

The spell broke. You fled.

#

You paced the perimeter of your room, chewing on your thumbnail as you did so. The book you had taken from the library sat on your desk, a two-thousand-page reminder of the sin you'd seen. And the sin you'd committed.

You couldn't tell anyone, of course. Such an accusation (against a prince and your betrothed's brother, no less) would only sully your own fragile reputation. Neither could you risk that Loki would tell anyone, as he could tell them anything he pleased. It was his word against yours.

What, then, to do?

You sat on the edge of your bed, head in your hands. It was there, the vision from the library, every time you closed your eyes. You'd known, of course… you'd read of the carnal pleasures. You knew what would be expected of you as Thor's wife. So, you'd learned. But descriptions in a book and the vivid reality you'd been presented? Those were two things apart entirely.

Could… could the pleasure on the woman's face have been real? Was it that… powerful? Would it be that way with Thor?

Somehow, you couldn't picture it. The wanton scene from the bookshelves didn't arise in your mind when you thought of your fiancé. Thor was all muscle and power. Could his monstrous hands be used for a purpose so delicate?

You tried to picture it, to conjure the image in your mind. You'd done so before, thought of your wedding night, but somehow all the crystal clear imaginings of the wedding and feast always dissipated into fog when it came to closed doors. You tried again now. There would be a bed involved—of course, why wouldn't there be?—and his arms around you—of course, where else would they be?—and then… then… damn.

Every time you tried to imagine Thor's body, you could only conjure a lithe form instead—pale and dark with whispered words that made your toes curl.

You huffed and scrubbed your face with your hands, standing in a hurry. It didn't matter. It didn't matter what would happen on your wedding night because it would be the same thing that Thor had done with hundreds of women thousands of times before. Why did you need to know? He already had every experience he needed.

And with regards to the witnessed tryst… Loki would do as he willed—the whole of Asgard knew that. Your only recourse was to act with the same dignity and honor you always had.

The first step was to return the book.

#

Sometimes you wished that you were a more formidable presence, someone who could stand beside Thor and still cast a shadow. Yet… sometimes you were grateful that no one noticed you within the palace walls. It was a skill, a sort of social invisibility, that allowed you to slip through the corridors without causing alarm.

You returned to the library, even more hushed than when you'd entered at dawn. Most lamps were extinguished, casting a powerful shadow over the space, but leaving enough light for you—who knew the halls so well—to navigate. You strode across the floor, anxious to have your task completed, and arrived to your destination with no mishap. When the book slid home, you felt a swell of relief.

"Satisfied, pet?"

You gasped and whirled around, heart pounding against your ribcage as if it could escape. Luminous, green eyes watched you from the dark. Loki advanced from the shadows, the black and green of his clothing catching the sparse light that flickered over the shelves.

You lowered your head, gaze dropping to the floor. "My Lord." The words escaped from your lips before you thought to say it.

Footsteps echoed across the floor until his boots came into your line of sight. Cold fingertips tipped your chin up until your eyes locked with his, unable to look away.

"I think," he said, "what you meant to say was 'Master'."

Your mouth dropped open at the insinuation. His hand traced a line from your chin, down your neck, over your shoulder, to your arm. You couldn't break his gaze, the molten depths far more effective than any shackle.

"I saw you," he said, "this afternoon. You didn't shy from me then. Why do so now?" He stepped forward, pressing you into the bookshelf.

"I didn't mean to—" you blurted. "I won't tell—"

"Hush, love," he whispered in your ear. "I know. You'll keep this our secret."

"That's not—" His leg pressed between your thighs, making you gasp.

"You were curious, were you not?" His hands took yours and pressed your palms against his chest. You squashed the whine that rose in your throat. "You wanted to know how she felt—how I made her feel?"

Oh, Stars, yes, you did, but… "No." You snatched your hands away from him, holding them protectively in front of you. "No," you repeated, but your words came out breathier than you'd intended. "I just wanted to return my book."

A smirk played over his face. "Is that all?"

You swallowed. This situation was entirely out of control. You could not (could not) be pressed up against Loki in the recesses of the library in the middle of the night. "I would thank you," you said as evenly as you could, "to unhand me before my betrothed sees your ill treatment."

Loki chuckled, his head falling to your shoulder. "Your betrothed?" he asked. "Do you really think it possible that Thor would discover you in such a position? When was the last time he set foot in a library?" Loki took a long, slow breath and his nose skimmed over your pulse. Despite yourself, you shivered and lifted your chin to give him better access. "However"—he stepped away from you and, in his sudden absence, you stumbled—"You may leave if you like. I have no desire to take what isn't freely given."

Were someone to come across the two of you now, they would think Loki was the picture of propriety, standing a stride and a half away from you, one hand neatly folded behind his back and the other held out in a gesture for you to lead the way. His face was a mask of polite, but distant, curiosity. You straightened your dress and turned to go.

"I believe," he said, his words halting you, "that you said you would thank me for your release."

You froze. He was right. You had said exactly that. And at this point, you'd say almost anything to be free of this library and accursed situation. You didn't turn, didn't look at him, but, with a miniscule curtsy, you uttered, "Thank you, My Lord."

When you once again started to walk, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. "No," he said, his voice closer now, practically in your ear. "Not quite right. Try again."

Not right? You'd thanked him. What more did he—? Your breath froze in your lungs as you realized the game he was playing. Heat rose over your face. You couldn't… no. It didn't matter. You could say anything so he would let you leave. "Thank you… Master."

He gave a satisfied hum and released your arm. "Any time."

#

Your room offered no rest. You tossed under your sheets, seeking a comfortable position that did not seem to exist.

It was ridiculous to remain fixated on him. What had you thought should happen? Obviously, you couldn't have let Loki have his way with you right there… even if you'd wanted to.

Ridiculous. You were promised to Thor. Your preferences, your wants, didn't matter. It was already decided.

You turned onto your back, staring up into the darkness of your ceiling. In every shadow lurked Loki's form. Your skin still burned from where he'd touched you—your waist, your hands, your neck, and something deeper still.

You shivered at the memory of his breath against your ear. Perhaps your future was Thor's, but here and now… your room, your thoughts, and your body were all still your own.

You closed your eyes and reached between your legs. This, at least, you knew how to do. Your hands moved of their own accord, finding your favorite places and falling into a familiar rhythm.

You had wanted him to touch you. In the privacy of your thoughts, you could admit that much to yourself. You'd wanted to be the woman he held against the bookshelves. You had participated in their union. Loki had drawn you into it with his gaze, made you as much a part as she was. And you'd enjoyed it, the show he put on, like it was a display made just for you.

You wanted to know how she felt—how I made her feel?

His name escaped your lips on a sigh. One hand tangled into your pillow while the other continued its exploration.

I saw you this afternoon. You didn't shy from me then.

The way he'd waited for you in the library, like he couldn't have wasted the chance that you would come back. His honeyed words had reassured you in the quiet, coaxed you into soft tones and whispers that were more suited for use between sheets than between bookshelves. The thought put a thrill through you.

You moaned, head thrown back against the pillows. Your breathing came in ragged gasps as your body coiled tighter.

As time ticked by, the reality of the memory blurred into the hunger of fantasy. His thigh between your legs, his lips against your skin, your fingers in his hair, his hands over your thighs, his fingers instead of yours…

Your body shuddered, clenched, and shattered. You muffled a groan into your pillow and rode out the spasms that took hold of you. In the still, quiet aftermath, as you laid tangled in the sheets, listening to your heartbeat slow, the memory of Loki's voice came back once again.

You said you'd thank me for your release.

You giggled aloud at the joke your mind made, hormones throwing you into a dizzying loop. "Thank you, Loki," you whispered into the dark, then drifted into sleep.

Chapter Text

Regardless of your late night fantasies, you had no desire to see Loki during the course of your day at the palace. This was made infinitely difficult by the fact that he was always around. You had never noticed how often you shared the same space as him until you desperately wanted to be anywhere else. Despite the fact that you knew you hadn't done anything improper (your only misdeeds, if any, were in the privacy of your own mind), you still felt his eyes on you. When you walked the halls, when you ate, when you spoke with your mother on the terrace, whatever you were doing, you felt the tingle of his gaze over your skin and when you turned, there he was. He always had the same expression, a sort of half-amused curiosity, like you were a puzzle he was trying to figure out.  

It was, to say the least, a level of attention to which you were unaccustomed. Usually, no one much cared what you did as long as you did it out of their sight. As Thor's future wife, your role—your entire purpose—in Asgard was simply to exist. You were a placeholder, a convenient filler for the princess-shaped vacancy at Thor's side. As long as you were present, pretty, and polite, you could do anything you pleased. Which, for the most part, was to read.

Yet, now, Loki had invaded even that space as well. Whether or not he was physically present, the ghost of your encounter with him followed you through the stacks. You felt his breath on your neck, his hand at your waist. At every turn, you expected to see him lurking, waiting for you as he had those nights ago. The thought itself wasn't unpleasant (and spurred more than a few midnight musings), but it was entirely inappropriate.

You muddled over the problems of it as you stood witness in the King's court. Odin saw to the business of Asgard and all the court watched, yourself included. Thor stood to one side of the throne, Frigga and Loki to the other.

It was, you concluded, entirely possible that Loki himself was not doing anything differently from before. What had changed was your attention to him. Where he had never before occupied so much as a spark in your mind, you could hardly say that now. You had grown conscious of him—his long fingers and sharp jaw, his humor which was matched only by his wit, his eyes that… were watching you.

From across the hall, Loki stared at you, just as you had been staring at him. No… not just the same, for he must have been aware of your attention. You dropped your gaze.

Perhaps not. Perhaps… he may have been looking somewhere else in the crowd. You were just one of a hundred observers. There was no reason to think that he had seen you blatantly gawking at him. And even if he had… perhaps he thought you were just watching the proceedings.

Of course. That was it. You were just—once again—too aware of him. Still, you didn't dare to lift your eyes until court concluded and you were sure he had gone.

#

Feasts were a regular chore. You supposed the merriment and liveliness was a salve to others, a welcome reprieve from their normal drudgery. For you, well… for you, there were far too many people and not nearly enough books.

Beer flowed, steaming platters of food passed, laughter and music mingled in the air. In another room, you knew dancers flitted and whirled with their scarves. You stood near Thor's table, but not really a part of it. You were never really a part of anything that he did. For the most part, that was fine. You did wish he wouldn't regale the crowd with tales of his romantic conquests. Arranged marriage or no, that wasn't something you wanted to hear.

As another story ended with a round of raucous laughter, you slipped away. That was enough for the night. You had done your duty; you'd appeared. You were present, pretty, and polite. Nothing more was required. In the aftermath, others would simply assume that you had been in a different room of the party from them.

In the empty corridor that would lead you away from the party and back to the safety of your rooms, you stopped to take your first full breath since the evening festivities had begun. The crisp, cold air that entered through the breezeway invigorated you. The silence rejuvenated the parts of your spirit that had become frayed around the edges. You inhaled again, holding the cold air inside so it could impart some of its serenity to you. As you released it into the night, you felt the familiar tingle of awareness on the back of your neck.

"Satisfied?" Loki's voice came from behind you, from the door through which you had just exited. You turned to face him. He wore the same expression as always—polite interest, subtle humor—but, with no one else in the hallway, he could only be looking at you. When you didn't answer, he approached. "You must have had your fill if you're leaving so early."

"Yes," you said, taking a cautious step back. "I'm tired."

"Pity. I had hoped that I'd find your energy to be bountiful." Heat flashed through your body. He couldn't have possibly meant for those words to sound quite that way. "Would you like me to come with you?" he asked.

You pushed aside the improper thought that jumped to the fore at his question. He wouldn't have meant that. An escort to your room, though? That was a silly offer when you lived in the palace. "I couldn't trouble you so."

"It would be no trouble. I think I would rather enjoy your company." He was a great deal closer to you now, though you didn't remember seeing him approach.

"I'm just returning to my room. I will be alright on my own."

"Your room? I had a different destination in mind." He was close enough now to capture your hand and wind his fingers through yours. He lifted them to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn as he spoke. "I thought we could go to the library. I know of a hall that not even you are acquainted with where we wouldn't be disturbed." His voice was lovely, like honey dripped over your skin and you found that you didn't want him to stop talking. "Or the gardens? Your hair would look exquisite in the moonlight." His words wove around you, lulling you into a place where you didn't notice him invading the space between you until he was inexplicably closer. "Though, perhaps, it's too cold for that." His hand slid down your waist, over you hip and he closed the final distance to your body. "My chambers are warm. There's a fire, blankets. You'd be more than welcome there." Your body pressed all along his and you stared up in his eyes as if they held the stars. "You would look lovely in my bed," he said. "The sheets are the perfect shade to compliment your skin." His hands came up to trace your face, stroking soothing lines over your cheeks. "You have such nice skin. I'd love to see more of it. I'd like to see how it looks against mine." He leaned closer, as if he might kiss you, but stopped a hairsbreadth away, enough that you felt his breath against your lips when he spoke. "I want to see your expression when you beg me for more." His voice dropped to a bare whisper, a sound so low that perhaps you heard with your soul rather than your ears. "I want to explore every part of you, find every secret you keep. I want to watch you come undone in my arms." His words painted an image more powerful than any that you'd conjured for yourself before: a vision of tangled sheets and limbs, of breathy sighs and pleas, of Loki over you and around you and inside you. "Does that appeal to you, pet?"

The grip of his hand around the back of your neck grounded you and you struggled to regain your composure. You shouldn't be doing this and there was a reason… even if you couldn't remember what it was through the fog Loki had cast over you. "I don't want to go anywhere with you," you said, determined to make yourself clear.

He seemed to consider that. "Really? But are you sure? It is rather daring to do something so intimate here with so many people nearby. Don't you fear we'll get caught?"

The tiny tone of mockery in his last question broke the spell he'd cast over you. The pieces slid into place and the haze cleared from your mind abruptly. He was making fun of you—trying to manipulate you with memories of your previous encounter. It was a power play.

You shoved against him, not succeeding in moving him at all, but managing to push yourself enough away to have breathing space. "Why are you doing this?" you asked, fueled by the indignity of the situation. "Why tease me when I haven't done anything wrong?"

"Tease you?" he said, "Darling, I think you have entirely the wrong impression. I'm not teasing you. I haven't offered anything that I am not eager to give."

Your heart stuttered. "What?"

"I've taken an interest in you," he said. You scoffed and attempted to turn away, but he laid his hand against your cheek, forcing you to look at him. "Is that so hard to believe?" He ran his fingers over an errant curl that had fallen to your shoulder. "Just because you think no one sees you doesn't mean you're invisible. I see you. In the library with your books. In the throne room, watching your feet rather than your fiancé." He leaned closer to whisper his next words in your ear. "I see you at night, in your room, sweaty and sated and thinking of me."

You recoiled, breath frozen in your lungs. It felt as if all the blood drained from your body, leaving you a shell of mortification. How could he have possibly known? No one—no one—could have known about that. You pulled away, your only thought to escape.

Loki stopped your flight with his hand around your wrist. His sharp laugh echoed through the hall. "No, no, don't." He drew you back to him, the ghost of a smile still playing over his lips. His hands ran over your arms in a caress, gentling you down from your panic, but you regarded him with new wariness. You refused to fall back into the pliant haze he'd coaxed you into before. "Forgive me," he said. "Perhaps that was mean of me." He stroked his thumb over your cheek and his eyes softened as he looked at you. "But you did bring it on yourself. What did you think would happen when you spoke my name? I simply came when summoned." His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. "And what a delightful summons." He buried his face in your hair and brushed his lips against the shell of your ear with each word. "Tell me, what did you imagine? What desires did your thoughts of me conjure?"

Your heart stopped. Certainly nothing that you had any intention of voicing to him. You stared ahead with wide eyes, trying and failing to come up with an explanation or excuse. Your brain spun in circles without gaining traction. He took full advantage of your distraction, fingers tangling in your dress and hair, teeth gently scraping along your jaw.

"Loki!" Thor's thunderous voice rang out from an adjacent corridor. You jerked from Loki's arms, though he himself didn't seem to be in any sort of rush to relinquish you. Only when Thor appeared at the end of the hall did he finally turn his attention away. Thor saw Loki and lit with anticipation. He didn't even seem to notice that it was you that Loki had pinned in the unoccupied corridor. "Loki, come quickly. Volstagg has challenged Lady Sif in combat." The broad grin over his face showed that this was evidently going to be quite a spectacle.

"That does sound dreadfully dangerous for him," Loki replied, a dry sort of mocking in his tone. Thor laughed and threw his arm over his brother's shoulders, leading him away.

You leaned back against the cool, solid comfort of the corridor wall. Stars… you were in trouble.

Chapter Text

What a delightful summons…

You threw your pillow across the room. You knew Loki had tricks and magic—everyone knew that—but how in all the stars were you supposed to know that he could do that? That, no matter where he was in Asgard, he would hear the sound of his own name? That wasn't normal and, frankly, it wasn't fair.

You had never done anything to betray your obligation to Thor in your life and that this, something you'd done in the privacy of your own room, something that no one would speak against, was your undoing was the height of injustice. That Loki should know what you'd thought of him… it… it was… tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. It was humiliating, which, you supposed had been the point all along. You couldn't stop him from telling anyone. You couldn't stop him from lording it over you. You couldn't stop him… so why try? Why fight so hard against something you wanted? You stood in the middle of your room and fisted your hands in your skirt. He already knew you desired him and until he got what he wanted, he wouldn't relent. If all it would take was one night with him, then maybe you could get this out of your head. What more harm could you cause?

"Loki," you called to the room, voice wavering in the tiniest betrayal of your uncertainty.

Loki's voice appeared behind you. "Perhaps I should have kept my secret from you a little longer." You turned to find him lounging across your sofa, one arm thrown over the back, every inch of him the self-possessed royal. "I so enjoyed your shows."

You swallowed and looked away. Loki appeared just as at ease in your room as he had at the library, in the throne room, in the corridor, everywhere. How did he manage to look as if he owned any space in which he entered? How could he make you feel like a visitor in your own room? "Will you tell Thor?" you asked.

"Will you?"

"No."

"Then why should I?" You nodded, more to yourself than to him. You couldn’t look at him, your eyes instead fixed on the curtain that concealed your window. "Don't be like that," Loki said. "Look at me with those lovely eyes."

Your gaze snapped back to his. You hadn't called Loki here just to talk about Thor. The glint in his eyes told you that he knew this already. "Did you"—you swallowed, though your throat was dry—"Did you mean what you said earlier? That you weren't teasing me?"

A fire lit behind Loki's eyes. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. A slow smile spread over his face, predatory hunger written in his features. "Come here and I'll show you exactly what I meant."

Heat flashed over your skin, even as a chill raced down your spine. This was not a fantasy. This was not a line that could be uncrossed. Your treachery had only been in your mind up until now. But… if you acted on your thoughts… Your eyes flickered away from his and you cleared your throat. This had been a mistake. You shouldn't have—

"Oh, pet, no," Loki said, interrupting your thoughts. "Don't hesitate now. Don't be afraid." He reached his hand out to you, beckoning you forward. Despite yourself, you found your feet carrying you to him. "You have nothing to fear from me," he said, taking your hand in his and drawing you onto the couch by his side. "I won't do anything you don't wish me to." A wicked gleam came to his eyes. "Though I am capable of making you wish for all kinds of things." Loki ran his fingers over your temple, down the side of your cheek, murmuring all the while. You let his words seep into your skin until you felt your breathing even out and your heartrate return to a steady rhythm. "What do you want?" he asked, voice dropping to the same tone of molten gold that mesmerized you the last time. "You need only tell me."

Your breath caught with renewed uncertainty. You had thought Loki would take charge, not leave things in your hands. But he watched you with the same amused curiosity that he always had, as if his only interest was whatever action you took next. Your tongue flicked out to wet your lips. "I want to kiss you."

"Then you may do so."

You moved closer, though there wasn't much room to begin with. You raised your fingers to trace the line of his jaw, but before you could, his hand caught yours.

"Am I to believe that you don't know what it means to kiss someone?" Loki asked, humor sparkling in his eyes. Huh? You had just been… "You do it with your lips," he continued, "not your hands."

Oh. It was a game. Of course—with Loki, everything was a game. You smiled. "I want to touch you."

Loki grinned wider, clearly pleased that you'd caught on. "Then you may do so."

The hand that held yours captive now pressed your palm to his cheek. Loki's eyes closed and he rubbed his face against your hand, almost catlike. You wouldn't have been surprised if he started purring. You brought up your other hand to stroke through his hair. Soft, so soft. You shifted even closer and breathed deeply. Loki smelled like the forest after the rain, like rich earth and hidden places. Would he taste just as good?

You brought your legs under you for better leverage, now kneeling next to him. Loki opened his eyes again to watch and you burned under his attention. Your hand continued to stroke his hair while the other trailed down the front of his tunic.

"I want to see you."

Loki made a pleased sound deep in his chest that went straight through you. "I'm still waiting for the kiss you asked for. Or do you intend to leave promises unfulfilled?"

Well, if he was going to tease, you might as well play along. "I'll get to it," you said. "But, I didn't say where I wanted to kiss you."

Loki laughed, full and loud. It filled the room and made his chest rumble beneath your hand. "Indeed, you didn't," he said. He sat up, pulled his shirt over his head, then resettled on the couch, lounging away from you so he was practically laying down, so the only way to reach him was to crawl on top of him. Clever man, with his tricks and traps and games, not asking for what he wanted, but ensuring he would get it all the same.

Still, you didn't move. Not yet. You'd said you wanted to see him and you intended to look your fill. He was muscular, but not bulky like his brother. There was an almost artistic efficiency about him, a lithe grace that was no less powerful for its beauty. He was all long lines and sharp edges. His chest rose and fell with each breath, a relaxed, comfortable motion that contrasted with your own feeling of tight anticipation. Your teeth worried at your bottom lip, an unconscious habit when you concentrated.

Loki's voice called you out of your distraction. "You're a vision like that, love, but this isn't one of your fantasies." He took your hand and placed it over his heart, pulling you forward so you loomed above him, still kneeling between his legs, hair falling down to frame his face. "You can do more than just imagine."

Your hand burned against his bare skin. This was what you'd wanted, what you'd imagined ever since you saw him in the library. And well… he had given you permission.

You balanced your weight in your hips so you could move freely without leaning on him. Your fingers trailed down the line of his stomach, your other hand coming to mirror the motion. Loki's eyes slipped closed under your ministrations and a smile touched his lips. He stretched to place his arms behind his head, looking very much like a cat basking in the sunlight. You mapped his body with your hands, exploring first his chest, then his arms, then his stomach and hips. You could feel his heart beat strong and steady under your hands. He made no move to touch you, to hurry you along, and you fell into a sort of trance, lulled by his feel and scent and warmth, by the soft pleased sounds he made when you found somewhere he liked to be touched. You made a mental note, though there was no point—you'd only be doing this once.

That thought filled you with a new anxiety. Just one night and how much further you had to go. And here you were, wasting time, procrastinating something as simple as a kiss. Why?

Part of your mind—a traitorous, shadowed place—whispered that you wanted to draw things out. If the memory must last the rest of your life… certainly the event should last the rest of the night. Still, there were things you wanted to get to.

You settled your body between his legs and planted your forearms on either side of his chest. A momentary bout of butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but before they could get the better of you, you licked a stripe up Loki's stomach from navel to sternum.

Loki groaned, a sound that sent goosebumps up your arms and emboldened you to continue. Your lips now retraced the paths that your hands had taken. You found every curve and dip of muscle, exploring with tongue and teeth what you'd memorized with your fingertips.

"Oh, pet, your mouth is making promises I don't think you'll keep." Loki's hands settled over the back of your head, tangling in your hair, but not stopping you.

"What promises?" you asked, as your lips skimmed kisses over the line of his abdomen, leading toward the waistband of his pants and away again.

He inhaled sharply when you scraped over the bone of his hip with your teeth. "Wicked things."

"I'm not wicked." You traced the line of one of his ribs with your tongue.

"Are you sure? You seem to enjoy keeping me in wait."

You sat back on your heels and regarded him. You'd been taking your time, but… was that okay? "Is—" You bit your lip. Perhaps he wasn't as satisfied as you were with the current pace. "Is there something you want?"

Loki's eyes flashed and he grabbed you around your waist and whirled you around, switching your positions so that you laid across the couch and he loomed over you. He didn't give you time to process that before he crushed his mouth against yours. He kissed you with a ferocity that demanded you respond and you met his intensity with your own. His hand went to the nape of your neck, pulled you ever closer to him even as he pressed you deeper into the cushions with his body. His other hand gripped at your thigh, drawing it up around his waist. His fingers dug in just hard enough to hurt. A whine escaped your throat and he swallowed it, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You clung to his back, nails digging into the skin below his shoulder blades. It was all domination, teeth and tongue and taking. When he pulled away you were absolutely breathless. "I want everything," he said, still holding your face to his. He ran his nose along yours in a strangely affectionate gesture while your mind spun through the millions of visions that statement conjured. "But not tonight."

Wait… what?

Loki pushed himself up so he could regard you more carefully then settled next to you on his side, propped up on one elbow to free his other hand to trace his fingers up and down your side. Your body ached at his sudden absence. The change in atmosphere—from the near desperation in the minute before to the lazy, comfortable repose that Loki now had—left you dizzy. He smoothed the folds of your dress over your stomach with his palm, then wrinkled the fabric again, just to repeat the process. It was almost the mirror of the exploration you'd made of his body, though your clothes remained in place. He watched his hand's motion, monitoring every rise and fall as he stroked his palm down over your hips, your thighs, and back up again.

But… this was the opposite direction from where you'd thought things were going. "What did you mean, 'not tonight'?" you asked.

Loki chuckled, "Are you so eager? I had no idea."

"That's not what—"

"I have no intention of being satisfied with one evening." Loki nuzzled at your temple even as his fingers dug hard into your thigh. "I plan to come back for you night after night. And I mean to make you ask me to do so."

"But don't you want to—?" You stopped. You may as well have asked Don't you want to use me for your pleasure? Well, there went every modicum of decency you'd ever clung to… You felt a blush rise over your face.

Loki chuckled. He toyed with the neckline of your dress, folding the fabric between his fingers. "You turn the prettiest shade when you embarrass yourself. I look forward to finding out just how far that blush extends." He dipped his head to kiss the exact center of your chest. "I have far more patience than you think. If it pleases me, I'll wait until you beg me to take you."

Indignation flashed through you. "What makes you think I would do any such thing?" You said. You tried to squirm away, but he rolled on top of you, pinning your body with his.

Loki didn't answer your protest, instead kissing his way up the column of your throat. He scraped his teeth against the skin, giving sharp nips, then soothing the pain away with his tongue. He shifted, forcing your legs apart and placing his hips between them. You gasped as he settled his weight over you and he chuckled. "Make no mistake," he said, "you will call for me, just as you did tonight. You thought you'd satisfy my curiosity and I'd be done playing with you?" Loki ground his hips into you and you moaned as you felt the hard evidence of his arousal through his pants. "I do as I please and, for now, it pleases me to leave you wanting." He nipped at your ear, a sharp emphasis on his point that made heat pool low in your body. Then he was gone, standing and pulling you upright in one motion. Loki's sudden absence left you chilled and bewildered. "Sweet dreams, love," he said, then smirked. "Do remember to tell me if I feature."

As Loki stooped to retrieve his shirt, you noticed a set of sharp lines down his back. Eight red marks… right where you'd scraped your nails over the skin. The way they moved over shifting muscle drew a wanting sound from inside you. He turned, head cocked, eyes appraising. You laid your hand over the marks, running your fingers to smooth over the imperfection you'd left in his skin. Loki hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I rather like them. I'll have you make me another set next time."

Next time. It was as good as a promise.

Chapter Text

Whatever Loki's intentions had been for you, they were abruptly put on hold when Thor led him and a band of warriors into a scuffle on Vanaheim.

You had never paid much attention to Thor's excursions before. His presence in Asgard did not affect you; why should his absence be any different? And Loki always went with him. So, once again, the only thing that had changed was you. You and your increasingly distracting thoughts of Loki.

It was becoming a bit of a problem. You stared at the pages of a book, running your eyes over the same passage again and again without processing a word of it. The letters kept transforming into figures that were entwined in passionate embrace. You couldn't concentrate, your mind constantly drifting into memories of Loki's body laid out in front of you, bare and magnificent. And you'd only seen half. Imaginings of what you had yet to discover were driving you mad.

No. No 'yet'. That was the problem. There wasn't supposed to be another time. That was what you had decided. And Loki had ruined that. You scowled. Infuriating, clever trickster. You still wanted him and that had been his plan all along.

Maybe his absence was a blessing, giving you time to get your head on straight. It had kept you from turning a one-time lapse into a repeated affair. If he hadn't left, would you have been able to resist the temptation the following night? Stars, how would you have faced him that morning? You probably would have burned with embarrassment.

You looked down again at the book in front of you, still on the same page you'd opened it to that morning. With a sound of disgust, you snapped it closed. You took a deep breath. That was that. By the time he returned, you were going to have driven him from your mind. You would not give him the satisfaction of being right.

Satisfied, pet?

You shivered. No, you weren't satisfied. Not even close. But you had lived a life without satisfaction so far. Why should this be different?

#

The palace had a set of heated outdoor baths on the upper floors that overlooked the lush forest. They were popular, but with the current frosty temperatures, you could almost guarantee that you'd be the only person to go.

You shivered in the frigid air and stripped out of your clothes as quickly as you could. The icy wind tugged at your body, whistling around the walls of the palace. You climbed into the large, circular tub, wooden planks of the sides rough against your hands. Hot water lapped at your skin, a heavenly contrast with the freezing air. You sank in up to your shoulders and gave a relieved sigh that misted the air in front of you.

Out here, with the trees waving in the forest beyond, you felt like you could really breathe. No people, no expectations, just you and the water and all the stars above. You looked up at them, winking at you from the sky. Your life was barely a sliver to them, not worth noting. The insignificance was somehow comforting.

You lost track of how long you soaked in the water, watching the sky turn, but you were brought abruptly back to yourself by the sound of the door opening. Disappointed at your loss of privacy (nothing you could do about it—the baths were shared, after all), you turned to see who had joined you. Strangers weren't so bad as long as they weren't chatty. If necessary, you could always leave.

Your heart forgot to beat when you saw Loki standing just within the door, eyes fixed on you. You gasped and dropped even further into the water, up to your chin.

"Well, then," Loki said, stepping further out and closing the door behind him. "This is a pleasant homecoming."

You crossed your arms over your chest to cover yourself if only a little, still struggling to come to grips with the situation. Loki wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't even supposed be on Asgard. He was supposed to be worlds away giving you space to drive him from your mind, not here in the same bath as you casually removing his clothing.

"What are you doing?" you asked, abruptly finding your voice as his fingers deftly undid the clasps of his shirt.

Loki raised an eyebrow at you, not pausing in his movements, now only half dressed. He carefully folded each piece before setting it aside. "Undressing," he said. He was so infuriatingly unfazed, like the two of you bathed naked together every day.

"You could at least let me leave first."

"I won't stop you from leaving," Loki said "You may go any time you like." You glowered at him. Of course you weren't going to get out now. If you did, he'd see you completely exposed. He smirked. "Besides," he said, "If you wanted privacy, you should have locked the door." He reached back to the door and flicked the latch into place. The metallic click had an ominous finality.

You weren't important enough to monopolize a bath. Loki would know that. You had grown accustomed to sharing over the years. You were even more or less comfortable with nudity, your own and others, but this was entirely different.

You averted your eyes when Loki undid the laces on the front of his pants.

Loki chuckled. "Such modesty. It's a lovely act."

Your temper sparked and you turned to him in a fury. "You're the one that's—" Your words caught in your throat. Because he was naked. Gloriously naked.

A strong chest tapered to narrow hips. That was nothing new, but still stunning. Loki's form was more lean than powerful, but perfectly proportioned. The muscles in his legs stood out at sharp lines. And at the juncture between them… Stars almighty… You gulped and looked away again.

The water shifted as Loki joined you, sloshing over your skin and leaving a chill where it exposed you to the cold air. He settled into the bath with a satisfied groan.

Minutes crawled by in silence as you stared resolutely away from Loki. You stretched the limits of your awareness, waiting for him to make his move. He would. You knew it. He'd touch you or tease you and you waited in tense anticipation, nerves all on frayed ends. You needed your guard up. But after what felt like an eternity of waiting, all you had done was coil yourself into a ball of anxiety.

"Say something," you snapped, finally turning to glare at him. Loki sat on the far side of the bath, arms open across the sides, just looking at you with his infuriatingly calm expression.

"I was merely enjoying the view." Loki's eyes raked over you and your skin heated everywhere they touched. You huffed and looked away again. He was teasing you, knowing how unsettled he made you feel. "Am I to take this to mean that you like hearing my voice?" he asked. The water shifted again and he was very suddenly near you. "What would you like me to say? Shall I tell you about your fiancé's recent victories in battle?"

"I can't say I would enjoy that." You didn't find stories of battle horribly intriguing. Who beheaded who, who drove what sword through whose gut… they were all terribly similar.

"Then perhaps I should tell you about mine."

You cringed. "That wouldn't be any better."

Loki's laugh rang through the night. "So honest." He didn't touch, but his arms on either side penned you in, forced you to look at him. "It was such a shame," he said, "to be called away just when things were getting interesting. I've thought of you these past nights. Of what I plan to do to you." Your heart thudded against your ribcage. He tipped your chin up to him and ran the pad of his thumb over your lip. "Would you like to know what I envisioned as I stroked myself in the loneliness of my tent?"

You swallowed, but your throat was dry. Loki had only a feather-light grasp on you, but you were as trapped as a rabbit in a snare. He didn't even need to touch you; he could hold you in place with his eyes alone.

Loki waited a heartbeat, seeing if you'd respond, and when you didn't, he continued. "I'd start slow, I think, take my time with you. Your body is wonderful." He ran the back of his fingers along your cheek, then down the line of your neck and across your shoulder. "Soft, warm. It deserves a proper exploration, don't you agree?" His hand slipped lower, under the water, and drew a line between your breasts and over your stomach, then back up again. "Finding my favorite part of you could take a while." You were certain there was air out here, but for some reason, you were having a hard time finding it. He traced the swell of your breast. Your eyes slipped closed and your world narrowed to the feeling of his hands on you, leaving fire in their wake. His hand smoothed down your waist, your hip, your leg, then ran up the inside of your thigh. Your breath quickened. He stopped just short of the juncture between your legs, leaving you aching. "Would you like that?" he asked. "My hands opening you up for me?" Your breath caught in your lungs because there was really only one answer. You opened your eyes and met his, certain yours were filled with want and pleading. He laughed under his breath. "Of course you would. All in good time, little one."

Loki took your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours in a slow, thorough kiss. It wasn't hard or insistent like the last, but leisurely, like he had all the time in the world and intended to use it. He tasted amazing, crisp and clean like fresh fallen snow. When his tongue swept over your lips, you parted them without hesitation. Loki hummed, pleased, and pressed closer, surrounding you with his body until the only things left were you and him and nothing but water between you.

Your hands came up to brush Loki's sides, a tentative exploration. "Yes," he said against your mouth. It wasn't a plea or permission… but a command. Touch me, please me. He tugged at your lip with his teeth, then left it in favor of the hollow of your throat. You pressed against him more firmly and wrapped your arms around his back, digging your nails into the skin. "Very good, sweetheart." Loki said against your ear. "You learn quickly." He returned to your mouth and one hand circled to your lower back, pressed you closer to him. The other hand wandered lower to cup your breasts, to tease your already sensitive nipples. You gasped into the kiss as he squeezed.

"You have a marvelous mouth," Loki said. "Your teasing the other night was hardly enough."

Your teasing? If you had teased, what did Loki think he was doing to you now? The urge to laugh was cut off by a moan when he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

"It was all I could think about, getting your mouth back on my skin. I thought of that a great deal, your lips on my chest, around my cock." Your eyes snapped open. Your tongue suddenly felt heavy in your mouth. Loki chuckled. "Such a sweet blush. I suppose you've never done that before. No matter. I'm a thorough teacher. And you would look exquisite on your knees." Your brain stopped at the image that conjured. Naked, kneeling on the floor in front of him, his hands fisted in your hair, a look of pleasure fixed on his face. Yes, please.

"Think it over, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear. "Give the idea all the thorough imagining I know you can. We'll come back to it another time. For now…"

Loki's hand slid between your legs and you jolted as he rubbed his fingers against you. They slid between folds, too light to be anything other than teasing. You gasped and clutched at his shoulders.

"Yes?" Loki asked. His fingers paused at your entrance, so close to what you wanted, but refusing to give it to you.

"Yes," you said, "Yes, please."

"Please what?"

"Please touch me."

"I am touching you."

"No, I—" you moaned as he circled your clit with his thumb. Why? Why was he tormenting you like this? "I want—please—"

"I know what you want, sweetheart," he said, "but you have to ask for it."

You shuddered, embarrassment climbing up your cheeks. Stars, why was he so insufferable? "I want your fingers inside me."

"Good girl." Loki pushed one finger inside and you gave a soft cry. He covered your mouth with his and a second finger joined the first before you had time to adjust. You keened as he found somewhere inside you that made you see sparks. Once he did, he was relentless—driving you steadily toward release, then backing off and leaving you aching.

Loki laughed softly and nuzzled your temple. "If I made you scream from these heights," he whispered in your ear, "all of Asgard would hear."

Loki's words may as well have doused you in cold water. You hadn't realized how loud you'd been. But you had been loud, vocally proclaiming every move Loki made inside you. The thought filled you with panic—everyone hearing you, everyone knowing. You stiffened, tried to squirm away from him, but you pushed against his arms in vain.

"Easy," Loki said. "Easy, little one." He held you in place with one hand around the back of your neck, the other still firmly planted inside you. "Just because I can, doesn't mean I will. We can be quiet."

Loki took up the rhythm again, stroking, circling, driving you absolutely mad. You buried your face against his neck, pressing your lips to his skin to muffle the whines and whimpers that came with every move of his fingers. You clung to him, one hand tangled in his hair, the other dug into the skin of his shoulders. "Loki, please," you panted. "Please, I—"

"Hush now, it's alright. I've got you." Loki's thumb pressed harder on your clit and you bit his shoulder to keep from shouting. "Good girl, that's it." His hand rubbed soothing lines over your back even as his fingers wound you higher and higher. Tears pricked at the edges of your eyes. You were so close, so close, and, stars, you wanted it—wanted him. "It's alright, darling. You can let go. I'll be here to keep you from falling."

You shuddered against Loki, choking back the cry that welled up in your chest. The pleasure of your climax and the agony of forcing yourself to be silent went to war, tearing you apart. You gasped and panted against Loki's shoulder, clutching at him with shaking hands. All the while, his soothing voice swirled around you. When the aftershocks abated, you sagged against him, body spent and loose.

Loki hummed and removed his fingers, then wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tighter against his chest. "Such a good girl for me. So responsive. So gorgeous when you fall apart." He retreated to the far side of the bath, taking you with him. He whispered sweet words into your hair, interweaving them with kisses.

When your brain came back from floating wherever Loki had put it, you realized that not only were you curled up on his lap, but he was most definitely hard against you, the evidence of his arousal pressing into your leg.

So, Loki hadn't… Well, of course not. You hadn't done anything for him. Did—did he want you to…? He must, right? It was only fair. You trailed your hands down his sides.

"Hands to yourself, pet," Loki said sharply, bringing you to an abrupt stop.

You sat back to face him. "But—"

"No arguments," Loki said. "When I want your attentions, I will tell you." You opened your mouth to press the issue further, but snapped it shut again at the stern look on his face. Loki smiled as you swallowed your words. "Good girl." He stroked his fingers through your hair, then pulled your face to his to place a kiss over each of your eyes and at the corners of your mouth. It was such a silly gesture, so simple and affectionate that something melted inside you. You relaxed into his arms and laid your head against his chest, letting him hold you against the cold.

After a while (during which he hummed the melody of a song you didn't know), Loki stood, pulling you from the water. You gasped in the sudden cold. He stepped out and offered his hand to you. "Time to go, pet."

You realized that you were naked and Loki was looking at you—exactly the situation you had tried to avoid from the outset-and heat flushed over you, but, stars, what was the point? Given how thoroughly he had explored you inside and out, what difference did seeing make? You climbed out and Loki wrapped you in a fluffy towel. He took the time to adjust it, making sure that he buffed you dry from head to toe before he took one for himself.

You huddled in your towel and watched as Loki dressed, smooth and efficient like everything else he did. When he was done, he turned to you. "Sleep well, little one," he said, then pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. Then he opened the door and was gone.

You stood out there a moment longer, dumbfounded and oddly warmed through by the affection, before you once again shivered in the cold and hurried into your clothes and back inside.

Chapter Text

This was such a bad idea.

You told yourself that a dozen times on the path through the palace from your room to Loki's suite. Then you told yourself it again half a dozen more as you paced a tight circle in front of his door.

What exactly did you think you were going to accomplish here? Sure, you were hoping to regain some dignity, have some of your own power over Loki when every encounter thus far had left him the victor. But you had never known Loki to let someone take advantage of him. Maybe if you could keep him from talking… since that seemed to be what always got you in trouble. Once he spoke, his words went in one ear and your reason went right out of the other. How were you supposed to still his silver tongue?

An image of Loki with a cloth tied around his mouth surfaced and you flushed from temple to toenail. No. No, definitely not. If you took away his voice, he'd just seduce you with his eyes.

It would help if you knew what Loki wanted, but he seemed to have all the advantages in a game where you didn't know the rules. Your goals were simple enough: satisfy your curiosity, satisfy him, then stay as far from him as you possibly could until he lost interest.

Right, so that was the plan. Seduce Loki. How hard could it be? He had done it to you plenty.

You raised your hand to knock, hesitated, raised it again, and finally rapped your knuckles against the door. You listened to the hollow echo fade, then tried again. No answer. You huffed. Well, that had been a waste of energy and anxiety. All your worry and Loki wasn't even there.

You turned to go, but before you took more than ten steps, you heard the unmistakable sound of a door opening.

What in the heavens—? You crept back. The door stood ajar just an inch, but far enough that you could see inside. You steadied your hand against the wood and it swung further open at the lightest brush of your fingers, widening enough for you to pass through.

Oh, this was a bad idea… You slipped inside, your curiosity driving you forward and Loki's absence emboldening you. If he had gotten to see your rooms, why shouldn't you see his?

The room opened before you and you spun to take in the sight. You'd never been in one of the royal's residences before. The sheer size was astounding. Arched ceilings reached far overhead. Silver and gold glinted in the firelight, casting shadows and reflections over each other in a beautiful display. Lush fabrics draped from the walls, rich greens and shimmering golds. You ran your hand over the thick wood of a desk as you passed.

A doorway led into another room, which was dominated by a massive bed. The lighting in here was soft. Rather than the impressive display you'd just seen, it was understated, intimate. You ran your fingers over the green spread on the bed. It was soft to the touch, silky. Four sturdy posts framed the bed, reaching up to the ceiling.

"My, aren't you a curious little creature?"

Your heart froze in your chest. A chilling calm had replaced the normal amusement in Loki's voice. You turned to face him, placing your hands behind your back like a child caught with something forbidden.

Loki stood in the doorway, regarding you through narrowed eyes. When he came closer, you took an instinctive step back. You came up against the bed and startled, unable to retreat further as he approached. "I could have you punished for this," he said, ice dripping from the words. "I could expose your actions in front of Odin and all of Asgard." He stood in front of you, close enough to touch. But he didn't reach out, didn't close the last few inches separating him from you. "Imagine," he said, "Thor's betrothed, found sneaking into my chambers. What a terrible scandal that would be." You stared up at him, eyes wide with fear. Please, no. Please not that. You had only wanted to look around. "Find your tongue," Loki said, "or I'll find it for you."

Your mouth seemed to come unstuck. "I'm sorry," you said. It was the first (and only) thing that came to mind.

"A noble start, but hardly enough."

What else did Loki want? You had no excuses. After all, you'd come here to bed him and that wasn't exactly an honorable pursuit on its own. Seduction… You knew Loki wanted you. If… if you could divert him… well, that was your goal, wasn't it? "I can please you," you said. The words tripped on your tongue, your voice coming out shaky instead of sultry.

The corners of Loki's mouth twitched, like he thought to smile, but suppressed it. Apparently, your attempt at sexiness amused him. "Could you now? How do you intend to do that?"

You swallowed. "There were things that you said you wanted. I—I can…" you trailed off, praying Loki wouldn't make you say it aloud. He didn't respond, merely raised an eyebrow at you. You gulped. Well, there was one thing he had been very explicit about. You sank to your knees.

Loki's eyes widened, then he laughed. The sound startled you, shaking your already frayed nerves. "No, darling, not this time." He gripped your upper arm in his hand, lifting you from the floor. The humor and friendliness had resumed its normal place in his expression. "Poor kitten. Were you frightened?" He stroked your hair away from your face. "You should know better than to sneak into other people's rooms. Especially mine. Hasn't anyone told you? I'm horribly cruel." He gave you a soft push toward the door. "Off you go, unless you're still planning to—what was it?—'please me'."

 Your feet stuck to the floor. "Yes," you blurted. Loki turned back to you, subtle surprise written in his features. "I want to," you said.

Loki approached, one foot set carefully in front of the other until he halted in front of you. "Is that so?"

"Yes, I can… I'll—" you stopped, unable to think of what came next.  

Loki leaned forward to whisper in your ear. "If you're trying to please me, perhaps you should ask what I want."

"I—" You bit your lower lip. "What do you want?"

"Good girl." When he stepped back, his eyes were sparkling. "Let your hair loose."

Your eyebrows pulled together. What sort of request was that? Still, you reached behind your head to pull out the pins that kept it in place, letting the strands fall around your neck and shoulders. You combed your fingers through a few times to minimize the bumps you knew would have appeared throughout the day. There wasn't much to be done for it. Loki would have to settle for mussed hair.

When you looked back to Loki, his eyes didn’t say that he was settling for anything. They were practically aglow. His attention took your breath away. "Take off your clothes," he said.

You thought to protest, deep-seated modesty rearing its head, but you squashed the impulse. You'd said you wanted to please Loki. Stars knew it wasn't anything he hadn't seen the other night. Still, your hands shook as you undid the clasps, first over your left shoulder, then your right. It wasn't a horribly complicated dress, one of your simpler everyday gowns (stars… should you have worn something fancier? Did you look stupid coming to seduce Loki in something you wore every other week?). The dress slid down your body, catching slightly at the curve of your hips, then puddled around your feet. Loki took a step forward, looked you over from top to bottom, then circled around you, taking his time to see you from all sides. You felt his eyes on you and fought the instinct to shrink away.

He circled back in front of you and stopped, eyes tracing over your form once again. "Stunning." He waved his hand as if dismissing you. "On the bed, pet."

You heart thumped. You did as told and stepped out of your dress to sit on the foot of the bed. Every muscle in your body seemed tightly coiled. What was he planning to do with you? Surely… surely he had something specific in mind. He hadn't wanted you to kneel.

No, darling, not this time.

That meant he was planning to get his satisfaction from you another way. You shivered at the memory, though the room was warm. You clasped your hands in your lap to stop them from shaking. Stars, you were quivering and he hadn't even touched you yet.

Loki set one knee on the bed at your side and loomed over you. He placed a hand between your breasts and pushed you backward so you laid flat against the sheets, pinned by the warm weight centered in your chest. His fingers combed through your hair, setting it like a halo around your head. He ran his hands down your arms—shoulders to wrists—and detangled your fingers from each other, then stretched your arms over your head. "Your hands stay here," he said, "right where I put them until I say otherwise. Yes?"

"Yes," you breathed.

"Good girl." He stepped back, admiring, and gave a satisfied hum. "Such a strange feeling, to have something I'd pictured so clearly in my mind actually in front of me."

Was that true? That he'd thought of you like this, naked and stretched across his bed? Your heart raced. Of course… He'd said as much, that he wanted to see your skin against his sheets. The thought made you tingle all over.

"Now, pet," he said, drawing your attention back to him, "do you know why I was angry with you?"

A flush crept over your cheeks. "Because I was in your room."

"No." His hand settled over your thigh, his thumb brushing back and forth. "I very much enjoy seeing you in my room. I wanted to have you right where you are now. It was not your presence that offended me. Try again."

"I—" Your teeth scraped over your lip. You couldn't think with his fingers brushing up and down the inside of your thigh. "Because you weren't here."

"Closer," he said, even as his fingers edged nearer to your core. "But not quite. Try again."

You closed your eyes against the wave of want that swept through you. "Because you didn't tell me I could."

"Good girl." You moaned as he pushed one finger into you. "So what have you learned?" He pulled his finger out again, smoothed the warm wetness over your folds. You gasped and bucked against his grip. "Answer me, pet. What have you learned about doing things without my permission?"

"That I shouldn't," you said, managing to gasp out the words.

He removed his hand. "Lessons are meant to be learned, pet," he said. "We'll see if you have learned yours." Before you could guess what he meant by that, he pushed your knees apart and knelt between them, baring you to him. His tongue stroked up your entrance and you cried out.

Your first instinct was to touch him, either to push him away or pull him closer, you didn't know. Your arms actually started to move before you remembered.

Your hands stay where I put them.

You tangled your fingers in the sheets to anchor yourself. Loki never relented, his tongue swirling over you. Two fingers slid back inside you, stroking you higher. You writhed against the bed, unable to stop from arching your back. But you couldn't go anywhere. His other hand held your hips firmly in place, leaving you at his mercy, absolutely helpless as he ravaged you.

Words poured from your mouth—cries, pleas, prayers—until you weren't sure what you were saying anymore. Everything revolved around Loki and what his hands and lips and tongue were doing to you. You coiled tighter, muscles clenching, begging for release. Stars… you were right there and—

Loki pulled away. You whined at the loss.

"What did I say, pet, about doing things without permission?"

Oh, sun and moon and all the heavens, he even meant that? "Please," you said. "Please, I'll be good."

Loki stroked his hand down you calf, circling your ankle with his fingers. He nuzzled at the inside of your thigh, pressing a kiss against the skin. "Of course you will, sweetheart." He dove back in.  

Loki took you right to the edge. You tensed every muscle you had, trying anything to stop the wave of pleasure that you felt building. He didn't relent even when you could no longer beg him through your ragged, gasping breaths. Stars… this man would be the death of you.  How long he continued, you didn't know. But you were a sweaty puddle, only capable of whining, when he finally uttered the words that set you free.

Your world shattered.

When you came back to awareness, Loki had curled around you on the bed with your back pressed against his chest. You moaned and stretched and he nipped at your shoulder.

"How are you, pet?"

"I—" You thought about it—the subtle ache between your legs, the soreness in your muscles, the loose, relaxed feeling through your body—and smiled. "Amazing." You turned in Loki's arms so you could see him, then took his face in your hands. "Thank you." A flash of surprise crossed his eyes and for a second, he seemed almost vulnerable, but just as quickly it was gone. "What about you?" you asked. "What do you want me to do?"

Loki chuckled. "Haven't you already asked me that question tonight? Or are you hoping for an encore?"

You frowned at him. "That's not what I meant."

Loki tucked your head under his chin and pulled you more fully against his chest. You sulked in his embrace. He was being stubborn for some reason, refusing to let you touch him. You were inexperienced and he knew that. Was that the problem? Did he not think you'd be good enough? It was insulting really.

"I can feel you thinking, little one," he said. "What about?"

You huffed and pushed at the wall of his chest. Loki didn't let go of you completely, but allowed you to pull away enough to see his face. "What's wrong with you? Why hold out?"

Loki rubbed his hand over your back, reminding you that you were naked while he remained fully clothed. "Promises are promises and I'm a man of my word"—he frowned, seeming to consider the statement—"when I feel like it," he added with a wicked smile. "I already told you what I want, love, and I intend to get it."

You puzzled it over. Loki had already told you? But when? Then you remembered his words when you had summoned him to your room.

I'll wait until you beg me to take you.

Your mouth dropped open. "I'm not going to beg you."

Loki laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You begged me for all kinds of things tonight," he said, lips brushing your skin with every word. "Or have you already forgotten?"

You burned at the thought of everything you'd said while Loki ravished you. "This is different," you insisted. "I won't do it." Your temper burned inside of you, lighting from the heat of embarrassment. You huffed. "If anything, you'll be begging me."

Loki grinned. "You're sure?" he said, the words tickling over your ear. "You're certain that you can best me? I'd like to see you try. Let's make a game of it, shall we?"

Oh no. Oh stars. Oh no.

How could you be so stupid?

Chapter Text

You and your stupid pride.

What were you thinking, challenging Loki like that? No matter how much the idea of begging him pricked at your pride, you should have known better than to needle back. No one played games with Loki. No one. Because Loki always won. The smart thing to do would be to concede defeat immediately, before he had a chance to humiliate you. No. The smart thing to do would be to stop your involvement with him altogether. It's what you should have done from the beginning.

And yet…

Stubbornness ran through you bone deep. So what if Loki had all the advantages? You weren't facing defeat without a fight. If you didn't have experience, the next best thing was knowledge. You sat in the library, a stack of books at your side. You'd abandoned your favorite table for a more secluded spot, not wanting to be disturbed, by Loki or anyone else. Your only companion today was the library cat, a soft, black thing that would rather sleep in your lap than catch mice. You had research to do. Books, you had long believed, held all the answers, if only you were patient enough to look for them.

You chewed at your nail, eyebrows pulled together in concentration. The library felt warmer than normal… or maybe that was just your body's reaction to the material before you. The books were explicitly detailed—sometimes with pictures. The myriad ways that human bodies could join was dizzying. The book described every combination of lips and tongues and fingers and openings imaginable. Had people really tried all these things? Some of them didn't even seem physically possible. How the heavens were you supposed to do that without an extra hand?

Oh.

So… some of these required more than two participants. Stars…

"What are you reading?"

You jumped—having been so absorbed in the book that you were oblivious to your surroundings—and the cat leapt from your lap with a hiss. You had no warning of Loki's approach until he snatched the book from your hands.

You lunged for it, desperate to keep the book from him. Loki sidestepped you easily and instead whirled you under his arm to hold you snuggly against his chest. You squirmed in his grasp, trying to escape, but he made no indication that he felt your struggle, instead studying your book, which he still held in his other hand.

"I had no idea your studies were so thorough." Loki wrapped his other arm around you as well, holding the book in front of you both and keeping you securely from slipping away. "Tell me, pet," he said as he flipped a few pages, "was there anything in particular that caught your eye?" Humiliation swept through you. You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. "No?" he asked. "Then shall we start at the beginning and work our way through?" You gripped his arm where he still held you fast, your nails digging into the skin. Loki, however, continued as if he didn’t notice. "Look, love," he said. "You would like this one." Your eyes opened. The image in the book showed a figure bent forward on hands and knees, another behind them holding them in place by their hips. Your knees went weak as heat pooled in your body. Loki's soft laugh brushed over your cheek. "I thought so." He nuzzled at your temple and whispered his next words in your ear. "If you want something, pet, you know all you have to do is ask me." His voice coiled over you like a caress, winding over your skin and weaving its way inside you. His lips skimmed over the place where your neck met your shoulder. "Is that so hard? Am I so terrible for insisting?" His free hand slipped over your thigh, crumpling the fabric of your dress in his fingers. Your mind fuzzed over, lulled by visions of the two of you entwined. Why was it that you were fighting him again? "I want to give you everything you desire. You need only tell me where to start. Just ask me, sweet. Say the words." Would it be so bad? A moment's humiliation, then everything you wanted… "I can end your torment. All you have to do is say 'please'."

With a monumental effort, you clawed your way out from the trance he'd spun around you with his voice and touch. "No," you said. The word rang through the library, echoing across bookshelves and carrying much farther than you'd intended. You shoved Loki away, turning to him with a glare. You were not going to be manipulated by his presence this time. This time… this time you were going to keep your control. You straightened your spine and raised you chin, bringing yourself to your full height, though it was nothing impressive compared to his. "No, I won't," you reiterated. Then, because you felt suddenly bolder, you added the words he'd used on you so many times. "Try again."

Loki watched you with electric delight. "Well, look at you." His eyes raked over you in appreciative assessment. "You're every bit the queen you were born to be. It suits you." He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Should I be taking you more seriously, pet? It seems you're determined to make this game a challenge for me. Alright." He handed your book back to you and brushed past, stopping to say in your ear, "Do your best to bring me to my knees, love. You won't succeed. I look forward to claiming my victory."

You melted at the thought.

#

"I'd like to take my evening meal in my room, please," you said to one of the maids when you caught her outside your room.

Her eyebrows pulled together. "Are you not feeling well? I can call a doctor."

"No, I just—" You paused and smiled, regaining your composure. "I just want to be alone for the evening. Thank you."

She nodded and scurried off. How could you tell her the truth? That you were afraid to face Loki because you were chest deep in a bet over who could seduce the other first? You burned at the thought. The idea of facing him over dinner, no matter how many others were in attendance, terrified you. You'd rather go into the throne room naked—you would feel less exposed. It was just that… he always seemed as if he was looking straight through you, right to your very center, like he knew your every thought.

When the maid brought by your food, a familiar black streak accompanied it into the room. The library cat wove through her legs and jumped onto your couch before she could stop it.

"I'm sorry, my lady," she said, still struggling with the tray. "I'll have him out in a second."

"It's alright," you said, taking the tray from her. "He's welcome here for a little while. Thank you."

She gave a grateful nod and retreated. You brought the tray to the table by the couch and curled up against the cushions, retrieving your place in your book. You perused its pages as you picked at your meal, stopping here and there to offer a tidbit of meat to the cat that purred in your lap. Without Loki's distraction, your research was far more productive. You even managed to set aside your embarrassment to make a list of things he might like—things that might drive him crazy enough for him to lose his guard.

As the last of the evening light faded, you stood and stretched, satisfied with your progress. The cat had long ago moved to the bed, curled in a ball on your pillow, watching you with luminous yellow eyes. You snuffed the lamps so the only illumination came from the moonlight through your curtains and climbed under your blanket to fight the chill.

"Move, kitty," you said, shooing him from your pillow. He didn't retreat far, settling onto your stomach once you'd lain down. You absently scratched between his ears and stared up at the ceiling.

There were things that you knew Loki liked. He liked to watch you—your 'shows' he'd called them. He liked a tinge of pain—scratches and bites, your fingers tugging his hair—and was immensely pleased when you left marks.

Then there were things Loki loved. He loved to talk. He spoke to you through every touch, lavishing you with sweet whispered praise. The first time, when he made you take all the initiative, he'd loved that. He'd basked in your attention. And when you'd asked if he wanted anything… that was the nearest you'd seen to him losing his carefully calculated control.

And, of course, he loved to be in charge. He wanted you to ask and plead and wait for permission. It was almost as if his ego were more involved than his body. But that wouldn't work for your purpose. You couldn't play into his ego if it gave him all the power.

Something nagged at the side of your mind, like you had the answer, but you hadn't put it together yet. You slipped into an uneasy sleep.

#

You woke disoriented. It was still dark out, so it must have been the middle of the night. When you tried to roll over, something large and warm and heavy pinned you in place. The smell of trees and rain swirled around you.

Loki.

You thrashed and wiggled your way out from under the sheets and blankets and tumbled out onto the cold floor with a whumph. Loki groaned and sat up at a more leisurely pace. The sheet fell from him and you realized with a pang of wanting that he wasn't wearing anything. He blinked in the dimness and the barest of smirks crossed his lips when his eyes landed on you.

"What are you doing here?" you hissed, heart still racing from your abrupt awakening.

Loki stretched and your eyes traced the movement. "I had thought of keeping you up late, but you were far more comfortable than I'd expected. I decided that I would wake you in the morning instead." He scowled. "You've ruined my plans, pet."

"I don't care about that," you said. "How did you get in here?" He had come before, but that had been when you'd called for him.

"You should really be more careful about who you let into your room," Loki said. His eyes flashed yellow. Was that a trick of the moonlight or…

You mouth dropped open. "The cat?" You grabbed a pillow from your bed and whacked him across the shoulder with it. "What sort of monster sneaks into someone's room as a cat?"

Loki laughed and snatched the pillow from you, arresting your assault with his hands around your wrists. He pulled you onto his lap. "Come now, love, let's not fight. You spent most of the evening compiling a lovely wish list and I am eager to mark off items."

Your eyes went wide. He'd seen everything—everything—that you'd put down. All your notes and thoughts and plans, he already knew them all. Your temper unraveled. "You cheated!" you cried, shoving him backward. "You complete and utter ass." You straddled over his hips, not sure what your plan was exactly, but needing to feel you had the upper hand.

You tangled your fingers in Loki's hair and pulled hard enough to make him gasp. The motion bared his neck and you took the opportunity that offered. You licked and sucked and scraped with your teeth, listening to the groans and gasps that you elicited. One of his hands went to your waist, fingers digging in, the other went to the back of your head, pressing you closer. You felt him harden between your legs, still separated by the sheets and your clothing

When you sat back to admire your handiwork, Loki surged upward, taking your face in his hands and crushing his lips against yours. His tongue forced its way past your lips and plundered your mouth, demanding your response. When you were thoroughly breathless, he pulled back. His eyes shone. "You're lovely when you're shy, kitten, but you've been magnificent today. I should make you angry with me more often."

"I'm always angry with you," you shot back. "You're insufferable."

"Lies, lies, lies," Loki said. "They spill from your lips like wine." His eyes flickered down to look at your mouth, as if imagining the taste.

Stars, must he have an answer to everything? He never stopped talking. The way this was going, he'd talk himself right around your defenses again. You shoved him back down and muffled his mouth with your own, warring for dominance. You raked a stripe of scratches down his chest with your fingernails. His hands tightened against your sides, pressing you harder against him. You swiveled your hips over his.

"Yes, darling," he said. "Do that again."

"No." You weren't taking orders or instructions this time. No waiting for permission.

He laughed. "Little spitfire." He pushed you sideways and rolled with you, trapping you under him. You gasped at the sudden reversal. The sheets tangled around you both, holding you together, but still separating you. He ground his hips into you, reminding you of the pleasure you were denying yourself. All you had to do was ask. But, damn it, you were going to make him beg first. You wouldn't be the only one who was left wanting in this game. He squeezed your breast through your shift and you moaned. "What are you planning, pet?" he asked. "To disobey me so, you must have something in mind."

"Let me touch you," you said. "I know you want me to."

"Only if you're a good girl and do as you're told."

Not likely. "Let me touch you first and I'll think about doing what you want." You wrapped your legs around his hips (stars, what would the maids think if they saw your tangled sheets?) and he moaned, hips thrusting uselessly. His erection pressed against you through the cloth and you let your head fall back. "Stars, you're fantastic."

His breath caught. His motions stuttered.

Everything clicked into place in your mind. His constant praise, the way he'd preened under your admiration of his body. That was it.

"You like that?" you asked, practically a purr.

"Hush, little one."

Oh, he wasn't fooling you. You had him. "I love your body. It looks amazing against mine." As soon as you started, the words came out of you in a rush, like you'd held them all back. Praise and compliments, anything and everything that you had ever thought of—could think of—that you admired about him. The way he looked, the way he acted, how he drove you mad. You went into the filthiest, most explicit detail, saying things that would make you blush under any other circumstance, but that you couldn't hold back when he shivered and gasped over you. He groaned and gritted his teeth, hips still thrusting against you, so close to what you both wanted, both of you too stubborn to let it happen. His breathing became ragged. His head dropped to your shoulder, arms holding himself off you, hips moving to a rhythm that you matched. You scraped your nails over his ribs and he moaned against your shoulder.

"Why are you doing this to me, kitten?" he rasped. He pressed his mouth against your neck, interweaving the words with bites and licks. "Why draw out our agony? You know what I want you to do."

You circled your hands around his back. You didn't answer his question, but ran your nails down his spine, scraped your teeth over his shoulder, and told him again how wonderful he made you feel.

He huffed in frustration. "Beg, damn it."

It was remarkable how in control you felt. Even with his motions pushing you higher (because, stars, you were not lying about how good he made you feel), you could still keep your head enough to focus on driving him crazy. You bit the edge of his ear. "You beg."

What came next was a feral growl. "Just ask me, woman, so I can fuck you into the floor."

Threats, threats… all of them empty "You have to ask for what you want, Loki."

He cursed, clenched, and shuddered, his arms tightening around you almost painfully. His cry against your shoulder washed over you in a wave of pride and pleasure.

He collapsed on top of you, breathing hard. A fine sheen of sweat shone on his back. You snickered a little as you ran your fingers through it.

Loki nipped at your shoulder. "Stubborn, unbearable woman."

You hummed and nuzzled at his neck. "You loved it."

He rolled onto his back, taking you with him and fully trapping the both of you in the sheets like a cocoon. He sighed and laid his head back, hands stroking down your sides. "I'll punish you for it later, little one." He kissed the top of your head, wrapped you firmly in his arms and settled back down to sleep.

Chapter Text

You may have created a monster.

You sat at your favorite table in the library, the one near the massive pane windows that overlooked the gardens. During the spring, you could see the trees bloom. In the summer, you watched the birds flit through the branches. Fall brought the change of the leaves and the crackle and rustle as they fell. And now, in the winter, snow and ice glinted from bare branches as if diamonds coated the bark. Bookshelves backed it, blocking you from view and hemming you in with a cozy wall of old friends. The chair was smooth, the cushion worn, but not too soft. Here, you were perfectly positioned so that the sun fell across you during the afternoon, but never glared directly in your eyes. It was a lovely table and normally just sitting there brought you a sense of peace, like all was right with the world. Not today though. Today, it had been invaded.

"Why are you here?" you asked, finally breaking down and acknowledging Loki's presence in your space. He had sat on the other side of the table for the better part of the morning, chin propped in his hand, watching you.

"Do you wish me to leave?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Pity." Loki stretched, a long flex of muscle that made your mouth go dry. He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, still looking at you with an appraiser's eye.

"You're not even reading," you said. "You're just staring at me."

"I'm admiring the contrast."

"What contrast?" you asked, peeved and trying to go back to your book (a history of Asgardian architecture).

"Between this demure woman hiding behind her books and the wicked vixen who so ruthlessly used me a few nights ago."

You burned. Of course Loki would bring that up. "You snuck into my room as a cat with nothing but indecent intentions."

Loki smiled. "True. My intentions were entirely indecent. And I still have them, since you thwarted my plans. I'm rather vexed with you for that."

You rolled your eyes. Loki looked about as vexed as a cat with a bowl of cream in one paw and a canary in the other. "You loved every second of it."

"As did you. Which brings me to my lingering question." Loki reached across the table and pulled your book away. He took your fingers into his, absently running over your knuckles with his thumb. "Why is so much passion locked away, gathering dust here with all these books?"

"I'm not gathering dust." You snatched your hands back. "And I'm not locked anywhere. I want to be here."

Loki looked away toward the window. For a moment, it seemed he would return to quiet reflection, but then he sighed.  "Come with me," he said, standing and offering his hand to you.

You looked at his hand, skeptical. "Why?"

"Just come."

"No."

Loki pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I get the feeling, love, that you still don't completely trust me."

"I don't trust you at all."

"That's probably wise." He grabbed your arm and pulled you from your chair. "Come along."

You stumbled after him, his pace too brisk and his grip on your arm too strong for you get your feet under you properly. "Where are we going?"

"The gardens." Loki didn't look at you as he spoke, his attention fully on his path ahead. He opened a door that led to the outside and pushed you through in front of him.

"It's cold," you protested.

"It's lovely," he said dismissively, taking hold of you again.

Loki led you through a maze of bushes and trees until you weren't sure anymore where in the gardens you were. An alcove sheltered a stone bench. In the summer, it would be covered in full vines of climbing flowers, but now only icicles grew on the awning.

Loki sat on the bench and pulled you onto his lap. He threw his cloak over the both of you, covering you in his warmth and scent. The cloak was soft to the touch, plush and warm from his body. He shifted and tucked your legs up over his knees so that he supported your whole weight. He wrapped his arms more firmly around you, ensuring that escape would be at least difficult, if not impossible.

"See?" he said. "Lovely."

And, well… it was. Nice. Cozy. The alcove shielded you from the wind and Loki's heat combined with your own in the insulation of the cloak to keep out the biting cold. For a stretch of time, there was only silence as you watched the garden. The ice and snow shimmered in the sunlight. A blue-throated bird flitted from branch to branch, chirping. A fountain stood sentry in a circle of evergreen bushes. The water ran—a soft gurgle—but had frozen some at the edges, leaving icicles over the side of the stone. It was quiet, no chatter or laughter, which was difficult to achieve in a palace. It felt as if you'd been placed on another world. Despite yourself, your body relaxed into his embrace.

"I like the winter," you said. "It's comfortable. Everything gets slow and sleepy. There are warm fires and warm foods and warm clothes." You realized that Loki was staring at you and the words shriveled on your tongue. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You have a lovely mind; I like to hear you voice it." He shifted his grip, running his fingers down your arm. "Still, silence suits you." His hand emerged briefly from the safety of the cloak to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. "You're comfortable to leave the world as it is around you; you don't feel the need to pollute it with endless chatter. I like that sort of quiet, like snow falling or the way the world holds its breath just before the sun rises. It's the same sort of silence that the stars have. Soft silence."

You watched him say those words, your eyes never leaving his lips. The way that you were positioned, his face was only inches from yours. His words, spoken just loud enough for you to hear, felt like a whispered secret. No one had ever said anything like that to you before. Somehow thanking him for his thoughts didn't seem appropriate. Or adequate. And… Well…

You kissed him. It was soft, a gentle press of your lips against his. Your eyes slipped closed and you flattened yourself to him. It felt like invisible thread stitched your soul to his, like you shared a mind. It was a slow, easy slide into a place where there were no challenges or consequences, where everything was just as warm and comfortable as the inside of his cloak. He held you in his arms, supporting you with his steady embrace and you'd never felt so safe, so… kept, in your entire life.

You pulled back to take a shaky breath. Your mind came fully back to the front when the full weight of his gaze rested on you.

"I'm sorry," you said, tensing and pulling away. Why did you always lose your mind when you were near him? "I shouldn't have—"

"Hush," he said. His arms held you fast, but not painfully. "You're alright, love." His nose rubbed along yours, a slow, quiet reassurance. "You're such a precious little thing. So sweet, kissing me like that. Do it again."

Your heart thumped against your ribs. "I—"

"It's just us out here, darling." His hand smoothed up your side. "We have all the time in the world."

You shouldn't. You knew that. But his lips were so close, his eyes so intensely green, his skin so warm. Kissing him felt like drinking mulled wine by the fire, like warm blankets and whispered words. You did it again.

Compared to every other kiss with Loki (a long and lengthening list now), it started small. Your mouth brushed over his, unhurried. His hands smoothed soothing strokes over your body. It was sweet and slow, but a more powerful need built in you. You shifted, getting leverage to press the kiss deeper. Your tongue flicked out over his lips experimentally and he opened up for you. Your hands went to his chest, wanting to feel his skin under your fingers, but his clothing was in the way.

"I want you to touch me now, pet," Loki said, stirring you from the blissful haze into which you'd fallen. His hand slid under the skirt of your dress and up your leg.

You jerked in his arms. "Someone will see us."

"No one will see us." He rested your foreheads together, mingling his breath with yours. "And if they did, they would think nothing of it. A couple sitting on a bench… what is there to think? It's alright."

Your heart hammered against your chest and your hands shook as you followed the line of his body to his pants. Stars, you were burning. Loki's hand stroked up and down your thigh, filling your mind with static. He whispered against your ear, soothing words and reassurances. He wasn't holding you trapped anymore. His grasp was comforting, but not confining. You could leave, step back from him and leave the confines of the cloak if you wanted. You didn't.

At the first brush of your fingers over the front of his pants, his eyes slipped closed. He nuzzled at your neck. You pressed harder and he gave a pleased hum. Stars, you could feel him hardening further under your attentions.

"You wanted to touch me the other night," he said, the words heavy in your ear like he'd mixed them with honey. "And I've wondered since what exactly you planned to do. You had me at your mercy—but you already knew that, didn't you?" He took your hand in his and pressed your palm against him, rubbing your hand more firmly against the hard length in his pants. "I imagined you doing this. You have lovely hands. I've seen how well you use them on yourself and I wanted to see what you could do with me."

"Please," you said, the word slipping out before you'd even consciously thought to say it.

He smiled. "What do you want, sweetheart?"

I want to drive you mad. I want to make you think of me the way I think of you. I want to have everything you've ever whispered to me and all you've done for anyone else. You swallowed those thoughts. You couldn't say that to him. And in their absence, you felt a woeful inadequacy to explain. You licked your lips. "More," you said.

"Then you shall have it."

He undid the front of his pants and pulled himself out, heavy and hard. His hand closed your fingers over him and slowly moved it up and down along the shaft. You took the rhythm up on your own. Loki took a slow breath and his eyes drifted down once again. His hands returned to your sides, flexing and holding you closer.

Oh.

So gorgeous when you come undone.

That's what he had said the night in the baths and you suddenly understood the feeling. His expression… with his eyes closed and brow furrowed, he was the most handsome thing you'd ever seen. It was like being the center of his world. Knowing that you were the reason that he felt this way filled you with a satisfaction you didn't know existed. It made you feel shiny, inside and out. You couldn't take your eyes off him, watching every flicker of expression as you explored.

And it was an exploration. You took the same care that you had when you'd perused his body that first night in your room, finding where he liked to be touched and how. Every hitch of his breathing, every tensing of his jaw, was carefully catalogued in your mind. You brought your other hand to join the first and ran your palm over the head of his cock. Loki stopped breathing for a moment. Under you, his body clenched.

His eyes opened and he blinked a few times, seemingly surprised to find you watching him so intently. "Do you like this, darling?" he asked, breathier than usual. "Knowing how you make me feel?" You pulled your lip between your teeth. Loki bumped his nose against yours. "Answer me, pet."

"Yes," you said, "but—" you cut yourself off, biting our lip.

"Something else? What is it?"

"I want to please you." It was a hushed admission.

"You already are."

"No. I mean, yes… but—" You have to ask for what you want.  You took a deep breath and regarded him seriously. "I want to make you come. What should I do?"

Loki looked shocked, then visibly repressed a laugh. "Lovely girl. So straightforward. Keep doing what you are." His hand covered yours, urging you to a faster rhythm. "And kiss me."

That you could do. His hands returned to your waist, holding you to him. The kiss was intense, all coiled tension, like a horse kept from starting before a race. All the intensity of the moment, concentrated in the small space of the cloak and necessity for quiet, surged from him into you. He didn't make a sound, the only indication of his mounting pleasure the moments when he had to stop the kiss to take a sudden breath, when he returned with renewed ferocity. He broke away with a gasp, letting his head fall to your shoulder. Time froze like the icicles that hung overhead.

He tensed and his cock pulsed, sending wet warmth flooding over your hands. The way he came, almost silent, his hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing anchoring him to the ground, left you in awe.

He caught his breath and looked at you through long lashes, eyes clouded with something like wonder. Your heart thumped under his gaze. "You'll be the death of me yet, little one," he said and captured your mouth in a kiss again.

Chapter Text

Every once in a great, long while—when all the stars aligned in your favor and fate smiled kindly on you—an official event that required your attendance was something that you would actually enjoy.

This was one of those times.

A concert. The best musicians in Asgard gathered for a performance in celebration of Odin. Hours of music and quiet reflection, no one looking at you, no one asking anything of you. You would be allowed to simply observe and enjoy. You practically danced down the steps to the hall.

Crowds mingled in the anteroom, waiting for the musicians to prepare so they could go into the hall and take their seats. You would be seated at the front, with the royal family (as you were for every event), right between Thor and Loki. Nervous butterflies fluttered in your stomach. This would be the first event since… well, since everything. Since you'd first fantasized about Loki, since you'd called him to your room, since the many times after that you'd betrayed your engagement to Thor. You didn't worry that Loki would do anything improper—he had his own reputation to maintain, after all—but guilt was not an emotion you carried easily.

You wove through the throngs of people, sliding between the empty spaces without causing so much as a ripple in conversation. A tingle of awareness rose over the back of your neck and you turned to find Loki watching you through the crowd. Your stomach flipped. Even from this distance, you felt his gaze as if it burned through the muted silver material of your dress. Your breath caught. How was it that the people between you couldn't feel the intensity of that look? Certainly, everyone must see it? Your feet grew roots into the marble floor and there was no escape as he crossed the room to reach you. He didn't say anything, but sipped from the goblet of wine he held, eyes raking over you in a slow, thorough examination. He smiled. "You look lovely. Far too much clothing, but still."

You bit back the curse that rose on your tongue. Of course Loki would make this difficult for you. It was in his nature to brat, after all. You gritted your teeth and met his gaze with a challenge of your own. You wouldn't dare cause a scene here.

He raised an eyebrow, barely a flicker of change, but you saw the meaning clear as day. Wouldn't I?

The crowd shifted and someone bumped into Loki from behind. He pitched forward, crossing the less than arms distance between you, and the entirety of the goblet of wine poured down your dress. The crowd around you withdrew and you suddenly felt all eyes on you. You stood there, wine stained all down your front, in a moment of silence.

"Oh dear," Loki said. You stood awkwardly, wine dripping down your arms and off your fingertips. "I suppose you'll have to change." You glared at him and suppressed the urge to kick him in the shins. He was smiling—actually smiling—like the moment was mildly funny rather than grossly humiliating.

A chime sounded and all eyes turned to the auditorium entrance. It was time for people to take their seats. Loki leaned forward to whisper in your ear. "Hurry, pet. You wouldn't want to be late." With one final scathing glance at him, you hastened from the hall and up the stairs.

#

You stripped out of the dress before the door to your room even closed all the way. You threw it into a corner where it could do no more harm. By the time someone would think to wash it, the wine would have stained the cloth so thoroughly, they may as well dye it burgundy instead. It was a lost cause and, sadly, one of your favorite gowns. Damn Loki. Damn, damn, damn. Even if it was an accident, it was horribly careless. Why hadn't he just left you alone? You took a breath and set your fury aside. It was pointless. You'd take him to task for it later. There was no energy to waste on him now.

You wiped yourself with a damp cloth, just enough to clean the stick and smell of wine from your skin. There was no time to bathe again. As it was, you had just enough to make it back before the performance started. Anything further, and your entrance would make a scene.

You noticed the parcel on your bed only as a blur in the corner of your eye. You had almost walked past it when your mind registered something out of place. You stopped. Turned.

A black box with a green satin ribbon. Gold lettering on the side declared it as yours. You narrowed your eyes as you opened it. Inside, nestled among delicate paper, was a dress. Emerald green and soft to the touch. You picked up the note that rested on top.

For you, pet.

You glowered at Loki's handwriting. That sneaky rat. If he thought you would wear this simply because he got it for you, he was in for a nasty shock. You tossed the note back into the box and wrinkled your nose. You had plenty of gowns. You didn't need to play into his hands.

You stomped to your wardrobe and flung open the doors, determined to defy Loki. The closet greeted you with empty space. Nothing. Not one single garment. None of your dresses—everyday or otherwise. They were all gone. In their place was another note.

Be good, pet. Wear the dress.

For a moment, you stood in shock, staring at the empty space, your hands gripping the wardrobe doors so hard your knuckles turned white. You couldn't wear the wine stained dress, but you couldn't wear anything else either. That left you with a choice: either wear the dress that Loki had left for you or skip the concert in its entirety. The fury you'd pushed from your mind came back in full force. Damn Loki. Damn him, damn him, damn him. He would not make you miss an event you had looked forward to.

He. Would. Not.

You snatched the green dress from the box and yanked it over your body. Even more infuriating than his audacity—in spilling wine on you, in picking something for you to wear, in taking all your other clothes—was the fact that the dress actually fit well. Far too well. Like your body had been made for it and not the other way around. It was beautiful, elegant in a way that your other gowns didn't even approach. The silky fabric clung to everything and the cut was much more form fitting than you would choose. The neckline plunged lower than you'd anticipated, leaving an ample view of your normally unremarkable cleavage. It was a daring dress, proud and unafraid. Nothing at all like you, but every inch like Loki. He may as well have written his name all over your skin. You glared at your reflection in the mirror, peeved that Loki had forced you into wearing the dress and more peeved that you actually looked good in it.

At the bottom of the box, where you had previously not noticed it, lay a jeweled necklace. You placed it around your neck experimentally. The largest stone nestled directly between your breasts. You threw it back in the box with a sound of disgust. Clearly, Loki aimed for you to look alluring, but you'd go to the concert naked before you gave in to every little thing he wanted.

The chime of your clock reminded you that you didn't have time to waste on anger. You could make it, if the musicians were starting late for any reason, but it would be close. You took a fistful of the skirt in your hand and raced back down to the hall.

As you'd feared, the anteroom was empty of all but the very last stragglers. You managed to squeeze through the closing doors with an apologetic smile to the attendants (both of whom looked at you decidedly longer than was necessary). You turned to face the auditorium, ready to breathe a sigh of relief and slink quietly to your seat.

No luck.

It wasn't as if all eyes were on you, but there was definitely a ripple, a murmur as you walked up the aisle. Those closest to you paused in their conversations, turned ever so subtly to see you, then didn't look away. You were accustomed to the eyes of others sliding over you as if you were a vase or curtain—no more than a piece of the scenery. You fought to breathe, fought to keep down the blush that crept up your cheeks, fought to move your feet forward. Still, you were the one person striding up the center aisle all the way to the very first row. By the time you reached the front, you felt as if the eyes of all of Asgard followed the low backline of your dress.

Stars, if you ever got Loki alone again, you'd strangle him with the very damned dress he'd made you wear.

"My King," you said, dropping into an automatic curtsy when you reached Odin. Only when his eyes lingered decidedly lower than your face did you realize exactly the effect of the position in the gown you wore. You stood in a rush. "I apologize for my tardiness."

"Nonsense," Frigga said, taking your hand and drawing you toward her. "You're just in time."

You smiled gratefully, nodded to Thor, who seemed as unruffled as usual, and took your seat beside him. You didn't look at Loki. You would have. You would have shot him the dirtiest glare you could muster, but you didn't want to cause any more fuss. And you couldn't trust yourself not to punch him. At this point, punching a Prince of Asgard was the only possible way to draw more attention to yourself. You took a deep breath, clasped your hands in your lap, and watched the musicians take the stage. The first strains of music filled the room.

"You look ravishing," Loki whispered over your shoulder. You ignored him, instead watching the fingers of the musician closest to you as they struck chords on the stringed instrument they played. "I thought the dress would suit you," he continued, seemingly unruffled by your icy reception, "but the result is more enticing than I'd anticipated."

You could feel Loki's eyes on you, as if his fingers followed their path over your skin. "Shut up," you snapped, if only to keep away the shiver that started in your bones. The sound was barely audible, but he would be listening for any response from you.

Loki chuckled. "No matter. We’ll finish this business elsewhere."

You squeezed your hands more tightly together to keep from whacking him. No. You were better than that. You took a deep breath, lifted your chin, and rolled your shoulders back. You would not let Loki twist you around his finger this time. Another deep breath.

The music washed over you, the sound of the singer's voice drawing you forward like a lure. It was a physical presence, weighty like water. Each note struck something buried deep inside of you. You watched the musicians' fingers move over their instruments, an incredible dance of sound and rhythm. For a time, the music entranced you completely. You hardly noticed Loki or Thor at your side, much less the curious gaze of the crowd at your back. If only for a short while, everything in your world narrowed to the notes drawn forth by the artists on stage. When they took their leave, you felt their loss as if you had misplaced a part of yourself.

In the aftermath, you smiled as necessary, nodded when it was required of you. Others gave compliments and you responded in kind, but you longed to retreat to the safety of your room, to sit still and silent and relive the magic that had entranced you for the past few hours. What did you care for the cut of your dress or the style of your hair?

You made your escape as soon as you knew you wouldn't be missed, when Thor was otherwise occupied (wasn't he always?) and all eyes no longer lingered over you.

Peace waited for you in your rooms. You could strip off Loki's infernal dress and lay in the privacy of your own bed and relive every note and lyric without interruption.

You made it less than twenty yards from the crowd when a hand snagged you from the corridor. The startled squeak that escaped your throat was smothered before it could reach the air.

Loki pressed a hand over your mouth. "Quiet, pet." All your fury returned in a surge. You kicked at him, though he deftly dodged. "Darling," he said, "this behavior is hardly becoming." He pinned you between him and the pillar behind which you hid. "Be a good girl and I may give your voice back," he said. His body pressed all along yours, his eyes bored into yours. You made no movement. You hoped your eyes held your every icy intention despite the heat that stirred at the feel of his body against yours. "Good girl." He pulled his hand from your mouth. "Did you like my gift?" he asked.

"You know better."

Loki smirked. "No matter. I only gave it to you so I could leave it in tatters on my floor later." His eyes slid down your form and he bit his lip as if deciding where to start. "But seeing you now, I've half a mind to devour you right here." He pressed you against the pillar, mouth going to your neck, all teeth and tongue. His hands gripped your thighs and hips.

You gasped and pushed him back. "Someone will hear," you said, indignant.

Loki grinned and brought his hand against your bare back, bending you against him. "Then I suggest you stop talking."

You shoved your knee between Loki's legs with enough force that he moved back, though he laughed. "Little spitfire."

Spitfire. Loki only used that term for you when he was amused by your defiance. You saw red. "You ruined my dress. You stole my clothes. You made me wear this ridiculous outfit. And you don't even have the decency to realize what you've done wrong!" You realized that your voice had risen. If you continued like that, someone would come to investigate. You took a deep breath to steady yourself. "I want my clothes back," you said, even and emotionless.

"Is that all?" Loki asked. "Easily granted. Come along, pet." He set off down the corridor, dragging you along by your wrist.

You pulled free. "I'm not going with you. You're just trying to seduce me again."

"That is my plan, yes."

"No."

Loki looked you over. "Your clothes are in my rooms," he said. "You don't have to come with me, but then you'll be wearing that dress again tomorrow. I would enjoy that, but I suspect you would be less than pleased." The corners of his mouth curved upward. "If, however, you do accompany me, our current arrangement still stands. I won't do anything to you, pet." He leaned forward and dropped his voice into a tone that melted your insides. "Not unless you ask first." He stepped away a few strides and shrugged. "If you're certain that you can resist… then there is no risk."

It was a trap. You knew it was a trap. It was—

You scowled and strode past him, leading the way to Loki's suite.

Chapter Text

"Alright then," Loki said when you entered his rooms and he closed the door behind him. "Go ahead."

You took a cautious step back, eyeing him like a snake you'd happened upon in the grass. "What do you mean?"

Loki stepped forward and you retreated again, but rather than taking you in his arms like you expected, he stepped around you to the living area and sat on the couch. "Your fury, your wrath"—he waved his hand vaguely to the air around him—"whatever revenge you have in store for me. Let's get on with it."

You felt as if the ground had quite suddenly been yanked out from under you, leaving you in freefall. You had expected him to tease you more, to bully you into submission, not to sit serenely on the couch waiting for you to dole out some unknown punishment. With a spark like the light of a candle, your mind touched ground again.

A game.

Of course it was a game. Everything Loki did was a game. He may have traded tactics, but he wasn't playing you any less by stepping into your fury. "Don't mock me," you said.

"I wouldn't dare." Loki held up his hands as if in surrender, but the corners of his mouth pulled in a suppressed smile.

You couldn't let him twist you into chasing your tail. You needed time to think, to regain your senses after the flash of anger. "I just want my clothes back."

"Of course." Loki indicated another part of the room where a pile of boxes stood.

You stepped away, giving him a wide berth as you circled the couch. You peered inside each one, making sure they held clothes and not some other trick or trap. Stars, how had he gotten them here without anyone noticing? And how in all the heavens were you going to get them back to your room? You stepped back with your hands on your hips, surveying the problem.

After a minute of silence, Loki spoke. "Why is it that you're so angry with me?"

You didn't look at him as you answered. "You ruined my dress."

"Is that all?" He scoffed. "I can replace it easily enough."

You frowned and watched him from the corner of your eye. "You stole my clothes."

"Only for a few hours. And, as you can see, I'm returning them." He shifted. "That was mischief at best. Childish, but hardly malicious."

You temper flared. "Yes," you said, rounding on him, "but the whole reason you did those things was to make me wear this ridiculous outfit. You could have just given it to me like a normal person."

He leaned forward, watching you with an intensity that gave you the sudden sense of walking into a room filled with unseen danger. "If I had"—amusement flickered over his features—"as you suggest, given you the dress and asked you to wear it, would you have?"

You crossed your arms over your stomach and scowled. "Of course not."

"Why not?"

Your mind stalled. You'd been so furious at the idea of him choosing your clothing, but… why? It was a flattering dress, though hardly your style, but still… No, even if it was similar to any other dress you had, you would have resented it. You had balked because Loki had wanted you to wear it. Could you possibly be that petty… to refuse a request merely because it was him who asked? No. Loki always played games. He always had an angle. If you'd trusted him, you would have come out embarrassed, nothing else. "You would have been tricking me."

When Loki took your hand in his, you realized that, throughout your conversation, your feet had carried you to him without your meaning them to. You swore internally, cursing your traitorous body. He'd lured you right into his arms with nothing but his eyes and a few well-placed words.

"What if my only design was simply to see you in it?" Loki asked. He pulled you closer, so you stood between his legs. From where he sat on the couch, his eyes looked directly over your heart. "You didn't wear the necklace, love." He wrapped one arm around your back, the other still tangled in your fingers, and pressed a kiss in the exact center of your chest, where the largest stone of the necklace would have rested. "I wanted to see you in it and nothing else." He looked up at you, eyes wide. This… this was new. You had never been in any sort of position to look down on Loki quite this way. From this angle, he looked unbearably young. Stars… you were in trouble. "You look resplendent," he whispered against your skin. "Positively radiant. I had no idea a garment could suit you so well."

Your mind stirred in protest and you grasped weakly at the argument that slipped further away with every second he had his hands on you. "It doesn't. It's nothing like me."

Loki ran his hand down your sides, smoothing over the fabric of the dress. "It may not befit the girl that sits silent at Thor's side… but the woman who called me to her room? Who told me such wicked things that it made me weak? Who met me in the gardens? It suits her perfectly."

"No, that's not who—" Stars, you burned. Listing them all out like that… you sounded wanton. "I'm not—"

"You keep insisting that I'm wrong," Loki said, cutting you off. "As if who you are when you're with me is some character you play. I think it's quite the opposite." His hand left yours in favor of running his fingers up and down the length of your arm. His eyes watched the motion, then returned to your face, fixing you in place. "Is it so unforgivable that I wanted others to see you how I do?" he asked.

Oh, stars, no, never that. How could you be mad at Loki for adoring you? You couldn't blame him for wanting to show you off, not when he looked up at you with—

No.

You were angry with Loki. You were, damn it! And you had every right to be. You would see it through, despite the ache in your chest that told you to forgive him instantly. Just because he was all praise and pleasing now didn't excuse what he had done. It was just a game to him—one he always won. You couldn't just play right into his hands.

Or… you could.

After all, the only time Loki had lost his guard was when he'd thought he had the upper hand. And he must expect you to fall for it, the way he was lavishing you with attention. If he was wrapped up in trying to get out of trouble by stroking your vanity, perhaps he wouldn't notice if you turned the tables. That could work… Loki wasn't the only one who could play tricks after all.

"It wasn't so terribly bad," you said, one hand coming up to comb your fingers through his hair.

He ran his nose along your sternum, then nuzzled at the swell of your breast. A tingle ran down your spine. "You'll forgive me, then?" he said.

"I suppose."

"That doesn't sound certain."

"I'm still mad."

"Perhaps I could persuade you." The blood heated in your veins. His confidence was a tangible thing, wrapping around you more securely than his arms.

He pulled you forward by your waist until you had no choice but to join him on the couch, straddled over his lap. He held you to him with one strong hand between your shoulder blades. You slung your arms around his neck, relaxing into his grip and letting your head fall back so you watched the ceiling. He feathered kisses along your collarbone.

Time slid, blurring into caresses and whispers. You allowed the feeling to wash over you the same way that the music had. You let go of all your worries and anger and just let Loki's lips and hands lull you into bliss. Just because you planned to make him pay for his crimes didn't mean you couldn't enjoy the process. He was supposed to make it up to you, after all. Loki's hand tangled in your hair, tipping you up so he could kiss you. You moaned into it, letting him take it deeper when he tried.

You broke away and worried Loki's neck with your teeth, sucking a bruise to life near his shoulder. He relaxed against the back of the couch, letting you lavish him with attention. "You're being awful good, kitten," he said. His fingers traced the line of your shoulders, the barest brush of skin.

You nipped at the corner of his jaw. "I'm always good."

"Where's all the fight from earlier?" Loki asked. You smiled against his neck. He had suspicions. You could feel him puzzling it over in his mind, but he didn't know what you were planning. Not yet. Moves and countermoves. He was two steps ahead of you and yet three behind… "I thought you were angry with me," he said.

"I am." You returned to Loki's mouth and kissed him, long and slow and deep. "I don't like this dress," you said against his lips. "I want you to take it off."

Loki's laugh vibrated through you. "Well, since you asked…" His fingers undid the ties that held it to your form with practiced efficiency. He slid the straps over your shoulders and down your arms. The cloth puddled around you.

Loki ran his fingers up your skin from hip to chest. One hand cupped your breast while the other pulled you tightly against him. You ran your fingers through his hair, scraping your nails over his scalp to make him hold you tighter. You sank into his kiss, a long sensuous exchange punctuated with feather light touches. He ran his hands over your body as if his goal was to touch every inch of you. When his fingers drifted between your legs, you stopped him.

"No," you said. "I didn't tell you to touch." You cupped his jaw in your hands and tilted his face up to yours.

Loki looked at you through lidded eyes, a sort of pleasant haze having taken over the green. "Not with your words, no." His hand ran a trail down your stomach.

"That's not how the game works. I have to ask."

"Then ask." He pressed up for another kiss but you retreated, keeping the space between you at inches.

You pushed off Loki and rolled gracefully to your feet. As you stood in front of him, the dress fell to the floor. You were far past the embarrassment of his examination now. The way he drank you in, eyes lingering over every curve, was intoxicating.

"I want to touch you," you said.

For a moment, Loki didn’t respond. His eyes darkened as the pupils blew wide. He stood and stepped into your space, looming over you. "What are you planning in that pretty little mind of yours, pet?" There was the barest hint of warning in his tone, an undertone of darkness that set you on your guard.

You swallowed the rush of anxiety and stepped forward, pressing along Loki's body like a cat looking for warmth. "I only plan to enjoy myself," you said. You tipped up on your toes to press a kiss to his chin and ran your hands down his side. "Please."

The word had an immediate effect on Loki, like you lit him up like a firework. He snatched you off your feet by the waist. You yelped in surprise and wrapped your legs around him, gripping at his shoulders with your hands to hold your balance. Loki kissed you, taking your breath away, and hooked one arm under you to support your weight. Too absorbed in the way your body seemed to have ignited, you didn't notice that Loki had carried you into the other room until he laid you out on the bed.

You fumbled at the clasps of Loki's clothing, having to work around him as he kissed you, his hands mapping every inch of your form. He chuckled when you had to break away so you could wrestle his pants off him.

You hadn't started with much of a plan, but as soon as you had Loki naked and laid out on his back before you, you knew what you wanted to try. So what if you had never done it before? You had the general idea from books and pictures. All you had to do was make him feel good. How hard could it be?

You leaned down and took the hard length of him in your mouth as far as you could. He jerked under you with a curse. You pulled back, thinking you'd done something to hurt him, but his hands tangled in your hair, keeping you in place.

"No, pet," he said, voice hoarse. "Don't stop."

Oh.

A rush of heat flashed through your body. You started slow, exploring with your tongue and lips, listening to every change in Loki's breathing. His hands petted down your neck and over your shoulders in encouraging caresses. Praise flowed from him like he couldn't stop it, intermingled with short, breathless instructions that you followed with enthusiasm. It couldn't have been that good (it was your first time and you weren't stupid enough to think you were an expert), but his enthusiastic reaction spurred you on.

As your movements sped, Loki became incoherent, losing the trail of what he was saying into groans and curses. "Just like that," he said, hands tightening over your shoulders. "Keep going, pet." He was close, you could tell, and that was exactly where you had wanted him to be from the beginning. You had your games to play too.

You pulled off—an action Loki met with a cry of protest—and sat back on your heels, hand still wrapped around him. "Apologize," you said, "for what you did tonight."

"What?" Loki looked at you, eyes hazy, but filled with half bewilderment, half indignation. You saw in his eyes the moment he realized what was happening, when it dawned on him that he wasn't nearly as in control of the situation as he'd thought, that he'd walked into a trap.

"Say you're sorry." You stroked him once and Loki bit his lip, hand flexing against his thigh, unable to reach you.

"Vixen," he said, eyes narrowing. "What happened to my sweet pet?"

"You poured wine on her and stole her clothes. Now apologize." You continued your movements, going slow enough to be maddening, not satisfying.

Loki laughed, but it turned into a groan and his head fell back. "I'm sorry."

"You have to mean it. Try again."

He moaned. "I underestimated you. I'll have to be so much more careful from now on."

"That's not an apology." You leaned down to swirl your tongue over the head of his cock and he jerked under you. "Try again."

"Forgive me, pet. Please."

Close enough. And probably the only concession you'd get from him. You took him in your mouth again and his hips bucked under you. You slowed when you knew he wanted faster, a tease that you knew better than to follow through. He cursed and groaned and tensed under you. And… it was wonderful—keeping him helpless, having him whisper your name with reverence. And after a while, you gave him what he wanted, moving faster again and sucking as you took him down. He tensed, his hips lifting off the mattress, and came with a strangled sound. His cock jerked and you recoiled as his bitter seed spilled in your mouth, but his hands gripping your hair held you in place. A few moments later, he fell back, releasing you. You pulled off him and swallowed—cringing a little. You sat back to catch your breath only to lose it all over again at the sight in front of you.

You had seen Loki thousands of times in your life—in the halls of the palace, at his father's side, and more recently in these intimate moments. He could be stoic, sometimes playful and mischievous, but never anything like this. You had never seen the lax figure in front of you, panting and spent. This Loki— with all his tightly held control in shreds on the sheets around him—this Loki was just for you.

Loki opened his eyes, fixing you in place. He sat up and pulled you into a thorough kiss, his tongue sweeping inside your mouth like he wanted to taste himself on you. He pulled you with him when he laid down and rolled you onto the bed next to him. For a few minutes, the two of you laid in silence, Loki tracing ticklish patterns over your skin.

"Did you enjoy tormenting me?" Loki finally asked. "You seem quite pleased with yourself."

You smiled and hummed, rolling your head against the pillow. "You deserved it."

He chuckled. "My little spitfire."

You were half-asleep, content with your success. What you said next crept out of the part of you that was already drifting off. "I'm not yours."

You knew the words were a mistake the moment they left your lips. The temperature dropped as Loki paused in his movements. He was over you in an instant, body pinning you against the bed. You yelped, caught in the sudden fright of it. He pulled your arms over your head and pinned them in place with one hand while you thrashed against his grip. He sucked and bit at your throat, high on your neck, hard enough that you winced. You squeezed your eyes shut and whimpered. After a minute, he gentled, soothing over the pain with a stroke of his tongue. "There, sweet." He pulled back with a sigh, releasing you, and looked at you through lidded eyes.

No. Not at you, at least, not at your eyes. He was looking at your neck.

Your hand flew to your throat. "What did you do?" You shoved him away and scrambled off the bed, finding a mirror against the far wall. A tiny, dark bruise marred the skin under your jaw. Oh stars… What if someone saw it? There was no way to hide that. It wasn't as if Thor would believe that he had put it there. "What am I supposed to do about this?" you cried, turning back.

Loki laughed and laid back against the bed, folding his arms behind his head and looking immensely pleased with himself. "This isn't funny!" You stalked back and hit him with a pillow.

He took it from your grasp easily and wrestled you onto the bed beside him. He shushed you, rolling onto his side and pulling you close against him. "You can fight me about it in the morning, love." He nuzzled against your temple. "Just sleep, for now." You pushed against him, struggling to get out of his grip and failing spectacularly. He tightened his arms around you and nestled your head under his chin. "Tomorrow, pet. I'll give you whatever you want then. For now, I just stay here with me."

Chapter Text

You tried to stay awake, to keep Loki's smell and warmth and soft breathing from lulling you into sleep.

You failed.

You woke with Loki's hands on you, coming to awareness in a rush. You gasped and he captured your first breath in a kiss. It was like waking on fire. He pressed against you, hard and insistent, speeding the pace of your heart, synching it to the rapid beat of his. His hands swept up your body and he ducked to take your nipple into his mouth. You gasped and arched into him. His hand slid under the curve of your back, lifting your hips into him so you could feel the press of his cock against you. There was no time to think, no time to breathe, all you could do was respond.

Loki moved lower and pressed a kiss to each rib in turn. In his absence, you noticed a cold weight that settled on top of your chest. You looked down, puzzled. A necklace lay across your chest, the same one that you'd neglected the night before.

"When did you—?"

Loki chuckled. "I brought it when I returned your clothes to your room this morning. I did tell you…" He looked up, eyes locking with yours over the shining stones of the necklace. "I wanted to see you in nothing else." He kissed around the necklace, nosing the stones to the side to give himself easier access to your breasts. "You were spectacular last night."

"You were an ass last night."

Loki chuckled. His mouth trailed lower, never staying in one place for long. You gasped and moaned, mind trying desperately to grasp at any logical action. But you couldn't. Everything was a blur of Loki—his hands and lips, the burn of his skin against yours.  

When you moved to sit up after him, he stopped you. "Be still, love," he said, his voice stern. He pushed you back against the pillows. "Be good and lie back. Let me take care of you." It was a sweet thing to say, yet he phrased it as a command, just as forceful as any other he'd given you. He kissed his way down your stomach and settled between your legs. "I told you last night I would give you anything you wanted. Don't waste the opportunity." He sucked and bit at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and you gasped. "Anything you desire, sweetheart. All you have to do is tell me."

You whined. Why play this game now? "Please don't make me ask," you said. "Please. You already know."

Loki looked up, surprised eyes meeting your own. A smile crossed his face, softening the sharp features. "Sweet girl. How is it you always unravel all my resolve?"

Loki bent to you and licked his way inside. Your head fell back, mouth open in a silent cry. He settled between your legs, like he never planned to leave, and looped one arm over your hips to hold you in place, leaving you with no escape. He took his time, slow strokes of his tongue working you higher. Without your hands bound by his words, you were free to tangle them in his hair. He slid one finger inside you, then two, taking up a rhythm that made you see stars.  You lost track of what he was doing or how. For all you knew, it was magic. He circled your clit with his thumb, pressing just hard enough and you gasped and whined, abandoning his hair in favor of clutching at the sheets.

"Be as loud as you like, love," Loki said. "No one can hear you but me." Still you held quiet. Perhaps he said no one could hear you, but Loki lied as often as he breathed. But he didn't make it easy for you. Your enjoyment built under his relentless attention until you were practically shaking. You turned your head to stifle a moan into his pillow. "So stubborn," he said. "Resist if you like, sweet, but you'll scream for me in the end."

Slow and lazy gave way to steady power. Your muscles tensed, holding you on the edge of oblivion so long that they hurt. Loki played you along the precipice—so close, refusing to let you fall—until your panting breaths turned to sobs and cries. You came with a shout, the sound echoing off the walls around you.

But Loki didn’t stop. You writhed and struggled against him, fighting to stop the overstimulation, but he held fast, capturing your hands to hold you still. Your nerves overloaded until all you could do was writhe and scream against it. It was as if his only object in the world was to drive you mad. You must have said as much, because he pulled away in a fit of laughter.

Loki moved up your body—a sensuous prowl over your form. "Good girl." He lowered himself to press a kiss to your lips. "I did warn you."

You whimpered and rolled into his arms, tangling yourself in him and snuggling against his chest. You floated in the blissful haze, anchored to the world only by Loki's fingers around yours. He examined each in turn, as if memorizing it. He stroked feather-light touches across your knuckles, pressed a kiss to the tip of each finger. His every movement filled you with a lazy peace, like the warmth of the baths. Such things could never last.

Like surfacing from water, your mind stirred to life. You couldn't stay here forever, no matter how soft and warm and safe you felt. You placed one hand over Loki's chest to push yourself away far enough to see his face. "What time is it?"

"Early."

"I should go."

He made no indication of whether he agreed with this statement or not, but he didn't stop you when you rose from the bed. You spun to look around for your clothes before realizing that you'd left your dress in the other room.

"I have something for you to wear, pet." Loki lounged across the bed, watching you with a passive expression. He held a blue bundle out toward you.

You took it from him, the soft cloth flowing through your hands. It was a dress you liked, one you wore frequently. You looked at him, puzzled.

"You think I would let you leave in the same clothes you arrived in last night? How scandalous."

You burned. Of course. If anyone saw you walking the halls still in the daring green dress from last night, there would be no end to the rumors. "Thank you," you murmured as you stepped into the dress. Loki's quiet stare was unnerving. You straightened the cloth over your form, an electric nervousness tingling under your skin. The energy of the room felt like the air before a thunderstorm, filled with leashed power. You felt as if you should say something, but when you opened your mouth, you had no idea what it should be. You turned to leave.

"Wait, pet," Loki said, catching you by your fingertips and pulling you back to where he sat on the edge of the bed. "I can't have you going out this way." He reached up to trace your hair away from your face. "You look thoroughly loved. People will wonder."

Over Loki's shoulder, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in a mirror on the far wall. Your hair was in disarray, your makeup smudged and smeared. The mark he'd left on your neck the night before stood out in sharp relief. Thoroughly loved, indeed. You flushed.

"Here, sweet." Loki settled his hand over the necklace that you still wore. A ring of gold light spread from his hand over the stones. When you looked back to the mirror, the love bite on your neck had disappeared as if it had never been. You turned your head to the side to examine it, running your fingers over the skin, but there was no remnant.

"A trick?"

"An illusion." Loki pressed a kiss over where the mark had been. "As long as you wear the necklace, no one will see."

You frowned at him. "You could have concealed it by itself."

Loki grinned, a feral flash of teeth. "What would be the fun in that? It's your choice, love. You can wear my necklace or you can wear my mark. As for the rest…" Loki spun you away from him and used your imbalance to drop you to your knees with your back to him.

Your heart surged with sudden anxiety. It was too big a shift. Where moments before, you had felt his equal—at least here, at least in the bedroom—kneeling at his feet was a painful reminder of the gulf between your social positions. Stars, and you'd been so impertinent last night. Your body went rigid, cold coursing through your veins.

Loki turned your chin over your shoulder to look at him. His eyes roamed over your face, reading you more effectively than any book. "What is it?"

"I—" You swallowed. How could you voice your doubts? That you weren't fit to sit at his feet, much less tease him as you had the night before. Stars, you shouldn't even dare to call him by his first name, yet you'd done so for weeks with impunity. Tears pricked at the side of your eyes. You—you shouldn't—

Loki's grip on you tightened. The sliver of pain cut through, grounding you. "Tell me, pet."

Pet. Loki's favorite endearment for you, another reminder of your comparative insignificance. You were an amusement, a toy, nothing more than a cute animal he could play with when he wanted. "I can't—"

"You will."

"Please." It was a plea—an unintentional one—torn from the part of you that desperately wanted to slink away in shame. How could you have gotten so carried away?

Loki stared at you a moment longer, expressions warring over his face. Finally, with a huff of frustration, he shook his head, then released you so you faced away from him again. His fingers went to your hair, removing the pins and running through the strands. He didn't speak further, but there was no swell of relief. You clutched the fabric of your skirt in your fists. He was biding his time, letting you stew in your own emotions. He stroked your hair, detangling the knots that had formed until it streamed down your back in a silky cascade. He didn't stop there, gathering segments of hair at your temple and braiding them together.

Curiosity surged to the fore. When had Loki learned to style hair? It wasn't anything elaborate, but still. Had Frigga… or maybe he'd practiced on Thor? Stars, that was an amusing image. But… that wasn't your place to ask. You closed your eyes and bowed your head, letting Loki do as he wished without comment. The pins went back into your hair, securing the braids in place.

Loki's hand rested at the base of your neck, thumb feathering over the skin. The motion was settling, putting back a piece of your serenity. You felt held. Secure.

"Come," Loki said as he stood. He didn't give you an option in the matter, pulling you up by the wrist and leading you to a basin of water. You followed meekly and fell into a passive stance when he stopped. He tipped your chin up, his eyes filled with concern rather than irritation now. He started to speak, reconsidered, then released you to reach for a cloth. He dipped it in the water and wrung it out. You watched his hands, your attention fixed on the movements of his long, strong fingers. They'd held you fast, demanded your response, driven you to madness, and gentled you back down. And now… they reached for you, one hand curling around the back of your neck, the other holding the cloth as he wiped carefully around your eyes. The tenderness made your heart ache.

Loki set the cloth aside and took your face in his hands. He ran his thumbs over your cheeks. "I'll ask you again, love. One last chance. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You shied away, your eyes shifting to the side.

He jerked your gaze back up to him. "No. If you're going to lie to me, you have to do it properly. Look me in the eye."

"Please…"

"What could I have possibly done to deserve such coldness?"

A pained sound escaped from your throat. "No. You're wonderful—"

"Flattery won't suffice this time, love. Only honesty will satisfy."

You opened your mouth, only to snap it shut again. "I'm sorry." You broke. You'd gotten so caught up in the idea of the game, of beating Loki at his own tricks, that you'd completely forgotten your place. "What happened last night… I shouldn’t have denied you like that. It's not my place… I shouldn't have… I—I shouldn't even be here."

"Is that all?" Loki ran the backs of his fingers down the length of your neck. "You will understand this, love. You are right where I want you. You are free to play and tease all you want; you know I will take every opportunity to do the same. If I am displeased with you, you will know. If I think you've wronged me, I will punish you how I see fit." He rested his forehead against yours. "You are worth playing with, pet, and I'm not done yet. Do you understand?"

A heavy stone formed in your throat. You could hardly breathe, much less speak. You nodded.

"Answer me properly."

You cleared your throat, swallowing the thickness that had gathered there. "Yes."

"Try again."

You pulled back to look at him, confused. Why did he always do this? He pushed and pulled you in different directions, making you stumble and grope your way through the dark to find how to please him. The last time he'd done this… you hadn't addressed him how he wanted. You felt a shiver that hadn't crossed you in weeks. "Yes… Master."

He pulled you against him, pressing your head to his chest. "A wonderful attempt, sweet, but not quite right. Not this time. Try again."

You floundered. What could he want, if not…?

"Come on, sweetheart," Loki said, bending to your ear. His voice dropped to the level that flowed through you as if it were your own blood. "Why is it only now that you deny me the sound of my name on your lips?"

Your heart thumped. You had been nervous about the distance between you. Was this reassurance? It was as if he saw through you, straight into your thoughts. Your tongue snaked out to wet your lips. "Yes, Loki."

"Good girl." Loki pulled you upward by the nape of your neck and pressed a kiss to your lips. "Go now. I'll come for you later."

Chapter Text

Loki had developed an irritating habit of showing up in your room whenever he pleased. This time, he laid next to you in bed when you woke, propped on one elbow, watching you. The dawn light outlined him like a halo.

You groaned. "Why are you here?" You pulled the sheets over your head, too tired to be properly outraged at his intrusion.

"You called for me in your sleep."

"I did not."

"Of course you did." Loki joined you in the safety of your blanket haven, wriggling in close to you, sharing the air between you like a secret. "You must have dreamed of me. You were moaning and writhing in the sheets."

"I was not."

"Yes you were. You only quieted once my arms were around you." He pulled you against him as if to demonstrate. "I was half-persuaded to take you right then."

You raised your chin in challenge. "Then why didn't you?"

A wicked grin spread over his face. He leaned forward as if to kiss you, but stopped just before, close enough that his lips caught against yours as he said, "Because you haven't asked for it yet."

Ah… back to the familiar game. The blurriness of sleep cleared like a fading fog and the delightful possibilities of a playful Loki in your bed presented themselves. You burrowed into him, pressing all along his body, and tucked your face into the hollow of his throat. "Poor Loki. I'm so cruel to you."

"So terribly cruel," he said. His fingers trailed down your thigh, twisting and twirling the fabric of your shift up your legs.

You scraped your teeth over his jaw and rubbed your palm along the front of his pants, across his hardening erection. His harsh intake of breath was a reward all its own. "I'm afraid it won't be enough for you to ask me to bed you," you continued. "You'll have to beg. I want you on your knees."

"You've already had me on my knees, love, and the only one of us begging at the time was you."

"Is that what happened? Perhaps I need a reminder."

Loki laughed and pressed you against the bed in a burning kiss. You met his need with your own. He hiked your knee up around his waist, spreading you for him and pressing his erection against your core through your shift.

The clock at your bedside chimed. Loki growled, then pulled away from you. You whined as he stepped away, leaving you cold and wanting. He smirked and pressed a kiss against your lips. "That's the look I want to remember as I leave: you mad with needing me."

You sat up, your aroused mind bewildered by his sudden absence. "Leave? For where?"

"I am to go to Vanaheim. Will you be alright while I'm gone?"

"What?"

"Vanaheim—"

"Yes, I heard that part."

"Will you be alright without me here?"

You resisted the urge to laugh. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He returned, prowling closer with heat in his eyes. "You have a tendency to overthink when I'm not around to keep you focused." He cupped your jaw with one hand and leant to press a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear. A shiver ran through you at his touch. "I'm rather concerned that I'll come back and you'll have twisted your sweet self into thinking you can resist me and we'll have to start this process all over again. As fun as it is to spin you into my web, I have no desire to redo past efforts." His hand wandered lower, to the neckline of your shift. "To that end, pet, allow me to give your busy little mind an alternative." His fingers slid under the fabric, tracing the swell of each breast. Your eyes slipped closed. "I want you to think of me. Of us together. Of my cock inside you. Imagine me filling you until you don't see the distance between us anymore. Imagine shouting my name to the stars. I intend to find your hidden desires—the things that make you blush during the day and moan at night. I'll fulfill each and every one of them, sweet." You whimpered, clutching at his arms."Ask, and everything you want is yours." He nipped lightly at your ear, then pulled away with a sigh. "As much as I'd like to follow through on those promises now, darling, I'm afraid I don't have time for you this morning. I'll be late as it is." He stepped away from your bed.

You grabbed his hand as he turned and rose to your knees to kiss him. It was supposed to be short—a sweet farewell—but your arms wrapped around his neck of their own accord and drew him down to you. Your lips never parted from his as he followed you back onto the bed, covering your form with his. Heat crackled between you, chasing out the chill morning air. You guided his hand over your body, pressing it between your legs. He obliged and his tongue slid into your mouth even as his fingers slid into your center.

It was wonderful, yet not nearly enough. His expert touch inside you spun you higher, but your body refused to be satisfied, as if it knew what waited for it on the other side of your hesitation. Stars, you wanted everything he promised. You wanted to feel his power inside you. You wanted him any way he would take you.

Loki's lips moved to your neck. His fingers stroked stronger, making you keen against his shoulder. You arched into him and wrapped your arms around his back. "Loki, I—"

"I know, pet. Don't worry."

"Please—"

"Come for me, sweetheart. I won't stop you this time."

What he did, you didn't know; you unraveled and, for a few moments, lost track of yourself, held to the world only by Loki's arms around you. You fought through the haze that told you to fold yourself in his embrace and give him anything he wanted, if only he would stay. There was a point you needed to make. You struggled to find your voice. "If I'm to think of you in your absence," you said, gasping around the words, "then you must think of me." Your hand went to him, undoing his pants and finding his cock, still hard from your earlier attentions. You stroked him, watching the pleasure cross his face as he loomed over you. "Think of burying yourself inside me," you said, "of making me cry when I come. Imagine all the things you can make me say and do, the secrets you'll find." There was no time for teasing, even if you wanted to. Instead, you employed every trick you'd learned from him, every touch he liked. His body tensed, sweat beading across his skin as he fought to keep his control even while you unwound it with your words and touch. "I'm all yours," you said, whispering in his ear, "but only if you'll beg for me."

Loki's hips jerked forward, stroking himself inside your hand, and he came with a shudder. He groaned into your shoulder, though he held himself off you. For a few moments, he stayed there, his heaving breaths shaking his form.

"See what you do to me, little one?" he asked. He ran his nose along the side of your face, pressing a last kiss to your temple before he stood and set himself once again to rights. "I'm late and yet you've lured me into staying a little longer."

You smiled in response and rolled yourself into a cocoon of covers, curling up against the cushions once again. "Be safe," you said as you floated back into dreams. "I'll miss you."

#

Your doze didn't last long. Soon, the hustle of servants in the castle disturbed your blissful slumber and you roused once more, disoriented and tangled in your blankets. Waking cold and alone was much less satisfying, but you pushed the disappointment aside. You could hardly allow yourself to grow accustomed to finding Loki at your side every morning.

You followed the sounds of unrest to the window and peeked around the curtain to see the armies of Asgard assembling in the courtyard. They hadn't left yet, then. If you dressed quickly, you could see them off. That would be the appropriate thing to do—something you had done before, in fact. And if your stomach flipped at the thought of seeing Loki again… well that was between you and the stars.

You readied yourself, pausing at your mirror to scowl at the tiny bruise that had nearly faded from your neck. You would need to wear Loki's necklace again today. After fastening it, you flitted down the stairs that led to the grand hall, then out into the brisk air of the courtyard. Soldiers milled about and you smiled and wished victory to any who caught sight of you as you slipped through their ranks. Such things had been happening more and more frequently lately, though you didn't quite know why.

You wove to the front, where Thor, Loki, and the other elite warriors would be, but when you broke through the crowd, you saw only Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. You looked around, spinning in a tight circle. Had you missed them somehow? When you looked back, Sif noticed you and gave a curt nod. You returned a bow.

"It's good of you to come."

You startled as a heavy hand landed on your shoulder. You looked up (and up and up) to meet Thor's gaze. A smile crossed your face automatically and you dropped from under his hand into a curtsy. "Of course, My Lord," you said to his feet.

"Are you well lately?" Thor asked. He adjusted his armor as he spoke.

"Yes, thank you."

You exchanged further pleasantries, never gaining more than half of Thor's attention. It wasn't that you didn't like Thor. He was friendly and caring, kind enough to you and your family. But, despite knowing you would marry him since childhood, you had never known him as more than a polite acquaintance. Thor lived in a world of clamor and chaos. He was blazing fires and blaring horns, while you were cool rain and tinkling chimes. You had simply never made enough noise to draw his attention.

 The puzzled look that crossed his face was your only clue that you had missed something he said while caught in your own musings. "I beg pardon," you said, shaking yourself. "What did you ask?"

"Will you be alright while I'm gone?"

"Of course she will." Loki appeared at your other shoulder, sending a spike of anxiety through your chest. The other warriors approached, hemming you in with Loki on one side and Thor on the other.

"You're late," Sif said.

Loki pulled gloves over his hands and took the reins of the horse that Sif held out for him. "I was otherwise occupied."

Fandral laughed, his short, golden hair catching in the sun. "I hope your distraction—whoever she was—was worthwhile."

Your heart thumped. Certainly, Loki wouldn't—

"Exceptionally so," Loki responded. His eyes raked over you in a way that heated you through and yet chilled you to your bones. The others were busy with their horses and didn't seem to notice.

"You'll have to tell us about her." Thor hefted himself into his saddle, settling with the practiced ease of someone who spent more time riding than not.

Loki mounted as well. "You know I like my secrets." He turned his horse around, winking so only you'd see. Your stomach plummeted toward your feet.

Thor paused his horse at your side and held his hand down to you. "My lady." You placed your hand in his and he leant down to press it to his lips. From the corner of your vision, you saw Loki scowl. "You should get inside before you get cold," Thor said.

"Of course." You forced a small smile to your lips, though, at the moment, you would rather have sank into the courtyard stones. "I wish you luck."

"Thank you"—he released your hand —"but there is no need."

You stepped aside as they set out, watching the backs of the leaving army as they crossed to the Bifrost.

Stars… you were in trouble again.

Chapter Text

Twelve days. How was it possible that Loki had had only been absent for twelve days? Your chambers were far too small, too empty, too quiet. You paced the floor, running out of steps between one wall and another. You abandoned your room in favor of wandering the frozen gardens. The familiar paths kept your feet busy, but the shadows in every alcove seemed to whisper to you and the cold made you think of things that were decidedly warmer. You left the gardens to go to the library. At least there, your mind could be occupied by something other than thoughts of Loki. But the books that once welcomed you home every day felt cold and distant. You couldn't even pet the damned library cat without a pang of loneliness. You finally fled the library in favor of your room, where you could huddle in your bed and hold yourself together.

You were the same person as always, with the same interests and passions and loves. Nothing had changed. Nothing had changed. Nothing had changed. It hadn't.

But everything had.

You had let it with your stupid pride and your stupid games and your stupid, inappropriate attachment to Loki. And he had only been gone twelve days.

The sound of running servants was your first warning that the armies were back. You perked up from where you'd curled on the couch and sprang to your feet. You hurried down the stairs and outside, your skirt held in one hand. Soldiers filled the courtyard outside, reuniting with their families to a chorus of joyous shouts. At the head of the warriors was Thor, flush with the glow of victory. But no Loki. You scanned the faces of the crowd, but nowhere did you find the dark hair and piercing eyes you sought.

"Has Loki returned?" you asked a woman who cheered near you.

She looked out at the returning throng as well. "I haven't seen him."

"Loki?" asked a nearby man. "He was injured."

Your heart stopped.

You rushed through the palace halls, walking when others could see you, sprinting when they could not. 'Injured' could mean a lot of things. Injured could mean a cut or bruise, a broken bone, a split skull, a deep wound, infection, loss of limb, severe disability. Injured could mean Loki was on his deathbed.

You arrived in the medical rooms out of breath.

"My lady," said the nurse at the front, her voice laced with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I—" You gulped a few breaths. You couldn't ask after Loki. Not directly. Not without giving away everything. "I wanted to visit the wounded."

You followed her through the rooms, pressing hands that reached out for you, offering smiles and words of comfort. All the while, your eyes roved restlessly over the beds. Loki wasn't in the first room, nor in the next, nor the next, nor the next. A mounting anxiety fizzed just inside your ribcage like the lit end of a firecracker. You maintained all appearances of calm and comfort, while inside you strained to see through walls and around corners. If Loki was injured, where in all the stars was he?

You finished the round of rooms with the nurse and, as she thanked you, you couldn't hold in your desperation any longer. "I heard that Prince Loki was injured. Is he here?"

Her eyes softened, almost like she understood, but she didn't ask after the issue. "He was, but he's in his rooms now. He'll be more comfortable there."

You barely managed to thank her before you were off again, taking as many back hallways as possible to avoid curious eyes that would follow your too hurried form.

The front room of Loki's suite was empty, so you rushed through to the bedroom. You burst through the door, breathless and half-wild, to find him sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. He still wore his armor, dirty and crusted with blood. His hair lay lank and matted against his forehead. At the sound of your entrance, he looked up sharply. His eyes flashed. "I have told you before—"

"You were injured?" you asked, ignoring his outrage. You went to your knees on the floor at his feet so you could look up into his eyes.

"Yes, why—"

"What happened?" You took his face in your hands, examining him for any sign of pain.

"I was stabbed. What—"

"Where?"

"Right ribs."

"Are you alright?"

"Pet, what—"

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." He grabbed your wrists and held your arms away from him. "What are you doing here?"

"I—" You took a shuddering breath, feeling air fill your lungs for the first time since you'd begun your search. The swell of relief that had crashed over you left behind only exhaustion. "I heard you were hurt."

"And so you decided to barge into my rooms at your first opportunity?"

"I couldn’t find you at the hospital. They didn't tell me what happened. I thought—" Your voice broke. Loki blinked and the anger in his eyes vanished. His grip on your arms loosened. You slipped your wrists from his hands and ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing it away from his face. "Does it hurt?"

It took Loki a moment to find his voice. "Well, I was stabbed."

"How can I help?"

"Honestly, pet—"

"Please."

All the fight seemed to go out of his body, leaving behind only tenderness. "Sweet girl…" Loki let out a heavy breath and sank into you, burying his face in your hair. "You're already doing it."

You stayed that way for a long time, with Loki breathing gently against your neck, his heavy weight balanced against you. You combed your fingers through his hair, detangling the mats, but unable to clear it of the dirt and blood.

"Poor prince," you said, "you need a bath."

You hadn't meant anything by it, but Loki groaned and stood, leaning heavily against the bed for support. You scrambled to your feet as well. When he started to strip off his armor, you stopped him with your hands over his. "Let me."

"Pet—"

"Please."

Loki made a pained sound deep in his chest. His arms fell to his sides. You undid his armor as gently as you could, fumbling with the unfamiliar fastenings and taking extra care not to jostle any part of his body. As you removed each piece, you folded it neatly and set it aside. When all the armor was discarded, he took a deep breath, a sliver of pain flashing in his eyes at the movement. You pressed your hand against his chest, eyes wide with worry as you looked at him.

"It's alright, love," Loki said. He placed his hand over yours and you felt his strong heartbeat under your palm.

"You're in pain."

"It will pass." He took your hand in his. "This way."

He led you to another room, an ornate bathroom. Smooth, white stone paved the floor, inlaid with silver where the edges joined. The flickering lights shifted over walls made of gold and glinted against countless mirrors. The floor sank into a pool with faucets on one side.

You left Loki at the door, busying yourself with filling the pool with warm water. You knelt at the edge, testing the water temperature with your fingertips. Did Loki have a preference? You liked your baths warmer…

Something tugged at a length of your hair and you twisted on your knees to see Loki looming over you. You stood in a hurry, hands going to him in concern. "Are you alright?"

"So strange," Loki said.

"What?"

"To have you here."

Your heart panged. "Do—do you want me to leave?"

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and tilted your chin up to him. "Never."

You swallowed and stepped away, afraid that you would fall into his eyes if you stared much longer. "Please." You indicated the bath. Loki stepped into it, relaxed against the side, and closed his eyes. You poured water through his hair and washed over his body in gentle strokes, carefully wiping away the accumulated dirt of the past dozen days.

When you saw the wound in Loki's side, you whined. It had been hastily mended, but looked painful and inflamed. You laid your palm over his shoulder, right above the jagged wound. Loki took your hand in his and kissed it. "It looks worse than it is, pet," he said.

"It looks terrible."

Loki stood, the water sloughing off him, and took the towel that you held in your hands. "Your compassion is wasted on me, sweet." Before you could stop him, he had dried himself off completely.

You took the towel from his hands. "That's not possible."

Loki bent to kiss you, a soft brush of lips. You pressed up into it, but he pulled away. Your heart ached at the distance, however small. Though you could see him standing in front of you, you felt as if he hadn't yet returned, like you would turn around and find him gone again. You needed to know he was there, whole and solid and safe. "Take me to bed," you said, looking up at him. The words welled out of you before you could stop them, but once they hung in the air between you, you didn't want to pull them back.

Loki looked at you with soft eyes and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "I haven't the energy to play our games now, pet. I don't want to fight with you—not even about something as wonderful as your body."

"No fighting," you said. "Please. I don't want that. Just—just—" you struggled to find the words for what you wanted. "Please. No games. I promise. No fighting. I'm all yours, just… Please." You nestled into him, wrapped your arms around his waist—careful not to squeeze—and laid your head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart settled you. Loki wrapped his arms over your shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. For a minute or so, he only held you.

"On the bed, sweet," he whispered into your hair.

You returned to the bedroom with Loki in tow and climbed into the middle of the bed. You pulled your knees to your chest, suddenly uncertain. You were out of your depth again, relying on Loki to provide all the direction. He stood at the edge of the bed, watching you like he was memorizing the scene. Déjà vu tingled at the back of your mind. Loki had done this before, drinking in the sight of you in his room, on his bed… as if he'd envisioned you this way. Your hands went to the pins in your hair, tugging them out and letting the strands fall loose around your shoulders.

Loki's eyes lit. "Smart girl." He joined you on the bed and kissed you, pressing you back against the pillows. You pulled back from him and your hands went to the corner clasp of your dress. Loki's hand stilled yours. "Not yet, love. We'll get to it."

You had expected Loki to lord his victory over you, finally winning his game. You also expected things to move quickly. Instead, time slowed around you. Every touch was gentle. He traced the lines of your dress, ran his hands through your hair. It was slow and easy, like this was all he planned to do—hold you close, cover you in kisses.

You almost didn't notice when Loki took off your clothes; the fabric simply gave way in the path of his caresses. He tossed them off the side of the bed without his lips ever leaving your skin.

Loki's hand ran up the inside of your leg and you moved to give him better access. You lapsed into sighs and moans, exhaling his name with every breath. Even this, even his fingers moving inside you, was slow and lazy. He made no attempt to drive you to madness as he had done so many times before.

"Please," you said.

"Not yet, love. We'll get to it."

Time slipped again, another blissful interlude with his fingers on you—in you—his mouth at your breast. Gentle, so gentle, unlike anything the two of you had done before. It was all sweet—the kisses, the touches, the words—no back and forth, no teasing.

Well, almost none. After all, it was in Loki's nature to play games.

As your desperation grew, you sensed that even this was a trick of his, somehow the delightful sweetness he was showering you with was carefully calculated. "Please," you said again. "Please. I asked. You already won. Please."

"I have to be sure what you asked for, sweet. There are so many things I can do to you like this. I have to know which one you want."

"You already know…"

"Try again."

You whined and reached for him. He stopped you. "No, pet. You have to say it. I'll make it easy for you. Just repeat after me." You looked up at him, transfixed in his gaze. "Loki," he prompted.

"Loki," you repeated.

"Please ravish me," he prompted again.

"Please…" you cut off, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You looked away, burying your face in the pillow.

"Come on, sweet." Loki's lips brushed over your cheek, like his words brushed over your body. "If it's what you want, there's nothing wrong with saying it."

"Please ravish me," you whispered.

He pressed a reverent kiss against your lips. "Anything the lady wants, she shall have."

He settled his hips between your legs and you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. A wave of anxiety rushed through you. Stars, you had no idea what you were doing. Would he even fit? Your fingers dug into his biceps. It would be okay. It would be okay. There was nothing to fear. It would be fine. Even if it hurt, it would be alright. It was fine, it was fine, it was—

Loki paused, poised at your entrance. "What is it, pet?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar."

You squeezed your eyes shut. "Will it hurt?" you asked. You didn't want to sound afraid, but the tremble in your voice betrayed you.

"No, sweet." Loki pressed soft kisses to the corners of your mouth, a soothing reassurance. "I have no intention of bringing you anything but pleasure. Look at me." You opened your eyes to find him staring down at you with unguarded affection. "Do you think I want to hurt you?"

"No." Stars, no, never that—

"You trust me to take care of you?"

"Yes."

"Good girl." He pushed inside you slowly. You gasped at the intrusion. It was a greater stretch than you'd thought and you tensed instinctively. Loki held you fast, but didn't stop. "You're alright, sweet. Your body knows what to do. Give yourself a chance." You whined, whole body taut like the strings of an instrument, waiting for the pain that must surely come with such an invasion. Loki pushed forward until he was fully inside you, then held the both of you in place, intimately entwined. "Relax, darling. I'm right here. I won't let you hurt." Loki stroked your hair from your face and peppered kisses over your skin. His voice wove through you, finding every nerve and soothing them all. Your body eased by inches. "There you go, darling," he said. He pulled back—a smooth slide—then thrust back in. This time, when your body tensed around him, it wasn't from anxiety. Your eyes slipped closed and your mouth fell open. He kissed your temple. "Remember to breathe, love."

Easy for Loki to say. It was like every intimate act you'd had with him so far, but magnified. It was the want and the heat and the heart of it, all the build-up—all the taunting and teasing and games—combined in one moment of just… rightness. He filled you like he was made for you. And when he started to move… Stars… Your world narrowed to just the sensations in your body, the pressure of Loki over you, the searing heat of his chest against yours.

"Good girl," he said as he twined his fingers through yours, stretching your arms over your head. "You feel so good, sweet."

Feeling Loki inside you—knowing that you were making him feel good as well—filled you with satisfaction. It was synchronicity. It was moving together, a feedback loop of pleasure.

Loki released your hands. His left hand slipped under your waist to raise your hips. For a few moments, the new angle made you see stars. Then the arm supporting Loki's weight shook and he winced.

All your attention flooded to him. "What's wrong?" You took his face in your hands.

Loki huffed a laugh, but he gritted his teeth. "Worry about yourself, pet."

"Are you in pain?"

"Darling, focus. Otherwise, I'll take offense."

"But—" You cut off with a cry as Loki thrust hard into you.

"That's what I wanted to hear." He let go of your hips, lowering himself to his elbows over you. "Wrap your legs around me."

You obeyed. Your body shifted to accommodate Loki from the new angle. You moaned and arched into him, urging him deeper. Each thrust pushed you higher, until you shook with the power of it. You clenched around his every move. He reached between you, rubbing your clit. A few slow, sure strokes later and you came undone. He kissed your neck as you rode out the aftershocks, the sound of your release echoing in the room around you.

When you fell back, loose and dazed, Loki chuckled. "You aren't done just yet, darling. Hang on to me." His hips snapped forward and you clutched at him—hands wrapped around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair—as if he were all that held you to the world. The new, fast pace chased out any lingering thought of the sweet, soft moments you had just shared, and instead gave you a taste for what could be: hard and fast, a punishing pace and sweet payoff.

But before Loki could build you back into wanting, he came with a shout, shuddering and tensing all around you. You held fast, body clenching around him as he pulsed inside you.

You let him go, first disentangling your hands from this hair, then your legs from his. He slid from you—placing three reverent kisses over your chest as he went—and rolled to your side. You followed him, needing the connection of his skin against yours. The room fell quiet in the aftermath, the only sound Loki's heavy breathing synchronized with yours.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Loki asked. He looked at you, a sinful expression camouflaged in innocence.

You flushed. "You know the answer."

"But I want you to tell me, sweet," he said. He wrapped himself around you, crushing you against him.

You squirmed and Loki's arms tightened like a vice. "Why should I tell you something you already know?" you asked.

"Pet, have pity," Loki said. He rubbed his face against your neck. "I've been injured. I'm in pain."

"You seem fine."

"I can hardly stand it. It hurts so terribly." His hands wandered down your body, cupping your ass and pulling you against him.

"You're making fun of me."

"I think I'm dying."

"You are not."

"Please, love. You were so worried when you came to see me. Indulge me just a little longer." Loki stroked his hand up your spine. "Was the surrender worth it?"

You burned and pressed your face against his chest. "Yes."

"Good girl." Loki's hands gentled and he kissed the top of your head. "There's one more thing I want from you, sweet," he said. You whined in protest and he chuckled. "Just one."

Loki pushed you around, first one way, then another, finally getting you half-leaning against the headboard. Then he laid between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and head rested on your stomach. He gave a great sigh and sagged against you, like a puppet with all its strings cut.

Oh.

So this was what Loki wanted. Just this. Just… to hold you. You stroked your fingers through his hair, petted his shoulders, murmured sweet nonsense to him as you did. His breathing evened out, deepened, and he fell completely lax against you.

Loki stayed there a while. Whether he was asleep or merely resting, you didn't know, but you didn't move from under him, keeping up a steady stream of affection. You traced the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. You brushed your fingertips over his eyebrows, nose, and lips. You braided and unbraided his hair. He gave no indication that he noticed any of your attentions, but remained wholly relaxed against you. Only when the sky outside darkened with the fading sunset, did he stir and finally release you to leave. Before you left, he pressed a soft kiss to your hand, your forehead, and your lips, then bid you goodbye.

Chapter Text

The library felt too… crowded lately. Not that there were any more people than usual, but you felt their eyes on you all the same. Which was ridiculous. There was no physical change in you whatsoever, no outward sign of any line crossed. No inward sign, either, for that matter. Yet here you were, hiding in your room.

It wasn't that you were avoiding Loki. You just didn't want to see him yet. You needed a moment—a minute—to get your head on straight, to put yourself back in order and address if something fundamental had changed. And if it was something that you wanted to happen again. After everything you'd done with Loki… You couldn't be the only one who'd been pleased with the way your bodies had moved together. Stars, the thought of his hands holding yours as he thrust inside you still made you shiver.

Don't forget to breathe, love.

You shook yourself and pulled your book (A History of Asgardian Fabric Production) into your lap. It didn't matter; you weren't dealing with Loki right now. You would handle that headache when you reached it. You flipped to the chapter where you had left off.

Your eyes followed the letters on the page, looking, but hardly comprehending. In fact, the symbols almost seemed to move in the candlelight. You pulled the page closer to your face. What in all the stars…?

The ink on the paper transformed into a flood of beetles that spilled over the pages. You dropped the book with a shriek and shot off the couch, brushing desperately at your skin and clothes to remove the insects. A few panicked seconds later, you stood in the middle of your floor, heart pounding as if it could escape. When you looked back to the couch, the book laid open, but no trace of the beetles remained. None anywhere, though there had been hordes of them only seconds before. They had been there—right there! Unless… they hadn't.

"Loki," you hissed.

"You called?" Loki captured your face in his hands and pulled you up for a crushing kiss before you could react.

You shoved him away. "I didn't call; I cursed."

He drew you back to him, his hands snaking around your waist. "And yet, I get the same result."

"That was a terrible trick."

"Poor sweet." He nuzzled at your throat. "I can feel your heart race. Were you frightened?"

"Why do you enjoy tormenting me?"

"I love to see all sorts of expressions on that lovely face of yours." He bumped his nose against yours. "I keep finding new ones."

You shoved against his chest with no effect. "Leave me be."

"What will you give me if I do?"

"Nothing you'll enjoy."

His face split in a smile. "Such threats, little spitfire." He released you and took your space on the couch. "Shall we see where they lead?" He lounged across the cushions, picked up your book, and flipped through a few pages. "This seems dreadfully dull."

"I find it interesting."

"I suppose you would." Loki looked up at you, a heated stare that made your breath catch. "You do have so many varied interests." How could he make even that innocuous statement sound like a filthy secret? He winked at you and turned back to consider the pages in front of him. "I suppose this could be entertaining, since it comes so highly recommended..."

"You just called it dull. You don't even want to read it."

"Of course I don't." He snapped it shut and held it out to you. "I want you to read it to me."

"What?"

"Read it to me."

"Yes, I heard you."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Why should I read it to you?"

"Because I told you to."

You snorted and crossed your arms over your chest. "Not likely."

"Oh, spitfire." The warning in Loki's voice snapped your attention back to him. A chill swept through the air and the hair rose on your arm. His face had set into a hard scowl. "Do be careful. I am very tolerant toward you, but I needn't be. A simple truth remains between us. I'll do as I please and you'll do as you're told." An icy tingle crept down your spine. Your feet stuck to the floor as if you faced down a snake ready to strike. He held the book out to you once again. "Be good, pet. I haven't made the command difficult… but I can." You swallowed and took the book from his hands. Before you could retreat, he captured your wrist and pulled you forward, tipping you off balance so you tumbled on top of him on the couch. "You should have followed my instructions when they were given." He tilted your chin up to him and pressed a bruising kiss to your lips, ending it with a sharp bite. "Or you shouldn't have avoided me in the first place."

Your breath hitched. He'd noticed. Of course he'd noticed. He sat against the cushions, legs splayed wide and you settled between them—trapped by his arms around your waist—staring up at him with wide eyes.

"Play nice, pet," he whispered. His voice dropped to the tone that swept through you like the tide. "You know how kind I can be when you satisfy me, but you've never truly seen my displeasure." Only the book trapped between you stopped the thunderous beat of your heart from betraying your fear to him. You dropped your gaze from his, shifted, and opened the book with shaking hands. Loki gentled, stroking the backs of his fingers down your arms and sides. "See, sweet? You have such a talent for pleasing me." He relaxed back against the cushions, keeping his arms tight around you.

You read aloud, your voice filling the small space of your room. Loki's eyes drifted shut. His fingers traced every seam in your dress and every inch of exposed skin. He ran his hands through your hair—pressing a single curl to his lips in the sweetest kiss—then moved to your neck and shoulders, tracing small circles that did nothing but leave tiny flames in their wake. He forced you to shift around him as he took one hand in his. He kissed your knuckles and licked a stripe over your wrist that made you gasp and pull back.

"I didn't tell you to stop reading, pet." Loki didn't look to you, still intent on his examination of your hand.

"I—" Your words dissolved in your throat when Loki took one of your fingers into his mouth. He sucked and the velvet of his tongue stroked up your finger. A powerful wave of want swept through you.

He released your hand, giving a sharp bite to the tip of your finger. "Don't get distracted," Loki said and his eyes finally landed on you.

How were you supposed to manage that when Loki's only goal seemed to be your distraction? You found your voice somewhere in the back of your mind, hidden away with all your reason and decency. "You aren't even listening."

"Of course I am. I could repeat every word verbatim if you'd like." He nipped at the sensitive skin on the inside of you wrist. "Read."

You swallowed and returned to the book. For a while, Loki settled back into his touches and you sank back to the comfortable familiarity of the chapter, actually letting yourself absorb the words as you said them. It was a short-lived peace.

Loki's leisurely exploration next led him to the curve of your ass and you forgot how to speak entirely, stumbling over familiar words. This didn't seem to bother him as he continued undisturbed. He pulled you onto his lap. His lips went to your neck next, an unreasonable distraction as you tried to concentrate again on what you were saying. He worried your neck even as his hands squeezed and kneaded at your buttocks.

A game, you told yourself as you tried to place one word after another, it's just one of his games. The goal was to keep reading while he drove you to distraction. You would only play to his vanity by acknowledging his efforts. You only won if you ignored him.

Which was absolutely impossible.

Loki wrapped one arm around your back, pulling you forward until you kneeled over him, body pressed all against his. His other hand cradled the back of your head, holding you still as he kissed your neck. His teeth scrapped over the hinge of your jaw and he licked the hollow of your throat—where he'd left his mark weeks ago, now long faded. It melted your insides.

Your eyes slipped closed and the book drooped in your hand. Too late, you realized just how vulnerable you'd left yourself to him. He sucked hard against your pulse and you recoiled, coming up against the unmoving barrier of his hands. You cursed and struggled in his grasp, but remained his prisoner until he'd completed his objective and stroked his tongue over the spot in a last caress. His hands gentled so you could pull away.

"Not again," you said, looking to him incredulously. "It just faded."

"I know." Loki nuzzled at the spot. "I neglected to give you something new the other night." He took a deep breath and pressed a gentle kiss against the skin. "Read, love."

His renewed teasing reignited your doused fury. "You don't really want me to."

"I want all sorts of things from you. It isn't your business to question them." He ran his hand up your front to cup your breast. You gasped when he squeezed. "Read, pet, or I'll give you something else to do with your mouth."

Your heart stopped. The vision you'd once had—you naked on your knees before him—returned in full force. Yes, please.

Loki watched you, head cocked to the side, then pulled you into a thorough kiss. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming you as his. You moaned into it, melting against him. The book dropped to the floor with a thunderous thump. You slid your hand between the two of you, rubbing front of his pants. He broke away with a grin. "I only meant the kiss. What did you have in mind?"

Well… he did ask.

You gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him into a crushing kiss. He responded in kind. The world boiled around you, the air thick as water. You grasped for every part of Loki you could reach. You ran your hands over his clothes, then under, until he finally relented and shed his shirt. Your dress followed soon after. Then his pants. In the end, you both ended up breathless and pressed together. Yet Loki kept your hands decidedly higher than you'd like.

"Please," you said, "I want to touch you."

"You were so very defiant earlier." Loki turned your hand over, examining the way your fingers laced through his. "I'm not sure if you can be trusted to do as you're told." He looked at you through long lashes, humor sparkling in his eyes though his expression didn't betray it. How did he do that? How could he look so regal and composed, yet have so much humor lurking underneath?

The only way forward was to play along. You sank against him, going soft and pliant in his hands. "Won't you let me atone for my actions?" you asked. You tucked your face against his neck, ran your fingers down his chest. "Please?"

Loki's chest rumbled in a laugh. "You are such a terrible actress, pet." He stroked his thumb over your cheek. "But I appreciate the attempt. On your knees."

Triumph sparked through you. You slid off him and to the floor. Loki stood in front of you and stroked one hand through your hair, tipping your face up. Your eyes met his, blown dark with desire. He looked as if he had every intention of devouring you. His hand went around his cock and gave a few lazy strokes. Your mouth went dry.

Loki stepped to the side, circled you, his fingers never really leaving the skin of your shoulders as he made his examination. The ground disappeared from under you. This… was not what you'd thought would happen. He stopped behind you and you suppressed a shiver, feeling suddenly very vulnerable with Loki standing at your back. Once again, he had all the advantages. He knelt behind you, hands sliding down your arms and circling your wrists. The searing heat of his chest pressed all down your back, the evidence of his arousal hard against your backside.

"You remember the rules, love?"

Rules? A wave of anxiety swept through you. When had Loki given you rules? You wracked your memories, heart taking up a panicked rhythm when you failed to come up with anything.

Loki skimmed kisses against the back of your neck, waiting, seemingly unconcerned with your hesitation. You took a steadying breath. Loki played games, but he never set you up to fail. He never asked a question when he hadn't given you the answer. Rules, rules… The steady pressure of his hands around your wrists felt so familiar. How many times had he done this—placed you exactly how he wanted?

Oh. Of course.

You licked your lips. "Hands stay where you put them."

"Smart girl." He tugged your wrists down, bending you forward and setting your palms against the ground. Your ass pressed against him and you lost all train of thought. Stars, yes, please. Loki's voice brought you back. "What else?"

You shivered. "Don't do anything without permission."

"Well said, kitten." He petted soothing strokes down your back then finally set his hands on your hips. The head of his cock teased against your entrance and you whined, balling your hands into fists against the plush carpet.

"Please," you gasped.

"You're being very good, sweet." He leaned over you to kiss your shoulder and his cock pressed into you by inches—a maddening tease, nothing more. "Good girls can have whatever they want. Just tell me."

Not this game. Loki wouldn't make you beg this time. "Whatever you want," you said.

You felt him smile against your back. "A good answer, but one that you might regret giving."

He pulled out and you whined at the loss. You pushed your hips back in his hands and his grip tightened, forcing you to stay in place.

"Remember the rules, love." Loki pressed into you again, a slow stretch that wound you higher, but didn't satisfy. "Is there something you wanted me to do?"

Yes. You wanted hard and fast. You wanted the heat and passion that you'd only gotten a taste of last time. You wanted him to make you fall apart. But—damn it—you wanted him to want it too. You swore.

Loki stopped, too busy laughing to torment you further. A hand smoothed your hair over one shoulder. "That was a new reaction, sweet. Not quite what I expected. Anything else you'd like to say?"

You fisted your hands into the carpet, but didn't speak.

"I can't give you want you want if you don't ask."

You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip. You wouldn't say it. Loki wanted this as much as you did and you were going to make him admit it.

"You're so stubborn, spitfire." He eased back, barely inside you anymore. "Why do this to yourself?"

Your arms shook under you and you dropped lower so your chest pressed against the floor, hips held up by Loki's hands—almost like you were praying. The feel of him inside you changed and everything else in the world went away. Loki groaned and his hips snapped forward.

"Please don't stop," you said. "Please. It feels so good."

Loki cursed, but moved faster, finally matching the passion you'd wanted. Your walls clenched around him, urging him deeper. You muffled your cries into the carpet, body tensing each time Loki's hips snapped forward. Hands still firmly where he planted them, hips securely in his grip, you couldn't do anything but whimper into the ground and tell Loki just how amazing every movement made you feel.

"You're going to do something for me now, pet," Loki said, his voice breathless.

You whined, shuddering against the floor.

"Are you listening?" He pulled you back against him hard and you gasped, hands tightening until you could feel your fingernails dig into your palms.

"Yes," you said. "Anything, yes."

"Touch yourself."

Your mind spun. But—was that… What?

"Do that for me, sweet, and you can come whenever you like."

Your hand shook as you reached between your legs. Loki never relented, pounding into you. His fingers dug into the skin of your hips, nearly painful. Loki pulled you back, pushed into you hard, hitting the very center of you with each stroke. His panting and groaning above you spurred you on. You rubbed circles over your clitoris, whining into the ground.

The sensations rebounded over each other and combined to fill you. You hung over the precipice by a thread, pleasure swelling until you cried out with it. Your body tensed, wracked with the spasms of your climax. Only Loki's grip held you in place. He followed you over the edge a few moments later, coming with a shout that filled the room.

The silence that followed seemed suffocating. Loki slid from you and let you curl into a ball on the floor. You panted against the carpet, waiting for your heart to explode.

"Come on, pet." Loki looped one hand under your knees and the other behind your back and stood with you in his arms. He resettled on the couch and laid you across him, head over his heart and legs tangled with his. He picked up your book and held it in one hand, the other wrapping around your waist. He picked up where you'd left off. His voice wrapped around you, weaving with his warmth and scent to hold you in place more than even his arms could. His free hand stroked over you, your arms, your back, your neck. You didn't comprehend his words, but you hung onto the sound of his voice as if it was your only lifeline.

After a while, he set the book aside in favor of simply holding you.

"You're so sweet when you're like this, pet."

"Like what?"

"Sated." The word sent a shiver through you. "You turn into such an angel when I've satisfied you."

"No, I don't," you said, but you snuggled closer to him, completely betraying your words.

"So quiet and composed when you wander loose about the palace, but all fight and fire when I get you alone. And after… you positively melt. It's delightful." Loki took your hand in his and kissed the tip of each finger. "Like taming a wild creature."

"I'm not wild," you said, half-dozing against him, "and you haven't tamed me."

"Give it time, sweet." He pressed your palm to his cheek. "I'll have you eating out of my hand."

You smiled at the vision that conjured: licking honey from Loki's fingers, the taste as sweet as his skin. Perhaps that would be something you'd like, after all.

Chapter Text

It was going to snow tonight. You could feel it in the air. Clouds roiled overhead, churning over each other. A crisp energy swirled with the wind, the leashed power of a storm frozen and forced into soft flakes rather than pounding rain. The sky was waiting to fall… waiting and waiting… and the world held its breath.

Asgard did not. The palace burned with life and chaos, a defiant contrast with the serenity outside the walls. You sat at one end of a long table, gaze fixed to the window on the far end of the hall. Near you, Thor stood, the tale he told—a battle on Midgard many years past—demanding a dramatic flair that sitting could not accommodate. You listened with one ear, with your hands clasped around a mug of mulled wine and your thoughts on the gathering clouds.

You could watch the snow from your room, but your windows looked out on the courtyard, hardly a breathtaking view. The library overlooked the gardens, but if the snow lasted into the next day (as you thought it would), you would see that sight in the morning. Perhaps the baths? But you wouldn't be the only person to think of that. The breathtaking vista of the forest would draw its fair share of attention, even in the frigid temperatures. Memories of the baths brought to mind another option.

My chambers are warm.

No.

There's a fire, blankets.

No. Absolutely not.

You'd be more than welcome there.

No, no, no. You would not ask Loki to watch the snow from his room—for a lot of reasons (very good ones!). Most importantly, because you wouldn't end up watching the snow at all. Loki would tempt you into his bed. Again. And then… probably again. As enticing as that prospect was, it wasn't the point. The snow was.

Raucous laughter around the table startled you from your reverie. You returned the smile that Fandral wore when you caught his eye, pretending, for a moment, that you had actually paid attention to what was going on around you. Thor drained the tankard that he held then shouted for his companions to join him in whatever adventure he had proposed while you had been lost in yourself. The table emptied, friends drifting away together, no longer held by the gravity of Thor's personality. You, too, prepared to leave.

Heavy hands settled on your shoulders and you startled.

"Meet me in my rooms tonight," Loki whispered in your ear.

You felt the blood drain from your face. You scanned the room, sure someone saw you, but no one looked your way.

"Why?" you asked, trying to squirm out from under his grasp without seeming as if you were doing so.

"Because I want you there." He left before you could reply, disappearing into the crowd.

Stars…

#

Was there some formal way to say that you had been summoned to a room (where you were not supposed to be) by a man (whom you were not supposed to be seeing) for an activity (that you were not supposed to be doing)? Because, depending on how you described it, your evening plans could be considered anything from indiscretion to treason.

You raised your hand to knock, but the door opened before your knuckles met the wood. Loki tugged you inside, closed the door, then pressed you against it in a kiss.

Oh. Okay. Well, you had expected this. Maybe not so… quickly… but that was why you were here, right?

Before you could regain your bearings, he pulled away. "This way, sweet."

You took a moment to find your feet and stumbled after him. Only his hand at your elbow kept you upright. You stopped short when you noticed cushions and blankets piled on the floor by the balcony. "What happened?"

"Go sit." He gave you a push toward the huge pane doors and the mound of pillows in front of them. You watched him as you stepped forward, cautious step by cautious step, but he had moved on, hurrying around the room, bringing more cushions, more blankets, setting two mugs of mulled wine nearby. You sank to the floor and the nest of blankets claimed you.

"What are you—?"

"Hush."

"But—"

"It's going to snow, love," Loki said. His voice thrummed with excitement. A tingle of electric energy flowed from him into you.

He spent the next few minutes rearranging you and the blankets, fussing over every detail until he sat behind you with you between his spread legs, held against his chest. He wrapped a trio of furs around the two of you, sealing in the heat from your bodies.

Then, just quiet. Not silence. The fire still crackled, spreading its warmth and scent through the room. The trees far beyond swayed and the wind carried the sound of their rustling branches to you. Loki's deep, even breaths met your ears.

You watched the darkness outside the balcony, still and quiet, as if waiting for a wild animal in the woods. Time itself seemed to stop. You felt, rather than heard, Loki's heartbeat and you counted each thump as it passed from his body into yours.

Loki's arms tightened around you. "Look." He pointed to the top left corner of the window. A single, white, speck floated into existence from the black. Then another. Then millions more.

Your breath caught in your throat. From Loki's balcony, you could see all of Asgard spread out before you. Thousands of lights twinkled in the darkness, the glow catching on the snowflakes as they fell. Each glinted and danced, swirling in the soft wind until it found its resting place. In the distance, the mountains jutted up in steep relief, their jagged edges cutting the darkness.  They boasted white caps almost year round, but in the morning, all but the sharpest cliffs would be softened with snow.

"Do you like it?" Loki asked.

"It's wonderful."

He kissed your temple, lips lingering against your skin, then rested his chin over your shoulder, watching with you as the world grew hazy through the snowstorm. The white swirled in ever increasing masses, obscuring first the mountains, then the city, then everything past the edge of the balcony, sealing you in the room. With nothing beyond the windows but soft snow and darkness, you felt the most curious sensation, as if the universe ended outside the confines of the walls. You were here with Loki and there was nothing else at all in the world. Nothing but the room and the snow, you and Loki.

But… that wasn't true. And you shouldn't be thinking of it in the first place. No matter how warm the fire, how soft the blankets, how familiar Loki's embrace, you weren't alone here. A world existed outside the comfort of this space-a kingdom. One that would not look kindly on… whatever this was.

Tension welled inside you, like your heart had tangled with your lungs, cutting off both your breath and heartbeat. How could you sit here in Loki's rooms (in Loki's arms) and be at ease? Perhaps no one knew now. Perhaps no one would catch you this time. But what of the next? Or the next? Stars, what would happen once they did?

"What's wrong, love?" Loki murmured the words into your hair and the chaos from your mind ground to a halt.

Without realizing it, you had clung to Loki like he was your only anchor, your fingers digging into the skin of his arms. You let go. "I'm sorry." You tried to stand, as if the distance would make anything clearer.

Loki stopped your retreat, holding you tight about your waist and keeping you firmly on the floor. "I asked for an explanation, not an apology. Try again."

"I—" You snapped your mouth shut, certain there was no good way to convey your thoughts. You shook your head, resigned to face Loki's anger at your defiance rather than his annoyance at your uncertainty.

You received neither.

Loki sighed and his arms gentled around you. "Come here, pet." When you resisted, he stopped you. "Be sweet, love—just for a few minutes—then you can do whatever you wish." He pulled you around to face him. You wound up straddled over his hips. He took your chin in his fingers and forced you to face him. "What has you tied all in knots?" he asked.

You shook your head and dropped your gaze. "Nothing."

"That's not true. Your sweet little mind is always turning over something." Loki traced the line of your neck with the backs of his fingers and you struggled to swallow through the lump in your throat. "You think so much. It gets you into all sorts of trouble." He rested his forehead against yours. If you looked, you'd drown in his gaze, so you squeezed your eyes firmly shut. "Tell me, love," he said. His voice wound you around his fingers, unravelling your resolve. Loki could talk a tree into kneeling before him and you were much less sturdy than that. "Whatever it is, I'll ease it from your mind."

"You can't."

"Have faith, pet. I can do all sorts of things." Loki took your face in his hands and stroked over your cheeks with his thumbs. "Poor sweet. You run yourself in circles with all your worrying." He kissed the tip of your nose. "We were having a wonderful time." Your heart ached as he kissed each of your eyelids. Stars, please let him not notice how badly that made you want to cry. "You were being so lovely for me," he murmured, lips skimming over your cheek, "as still as the stars. I couldn't have asked for anything better."

Despite your resolution, your eyes opened. And like that, you were lost to him.

"Good girl," Loki said, combing his fingers through the loose strands of your hair (when had he let your hair down?). "Tell me what's wrong. I'll make it all right."

"I shouldn't be here," you said, voice small.

You expected annoyance—after all, it was the same conversation rehashed—but Loki hummed and pressed your hand to his cheek. "How could that be? You want to be here."

"Because I'm—" You struggled to find the words, distracted by the way Loki gentled at your touch. With his eyes closed, face rested against your palm, he looked as if all he wanted was the stay that way forever. Stars, it made you want that too. "I—"

"You're engaged to Thor," he finished for you. He opened his eyes again and you were struck with how very soft they looked. Not sharp. Not angry.

You nodded.

"You fear what my brother might do."

You shook your head. For all his faults, you had never feared Thor.

"Then, what Odin might do?"

Not… not quite. It wasn't so simple as that. There was no specific punishment that you dreaded. But your position in Asgard, your whole life, depended on your engagement. If that were to disappear… what would happen to you? You shook your head.

The corners of Loki's mouth pulled down in the smallest of frowns. His eyes turned hard again. "Tell me, pet, have you thought of what I might do?"

Your body went cold. You pulled back, but Loki's grip on your arms—painfully tight—kept you from moving far. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

"Behave," Loki said, voice smooth as glass and just as sharp. "Just a minute more." Loki pulled your head forward so it rested in the curve of his neck and petted soothing stripes down your back, but it did nothing to relax you. You recognized the chill of leashed anger that radiated from him. "Do you think me so heartless that I would stand by if you were threatened?"

"No."

"Too weak then, to do anything to stop it?"

"No. I—"

"Then what is it you fear?"

Your heart answered before you could stop it. "Everything," you whispered. You didn't say any more and you hoped Loki didn't see all that you meant.

You thought of him more often than not now. You'd unraveled in his absence and run for him the moment he'd returned. You had come here tonight with no protest, with hardly any prompting. And in all of this, nothing about your situation had changed. Thor had not. Nor had Loki. Certainly, your fate hadn't. Only you had.

Unless you shifted paths, you faced only one outcome: eventually, all would abandon you and you would bear the suffocating solitude alone. It was as if you had one hand around your heart, slowly ripping it from your chest, and you didn't even have the discipline to stop.

So… what were you to do now? Stop seeing Loki? It was what you knew you needed to do from the start. Yet, the thought of leaving now made you want to cry.

"Look at me, sweet," Loki said, his voice dropped to the coaxing tone you could never resist. You glanced up. His eyes roamed every inch of your face, brow furrowed as if solving a puzzle. You felt tears gather, though you willed them back with all your mind. Stars… your heart must be in your eyes. "You are—" He stopped, swallowed, opened his mouth as if to start again, then seemed to think better of it and shook his head.

"I said I would let you do whatever you willed," he said, his voice suddenly distant. He disentangled himself from you and stood with a sigh, pulling you up by your arm. "You may go."

You looked up at him with wide eyes. "What?" The sudden change in atmosphere threw you off balance.

He waved toward the door. "I won't keep you any longer. Go on, little rabbit. You may run."

You caught his hand when he went to step away. "I—" I don't want to run. The words stilled on your tongue. You couldn’t say that. Not to Loki. Not when you'd admitted that you feared everything he represented to you. Loki watched you with his patient, unwavering gaze, not leaving, but not returning to you either. He gave no indication of what went on behind the serene mask of his face. "Please don't make me."

"I won't make you do anything, pet." He stepped close enough that you could feel his warmth. "I cannot change your circumstances and I will not accept blame if you wish to place it on me. I will do what I can to ease your fears, but they are yours alone. You may stay or go, but you must choose now."

You swallowed, but Loki stopped you before you could speak.

"Careful, pet. Decisions have consequences."

Your tongue wet your bottom lip. Loki's eyes followed the motion. "Please," you said.

He tipped your face up to him. "Please what?"

"Please, may I stay?"

He dropped his mouth to yours for a kiss. "Brave girl," he murmured against your lips when he pulled away.

He laid back against the cushions and tugged you to follow him. You rested over his chest, hearing the thump of his heart with every beat. His hands traced the line of your spine through your dress.

You turned your attention back to the windows and the still gathering snow. You would need to be wary from now on of coming in Loki's rooms. The more time you spent there, the more you felt that you never wanted to leave.

Chapter Text

Loki was handsome while he slept. Of course, he was handsome all the time, but there was something about the way he looked while dreaming that struck you as utterly different.

Maybe it was the way his lips parted just a tiny bit with each breath. Maybe it was how his long, dark lashes rested against his cheeks. Maybe it was that, for once, you could be sure that he wasn't somehow laughing at you. Whatever it was, you didn't think you could be blamed for admiring.

The sun took its dear, sweet time in rising that morning since the clouds blocked the light from breaking. Instead, the world lightened by inches, slowly fading from black to grey. And still the snow fell. You lay at Loki's side, his scent and warmth surrounding you every bit as much as the pillows and blankets.

It wasn't often that you woke before Loki. He seemed to delight in rousing you (and looking back on his many successful attempts at doing so, you could understand why). Catching him in this vulnerable state was a rarity. So, it wasn't that you were intending to seduce him; it started more as a sort of… experiment.

You pressed a soft kiss against his jaw, barely a brush of lips against skin. Loki didn't respond. You ran your hand over his side—ribs to hip—then back up again, finding the smooth skin under his shirt. Still nothing.

Hm.

You traced the lines on his abdomen with your fingertips, then kissed his neck, slow and leisurely, and swirled your tongue over his pulse.

"Go back to sleep, kitten." Loki's voice was thick. You glanced up at him. He regarded you with a sort of lazy amusement.

You ran your hand down the length of his torso, teasing at the waist of his pants. "But I'm already awake."

Loki groaned and wrapped you tightly in his arms, effectively ending your exploration. "Sweet vixen. I never can trust you to behave."

"As if you are in any position to accuse me."

Loki ignored your comment and instead rolled on top of you, trapping you under him and spreading your legs with his thigh. "If I take my eyes from you for a moment, you cause such trouble." He worried your neck with his teeth. "I think you do it to gain my attention."

"I would never," you said, but you had absolutely melted in his hands. You lifted your chin to bare your neck to him. "I could do without your attention."

"Such a little liar. You know you can't deceive me. Shall I tell you just how I know you're lying?" Loki's hand went between your legs and only the fabric of your dress kept him from pressing his fingers inside you. He stopped and propped himself up on his elbow to scowl at you. "You're still dressed."

"So are you," you said.

"You should be naked."

"That's hardly my fault."

"You distracted me last night." He nuzzled under your jaw. "Take off your clothes."

You stretched, rolling your hips against him and feeling the press of his erection against your thigh. "You first."

He bit the edge of your ear, a tiny punishment, then whispered his next words. His voice dropped, becoming dark and low and utterly inescapable. "Strip, love, or I'll tear that dress from you in shreds and you'll return to your room naked."

A tingle rushed down your spine, igniting every nerve in your body. You pushed at Loki's shoulder and he rolled to pull you on top of him. Your heart thumped at the sight of him laid back, gazing up at you with heated appreciation. You swallowed, sat up to straddle him, and tugged your dress over your head, tossing it further away.

"Good girl." Loki sat up, running his hand up your body from hip to breast as he did. "See what happens when you do what I say?" He squeezed one breast in his hand and took the nipple of the other in his mouth.

You moaned. "I get in trouble when I do what you say."

Loki's mouth left your breast in favor of the hollow of your shoulder. His hand went once again to the juncture of your legs, rubbing at the folds and spreading the wetness there. "If it's such trouble, then do you want me to stop?"

"Stars, no," you gasped. You tangled your fingers in his hair. "Please."

Loki slid two fingers inside you and your head fell back, eyes closed. You let him play with you, tease you higher until you saw sparks.

"You're still wearing clothes," you said, struggling to focus.

Loki let go only long enough to pull his shirt over his head, then returned his attention to you. Your hands went to the front of his pants. He laughed against your skin at your fumbling attempts, making your task even harder by distracting you. By the time you managed to undress him, you were both a breathless mess. Loki loomed over you, humor sparkling in his eyes.

"What do you want?" you asked.

Loki leaned down so he could say the words into your ear. "I want to fuck you so hard that all you remember is my name."

Your mouth went dry and you had to swallow so you could speak. "Yes, please."

Loki grinned. "You're getting so brave, little one." He pulled you into a thorough kiss. Your head spun, stuck somewhere between being absolutely absorbed by Loki and never coming up for air.

The pillows scattered, leaving your back against the cold ground. You arched, gasping against the chill, and Loki plunged into you. There was nothing slow, no teasing, no taunts or asking or pleading. Loki pounded into you, hitting the very center of you with each stroke. The contrast of the cold, unforgiving floor and the searing heat of his body as he claimed you drove out any coherent thought. You scrambled for your logic and reason, anything that wasn't yes, please, more, yes.

"It's alright, sweet," Loki said. "I'll guide you back when it's time. You can let go."

So… you did.

The world floated away, leaving you with Loki and everything he made you feel, which, at the moment, was more than you could handle at once. Sensations flowed through you—one moment he bit at your shoulder until you cried out, the next he kissed you senseless, the next he pinned your hips against the ground and somehow managed to go both harder and deeper.

You followed his every motion, met it with your own. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, fingernails dug into his skin. You panted against his neck, eyes closed, hanging on to him as if you could never let go.  

"How are you, sweetheart?"

You whined, unable to find your way to words through the haze of your mind.

Loki chuckled over you. "Open your eyes, love. I want to watch you finish."

You looked up at him. He was so handsome—an absolute vision—brow furrowed as he loomed over you, green eyes shining out from his face, the traces of a smile on his lips. It was a look that you'd only ever seen here, when he was with you. Suddenly, all you wanted in the world was to make him happy.

"Loki," you said. You brought up one hand and set it against his cheek. "Please. I want you to finish. Please, Loki."

His eyes widened, a miniscule change that only you could notice, inches away as you were. He set one hand against the ground and took up long, hard strokes that had you crying out, eyes falling closed again.

"Eyes on me," Loki said, voice rough. "I want you looking only at me."

You obeyed, far past the point of denying him anything he asked. Your eyes locked with his. His breath turning ragged with each thrust. Fixed in his gaze, drowning in emerald, you saw the moment he toppled over the edge. A flash of gold took over the green in his eyes and he came with a shout.

There was a moment of stillness as Loki caught his breath, then he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you up to kiss him. His hips moved—moving him inside you, rocking against your clit, and sending you over the edge. You moaned into the kiss and he swallowed the sound, sweeping his tongue into your mouth. He held you tightly all through your climax, only relaxing his grip when you slumped against him.

Loki rolled, taking you with him so you laid across his chest. You snuggled into him and he pulled a blanket over the both of you. "Sweet girl," he murmured into your hair, lips catching against the strands. "You were wonderful, darling. So good for me." You rubbed your nose against his shoulder, melting at his words. He stroked his hands down your sides and petted over your hips where they were cradled in his. His soft voice and whispered praise carried you away, only his touch keeping you in the room.

When you came back, you lay on your side, facing Loki. One of his hands stroked idly down your arm and he twined his fingers through yours. He brought them to his lips and kissed each in turn. You stared. It was… different from any expression you'd seen on him before—like every thread of tension had left his face.

"What are you thinking?" you asked before your good sense could stop the words.

He looked to you, surprise written over his face.

You flushed. Stars, what an impertinent question. "You just—you look so… I just wondered." Your voice finished small and shy. You looked down, feeling embarrassment sweep through you. Why did you always do this? Every time you were with him, you forgot all propriety.

Loki tipped your chin so you looked at him. "I'm deciding whether I'd rather release you to go on your way or tie you to my bed and never let you leave."

Your heart forgot to beat. That sounded… Stars…

Loki's face lit with delight and mischief in equal measure. His voice dropped to a purr. "Would you like that, pet?"

Oh no. You'd done it again.

Loki pulled you closer, one hand circling your wrist like a shackle and the other going to the small of your back. "How unexpected. My little bird, always trying to fly away… I never suspected that a tether would appeal to you."

"I didn't say—"

"Not with your words, no." He leaned his forehead against yours.

"I—"

"I should have known. You responded in such an extraordinary manner when you were at my mercy before."

You burned at the memory. Only his words had held your hands, yet… "That's not—" You buried your face against his chest to hide the shame written all over your expression. You'd loved it. You had loved knowing that there was nothing for you to do wrong, that all his attention was focused on you, that he would take care of you.

"You cried and you begged me and all this time I never realized I've been neglecting something you—"

"Stars, stop!" You shrank against him, angry at his teasing, yet seeking comfort from him all the same. "It's humiliating," you mumbled against his skin.

"Oh, sweet." His fingers stroked down your spine, then back up again. "Humiliating? How?" He pulled you away from him so you could see him. "Never be ashamed of something you want." He kissed the tip of your nose. "You don't have to do anything, sweet. Think about it." He ran the backs of his knuckles along your temple. His eyes heated your skin everywhere they touched. "Give it your thorough consideration, love. You know how I love to indulge your fantasies." You shivered and Loki pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin and tangling your legs together.

Chapter Text

A servant waited outside your room, hands twisting over each other in front of her. You slowed and stopped, still paces away from your door. Had it finally happened? Had someone noticed all the mornings your sheets remained undisturbed?

"Miss," the woman said, her hands dropping to her side. Relief flooded her face, but worry quickly chased it out. "We couldn't find you."

Your heart surged. Of course they couldn't find you. You'd spent all morning with Loki—all the previous night as well. "What is it?"

"Your mother, miss. She's taken ill."

Time seemed to stop. You rushed out of the hall, skimming through shortcuts to reach your mother's room. The journey was a blur, as were the words of the doctor who explained your mother's condition to you. How long had she been this way? How serious was her illness? What could be done? Would she recover?

No one knew. They gave you consolations and reassurances, but underneath lurked the trepidation of uncertainty.

Hours passed. Doctors went in, doctors came out. No one gave you new information. More time, more doctors, more frustration. You couldn't help, you couldn't even see your mother—her condition was too precarious. You watched paths of light stream through the window and cross the floor with the path of the sun. You sat on the floor in the hallway with your knees pulled up to your chest. Your mind was a maze of guilt and uncertainly. No matter where you directed your thoughts, all you could conclude was that this was your fault. You had disappeared when your mother needed you. No one would have thought to look for you in Loki's rooms. And why should they have? You weren't supposed to be there. If you had been with your mother instead, if you had been reachable, if you had been… been… anything, perhaps this wouldn't have happened.

"Miss, please." A nurse knelt in front of you—the same who had crossed your path all day—and set her hand on your shoulder. "There is nothing you can do here. You should get some rest."

"But—" You looked over your shoulder at the closed door, then back to the nurse with tear-filled eyes.

"She will be here in the morning," she said. "It won't do for you to drive yourself into illness waiting for her."

Drive yourself into illness… True, you were sick with worry, but how was suffering in your room any help for that? All that would change was that the staff would no longer have to see your misery. And perhaps… that was why she had asked.

Each step back to your room weighed against you as if the stone floor pulled at your feet. You didn't bother with lights when you entered, letting the shadows have every corner they liked. The sun had barely set, but you trudged to your bed anyway, hauling your body forward as if it were an empty shell attached to your spirit by strings.

You pulled back the covers to find a note nestled on your pillow. In the last dregs of the evening light, you just made out the elegant loops of Loki's handwriting.

Be in my room tonight.

A wave of agony rose through your throat, guilt so thick you couldn't swallow it back. You crumpled the note and threw it aside, then crawled under the blankets and curled into a ball against your pillows.

You didn't sleep. That would have been too great a mercy. Instead, you remained motionless so long that your muscles cramped against the position. You stomach twisted itself in knots, gnawing at your insides. Tears brimmed at the edges of your eyes, but refused to fall. That too would be a mercy. Darkness descended around you, blocking out all else, and left you alone with your loathing.

Minutes or hours later (how were you to know?), the door opened, then snapped shut. You recognized the sharp steps that echoed across the floor and shrank more tightly in on yourself. You didn't want to see anyone now, least of all Loki. But, of course, there would be no mercy tonight. You didn't deserve it anyway.

"You are to come when summoned." Loki's tone held the sharp whip of reprimand. "I should not have to—" He stopped short. "What happened?" The anger bled from his voice.

You didn't answer him.

The footsteps resumed. "Are you ill?"

"Go away," you muttered.

"Tell me what's wrong."

Your head hurt. Your heart hurt. Your insides twisted all together, writhing like snakes. It was agony with no end in sight. You could feel nothing else.

Maybe… maybe Loki could help. Perhaps you could not have mercy, but… a reprieve?

You sat up, blinking in the darkness. Loki stood at the edge of the bed, cautious concern written on his face. You held your hand out to him and—after a moment—he took it. You pulled him down to you, surging into him with a kiss. Loki's hesitancy urged you forward, taking the lead where normally you waited for him. You laid back, pulling him over you, and tangled your hands in his hair. You arched into him to try to press as much of yourself against him as possible.

It seemed as if everything you did was off somehow, as if you and Loki were missing each other by inches. Your noses got in the way when you kissed. You reached for his hand when he reached for your waist. He tried to kiss you when you turned away. You couldn't match your rhythm to his.

Where you were used to Loki pushing forward at every opportunity, this time you drove the experience. You had to coax him out of his clothes. You took him in your hands, stroking until he panted above you. It took a few tries to get him between your legs, your body refusing to cooperate. Finally, he pushed inside you.

"Are you alright, sweet?"

"I'm fine."

"What—"

"Please don't stop."

Loki pushed off you, trying to see your face, but you buried your face in his shoulder, fighting back the tears that came to your eyes.

"Please. Please, just—" You didn't know how to finish your request. You didn't know what to ask for because you didn't know what you wanted. There must be a way to not think, to not feel anything for a minute. You wanted the chaos in your chest to stop; you wanted Loki to chase it away.

Loki moved against you, but try as you might, you couldn't keep your mind in the room. He lavished attention on you, long kisses and smooth strokes that should have made you ache with tenderness. You grasped for the pleasure that you knew should be there. Instead all you felt was emptiness. Clearly, this was going nowhere, and Loki's attempts were an exercise in futility. Quite suddenly, you were done with trying.

If Loki finished, then maybe you could get him to leave without a fuss. Maybe he wouldn't notice. Maybe, maybe… really all you wanted was to be alone. 

"Come for me," you said.

"We'll get there, sweet."

"Please."

"Love, I—"

"Please." You wrapped your arms around his neck and swiveled your hips. Stars, you had no idea if that would even do anything, but Loki had seemed to enjoy it before.

"What game are you playing, pet?"

"I'm not."

"Why do you try to lie to me?" he asked. "You shouldn't bother; you'll get in trouble."

Trouble you could handle. But trying to pretend as if everything was okay? A few minutes more and you'd fall apart.

You arched into him, hands going to his hips to urge him faster. He obliged. For a minute, there was silence except for the sound of your panting breath mingling with his. Loki thrust harder, his movements losing some of their fluidity.

"Love," he said, the words strangled, "are you—"

You lifted your hips into him. He groaned and fisted his hands in the sheets on either side of your head. His words lost the thread of sensibility, cutting off into gasps and moans.

Almost there. Just a few moments more. You squeezed your eyes shut, head thrown back on the pillow. "Loki, please." Your fingernails dug into the skin of his hips. Please just let this be over. Stars, just let him leave. "Please, I want you to."

He growled and bit into your shoulder. His hips snapped forward so hard you gasped. It was harsh, a punishing pace, and Loki finished with a shout a minute later. He panted against your throat for a moment, hands caressing your hips. Then he eased from you and rolled onto his back at your side.

Even though he had left you, Loki was too close, too warm. You needed distance. You stood from the bed and wrapped a blanket around your form. You made it only a few paces when his sharp voice stopped you.

"Get back here, pet."

You didn't move, still facing away from him. Your heart pounded against your ribs. Stars, why couldn't he just leave?

"It's alright," you said, voice emotionless. "I don't need anything. You can go."

"How kind of you to give me permission," he said, voice cold. "I have no intention of leaving you unsatisfied."

Unsatisfied. How could you possibly be satisfied like this? Your temper ignited in your chest. "Why are you doing this?" You turned to Loki in a fury. "Leave me alone."

Loki rose, following you into the room, a menacing figure in the dark. "Careful, pet."

You shoved Loki away, but he caught your wrists. "I am not your pet." You struggled against him, lashing out in any way to gain your freedom. "If you wanted to please yourself, you've done so. It's why you came here, right? Since that's all you wanted, get out of my room and leave me alone. It's not as if my happiness matters."

"Stop." Loki closed the distance between you. His hands still held your wrists firmly, but not hard enough to hurt. "You don't want to do this right now."

You pulled away, the spark of fury reigniting. "Who are you tell me what I want?" You stepped back. "You always force me into impossible situations. If it wasn't for you, I would have been there and she wouldn't be—" your voice broke. You couldn't see Loki's expression through the tears blurring your eyes. Still, none fell down your face.

"Oh, love," Loki said, his voice softening. "Come here." He drew you forward, trying to pull you into his arms.

"No!" A surge of indignation fueled your fight. "Don't pretend as if you care."

Loki held fast. "Pet, stop," he said, the words soft and soothing, but ineffective.

"Why are you even here?" You glared up at him. "What good are you?"

Loki didn't respond, but released you. You staggered a few steps back. Without Loki's challenge, your anger burned out and only despair filled the hollow cavity of your chest. Sobs rose through your throat, suffocating you as the tears finally fell. Your legs gave out, refusing to support you, and you dropped to your knees. It was as if you choked up every negative feeling along with the tears. Fear, pain, and self-loathing mixed together and poured from your eyes.

Loki picked you up—easier now that you no longer resisted—and took you to the bed. He sat back against the headboard and pulled you into his lap. He let you cry, holding you in his arms, lips pressed to the top of your head, murmuring unending reassurances. You clung to him, hands fisted in his shirt and face buried against his chest.

Eventually, even the tears ran out, leaving behind only emptiness. A gaping void ached in your chest. You trembled in Loki's arms, held together only by his warm embrace. Every breath—every beat of your heart—hurt. In the sudden silence, you felt a horrible sensation of unbeing, as if you no longer existed.

"What happened, sweet?" Loki whispered into your hair. "Tell me what's wrong and I'll set it right."

"You can't."

"Trust me, love."

"I—"

"Please, sweet. Let me help."

You took a shuddering breath. "My mother is ill."

He paused. "Will she recover?"

"I don’t know."

Loki's arms tightened around you. He pressed a kiss to your hair. "Alright, sweet." He settled lower against the pillows and pulled a blanket over you. "It's alright. There's nothing you can do right now. Go to sleep."

You shook your head, tears burning against your eyes.

"Go to sleep, love," he repeated, his voice dropping. "I won't let anything happen while you do."

You didn't want to. You didn't want to drift away, but Loki's voice worked as a type of hypnosis, soothing your thoughts and pushing you into darkness. Despite yourself, you relaxed against him, eyes closing over more unshed tears.

Chapter Text

You dressed in a daze, fixing your hair without any consideration for what you did other than to keep it from your face. You couldn't stand to have it fall free around your shoulders. Every brush against your skin was irritating. Though, at the moment, everything was irritating.

Loki hadn't been in your bed when you woke that morning. That… that wasn't surprising. It shouldn't have been. And you couldn't let it be disappointing. He had done enough for you already. He hadn't known what he was walking into the previous night. You couldn't blame him for leaving the moment he had the opportunity.

Cleary, this—tryst, affair, indiscretion, whatever it was—had gotten out of hand. Sexual gratification was one thing… emotional attachment was something else entirely. The risks were becoming too big. You couldn't run to Loki whenever you were upset, no matter how much you wanted to. Even if his arms were the safest place you'd ever been.

You scrubbed your hands over your face and stood to leave. You had intended to be back at your mother's side at dawn, but that had long passed now. You had slept too long, too deeply. Now wasn't the time for such things. You walked through the palace halls, one foot in front of the other, then again. Another step, another breath.

The door to the room was open. Your heart and your steps quickened. Had something happened? Had your mother—

"Miss." The doctor straightened when you entered. He stood at your mother's side, where she rested against the pillows of her bed, eyes closed.

"What happened?" you asked, breath catching in your throat.

"She is recovering," the doctor said. "Better than yesterday. I will keep an eye on her, but"—he smiled slightly—"I'm hopeful."

"Can I stay with her?" you asked, hope swelling in your chest. You hadn't been allowed the day before.

He hesitated and his eyes shifted away, a miniscule change to look over your shoulder, then back to you. "I suppose that would be alright." His eyes flicked past you again. "Please excuse me," he said. "I will return shortly." He nodded to you, then bowed slightly and left.

People didn't usually bow for you…

You looked over your shoulder. Loki sat at a small table next to the window of your mother's balcony. A book lay in front of him, carefully set down to mark his place. He regarded you with a passive sort of interest.

"What are you doing here?" you blurted. Loki raised one eyebrow and you remembered your place (and the presence of the nurses). "My Lord." You dropped to a curtsy.

Loki visibly repressed a laugh. "I learned that Thor's betrothed was in distress. My brother regrets that he couldn’t be here himself."

You looked at him for a long moment and swallowed thickly. "Thank you." There was probably too much emotion in those words, but you couldn’t keep it out.

Loki stood and pulled back the chair opposite on the table from him. You took it.

A book lay on the table in front of the chair, the one that you had been perusing most recently in the library (a history of Asgardian diplomacy). You laid your hand on the cover. "How long have you been here?" you asked.

Loki returned to his seat without looking at you. "That doesn't really matter." He picked up the book that he'd set aside earlier and offered no further comment.

You scowled. It did matter. It mattered because, at some point the night before, Loki had snuck out from your arms and came here. As much as you appreciated whatever help he'd given in swaying the doctor to allow you to sit vigil, he had done so without consulting you. It was a bad habit of his to do things for you—one that was becoming increasingly risky.

You set your book in your lap without opening it and turned instead to watch out the window. Snow covered the palace grounds in drifts. Winter songbirds flitted from branch to branch, disturbing the cold, soft cover with their tiny footprints. They fluffed their feathers, brushing away the flakes like a broom. You felt Loki's eyes on you, but he made no motion toward you with the assistants still present. They busied themselves around the room, changing out towels and bringing new instruments and caring for your mother's every need. Eventually, there wasn't anything more for them to do and they left her to her rest. And left you with Loki.

"You seem to have regained your composure," Loki said. You looked back to him. He still held his book, but his attention was fixed on you.

"Yes." You dropped your gaze. "I'm sorry for my behavior toward you."

"You should have told me," he said, "rather than try to mislead me. And worse is that you did so to your own detriment."

A stone sunk in your stomach. "I did not think I should trouble you with it."

"I choose what troubles me." Loki folded his hands together and leaned across the table toward you. "I will make this clear. You are not permitted to lie to me. You are not to try."

Honesty. Though he framed it in terms of an imperious command, that was what he asked from you. Honesty wasn't a quality usually present in illicit affairs. Neither was trust. Nor caring. Nor affection. Nor any of the things you'd come to associate with Loki during your time together. When had you begun to rely on him so completely?

"Do you understand?" Loki asked and you realized that you'd made him repeat himself.

You nodded.

"Try again."

Ah, the familiar game. Moves and countermoves, angles and tricks. "Yes, Loki."

"Good girl."

Loki stayed with you. Over the course of the day, he never left your side. You fidgeted in your chair, rereading the same paragraph in an endless uncomprehending loop, dread growing throughout your body. The staff must have taken note of his presence (he was so conspicuous, after all).

When you were alone once again, Loki said, "I can feel you thinking. What is it now?"

"You shouldn't be here."

"That is for me to decide." He turned the page of his book, unconcerned.

"Why are you here?" Loki didn't answer, so you pressed the issue. "You must have a reason."

"Must I?"

"What am I to you?" you asked, finally finding voice for the central issue. It was a reminder more than a question. How could Loki put himself in a vulnerable position on your behalf? Why was he risking himself?

"Stop with your questions," Loki said. "Be quiet and let me take care of you."

"I'm not yours to care for. You must see that."

"You think far too much, always twisting yourself into these knots. Let your mind be quiet for a single minute."

"Why won't you answer my question?"

"Because you already know what the answer is." He set his book down and glared at you, an angry challenge. "Why should I give you the satisfaction of hearing me say it?"

"Loki, we must stop this," you said. "You must see that this won't end well."

"Why must it end?"

"Everything ends."

"You think of the world in such definite terms. Let things be as they are."

"We can't. What am I to do when someone discovers us?"

He rolled his eyes. "You worry endlessly about things that don't matter—"

"It does matter. We—" You were interrupted by the return of one of the doctors.

The day passed as a sort of blur. Your mother remained asleep, but the doctors updated you on her condition, for the first time providing insight into what had happened and a roadmap for treatment and progress forward. The binding that had coiled tightly around your chest relaxed slightly and you felt as if your heart really beat for the first time in twenty-four hours. When they left, you sat back in your chair, less to be still and more because your legs would no longer support you. She would be okay.

With one stress settled for the moment, your mind returned the other. Your thoughts swirled over each other, your logic strangling your myriad emotions into submission. You'd neglected your family and your obligations in favor of an impossible relationship. You'd put your honor and Loki's in jeopardy. It was foolish. And selfish. And thoughtless. Loki didn't interrupt you and you didn't provoke him to.

When the nurses asked you to leave for the night, you went willingly, secure in the knowledge of your mother's improvement. Loki walked you to your room.

You stopped just outside the door, unsure how to phrase what you were determined to say. You needn't have bothered, because Loki did it for you.

"Is that what you want, then?" he asked. You had worried how to bring him back to the earlier conversation when clearly he had never diverted from it. "To end things?"

You looked away because he was doing that thing with his eyes that made you lose all reason. "I think that would be best."

"I didn't ask what would be best. I asked whether it was what you wanted."

You swallowed. "Yes."

"Careful, pet, you aren't allowed to lie."

You returned your gaze to him, glaring. "Fine. It isn't what I want." You wanted to be angry. Anger could carry you through more reliably than conviction. "I don't have the luxury to always do as I please the way you do."

Loki pushed you into your room, following you in and closing the door behind him. He pressed you against the wood, holding you in place with his body and, stars, that wasn't good. You were trying to be strong, to be the prevailing wisdom when Loki seemed intent on disregarding the rules. If he pushed this further, you'd lose any conviction you had.

You turned your face away, even if you couldn't break your body from his. "You said you had no interest in what wasn't willingly given."

Loki stilled, seeming to consider the statement, then stroked the backs of his fingers down your cheek. "In all this time, I've taken nothing from you."

"True, but I have given you plenty," you said, squeezing your eyes shut, "and far more than I should." Your heart, for one thing, but you wouldn't tell him that.

"Alright, sweet," he said. "It's alright." He turned your face back to his and leaned his forehead against yours. "You've never feared me before; don't start now."

You stood in his arms for a minute, your breathing slowing to the same rhythm as his.

"I want to kiss you," Loki said, the words quiet, but unmistakable. "Since you seem determined to leave me, love, let me. Please."

You opened your eyes. 'Please' wasn't something Loki said often, it was too close to begging. That concession, more than his warmth or smell or nearness, broke your resolve. You leaned up on your toes and pressed your lips against his.

You had become so accustomed to hard, demanding kisses, that this gentle exploration was foreign to you. Loki didn't push, didn't press for more than was given. His hands framed your face, holding you, but not stopping you from moving away. Not that you tried. You stepped into him, heart aching at the distance. He was just the same as ever, even if he didn't meet you with the same force as he had before. The caring persisted.

You took a deep breath and opened your lips, inviting him in and savoring the taste of him when he obliged. It was everything that you'd loved about kissing him from the start, what had kept you from running before. You almost fell into it.

But there was something far more important at stake.

You stepped back and dropped your gaze to your feet. "I'm sorry."

Loki tipped your face up to his with his fingers under your chin. His eyes were soft, but his expression was entirely unreadable. "Be good, love," he said.

He left, taking a piece of you with him.

Chapter Text

You were fine.

It was… fine.

.

.

.

It was.

You spent your days at your mother's side, helping with her recovery, keeping her company. You were a model daughter, patient and attentive. So attentive, in fact, that after a few months, your mother insisted that you leave her alone for at least a few hours each day. Otherwise, she said, you would drive her to madness.

You hardly thought of Loki anymore.

In fact, you hardly thought of anything. Your life slid by, melting seamlessly from winter to spring. Your mother healed, though she never fully recovered, and you divided your time between her and the palace greenhouses where you read.

The library… well, it no longer offered you refuge. The shelves whispered to you, the shadows reached for your hand. The rooms reeked of your presence and set you back into the familiar thrum of your life. You didn't want to live that life. You didn't want to be yourself anymore; you wanted to be someone else. And, if you couldn't do that, you would be no one at all.

The greenhouses were small, circular huts. Flowering bushes and trees stood in proud lines, while hanging plants trailed from the ceiling. Their vines and leaves dangled down to brush the top of your head as you passed beneath. The steady drip of water sounded all around you, the sophisticated irrigation system ensuring that every root received what it needed and nothing more.

The buildings were enclosed not by walls and glass, but by force fields the likes of which only Asgard could produce. The wind blew through (but never too cold) and the rain poured down (but never too hard). The barriers were invisible until the sunlight caught the perfect angle and cast the whole room in a golden glow. The elements were allowed to pass in, so long as they were never too strong.

You nestled into a bench in a far corner, partially obscured by a set of towering topiaries. The book you brought with you remained unopened. Instead, you watched the glittering insects of the garden go about their business, lighting from one flower to the next, greeting each with a kiss and then leaving to pollinate another. Iridescent wings flashed in the sun as the creatures went about their business. A freshly planted bed of flowers stood nearby, the decaying scent of the soil mixed with the sweet smell of new life. Ends and beginnings—they always went hand in hand.

"There you are."

You snapped from your daze to find Thor approaching along the garden path. You stood automatically and clasped your book in front of you.

"Your Highness," you said, dropping into the curtsy that was second nature to you.

Thor waved away your decorum and sat heavily into the bench that you had previously occupied. "He told me I could find you here," he said.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Who?"

"Loki."

Why was Loki paying attention to where you spent your days? You hadn't seen him since—

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. You'd seen him; you couldn't really avoid him in the palace after all. But you'd never been less than the length of the throne room from him. You maintained a formal distance, the same space that you had kept between you before…

You shook your head, cutting off the thought before it really had a chance to form. You hadn't pined for Loki and you had no intention of doing so now. It hurt too much. Besides, Thor was watching you, a polite look of bewilderment on his face.

As soon as your eyes made contact with his again, he shifted toward the arm of the bench, indicating the space at his side. "Sit," he said.

Sit? Where? Thor was, quite simply, too big. Even without his armor, he took up most of the seat.

"I can stand, thank you," you said.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I wouldn't want to—"

"You wouldn't be."

"I just—"

"Please."

In the end, you sat. There was just no arguing with the unguarded friendliness on Thor's face. You squeezed between him and the other arm of the bench, your leg touching his where there was no space between you. Your eyes slid away from him, unable to bear holding his gaze.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

"Ah." You looked at the book in your hand as if you'd never seen it before. "It's a manual of Asgardian farming techniques."

"Oh." Thor's eyebrows pulled together. "Do you like farming?"

"Not particularly."

"Then why are you reading about it?"

You froze. No one had ever asked you that before. Your whole life, you'd studied anything and everything that you could get your hands on, working your way through the library in an almost haphazard fashion, choosing books at random and accruing knowledge as if it were treasure, but with no thought for its actual value. "I don't know," you said.

"It is interesting?"

You turned the book over in your hands, as if you would find the answer written across the cover. Despite being out here for hours, you hadn't yet opened it. "I don't know."

Thor laughed, the sound robust and loud, filling the greenhouse and shaking the leaves of the plants. It made your heart jump. He settled back again, looking around him as if seeing the surroundings for the first time. It wasn't peaceful, per se, more… unnerving.

"Did you need something?" you asked, unable to bear the odd quiet when you had always associated Thor with clamor and excitement.

This time, Thor shifted uncomfortably. "No."

"Then why are you here?"

"Loki knew where you were."

"You said that, but—"

"And I didn't."

You stopped—mouth still half open from your next interruption—as the realization sank in. Thor was bothered by it, by the fact that Loki had known something about you that he hadn't.

"We didn't choose to be wed," Thor said. "Yet that inevitability stands before us all the same." He didn't look to you as he spoke, staring steadfastly at the thoroughly uninteresting bush in in front of him. "I've trained my whole life to rule Asgard, but at no point did I prepare to be a husband." He took a deep breath, expanding his massive chest to that his arms pushed against yours, then looked to you.  "I would like to get to know you"—he offered his hand, palm up, and waited for you to take it—"if you'll allow me."

You stared, completely off balance, as if Thor had changed the direction in which the sun crossed the sky. And… well… what were you supposed to do? He looked at you with his bottomless blue eyes, soul bare in front of you. You placed your hand in his.

Thor smiled, big and bright and sincere. "Good." As he stood, he pulled you to your feet. "You'll come tonight, then?"

You scrambled for your bearings. "Come? To where?"

"The feast," he said, a smile crossing his face that let you know the answer should have been obvious.

Your heart plummeted. Right. A feast. Of course. For half of a minute, you had thought that this would be different in some way from all the time that you had spent with Thor before. What had you expected? That he would suddenly take to relaxing with you in the library?

You smiled, a practiced movement that came into place as easily as breathing. "Of course."

#

What was different, it seemed, was that now Thor actually paid attention to you throughout the night. It was flattering, you supposed. Or… it should have been. Mostly, you felt exhausted. You couldn't sneak off early or allow your mind to wander as before—not with Thor glancing over to you every minute and asking for your thoughts on a story or joke, not with his arm over your shoulder, holding you to his side. You cheeks hurt from smiling and your head spun from the noise. Panic simmered just under your skin.

Meanwhile, Loki's gaze never left you. It was a hazard of being near Thor: that Loki was never far behind. You didn't look at him, but still were painfully aware of every shift in his form. You felt his eyes on you, no matter what you did. If cutting off your arm would have excused you to go our own way, you would have gladly done so.

When Fandral suggested a late night adventure, long after other guests had retired for the night, you took your opportunity. "I think I'll go to bed," you said, slipping out from under Thor's arm. Thor seemed stricken, clearly torn between following his friends and attending to you. You saved him the trouble. "I'll be alright," you said, placing your hand on his arm.

"I'll see that she makes it back safely," Loki said from behind Thor. Your heart dropped to your feet. "I was going to retire anyway." Loki looked at you, expression unreadable and therefore all the more terrifying.

Thor didn't seem to notice that the air had cooled or that you had suddenly gone very still. "If you're sure," He said to Loki with a smile.

Loki returned the gesture, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Of course."

You didn't breathe as Loki guided you from the hall, away from the voices and laughter of Thor and the warriors. Your feet moved automatically, entirely separate from the chaos of your mind. You were alone with Loki. In a deserted hall. At night.

Every nerve in your body screamed danger.

Loki pulled you into a room without warning. Only moonlight lit the walls, streaming in from high, thin windows along one side. Before you could make a sound, before you could process what had happened, Loki pressed you against the wall. He took your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him.

"Tell me to kiss you," he said.

What? Loki had seemed on the edge of violence just moments before, but now the fire behind his eyes was entirely different. You tried a few times to find your voice.

"Do it now," he said, "so I don't have to take it from you."

You tried to slide away, an ineffective effort. "I—"

"Never mind."

Loki kissed you. At the first touch of his lips, something broke inside you. The wall that you had constructed to keep out everything you felt crumpled in a heap at your feet. The kiss was fire and need and everything that you had been missing for the past months.

You pressed into Loki, hands winding around his neck to pull him closer. His scent and warmth wrapped around you as if there were nothing else. The taste of him on your tongue was more potent than any liquor. You fumbled for the fastenings of his clothing, needing to be closer, needing to feel him and know he was real.

Loki obliged, but didn't let you get far. You had barely undone his pants when he hoisted you up by your hips, shoving the skirt of your dress over your thighs. You wrapped your legs around him, trying desperately to maintain the kiss all the while.

It wasn't perfect—hardly even close. The position was awkward, your clothes kept getting in the way, and once or twice your hair got caught in the kiss, but when he slid inside of you, it was like coming home. The part of you that had been broken since you'd said goodbye fell back into place.

Loki held you up, pressed against the wall as he thrust into you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and gasped against his neck. With your eyes tightly shut, you whined and whimpered your way to climax and stifled your voice against his shoulder when you came. He didn't relent, maintaining the rhythm until you were crying against him.

"Please," you said against his skin. "Please, Loki."

He didn't answer you, but his movements faltered. When he regained his stance, he took up a new pace, slow and hard. His breathing grew ragged.

"Loki," you said into his ear. You ran your fingernails against his scalp, the tiniest scratch. "I want you to. Please."

Loki's hands tightened almost painfully around your hips and he pressed into you one last time, his whole body tensing. His head dropped to your shoulder and he came with a strangled cry.

Silence descended around you. Your arms shook where you still held tight to his shoulders. Loki pressed a kiss to your neck, then carefully slid from you and lowered you to your feet. Your legs refused to support you and you slumped down the wall to sit on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. Loki stepped away and fixed his clothing. He didn't look at you, instead facing away to the windows, hands on his hips and head hung. Moments or minutes passed and you watched him, studying the graceful lines of his back as if you had never seen them before.

When Loki turned toward you, his face was once again a mask devoid of emotion. "You should go," he said.

You didn't realize you were close to tears until the first one fell. A single drop rolled down your cheek, smearing your face with an emotion you didn't have words to describe.

Loki looked stricken. For a few seconds, he stood as if not knowing what to do. With an exasperated huff, he sat by you and pulled you onto his lap.

"Don't cry," he said, his lips pressed against your hair. You nestled there with the same comfort as always, as if you'd never left, and melted into his embrace. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I—" You choked on the words, unable to force them past your lips. Instead, shook your head, hiding your face from him. You fisted your hands in his shirt, as if you could stop him from leaving. You were helpless to stop the tears streaming over your cheeks now. Even you didn't know where they came from.

There was another stretch of silence, punctuated only by your ragged breathing.

"Sweet, I'm going to ask you a question," Loki said, stroking his fingers through your hair. "Do you still want to be apart from me?"

You curled more closely in on him and shook your head.

Loki let out a long breath and relaxed fully against the wall, still holding you to his chest. "Pet, if you were hurting so terribly, you should have called for me."

You didn't respond, instead letting his slow, steady breathing calm you. You sat in his arms for a long while after the tears subsided, listening to the beat of his heart.

Finally, he moved under you, forcing you to face him. "Love, I want you to do something for me." He looked down at you, very seriously. You nodded. "No more worrying about what's right." He tucked your hair behind your ear. "From now on, you do as you wish and you trust me to handle the consequences."

"But—"

"No disagreement on this point." He took your chin between his fingers. "None at all. We have had this conversation too many times and I will not argue this with you anymore." He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. "This is not something you can negotiate. It is a term that you accept. If you wish to leave me, you may, but never for any reason other than you want to do so." He stared at you, silent, as if waiting for your agreement. Your heart jumped to your throat. Your fate had always been in others' hands, but never had you given it willingly. You swallowed… and nodded.

Loki smiled. "Good girl." He kissed over each of your eyes, then the tip of your nose. "Come with me," he said, and pushed you off is lap. He stood and pulled you up after him.

You tugged, but his hand held yours firmly, fingers interlaced with yours. "What are you—"

Loki cut you off with a kiss that left you breathless. "I am far from finished with you, tonight, love," he said when he pulled away. "You should save your voice. You'll need it later."

Chapter Text

"Do as you wish" had a million possible interpretations and Loki hadn't exactly been clear about which he meant. What were his intentions for you? What—if anything—were you to tell others in the palace? What were you supposed to do about Thor? There was a lot to think about.

At the moment, however, Loki wasn't giving you room to breathe, much less think.

You moaned, head thrown back on the pillows and hands clutching at the headboard where Loki had commanded them to stay. He kneeled between your legs, continuing an agonizing exploration with his hands and tongue that had spanned the past hour. Or perhaps it had been longer. You had no way to track time and no mental capacity to do so regardless. You were certain he was punishing you, keeping you close to the edge, but backing off each time you thought you might topple over. If not for the fact that your legs were weak to the point of shaking, you might have been tempted to kick him. As it was, you laid at his mercy—of which he had none.

He never stopped talking. His voice reached every inch of you, building the fire that he stroked to life and soothing it back down again. He spoke without end, praise and encouragement in equal measure. He kissed every part of your body in turn, as if cataloguing you in minute detail.

Loki paused as he nibbled at the inside of your thigh. "Did you miss me, sweet?" His fingers slid inside you and you managed to whimper in response, mind turned hazy. You'd passed any threshold of coherency a while before.

"Give a proper answer."

"Yes," you gasped. Your body ached for release, yet you didn't know if you were even capable of it anymore. After all of Loki's attentions, perhaps you'd simply shatter into stars.

"Did you think of me?"

"Yes." Stars, yes. A hundred times. You'd bit back his name every night, subsisting off memories that faded more with each day you stayed from him. You'd ached for his hands instead of yours and you'd muffled tears with your pillow.

"You were so good last night, darling, and absolutely fantastic this morning. I think it's about time you were rewarded." Loki kissed your stomach, following a line from your chest to navel. "What do you want?" he asked. You whined, a thousand things springing to mind but no tendril of thought clear enough to grasp. Loki chuckled. "You only have to tell me."

"You," you said. "Please, Loki. Please, I want you."

"You already have me, sweet. Try again."

Damn Loki and his games. He was hard, though he hadn't let you touch him throughout. He'd held himself back for a reason that only the stars could know, instead lavishing you with attention. He had to want more. He had to. But he was being stubborn, forcing you to ask. You swore.

Loki laughed. "Mind your manners, love. I've been nice so far."

"Please," you whined.

"Please what?"

"Please. I want you inside me."

"Good girl."

Loki lifted your hips off the mattress and thrust into you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body responding as if he'd lit fireworks inside you. Loki didn't wait for you to adjust and took up a fast pace that left you breathless. Each stroke hit the very center of you and you saw lights behind your eyes. The precipice on which you'd balanced disappeared from under you and you came with a cry.

Loki stopped and watched as you shuddered through the aftershocks. He lowered your hips, still intimately entwined, and lay over you so his body covered yours.

"Well done, sweet," he said into your ear. "You've been so good for me."

You whimpered in response, floating somewhere between ecstasy and oblivion. Loki peppered lazy kisses over your neck. He was still hard inside you and his hips rocked gently against yours, each movement eliciting an echo of pleasure through your body.

You took his face in your hands and looked up at him. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, love. Just be sweet."

"You must want something?"

"I already have everything." Loki pressed his face into your shoulder and tightened his arms around you. He slid in and out of you with long, slow strokes that made your heart flutter. You held him close, your fingers tangled in his hair.

"It's your turn, Loki," you said. "You were amazing. You made me feel so good." He groaned against your shoulder and you smiled. He would never admit it to you, you knew, but he lived off your praise. You lavished him with it, finding all the words that had been stripped from your mind minutes before. Loki melted into gasps and groans, holding onto you like a lifeline.

He came almost silently, body going rigid over you. You held your breath when his arms around you became uncomfortably tight. He shuddered and gasped, then went lax against you. He breathed hard, lips pressed against the skin of your neck.

You hummed and traced your fingers down his spine. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

Loki laughed, full and bright. He rolled, taking you with him so you laid over his chest. "Vixen," he said, "I won't answer a question when you already know the answer." He kissed the top of your head. "If I had known how playful you were, I would have seduced you earlier."

You snorted. "The only reason you pursued me was because of my betrothal to your brother."

"Is that what you think?" Loki asked, voice smooth. "It's no wonder that you run from me at every opportunity."

There was an unexpected emotion in his voice. You looked at him. It had been fleeting, but was that… hurt? "Am I wrong?" you asked.

Loki seemed to consider it. "Not entirely. At first, I meant only to tease you. But you were much more enjoyable than I'd anticipated."

"But you only noticed me because of my relation with Thor."

"So? Everything has a beginning. What does it matter whether I knew you through Thor or any other method?"

"Still."

"Still? What would you have preferred? That you stumbled into me and your clumsiness struck me as charming? That I was persuaded by your beauty when you passed in the hall? Such a superficial start to intimacy, mere physical attraction. If I'd met you by any other means, the result would have been the same."

Mere physical attraction. Stars, that was why you had been drawn to Loki.

"If you find my reasons so distasteful, then perhaps you'll tell me what sparked your interest in me."

Your mouth went dry. Stars, you couldn't tell him that. His body, the way he carried himself… You'd known nothing of him but what you'd heard in rumors. That was hardly a noble beginning. You tried to squirm away, but Loki held you firmly against him.

"No? Perhaps a different topic then." Your heart stuttered. He looked at you as if his eyes could see directly into your thoughts. "Ask what I think of you now."

"I don't—"

"Ask me, sweet."

"It's not—"

"I think you're lovely," he said, his voice dropping low. Your insides melted. "You're clever, though I doubt anyone understands just how much. Perhaps you think too much, but I never did find stupidity appealing." He twirled some of your hair around his fingers and brought it to his lips for a kiss. "You're kind, which I thought was a weakness, yet you've used it to bring me to my knees. Then there are the things that only I get to see. You're wicked when you take your pleasure from me. The confidence you have when we're together is intoxicating. You're a vision." Heat rose over your cheeks. Loki chuckled. "And you're blushing."

You squeezed your eyes shut. "It's because you say things like that."

"What? The truth? Do you want me to lie to you, sweet?"

"No, not that." You struggled to put the thought into words. "Can we just be quiet?"

Loki kissed your forehead and settled deeper into the cushions. "Whatever you would like."

You fell into a daze. Loki traced ticklish patterns over your bare skin. You thought of nothing at all, basking in his warmth and scent.

After a while, Loki rolled you over so he loomed above you. He nuzzled your neck. "As much as I'd love to stay here all day, I have some business to attend to." He pressed you against the pillows in a burning kiss, then pulled back with a smile.

You tried to follow him for another kiss, but came up short, missing his lips by inches. Loki grinned.

"Wha—?" You looked back. A thin gold chain tethered your wrist to the headboard. You tugged at it and it held firm. You turned to him in a fury.

Loki looked unbelievably smug. The ghost of a smile played over his lips. "There's my spitfire."

"Unlock it."

"I think not."

"You can't expect me to stay in your bed all day."

"That is exactly what I want you to do." Loki pressed a swift kiss against your forehead then retreated to the door. "Be good while I'm gone."

You yanked at the chain long after Loki left, fuming. How dare he? How dare he? He had joked about doing it before, but you never thought he'd take it so far. When he spoke of tying you up, you had assumed he would still be in the room.

You sat back with a snarl. You absolutely refused to let Loki have his way. Clearly, brute force wasn't going to work. You examined the chain closely. It seemed as if it should be fragile, but it had held against your assault with no sign of damage. You examined it, first the fastening around your wrist—too tight to slip through—then where the chain connected to the post of the bed. The connection was seamless, but still a simple loop. You looked up the post, which stretched far above to the ceiling. It had an open end… one you could slip the chain over… if you could reach it.

You tried five times before managing to make your way up most of the post. Climbing had never been a strength of yours and each tumble back to the bed below started a new round of cursing and frustration. Finally, gripping the post with strained hands, you managed to remove the looped end from the post. You flopped down again, grinning.

Freedom.

It's no wonder that you run from me at every opportunity.

Your heart panged. Stars… what would Loki think when he came back and found you missing? That you had abandoned him again, surely. But you couldn't let yourself stay chained in his room. Certainly not. You wouldn't let him treat you like a pet.

But, perhaps… a compromise.

#

You were on the sofa when Loki returned, leafing through one of the books that you had found on the table (Asgardian armor designs). He stopped just inside the door.

"Welcome back," you said, not looking up from the book, but watching Loki intently from the corner of your vision.

"You freed yourself."

"I did."

"You're still here."

"I am."

Loki crossed the space and stopped in front of you. You could practically feel the wonder in his thoughts. There you were, free, but not gone, staying with him by your own volition. He stroked his fingers through your hair.

"Sit with me?" you made room for him and Loki obliged, still looking at you with something like wonder. He laid across the couch, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his head against your stomach. Curious. It was the same position he'd used after he'd been injured. Did he find it comforting?

You stroked his hair away from his face. This Loki, so relaxed, was a man that you didn't see in the palace. He only showed this side to you. You took a deep breath, savoring the feeling of your fingers sliding through the strands of Loki's hair.

"I wanted you because I knew I couldn’t have you." It wasn't an adequate explanation, and it was certainly a long time after he'd asked the question that morning, but he had asked and it deserved an answer. Loki propped himself up, eyebrows knit together as he looked at you. You let your head fall back, watching the ceiling instead. You couldn't look at him, not if you wanted to say this. "You were outside everything I'd ever known. My life was a ceaseless set of rules but you refused to live by any but your own. I"—you cut off, biting your lip—"I thought you were fantastic."

Loki sat up and loomed over you so you couldn't avoid looking at him. His gaze was warm. He kissed you—a long, luxurious exchange, affection and heat in equal measure. When he broke from you, you needed a moment to remember where you were.

"Sweet girl," Loki said, "you've stolen my silver tongue."

You laughed, a quiet release of the tension between you. "I suppose you'll have to take it back." Loki grinned and you pulled him back into a kiss.

Chapter Text

You rested against the side of Loki's bath, arms folded over the edge and cheek rested on them. Your closed eyes blocked out the soft light, but not the gentle slosh of water, the smell of lavender and mint, or the feeling of the warm water as it lapped at your skin. Loki massaged your shoulders with practiced motions, interlacing each touch with kisses.

Clearly, he was trying to distract you.

"I have to go," you said, breaking the soft silence.

"Why?" Loki didn't pause in his movements. His fingers went to the nape of your neck. You moaned when he found a tight muscle there.

Loki was an endless distraction. How many days had it been now? Time had a funny way of turning to syrup here. Nights of tangled sheets and no sleep blurred into days filled with whispered words and soft touches.

"I can't stay here forever," you said.

"I don't see why not." The water shifted and Loki's hands wandered lower, snaking around your waist and pulling you against him. He kissed and bit at your neck, most likely making yet another bruise. He'd left a few already, seemingly determined to mark you as his. One hand cupped your breast while the other slid between your legs.

"Loki…" you protested, even as you moved to accommodate him. Your body was more easily persuaded by his attentions than your mind.

Loki hummed in your ear. "I like when you say my name, love, but that wasn't quite right." He slid a finger inside you and you gasped in response. "Try again."

His name came out as a plea this time.

"Much better." He turned you in his arms and tilted your face up to his. He came closer as if for a kiss, but stopped just short so you felt each puff of breath as he spoke. "Why is it that you want to leave me?"

"That's not what I'm saying." But you were starting to lose track of what your argument had been. With Loki so close, with his arms around you, you could hardly think.

"Then why do you want to go?"

"I—" You stopped, mind hazy. You shook your head. "I have to." There had been a reason. A good one.

Loki didn't give you time to find it, coaxing you instead into a long, sweet kiss. His hands mapped your body, the heat of his fingers leaving chilling trickles of water in their wake. You shivered and pressed closer to him. He smiled against your lips and pulled you back with him to the middle of the bath, letting your bodies sink into the warm water again.

The kiss continued, long and luxurious. Loki slid his tongue into your mouth, a lazy exploration that filled you with the taste of him. He traced the line of your hips, then settled on the curve of your ass. His hands spanned your buttocks, pulling your more firmly against him so you could feel the evidence of his desire hard against your stomach. You took a shuddering breath.

Yes, please.

Loki's fingers wound into your hair and held you at his mercy as he worried your throat with his teeth. He ran his tongue up the column of your neck to your ear.

"I want you to touch me now," he said.

A small part of you sparked at the words. A bubble of humor rose through you and you suppressed the urge to laugh. "I am touching you." How many times had Loki said the same thing?

Loki pinched your backside, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that you yelped in surprise.

"You're learning such bad habits, spitfire."

"I wonder who it is that taught me." You hummed and hoisted yourself closer to him, bringing your faces even. The movement let you drag your thigh across his erection and Loki's eyes slipped closed.

Still, as fun as teasing Loki was, it was far more enjoyable to have him at your mercy. You let your hand trail down his chest, a light brush of your fingers against his skin. Loki relaxed backward, pulling you with him to the opposite wall of the bath where he rested against the side, eyes closed.

You traced the line of his stomach to his hips, then detoured down his thighs and back up again, each time coming closer to what you knew he wanted, but never quite conceding. All the while, you watched the dance of expressions over Loki's face.

Loki opened his eyes again, the green hazy with a mix of desire and affection. "Vixen," he said.

"You love it." You took him in your hand and he groaned, head falling back. "What do you want?" you asked. As much as you were growing confident in your ability to please him, Loki's desires were varied and seemingly infinite.

"Everything," he said.

Your heart thumped. There was something about the way he said it—no hesitation, no humor—that made you think he wasn't just talking about this moment now between his body and yours.

Though you'd talked with Loki for endless hours over the past few days, the topic of your… situation… had not come up. What were you supposed to do?

You pushed that thought away. It was distracting. And dangerous. And complicated.

This moment, however—with Loki's groans echoing from the walls, his gasping breath hot against your neck, his grip tight around your waist—this was bliss. You worked him higher with slow strokes, too soft to be anything but a tease. You wanted to drive him crazy, make him desperate for you, see how far you could push before his substantial self-control snapped.

Tricks and traps and games.

"Pet." It was half warning, half plea.

You ran your palm over the head of his cock and delighted in the strangled sound he made in response. "If there's something you want, you have to ask."

Loki grabbed you by your wrists and stood, pulling you out of the water. The sudden cold shocked you.

Loki's voice was dark and deep. "I think you have a basic misunderstanding of the nature of your situation here." A few months ago, that statement would have sounded like a threat; now it made the blood heat in your veins.

You stepped closer to him, pressing your body all against his and tucking your head under his chin. "What situation is that?"

You could have sworn you heard Loki's heart skip a beat in his chest.

"On your knees, love."

You leaned back to look at him with wide eyes. That… that hadn't happened so far. Despite the fact that it was one of the earliest fantasies that he'd told you he had about you. Despite him referencing it many times. Every time you offered or tried or thought he'd ask, you had been rebuffed.

You sank to your knees, the water of the deep bath coming up to your chest, lapping at your breasts. With Loki standing in front of you, you faced his cock, still hard. Your breath caught in your throat.

It was silly for this to feel so important; it was hardly anything much different from what you'd done before. But it was different and, stars, you wanted to do this for him. He'd indulged your fantasies. Loki stroked himself a few times and you worried that his hesitation would get the better of him.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Please," you said, "let me."

Loki's eyebrows pulled together, as if your plea had surprised him. He reached out to stroke your hair from your face. "Alright, sweet."

You rested one hand on his hip, suddenly oddly self-conscious. Ridiculous. You'd done this before. But not… not quite like this. Not as if you were kneeling for him as a royal in the court. It was… it… it felt right. Like, even if you couldn’t tell him everything that you held in your heart, at least you could do this. You could give him this power, be a servant this once. He always treated you as his equal in the bedroom (and the in the bath, and on the couch, and against the walls, and on the desk once…), this was your chance to worship him as a prince.

You took him in your hand, gave a few slow strokes, then leaned forward and ran your tongue along the length from base to tip. Loki shuddered and his hands went to your hair.

You started slow, taking what you could in your mouth and using your hand where you couldn't. You sucked and licked and listened for every change in Loki's breathing. He groaned, fingers tensing in your hair when you went deeper and the head of his cock hit the back of your throat.

The room stayed quiet save for Loki's uneven breaths. The normal litany of praise and instructions didn't flow from his lips. Perhaps, he was just… enjoying himself. The thought spurred you on. You sucked harder, moved faster, and were rewarded by Loki's moans and curses. You scraped your nails down his thigh and felt the muscle tremble under your touch. Good. You made him feel good. A warm glow spread through your body.

You swirled your tongue over the head of his cock and Loki whined. Your heart stopped. He had never made that sound before, not in your memory. It was vulnerable, a wordless plea. A heady rush of power swept through you. He'd left himself open to you and put you in control when you thought him the one with the power.

Stars.

You took him deeper each time, gagging a little, but determined to make him feel amazing. His moans cut through the quiet as if he couldn't stop them. A few more moments and his cock pulsed, spilling seed into your mouth. His shout reverberated around the room.

You both took a minute to catch your breath, during which Loki's fingers never left your hair, stroking mindlessly through the strands.  Then, he tipped your face up to look at him.

"Stay here with me, love." He looked down at you with soft eyes. That was dangerous. He could get you to do anything with that look. "Please."

Stars, you were in trouble. "I can't." You laid your hand against his thigh. "Someone must wonder where I am by now."

"You don't need to be anywhere but here."

As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Loki be your whole world. "I can't," you whispered. You looked back up at him and his face twisted in an unreadable emotion.

"You're intent on leaving," he said.

"It isn't as if you'll never see me. I'll call for you tonight if you like."

"I intend to be there, whether you call or not." The underlying warning in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. You smiled.

But when you stood and dried, you met with a new difficulty. Where in all the realms were your clothes? You racked your mind, trying to remember the last time you'd seen them, much less worn them. Stars, how long had Loki managed to keep you from thinking of it? You looked back to him, scowling. He met your displeasure with a look of feigned innocence.

"Where are they?" you asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar."

"Careful, spitfire. You'll get in trouble."

You huffed. "I need something to wear."

He rose from the water to stride from the room. You followed, wary. From a drawer he produced a bundle of green cloth and held it out to you.

"Not this again," you said. You took it, handling it carefully as if it were a venomous snake. The dress unfurled in your hands. It was hardly as daring as its predecessor was, but was still blatantly at odds with your ordinary style. "I'm not a doll for you to dress as you please."

"Doll or not, it pleases me to dress you."

"Where are my clothes?"

He sighed and rested his forehead against yours. "Must you argue? It's easier to do what I want."

"I've done whatever you've wanted for the past several days," you reminded him.

He nuzzled your ear. "And you had such fun doing it."

"Where are my clothes?"

"Stubborn spitfire."

"Give them back."

He released you. "Alright." They appeared in his hands as if from nowhere.

You took them from him, but as you turned to dress, you caught the look of disappointment across his face. Your chest tightened. After all, Loki hadn't done anything wrong.

Damn it.

You scowled as you stepped into the dress, somehow feeling as if you were being forced, though this time it was entirely your decision. The dress fit. Of course it fit. Loki probably knew your body better than you did by now. He failed to hide his grin when you turned around.

"Don't be smug," you said, swatting him lightly on the arm.

He caught your waist and dragged you against him. "You'll miss me today."

"Perhaps I'll enjoy the respite."

"Still." He buried his face in your hair. "You'll miss me."

You kissed his neck. "Of course I will."

Chapter Text

Author's Note:

Let me start with an apology.

My life has gotten a little out of hand. Between physical problems with my dog, some mental health issues of my own, and the upcoming wedding of a friend, this week's update has been postponed. For that, I am truly sorry. Your support means so very much to me (we got to 12,000 hits!) and I know that my regular posting schedule is a big part of that. I appreciate your understanding in this situation.

We will be back to our regularly scheduled programming on April 2nd.

As a thank you, the April 2nd update will be a double feature. That's right, two chapters posted in one Monday.

In the meantime, please feel free to check out my other fics. The Silence Between Us and If You Were Here are both completed. I also have a few original short stories and flash fiction pieces that you can view on my website (www.daphnestrasert.com).

Be good while I'm gone <3
Lots of love from me and, of course, lots of love from Loki.

Chapter Text

A week. That was how long you had remained in Loki's rooms. Between one distraction and another, you had lost all concept of time and given your undivided attention to Loki for a full week.

And yet, you needn't have worried that others in Asgard had missed your presence.

That became utterly clear when you arrived in your mother's room in the morning, mind still swirling through possible excuses. So far, you hadn't settled on an acceptable explanation (A whole week! Stars.)

"You look much recovered," your mother said, sparing you a glance from the needlework she held in her lap.

Your mind stuttered to a stop. "Pardon?"

"From your illness." A longer look this time. "I hadn't expected to see you wander so far so soon when you've been bedridden for days. But you look much better than when I visited yesterday."

"Ah." You certainly weren't in your room the day before and you hadn't seen your mother in a week. Which meant… Loki.

Of course.

So that was why he had never seemed concerned that your absence would alarm others; he had ensured that others thought and saw what he wanted. When would the extent of his powers stop surprising you?

Still, he could have at least warned you of what he had done.

You sat in the chair opposite your mother. "How are you today?" you asked, hoping to steer the conversation toward events that you had not missed in their entirety.

Your mother waved away your worry. "Busy," she answered, not bothering to look up at you this time, "and you should be too."

"What for?"

"Did you listen to me at all this week or did your memory leave along with the fever?"

"Momma…"

"The coronation, child. Now that the date is announced, you've got more work than I have time for."

Your heart stopped. The coronation—Thor's coronation. If it had been announced, then… your wedding would have been set along with it. Stars… that was it then. If Thor was going to be crowned, then… you would be married not long after, if not before.

Meanwhile, your mother had continued talking. "—may feel like a long time to wait, but there are feasts before then. Not to mention any number of projects to organize. You'll need to meet with the Queen and with—I swear, are you listening at all?"

Not in the least. You suddenly felt as faint as if you had been ill for the past week. "Actually," you said, "I think I'll go lie down for a bit."

"I knew it was too soon for you to be up and around again. You should have rested a little while longer."

You stood, leaning one hand against the table as if it could steady your mind.

Just as you reached the door, your mother spoke again. "It is nice to see you dressed appropriately. Finally."

"Momma?"

"The dress"—she waved her embroidery hoop toward you by way of indication—"it's new. Very regal. It suits you."

You nodded and left so she couldn't see the way you paled at her remarks. Of course, it was the dress that Loki had picked for you—made of fabric the shade of new leaves, which seemed lighter than air. It was less a garment and more of a concept, the illusion of clothing that fluttered around you as you walked. It drew attention, glances and whispers that you didn't want at the moment. And you should hardly be wearing a gift from Loki when the palace was suddenly abuzz with renewed interest in you.

You didn't return to your room. You needed to clear your head and your bedroom was no place for that. Instead, you went to the gardens and wandered the labyrinth of paths. Spring had transformed them and the scent of blooming plants was everywhere. The bright chirp of the birds contrasted sharply with your dismal and worsening mood.

What in all the stars were you supposed to do now? With Thor's coronation on the horizon, your wedding was set. Even before, when it had been nothing but a nebulous inevitability, you still hadn't decided what to do. Now, your best guess was that you had less than a year. Less than a year to sort out what to do—what you wanted to do. When you'd asked Loki, he had been of absolutely no help, endlessly assuring you that it would be fine and that you should leave things as they were.

Loki… He would have known about this. Of course he would have known. He knew every rumor and whisper of the palace, every secret ever kept. He'd probably known Thor would be crowned before Thor himself did.

And he hadn't told you. Instead, he'd kept you in his rooms, a bird in a marvelous golden aviary, cut off from anything that might startle you. A trap. A trick. Damn it. How did you always fall for that?

You came to an abrupt halt, walking into what you, at first, thought was an archway, until the archway moved and you came face to face with Thor.

"Your Highness," you said, attempting to drop into a curtsy and finding that your new dress made that all but impossible.

"My Lady," he said. You stared at him in a moment of uncomfortable silence before the side of his mouth quirked and he looked down. "Perhaps we could be less formal."

You heart stuttered. Of course. That made sense. Since you would be married. Soon. You'd be expected to call him by his name. And then to do things that were much more intimate after that. You pushed that thought aside. "You'd like me to call you Thor?"

"That seems like a good start." Thor smiled at you and the corners around his eyes wrinkled. He looked remarkably like the queen when he did that. Frigga's smile could light a room by itself. Her elder son had certainly inherited her same ability.

"You look…" he waved at your general direction, but seemed unsure of what exactly he should say, "as if you're well."

Ah. News of your illness had apparently travelled farther than just to family. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, I, uh, I feel better." Loki was right. You were a terrible liar. And currently, you felt as if you should go curl up in bed for another week.

"I tried to visit," Thor continued, "but your mother said you didn't want to see anyone."

Reasonable enough… if it was actually your mother to whom Thor had spoken. You'd have to ask Loki when you confronted him about keeping the news of Thor's—

"Oh, congratulations," you said, "on the coronation."

Thor beamed. "Thank you."

"You must be nervous."

"Everyone thinks I should be."

"I would be."

"Nonsense. You'll make a marvelous queen."

A stone dropped into your stomach. Until Thor said the words, that reality hadn't occurred to you. You knew Thor would be King. You knew that you were to marry him. Still, the combination of those two facts had never fully settled in. Queen. Stars.

Why couldn’t you keep your mind in one place? Now, more than ever, you needed your wits. Too much was happening at once. You'd grown accustomed to Loki in your life, then to his absence. His renewed presence left you off kilter. All of that on top of a coronation and a wedding you didn't—

The kiss caught you by surprise. Thor had been standing near to you—nearer than normal—but, in your preoccupation, you hadn't noticed him close the distance until his lips pressed against yours. His hand at your side held you from moving and his beard scratched against your face. The kiss was soft, affectionate; there was no demand, but instead a sort of assumed familiarity. Thor was supposed to kiss you. This was normal. This was what you were supposed to want. For a moment, you were too shocked to respond. This was… it wasn't right. It didn't feel right. It felt like a betrayal.

You will do as you wish.

You stepped back.

Confusion marked Thor's face. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," you blurted, the apology coming automatically. You'd refused the crown prince. You'd rebuffed your fiancé. Your head spun as you rebelled against every well-trained bone in your body. Your whole life, you had been Thor's. Every moment up until now had only reinforced that you didn't belong to yourself, that your affection wasn't something you had a right to give or take away. But this wasn't what you wanted to do.

"It's alright," Thor said. "I thought—" he paused, taking his time to study you. "We can take things slowly."

"That's not it."

"What's wrong?" Thor was so friendly, so open. He had no reason to distrust you. Stars…

You could be cast out for this, from the palace—even from Asgard, if the mood struck Odin. But good sense couldn't stop the words from coming out of your mouth. "I can't marry you." You took another step back.

"Ah." Thor sat on a bench, His expression still wrinkled in confusion, but strangely composed.

"It's not you," you said. "You're wonderful." Words tripped over each other as they tumbled out of your mouth. "It's just that I—I can't—" You should have planned this. You should have thought this through.

Thor's face cleared with sudden understanding. "You're in love with someone else."

That stopped you in your tracks. Love. Stars. You weren't… you couldn't… that was… something you should have seen. What other reason could you have to refuse Thor? To do so for anything less than love was madness. True, you could no longer imagine a life with Thor, but it was more than that now. You couldn’t imagine a life without Loki.

"Yes." The answer weighed heavy on your tongue as you gave it, seeming to take physical form in the air past your lips. "I am."

"I suppose that makes sense," Thor said. "It's not as if we know each other well." It wasn't soothing, per se. He wasn't comforting you, just stating a fact. Still, there was nothing harsh in his tone, no reprimand. Your nerves eased a little.

"I'm so sorry."

Thor stood. "Alright."

You startled. Alright? That was it? 'Alright' could mean a thousand things. Thor wasn't even going to ask who had stolen your affection?

Thor's hand settled over your shoulder, the same familiar, heavy weight it had always been, more brotherly than loving. "I'll take care of it. Don't worry."

#

This was bad. No, not necessarily bad. It could be good. Yes. Absolutely. Thor would take care of things. So that was good.

Unless it was really, really bad.

You paced the edges of your room, hands wringing over one another. You'd called for Loki, but with no result. You told yourself he was busy. He had to be. He said he would come and he would. Maybe it was still too early.

So you walked around and around in a dizzying loop. You sat on the couch and tried to read, only to set the book down in disgust and return to pacing.

Telling Thor the truth had been the right thing to do. It was only fair to him after all. And the only fair thing for Loki. Since you loved him and all.

You pushed that thought away. You couldn't deal with that now. One thing at a time.

What did 'I'll take care of it' mean? Any number of solutions sprung to mind, none of them straightforward. If Thor broke the engagement, where would that leave you? You had prepared your whole life to be a royal bride. What else was there for you?

Loki's interest in you was genuine. You didn't doubt that. But would that continue even if you were a maid in the city rather than a lady in the palace? You stopped the thought before it could journey too far. It wasn't for you to decide what would happen. Thinking about what you wanted was a fruitless effort.

And where in all the stars was Loki?

Darkness deepened outside your windows and the normal bustling chaos of the castle was replaced with the hush of sleep. Your anxious impatience burned down into smoldering resentment. If Loki didn't want to see you, you weren't staying up all night for him. You had enough to lose sleep over without waiting for him.

Sleep came in fits and starts. Every sound jolted you back to consciousness and when you finally drifted off, it was with the sudden sensation of sinking.

How long that lasted, you didn't know, but you came to awareness with a rush like rising for air after drowning. Your heart hammered against your chest, though in the dark you could sense no danger that would have startled you so. Your eyes adjusted and a shadowy form took place at the foot of your bed. Green eyes gleamed in the moonlight that lifted the haze of darkness from the room.

"Loki," you said, body relaxing at the realization.

His posture was stiff, sharp edges where you'd come to expect softness—at least, toward you. When he spoke, his voice was sharp as broken glass.

"You've managed to make a great deal of trouble, love."

Chapter Text

"You've managed to make a great deal of trouble, love."

Your heart stuttered against your ribs. "What happened?" You pulled your blanket closer to you against the chill that swept through the room.

"I'm surprised you can't hear Odin's rage from here," Loki said. "I thought surely he had woken all of Asgard by now." He prowled over the bed until he loomed over you and took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to meet his icy gaze. "Tell me: what possessed you to go to Thor for help?"

You shook your head. "I didn't—"

"No lies, pet."

"I'm not lying." You hadn't gone to Thor for anything. Not intentionally. Loki's eyes narrowed and you squirmed under his gaze. "I told Thor that I didn't want to marry him."

Loki released you. "Thor has asked that Odin break your engagement." You opened your mouth to reply, then closed it again. "You aren't surprised by this." No question. It seemed Loki already knew the answer. This wasn't an investigation. It was a trial.

"Thor…" Your voice felt small in the dark room. "Thor said that he would take care of it."

"Thor is an idiot."

Oh, stars, what had Thor told Odin? "What is going to happen to me?"

"Nothing yet," Loki answered. He stood from the bed, facing away from you. "Thor may be a fool, but he knows better than you when it's appropriate to lie. He won't betray your honor. He's told Odin that he wishes to break the engagement for his own reasons." You stared at Loki in stunned silence. "Naturally, this has backfired spectacularly." He turned around, anger simmering under his expression. "Odin has no intention of ending the betrothal. And since Thor has voiced his objection, it has only hastened your marriage."

Your mind spun over the new information. The engagement was not something you could break, for certain, but you'd never dreamed that same invincibility applied to Thor. If he didn't want you… "Why? I'm nobody. A… a minor noble. The king gains nothing through me."

"Don't be so self-centered," Loki snapped. "It has nothing to do with you. Odin made an oath to your grandfather. If Thor refuses to honor the engagement, Asgard will see it as a betrayal of that promise. A king that cannot be trusted to keep his word cannot be trusted at all."

"Then… then I'll go to Odin and explain that it was me." You tossed the sheets aside and started to stand. "That I was the one that—"

"Stop." Loki pushed you back. "Stupidity doesn't suit you. It is one thing for Thor to defy Odin. He has done so before. You are in no position to tell Odin anything."

The icy pit that had formed in your stomach ignited. Loki was treating you like a child. You stood from the bed to face him, an effect that was much diminished since you had to look so far up to meet his gaze. "You told me to do whatever I wanted." Your voice rose, filling the room. "That's what you said."

"I didn't think you would turn to my brother for help before me," Loki snapped, meeting your fury with his. "Odin will see you tied to Thor and he'll do it soon to avoid any obstacle. You have made things much, much worse."

You stepped into Loki's space, glaring up at him. "I was trying to fix it. I didn't want to marry Thor, so I told him so. I was honest."

"You were stupid."

You strode a few paces away and took a deep breath to try to collect yourself. When that didn't work, you whirled back to him, embracing the fight still roiling inside you. "Is that why you kept me isolated so long? That’s what you were doing, right? You didn't want me to find out about the coronation, so you kept me in your rooms."

"I should have kept you there longer."

Your temper unraveled. "You should have told me what was happening."

"Why?" Loki asked. "So you could run to Thor for help and make everything worse?"

"That's not what I—"

"That is exactly what you did." He stalked across to floor to you. You stood your ground though your heart beat in your ears. "All you had to do was sit back and trust me."

"How could I trust you if you didn't tell me that you were going to do anything?"

"I acted in your best interest."

"That is not for you to decide."

Loki snarled and turned away, pacing a tight circle that led right back to you. "You were naïve to think that telling Thor everything would end well for you."

"I didn't tell Thor everything," you said, wrinkling your nose. "I didn't tell him a word about you. So if you're worried about saving your own skin, you can stop."

"I don't have time to worry about myself," Loki said. "I'm too busy cleaning up after you. And I cannot fix this if I don't know how you broke it. What did you tell Thor?"

You snapped before you could think to check yourself. "I told him that I loved someone else." Your anger had burned through all your inhibitions, leaving your words unguarded. They came out as a challenge.

Silence greeted the admission. Loki's mouth opened, then closed again. He shook his head and looked away. "That was very stupid of you." His voice was soft.

"Fine." You stomped past Loki toward the door, too angry to form a cohesive plan. "Then I'll go tell Thor that I take it back."

"No, pet." Loki caught your wrist. "Come here."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to."

You snatched your arm from his grasp, blood boiling. "Try again."

Loki took you around the waist and turned you to face him. "Because you're angry with me"—he stepped closer so his body pressed all along yours—"and because I haven't yet found any better way to soothe you"—he ran the backs of his fingers over your cheek from temple to chin, then tipped your face up to his—"and because you said you love me."

Your heart thumped. Stars, you had done exactly that. You swallowed the frustrated tears that had gathered.

"Stop," you said and tried to pull away. There was a reason you were fighting with him, something important, but Loki's words and hands were quickly unravelling your resolve.

"Why?" he asked, fingers now twined in your hair.

"You always do this." You scrambled to collect your thoughts. "You come in here and—and you blame me for something and then you worm your way out of trouble and… stop smiling at me!" You shoved at him, but he held fast. "I'm mad at you."

Loki leaned his forehead against yours, fingers rubbing soothing circled against your neck. "I'm sorry."

You froze. "What?"

He placed your hand against his cheek and closed his eyes. "I'm not going to say it again, sweet."

"But you—"

Loki cut you off with a kiss that left you speechless. When he pulled away, he was still smiling. "Stay sweet, love. It's all right." He led you back to the couch, hands soft around your waist and voice soft in your ear. "I'm not angry anymore." He sat and settled you on his lap with your knees straddled over his hips.

You huffed. "I still am."

"You're allowed to be."

"I don’t want your permission." You tried to hold on to the anger still simmering in your chest.

"Hush," he said. "Berate me all you like, but be quieter about it."

You took a deep breath and fixed him with a glare. He didn't seem to notice, fixated instead on winding some of your hair through his fingers. "You told me to do whatever I wanted," you said.

"I did."

"And then you blamed me for it."

"I did."

"That's not fair."

He still didn't look at you. "Perhaps not."

"Today was terrible," you said. "And you didn't come here like you said you would."

Loki finally returned your gaze, a soft affection to contrast with your frustration. "I'm here now," he said. "Why didn't you tell me what you were going to do?"

"I wasn't—" You stumbled over the unexpected question. He really had fixated on that point. "I didn't plan to do it. It happened. He kissed me and—"

"Thor kissed you?" Loki asked. He cocked his head to the side. "And then you told him you loved me."

"That's not—" You flushed. "You're deliberately misunderstanding what happened."

"Then tell me what happened." Loki returned to playing with your hair. "What did you say?"

Your face burned. "You're making fun of me."

He smirked. "But you do love me."

"You're just trying to get out of trouble."

He traced a stray hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. "Still, you love me."

You huffed and looked away. "You're insufferable."

"And you still love me." Loki nuzzled at your temple, voice dropping to a whisper. "Say it, kitten." Your insides melted, persuaded by the soft lines his fingers drew over your skin. "Please."

You had to swallow your heart from your throat before you could speak. "I love you."

Loki let out a long breath and his body went lax against you. "Kiss me, sweet," he said. "It has been a trying evening and I want you to set my mind at ease."

You did, soft and slow. You let Loki slide his tongue past your lips when he tried, then let him slip his hands under the hem of your shift and over your legs.

"You're still an ass," you said when you pulled away for a moment.

"And you are far too forgiving." He kissed you again, harder this time. "Lucky for me."  His hands petted down your neck and arms, taking the straps of your nightgown with them so the cloth puddled around you.

You tangled your fingers in his shirt. "I still don't know—" He cut you off with another kiss. You broke away. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You're always thinking," Loki said. "You torture yourself with these worries."

"But—"

"Are you being married to Thor right now?" he asked. "Right this second?"

"No, but you said—"

Loki rubbed his nose slowly along yours. "The problem will still be there tomorrow. We'll handle it then." He untangled your fingers from his shirt, then pulled it over his head. Your hands went to his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. "Just keep your attention on me for now," he said in your ear. "You will have plenty of time to worry later."

Time slipped a little after that, blending into nothing but the feeling of your skin against his. Loki never stopped kissing you, leaving your nearly breathless. Every touch was gentle, guiding you where he wanted you, leaving you panting and whining against him.

Loki was right, you were far too forgiving. By the time you were both naked, you had let go of all but the last dregs of your anger. Even those fled when he positioned you over him, when he looked up into your eyes with unguarded affection as you lowered yourself over his erection.

He moaned as he kissed your neck. "You're wonderful, sweet," he said. "You're always so good for me. So perfect." His hands over your hips rocked you forward and back, moving you around him, pushing him deeper inside you. The room fell quiet with nothing but your breathing and his, the muffled sounds of you moving together.

This was different. Loki had never let you be in charge quite this way before. You rolled your hips over his, trying something new that made your jaw drop.

Loki laughed softly against your skin and ran his hands down your back. "Did you find something that you liked, love?"

You didn't answer and instead thrust against him harder so he cut off with a groan and bit into your shoulder.

Another stretch of silence as you lost your mind in the way Loki made you feel. He whispered sweet words against your throat. His hands stroked up and down your sides. He urged you on, but never faster than you wanted to go. It was slow and sweet and absolutely heavenly.

And a huge distraction.

You couldn’t be doing this right now. You had a disaster with Thor and Odin to fix. Your movements faltered.

"No," Loki said, voice as smooth and sweet as ever. "Keep your mind here with me, sweetheart. You don't have to think right now." His hand circled around your neck and he pulled your face to his, starting another long kiss. "Don’t worry," he said when he released you. He looked at you through clouded eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you." His thumb feathered back and forth over your cheek. "You trust me, love?"

"Yes," you answered, the words coming with no thought.

"Good girl." Loki wrapped one arm around your waist, placing his hand firmly against the small of your back. The other hand held your hip and urged you faster. The combination forced your body to roll over him differently than it had under your direction. It hit your center and your clit with every stroke and left you gasping against him. You let him take over—honestly, there really wasn't much of a choice. His every movement pushed your closer until you were pleading with him, barely coherent sounds muffled by his skin.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he said, whispering the command in your ear like a dark secret.

"But—"

"No arguments."

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and took over the last few strokes, thrusting hard against him and coming with a cry. Loki still held your hips and moved you when you couldn't anymore. His own climax followed soon after.

You took a shuddering breath and nestled closer against him. Loki gathered you in his arms. You waited for his steady heartbeat to sooth your own.

"What do I do?" you asked.

"You'll do nothing, sweet. Promise me that. I can't tell you everything I have in store, so I need you to trust me. Do everything Odin asks of you. Go along as if you plan to go through with the wedding. I'll take care of it."

Chapter Text

No one was telling you anything.

Even if Loki hadn't informed you of Thor and Odin's fight, you would have known that something was wrong. Rumors in Asgard took an almost tangible form. There were stares. And whispers. And glances that turned away too quickly when your eyes met theirs. Everyone knew something and no one wanted you to know what it was.

You stood in the great hall with your mother, hands clasped in front of you as Odin addressed the business of the day. He slid the announcement of your impending wedding date in among other, more mundane, news. A month. Just one. As Odin spoke, Thor opened his mouth in protest, but Loki laid a hand over his arm and whispered something in his ear. Thor stopped, though he didn't look any happier about it.

The news was greeted with a ripple of murmurs through the crowd. You felt the eyes of Asgard on you, a thousand tiny pinpricks that could leave you in a puddle of blood on the palace floor. You rolled your shoulders back and lifted you chin.

Odin was an excellent liar—perhaps that was where Loki gained the skill. His face betrayed nothing of his anger at Thor, even as Thor visibly fumed under his watchful eye. If you didn't know better, you would think that it was like any other fight that had erupted between the two before. But this time, you did know, and you knew it was about you.

Despite what Odin thought, despite all evidence to the contrary, you weren't going to marry Thor. Though, you still didn't know how exactly Loki intended to bring that about.

You're going to have to trust me.

Ugh. Trust. That wasn't something that came naturally to you. Your every instinct said to rely on yourself first and only. Yet you'd let Loki lead you around until you hung over a bottomless cliff, with only his support to keep you upright. And you had said you'd trusted him.

You were summoned to the throne as others were dismissed. If Odin expected you to have questions, he had no intention of answering them.  He instructed you to stay by Thor's side throughout the day, then left without hearing your response. Thor scowled after his retreating back.

"I'm sorry," you said, when others had drifted away and you were left with Thor. "I've caused a great deal of difficulty for you."

Thor shook his head. "I thought I could reason with him."

"Thank you for trying."

"I haven't given up." His brow furrowed and he looked at you quite seriously. "Will you be alright?"

Before you could answer, Loki appeared at your side. "It will be difficult," he said, "but I think she will survive. A broken heart still beats, after all."

Your mouth fell open. Was Loki really intending to approach this in so bald a fashion? You glanced back at Thor, but he seemed unsurprised.

"I told Loki of your circumstances," Thor said. "He can be trusted."

Stars, no he couldn't be. You swallowed the retort that rose on your tongue. Once again, Loki had lied to Thor, advancing an agenda to which you were not privy.

You're going to have to trust me.

You shook your head. "Thank you for your support," you said to Loki. Then, to Thor, "There have been worse starts to a relationship." You forced the smile even as your stomach turned. You were lying to him. You'd been honest that you loved someone else—at least he knew that—but this new conviction to be with him… that was false.

#

The best thing you could say about your day was that it ended. At least you'd had company in your misery. Thor hadn't seemed to enjoy the endless greetings and formalities any more than you had.

When the sun sank and everything at last seemed to be over, all you wanted was a bath and a book. If Loki happened to show up naked in your bed at some point, that would be nice too. Perhaps it would be better to start with that, then take the bath, then the book…

A hand pulled you into the shadows under the stairs.

"Hello, love." Loki smiled at you from the dark.

Even though exhaustion weighed your body down, you felt your spirits light at seeing him. You smiled. "I was just thinking about you."

Loki seemed almost taken aback by that, but regained his composure quickly. "Come with me." He turned and pulled you after him behind a tapestry and into a corridor that you didn't know existed. You followed, dragged along by your wrist. "I want to show you something."

Loki didn't pay you any attention as he walked, seemingly set on his task. You walked through endless halls, turning seemingly at random until Loki stopped in an unremarkable stretch of hallway. "Here."

You looked both directions down the corridor, but there was nothing but pillars and shadows in the fading light. "What could you possibly want to show me here?"

Loki turned you to face the side of the corridor. "This wall."

You scrutinized it—just a blank stretch of stone, no more remarkable than any other in the palace—then turned back to him. "Why is the wall special?"

Loki leaned in close so he could whisper his next words in your ear. "The wall is special, love, because the only thing I have been able to think about all day was how much I want to fuck you against it."

Your heart leapt to your throat. As much as you should have been mortified, you felt an electric thrill run under your skin at the notion.

"We can't," you said. You took a step back.

Loki followed, keeping the distance between you the same. "Why not?"

Stars, a million reasons. "Someone will see." You took another step.

Loki followed. "No they won't."

"Fine then, someone will hear." Your retreat stopped when you came up against the wall.

Loki took the opportunity to close the final distance between you, pressing you against the stone. "We'll be quiet."

"Loki—"

"Indulge me," he said. He ran his fingers through your hair and lowered his lips to your ear. "I've had to watch you charm my brother all day."

You bristled at the implication. "That is not what I was doing."

"Isn't it? When you put your hand on his arm, or looked up at him with those wide, shining eyes of yours, or when you stood on your toes so you could whisper in his ear—what did you think you were doing?" Loki nipped the side of your ear. "Or are you just now realizing your appeal?"

"I wasn't trying to—"

"You still did." He leaned away so he could look at you. "I've given one proposal for how I'd like you to pacify me. What do you think?"

Stars… you thought it was a terrible idea. Unwise, unsafe… and irresistible. After all, Loki said he'd been thinking of it all day. He'd always been accommodating of your fantasies, what was the harm in this? Loki seemed to take your silence for reticence. "You can always say no, sweet," he whispered, though his hands never wavered from their exploration of your form.

You swallowed. "No one will see?"

"No one will see."

"We"—your teeth scraped over your bottom lip—"we'll be quiet?"

Loki practically purred. "We won't make a sound."

"Alright."

Loki chuckled. "I'm not interested if only half your heart is in your answer." His hand tangled in the material of your dress, slowly hiking the fabric up your leg. "Try again, pet. Is this what you want?"

Your pulse thrummed and you struggled for your next breath. "Yes please."

Loki's lips wandered down your throat. "You trust me to take care of you?"

There was air here somewhere. There had to be. Why couldn't you find it? "Yes."

"Good girl."

Loki whirled you around so you faced away from him and pressed you against the wall with his body. You gasped against the stone, the reversal throwing your mind off balance. Loki's hands gentled you down, running soothing lines over your waist. He kissed and nipped at your neck and you tilted your head away to give him better access.

"Loki—"

"Hush, love. We're supposed to be quiet, remember?"

"Then why are you still talking?"

"Because you love the sound of my voice." Loki ran one hand down the length of your arm to tangle his fingers through yours. "I would never deprive you."

He brought your joined hands up and pressed your palm against the wall. Loki gently pulled the fabric of your skirt over your hips and ran his fingers down the bare skin of your ass, making you shiver.

"Feet a little farther apart, darling," he said. You complied and he hummed with pleasure. "You follow instructions so well sometimes. Remind me to explore that more later."

You struggled to follow Loki's words because in the next second, his fingers had sunk inside you. You bit your lip as his fingers slid over your folds, spreading the warm wetness and teasing your clit. You whined and Loki chuckled.

"Quiet, pet. You're breaking your own rule."

He was right. You'd be found. All of Loki's reassurances meant nothing if your voice rang through the halls. Stars, why were you doing this here. You were in the open, exposed in more ways than one. You stared down the hall, suddenly watchful for every shadow.

Loki must have noticed. He placed his free hand over your eyes, cutting off your vision. "Close your eyes, sweet. You're letting yourself get distracted." Your pulse spiked in a sudden panic and you curled your hands into useless fists against the stone wall. "It's alright, love," he said, voice soothing over your ruffled nerves. "It's just us here. I won't let anything happen to you." He murmured nonsense until your breathing evened out. Your paranoia was simply no match for his whispered words and the soft strokes of his fingers against your core. A wave of desire drowned out any lingering voice of doubt.

You pressed back against his hand, trying to get more and not sure how to do it. Loki released you, needing his hand back to undo the front of his pants. Before you could miss his attentions, he slid inside you.

He thrust against you. His hands held yours, fingers twined through yours and hanging on as if he couldn't let go. His forehead rested against your shoulder, words tumbling from his lips like he couldn't stop them, praise and endearments in equal measure. You got lost in the moment, forgetting where you were in the flood of more, yes, please. You pressed back against him, meeting each thrust. All your concentration narrowed to simply holding yourself together, keeping quiet.

Loki released one of your hands, leaving your knuckles white, and rubbed at your clit through the front of your dress. You gave a gasp that wasn't as quiet as it should have been. Yes, that. Your hand joined his, urging him faster. He obliged, making no protest against you giving instructions.

You unraveled and bit your lip against the cry that tried to escape. When it was done, your body went limp and, for a moment, you thought you'd fall, but Loki caught you around your waist. He chuckled and kissed your temple.

"Almost done, sweet." He held your hips in place and thrust into you hard and fast. You leaned your head against the wall, swallowing the cries that rose from your chest. Loki bit into your shoulder, thrust into you a few more times, and came with a shudder. Afterward, he dropped his head to your shoulder, breathing hard. You waited in the dark and quiet for your own heart to slow.

Loki eased from you and let your skirt drop back to the ground. His hands stayed on you, still supporting you, though you'd gained your footing again. He stayed close, penning you in by the wall, but letting you turn in his arms so you could face him.

You ran your fingers through his hair. He was unreasonably handsome like this. Honestly. No one had any right to look so good. And, of course, he knew that he did.

"That," Loki said as he ran his nose along your jaw, "was well worth waiting all day."

You frowned, remembering what he'd said earlier. "I wasn't flirting."

Loki laughed—no louder than a sigh—then pressed his lips against your pulse. "Lovely girl."

"I wasn't."

"It's alright, sweet."

"I—"

Loki cut you off with a kiss, his hand under your chin to tilt you up to him.

"I said that it's alright," he said again when he released you. "You should go to your room now. It wouldn't do for the future queen to be caught out at this late hour."

You rolled your eyes. "I'd be doomed if charged with all the things the future queen shouldn't be doing."

Loki laughed, kissed you one more time, and bid you goodnight.

Chapter Text

Loki sat on the couch, brow knit in concentration as he stared at the game board between you. It was a strategy game, one you were fairly good at playing—though, right now, you were using your skills in a wholly unorthodox manner.

"Are you trying to lose?" Loki asked.

"So what if I am?" you said without looking up at him. You moved a piece into a terrible position.

"There's no point in playing if you aren't trying to win."

"You want to win," you said, taking a sip from the teacup that sat on the nearby table, "and I don't care one way or the other." You were good at the game, but Loki was better. Never winning wasn't much fun, but teasing Loki was.

"So, you are aiming to lose." He prodded a piece forward.

"Don't complain." You ruined the intricate trap he'd woven by barging into it. "This way we're both happy."

"It takes all the fun out of the game."

"Why?"

"The point isn't to win, love, it's to beat you." He moved again, letting your previous blunder slide. "If you won't counter my moves, then my winning means nothing."

"How terrible," you said. "You can't enjoy winning unless it comes at my expense?"

"That is the point of playing the game."

"Well"—you picked up another piece and placed it in a vulnerable position—"I want to lose. How you feel about it is your purview."

"You have to try, pet." Loki moved again, pointedly not taking advantage of the opening you'd left for him.

You fought back the traces of a smile. "I don't have to do anything."

Loki snatched your hand from the piece as you made your move. He pulled you forward, so you knelt over the board, face inches from his. He gripped your chin in his fingers. "Play nice, sweet. I won't warn you again."

Your heart thumped against your ribs, from fear or excitement, you didn't know—you'd stopped keeping track of the difference. Your gaze dropped to Loki's mouth and you leant forward to press your lips against his.

Loki let you lead, soft and slow. You trailed your hands down his sides and let your weight rest against his thighs. When you pulled away, his eyes were hazy.

"You're trying to distract me," he said.

"Yes." You smiled. "Is it working?"

A knock at the door startled you. You recoiled from Loki, knocking the game from the couch in your haste.

Loki looked to you, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Did you make arrangements to meet with someone else in your rooms tonight, pet?"

You shushed him and scrambled off the couch. "You can't be here," you hissed. You hurried toward the door.

Loki lounged back against the cushions. "And yet how often I find myself here regardless."

You pressed your ear against the door, straining to hear a trace of whoever waited on the other side. "Go," you hissed to Loki, waving him off. "At least hide."

His eyebrows rose. "I will do no such thing."

A knock shook the door again, jarring you. You gave Loki a look of exasperation, which he returned with a smile. With trembling hands, you opened the door, but barely enough to show your form. You stood in the crack, blocking whoever stood on the outside from seeing into the room. Hopefully, it would be enough.

Thor stood on the other side, a look of perplexed politeness fixed on his face. A spike of fear stabbed through you. 

"May I come in?" he asked. Your panic must have shown on your face because Thor's smile dropped. He held out a placating hand. "It's alright. I guess that would seem improper."

Improper. Stars. How improper was it that his brother was the one you were blocking from view? You shook your head to clear the thought. "Did you need something?"

The corner of Thor's mouth quirked. "I wondered if you would like to go riding with me tomorrow. I'm going to the mountains."

"I—" Your thoughts sputtered to a stop. Riding. With Thor. It was… a date, the sort of romantic outing that others expected of you. Your stomach dropped. Worst of all, there was absolutely no excuse for you not to go.

"It's a beautiful ride," Thor continued, filling the silence where you had let the conversation fall.

"Yes." What else could you have said? "That sounds nice." The same rules were still in place. You were Thor's betrothed. With less than a month until your marriage, you were supposed to get closer to him. Never mind that you planned to betray him. Never mind that, in many ways, you already had. 

After pleasantries and assurances of a good time to come the next day, Thor left. You closed the door, letting your head sink against the wood panel. Behind you, Loki's laugh rippled through the air.

You turned and fixed him with a glare. "This is not funny," you said. You stalked across the floor back to him and whacked him with a pillow.

Loki didn't bother to suppress his smile. "I understand why you would not find it so." He stopped you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

"I don't like lying to Thor," you said with as much dignity as you could muster.

Loki rolled his eyes. "In the realm of all the lies that Thor has been told, I promise, this makes no significant contribution." His gaze turned sharp again. "What you should be worried about is how I am going to punish your infidelity."

You recoiled. "What?"

"You claim to love me, yet you arrange to go out tomorrow with another man. Shameless vixen."

"If anyone is shameless, it's you." You pulled at your wrists where he still held them captive. "You should go," you said.

"I should do many things." Loki looked up at you with wide eyes, using the same open expression that melted you every time. "Do you really want me to leave?"

Your heart sank and, for a moment, you clearly saw every thread that tied you to him, all the intricate ways that he'd wrapped you around him.

"No," you said. Of course not. You never wanted him to go.

"Good girl." He pulled you forward so you had no choice but to climb into is lap, straddled over his hips. He ran his hands up and down your sides and kissed the side of your neck.

"You're such an ass," you said, even as you relaxed into his arms.

Loki chuckled. He pulled back and looked you over from top to bottom. His eyes narrowed in careful consideration, as if sizing you. "Clothes off, I think."

You glowered at him. Your heart was still racing from the panic of Thor's visit and that was what he was thinking about?

Loki frowned. "Don't be obstinate, love. Do as I say."

You huffed and stood in front of him. You undid the ties on your dress (one of several that had appeared in your closet with no explanation) and let the fabric fall to the floor. Loki took his time admiring you, then held his hand out. You took it. He drew you forward so you stood between his legs. His fingers traced over the line of your waist, lingering over the curve of your hips. You shivered under his attention as he pressed a kiss to the center of your chest.

Loki pulled you onto his lap without warning, eliciting a startled squeak as you suddenly found yourself off your feet. His fingers tangled in your hair, mussing it from the careful arrangement you'd adopted before going out that morning. "You forgot to undo your hair," he whispered in your ear.

"You didn't mention that you wanted my hair down." You stretched in his arms, taking special care to roll your hips so that your ass rubbed over his lap. "You have to ask for what you want, Loki." The familiar phrase felt pleasant on your tongue. Games and tricks and traps.

Loki nipped at your shoulder. "Careful, spitfire. You don't know what I have in store for you tonight."

A thrill raced up your spine. Whatever Loki had in store, you were certain you'd enjoy it. "What do you want?"

Loki chuckled in your ear. "Good girl."

Loki moved you so that he lounged across the couch with you between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, ran his palms down your thighs. You felt the press of his erection straining against his pants.

"I want you to do as you're told, love. Yes?"

"Yes." The word came out breathy.

"Good girl." He nuzzled at your neck. "I want you to put on a show for me."

What? Like… dance or sing or… your mind stuttered to a stop when you stumbled across the answer.

I so enjoyed your shows.

You squirmed in Loki's grasp, suddenly too hot. "I—"

"No," Loki stopped your protest. "You promised to do as instructed."

"But—"

"No." Loki took your hand in his and brought it to his lips. He kissed each finger, then took two in his mouth, sucking along the length before releasing them. "You asked what I wanted, sweet. This is it. You're going to use these pretty little fingers to make yourself come for me."

Your heart panged and heat pooled low. Stars. You fought down the heat rising in your face. He'd already seen you… why did you suddenly feel so exposed? It wasn't as if this was anything new. And… and he'd said this is what he wanted.

"Answer me, love," Loki said, cutting through the rising panic and grounding you. "Are you going to do as I say?"

You swallowed. "Yes, Loki."

He hummed and nuzzled at your neck. "Try again."

You took a shuddering breath. Tricks and traps and games. "Yes, Master."

"Good girl."

You… you shouldn’t have felt awkward, but you did. Pleasuring yourself was something you did alone. Loki wasn't supposed to see this. Except… well… it wasn't the first time he'd made you touch yourself when you were with him either. Of course, then he'd been inside you, so it wasn't quite the same thing.

You started slow. Between the embarrassment and uncertainty, you were surprised to find that you were wet at all. You took a deep breath, finding comfort in the familiar motions. Honestly, there was no way you'd get off like this. Not with your head a jumbled mess.

"It's alright, sweetheart." Loki's voice was soothing in your ear. "Take your time." His hands slid over you, gripping your thighs, then cupping your breasts, then petting down the curve of your hips. "You're already doing wonderfully." His mouth trailed kisses over your neck and shoulder while soft, encouraging words fell from his lips like rain. There was no way to hold on to your anxiety with his every movement driving the thoughts from your mind. As your fingers dipped inside your core, your free hand came up to tangle in Loki's hair.

"That's it," he said, lacing the words with kisses along your ear. "You can hang on to me, sweet. I won't let you go."

Even as your movements pushed you higher, you knew it wouldn't be enough. Not with Loki so close. Not when you could hear him, feel his breath against your skin. Your body knew what else it could have and seemingly had no intention of being satisfied by your own attention.

You whined. "Please."

"Please what, love?"

"Please touch me."

"No," he said, "That's not the game we're playing right now."

"Loki…"

"Your voice is lovely when you call my name, sweet, but I think you've said enough for the evening. No more talking. You have other matters that require your attention."

Your fingers moved faster, making your body sing. Your muscles clenched under Loki's wandering hands. Every part of you waited on edge. Your head fell back against his shoulder, your breath coming in gasps now. If he would just touch you, you'd come undone at the seams. Stars, you'd beg him if he'd let you.

Loki never let you go, his hands moving over you in endless caresses. Torture. That was the only explanation. Loki was torturing you. And your body seemed to have ignited in response. All you could do was whine and whimper as your fingers coaxed you closer by inches. Close. So close. Almost there…

"Stop, love."

You almost cursed when Loki pulled your hand away, desire and desperation warring with what was left of your self-control. Loki laughed at the strangled sound you made instead.

"It's alright, sweet." Loki pushed you forward so you knelt on the cushions in front of him. He kissed your shoulder. "I'll take care of you."

You balled your hands into fists against the couch, unsure if you wanted to scream or cry. Your body ached, waiting in agony as Loki seemingly took all the time in the world to undress. When the tip of his cock teased against your entrance, you bit back the plea that rose to your lips. Loki tangled the fingers of one hand in your hair, the other hand going to your waist.

"You've been so good, sweetheart."

You barely heard the words through the litany of please that ran through your thoughts. Stars, he could end this. Why was he doing this to you?

"Are you ready to come for me now?" he asked. "You can say yes."

"Yes," you gasped. "Yes, please, yes, I—"

The rest of the words were cut off in a cry as Loki thrust into you, hard and fast, holding you to him by your hips. You shattered, losing track of what happened for the moments after. It was rough and relentless, a pounding pace that left you pleading against the cushions until Loki came with a shout a minute later.

Loki settled onto his side, pulling you down with him. His harsh breath mingled with yours in the small space between you. For a few minutes, that was the only sound in the room. You let yourself float, enjoying the soft ache in your body and the lax feeling that came with your release.

"Tell me again, love," Loki said, breaking the silence that had woven around you.

You lifted your eyes to his, at first uncertain of what he meant. The unguarded affection you found in his expression stole your breath. Of course.

"I love you," you said.

Loki let out a long sigh and kissed your forehead. "Good girl."

Chapter Text

Asgard boasted magnificent stables. Gleaming wood and gold shone in the construction of hundreds of stalls. The heady scent of sawdust and leather lingered in the air. The knicker and snort of the horses, the occasional stamp of a hoof, the voices of the stable hands as they called to each other set a soft, earthy atmosphere.

It wasn't that you didn't like horses. You did. They were graceful and majestic. They were also a few thousand pounds of living, breathing, thinking, obstinate animal, which was why you liked to admire them from afar. Whoever first though to sit astride one must have been very foolish. Or very drunk. Most likely both.  

Many in the court had their own horses: Thor (obviously), Loki, Sif, the other prominent warriors. Others borrowed when necessary from a set that belonged to the palace. This morning, that was your destination.

You passed the stall of Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged steed, and stopped, a familiar shadow catching your attention. You took a few steps backward, almost certain you hadn't seen what you thought, and peered in over the stall door. Loki stood at the horse's side, stroking the sleek black hide of the stallion's neck.

"What are you doing here?" you asked.

Loki didn't look up, but the quirk at the side of his mouth told you he'd been waiting to see if you'd notice him. "Just visiting."

"Liar."

Loki leaned closer to the horse's ear and said, "She's in fiery spirits this morning."

Sleipnir nudged him with his nose.

"Why are you really here?"

Loki smiled and smoothed Sleipnir's mane. "I don't need a reason. Perhaps I felt like taking a ride."

"You're here to make fun of me, aren't you?"

"I would never." His gaze lifted to yours and the edges of his mouth twitched. "Of course, assuming you do know how to ride…"

"Of course I know how to ride."

"Then what could I possibly make fun of you for?"

"Ah," Thor's voice came from behind you. "You're here already. Good." He came to your side, adjusting riding gloves as he walked, then noticed to whom you'd been speaking. "Loki," he said with a smile. "We're going for a ride in the mountains."

"That sounds romantic."

Thor laughed. "Join us."

What? No. You opened your mouth to protest, but Loki cut in before you could. "I'd be delighted."

That was that then. Instead of the difficulty of maintaining your lies in front of Thor alone, now you had the added complication of also juggling Loki's unpredictable nature. Your day had barely started and you were already exhausted.

Thor and Loki kept each other occupied as you found a stable hand a requested a horse. He brought back a chestnut mare, one that you had ridden before. She was easygoing, slow and steady, all admirable qualities in a horse. The stable hand prepped her for you and in a half hour you'd assembled with Thor and Loki in the stable yard.

A queasy sort of unease settled in your stomach. Riding usually gave you butterflies, but this was a different variety. Thor looked to you expectantly and you returned his smile. A tingle on the back of your neck let you know Loki was watching too.

This would be all right. It had to be. It was just a ride. No need to be nervous. Still, it was a full day's ride with the man you loved and the man you were to marry.

Stars.

You mounted with less grace than you would have liked, but at least you didn't need assistance. You refused to look at Loki once you settled into the saddle. He would have that glint in his eyes that meant he was silently laughing at you; you knew it without even having to see it.

You hadn't lied; you did know how to ride. But you never really spent much time around horses and it had been years since you had been in a saddle. Your highest hope for the day was that you wouldn't fall off. You even reserved a little wish that you wouldn't be too sore to walk the following day. It would all be fine as long as you didn't have to go anywhere fast…

Thor urged his horse into a canter and Loki followed suit. You looked after them in dismay.

#

You weren't the only one who was less than thrilled at the idea of spending the day loping along at the brisk pace that Thor set. Your mare was reluctant from the start, maybe sensing that her rider wasn't sure in her movements. After a while, you had to call for Thor to slow so she could have a rest.

The party slowed to a walk and you took in your surroundings (more than avoiding trees in a panic). You were deep in the forests that surrounded the palace now, surrounded by the sort of untamed wilderness that only Asgard could produce. Such a small world, on any other, there would be hardly anything untouched by civilization. The Asgardian love of all things wild was all that spared the forests and mountains from the creep of the city. Asgard had deep roots in nature. You really weren't any exception.

Now that you no longer had to concentrate solely on staying upright in the saddle, you could admire the beauty around you. The fresh green of the leaves was still young with the spring. The world still held the sort of sleepy quiet of winter, not yet chased out by the chaos and searing heat of summer. You savored that last quiet breath while you could.

Thor slowed until his horse walked aside yours.

"It's not long until summer," he said with a smile. "The trail will be even better then."

You smiled back, less fully than you'd have liked. Of course, Thor liked the summer. It was just like him, vivacious and eternally energetic. The never-ending chatter of animals and insects on summer nights suited him. Thor never seemed to stop moving, as if he never cared to be alone with his thoughts.

Thor continued, "Last year, at the summer solstice, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and I took flaming swords and—"

"I remember," you said. "You nearly burned down the festival tents."

"I"—Thor faltered, glanced at you, then away again—"don't recall you being there."

"I was." Of course you were there, but, as with many times, you had never burned brightly enough to catch Thor's attention.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Stars, Thor was always so quick to apologize. You weren't offended by his inattention, more relieved. The expression on Thor's face, however, seemed as if he had just discovered that he had stabbed you. You looked away, unsure how to handle the guilt in his eyes.

"You seem to know everything about me," Thor said, "And I know nothing about you." The statement cut through you—not because of how shamefully true it was, but because how clearly distressed Thor seemed at the discovery.

For a minute, there was only the crunch of the horses' hooves over the ground.

"I promise," Thor said, voice filled with conviction as if he swore an oath of fealty, "I will make Odin change his mind."

"Odin won't change his mind," Loki responded from where he rode ahead, the first indication that he had been listening to your conversation at all. "Odin won't do anything unless he thought it was his idea first." He turned to look at Thor. "You're remarkably similar that way."

Your heart sank. Loki had reassured you now countless times that he was going to handle your situation, but what he said to Thor rang true. If so… perhaps there was nothing anyone—even Loki—could do.

#

When you returned to the palace that night, you felt as if your mind had melted and run out of your ears. You didn't have the energy to think of more than putting one foot in front of the other. You'd spent the entire day holding up a wall of anxiety, desperately hanging on to your self-control so as to never slip. In the aftermath, you were left defenseless. The slightest blow would have left you in pieces crumbled on the floor and swept away in the winds.

You didn't notice where your feet had carried you until you stopped in front of the door. You'd meant to return to your room, to collapse into bed with no more thought than to sleep. Instead, you stood at the entrance to Loki's rooms. Home. That's where you'd wanted to be. With no direction, your body had taken you here.

You should have gone back to your room—you had seen Loki all day, after all—but you found yourself raising your hand to knock nonetheless.

Before your knuckles could meet the wood, a hand stopped you, fingers covering yours. You looked over your shoulder to see Loki standing behind you.

"Come inside, pet," he said and reached around you to open the door.

Loki led you to the couch and laid down, pulling you down with him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and nestled your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He draped one arm over you, holding you to him, and carefully undid the pins from your hair with the other. His normal scent—of the forest and soil and things too wild to be captured—had intensified, surrounding you in its embrace.

Loki didn't speak and neither did you. Instead, you soaked up his presence, enjoying the feeling of his fingers running through your hair as he stroked out the tangles that had formed from the day's ride. Every so often, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You had sank into a half slumber when his voice lured you back.

"I'd like for you to stay here tonight, love."

You nodded, rubbing your cheek against his chest in a sleepy imitation of a cat, but otherwise not moving.

Loki was quiet for a moment before speaking. "Sweetheart, you should sleep in a bed."

You curled up more tightly on top of him, not answering.

"You need to move," he said.

You shook your head.

"Stubborn spitfire."

He stood, lifting you into his arms in a single motion. The sudden movement jolted you awake and you grabbed his shoulders for balance though he already held you securely against falling.

Loki carried you into the bedroom and set you on your feet by the water basin. He removed your clothes, letting them puddle around your feet on the floor. When he reached for the washcloth, you stopped him.

"You don't have to. I can—"

"No, love. Be good and let me."

Your hands dropped to your sides. There was no defense against that. Loki ran over your skin with the cloth, lingering at your hands, taking the time to clean each of your fingers individually. When he moved on to your face, you had to drop your gaze, unable to hold his with the intensity in his eyes. When he finished, he tipped your chin up and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

"Get in bed."

You did, climbing under the sheets and turning on your side so you could watch as he undressed and washed.

He took off each item of clothing, folded it, and set it aside, unaware of your continued examination. Stars, you'd admired him before, but had you really? When was the last time you'd taken the time to just drink in the sight of him? Long lines, lean form, muscles that dipped into intriguing curves… he was fantastic. He wasn't trying to impress you, but the sight of him as he moved, every part of him as perfect as the next, was entrancing.

You turned away before he finished, suddenly self-conscious of your own brazenness. Loki slid between the sheets behind you and pulled you back so you were flush against him. He draped his arm over your waist and kissed your shoulder.

"You're suddenly so shy, pet. I thought you were enjoying the view."

Stars, of course he noticed. You shook your head, hoping he would drop it. He didn't.

"I like that you find me attractive," he whispered, lips still pressed against your skin. "Look as long as you wish."

You turned in his arms and cuddled closer, tucking your head under his chin.

"You don't have to hide," he said into your hair. "You do love me after all."

"That's your fault," you mumbled, letting his warmth seep through you.

Loki chuckled and his arms tightened around you. "I'll allow you to blame me for that, sweet. It seems only fair."

Chapter Text

"I don’t know how I feel about this," you said. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, a subtle retreat from where Loki had crowded into your space.

Loki leaned his forehead against yours and tucked your hair behind your ear. His voice was barely a whisper, only enough to fill the space between you. "It isn't anything you haven't done before, love."

"This is different." Your teeth scraped over your bottom lip.

"You said you wanted to try it."

You looked up at him and felt a frown tug at the corners of your lips. "No, you said I wanted to try it."

"It's the same thing."

"It's not the same thing at all."

"I'll be right here the entire time, sweet."

"Why should I believe you?" You dropped your gaze from his, turning instead to watch your fingers fidget over each other.

"Because you love me." Loki stilled your hands with his and ran his thumbs over your knuckles. "And because you know I'll ensure that you enjoy yourself."

"You won't leave me?"

"Never."

You took a deep breath, held it in, then released. "…Okay."

"Try again, sweet." Loki chuckled. "I won't accept anything less than enthusiasm. I'm not doing this for me."

Your eyes snapped back to his, the frown returning just as quickly. "You're the one that suggested it."

"Do you want to try or not?"

"Fine." You huffed. "Yes. Please."

"Good girl." Loki kissed your forehead, then said his next words with his lips still pressed against your skin. "You have to get on the horse now."

You stepped away and looked to the chestnut mare who had stood by and watched you throughout your conversation, unconcerned. She blinked her big, dark eyes, as if waiting for you to tell her what to do next. You stroked your hand down the blaze of white that ran the length of her nose, the tiny furs soft under your hand.

Loki took the reins, keeping her in place as you crossed to mount. You tried, but couldn't quite pull yourself up enough and landed back on the ground.

"Do you need something to stand on?" Loki asked. "Or perhaps a shorter horse?"

"Perhaps a different instructor," you muttered. This time, you managed to pull yourself up properly.

Loki placed the reins in your hand and walked around the mare, examining your position. You shifted under his gaze.

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone so clearly uncomfortable," he said. "If I hadn't witnessed it myself, I'd be certain that this was your first time on a horse."

"If your only intention is to mock me, I would rather return home."

"You need to learn how to ride properly."

"I do know how to ride properly."

"A well placed breeze could knock you to the dirt right now."

"I won't sit here and suffer your abuse." You made to dismount, but Loki pushed you back into the saddle.

"Don't be difficult, sweet. You know things are much easier if you do as I say." You glowered at him, but didn't protest any further. Loki patted the mare on the neck and led you toward a ringed section of field.

Riding in the ring wasn't so bad. Loki stood on the side, calling instructions to you every so often, but for the most part, you and the mare kept to yourselves. Without others to keep pace with or the fear that your horse would bolt out from under you at any opportunity, you found yourself actually… enjoying it. You still weren't good, by any means, but you didn't fall. Only once did you come close—when the mare stumbled—but you kept your grip steady. You needed a few strides to regain your bearings, but as soon as you'd slowed to a walk, you turned to look at Loki, beaming.

Loki wasn't watching.

A woman had joined him alongside the fence. She was familiar—another lesser noble like you—but not someone that you could name on sight. Her long, raven hair fell loose along her back, a few tendrils waving in the wind. Your hands clenched around the reins.

No.

You sat straighter in the saddle and fought down the surge of annoyance. Absolutely not. You were not going to be the woman who came unhinged over something like this. Loki could talk to whomever he pleased. It wasn't as if you had any claim over him.

Still… it stung. You circled the ring a few more times, keeping your gaze in front of you to stop it from wandering to Loki. You couldn't hear what they said to each other, but the wind carried the sound of his laugh to you. A few more laps and you'd had enough. Steadfastly ignoring Loki was just as bad as storming off in a huff, which was just as bad as losing your temper and throwing a fit. All showed that you were bothered. And you would not be bothered. You would not.

You dismounted and approached the pair, your mare nudging at your arm with each step. A smile came to your face automatically when the woman turned to you. You'd trained to be polite your entire life; such things don't go away.

She nodded to you. "My Lady."

"Are you finished for the day?" Loki asked. He leaned forward against the fence, regarding you just as coolly as if you were only the future sister-in-law that others believed you to be.

You shifted the reins from one hand to another, looking away. "Yes, thank you."

"You did lovely," the woman said. "Are you just now learning to ride?"

You smiled through the slight because that was what you were trained to do. "I'm getting back into the habit."

Her expression faltered as she realized her mistake.

You exchanged a few more pleasantries then excused yourself to return the mare. It wasn't in your nature to belittle others. Whether she'd offended you or not, she didn't deserve to be made to feel a fool. You didn't wait to see if Loki followed you.

#

Bathing didn't make you feel better. You sat in the water, seething to yourself with no outlet for the mass of frustration that swirled inside you.

No matter how much you didn't want to be, you were bothered. Loki had seemed as if he wanted to be with you. He had never said so explicitly… but wasn't that the whole point? He had warned you away from asking Odin to break the engagement—he had told you to trust him—and you had listened. Everyone believed you were still engaged to Thor… because you were. You had no claim on Loki. None. And that was his fault, not yours. It was his fault that you shouldn't be angry with him. And, for that reason, you hated him all the more.

Loki waited for you in your room when you came out of the bath, lounging across your bed as if that was where he belonged. You nodded to him as you passed, but did nothing more. Instead, you busied yourself with arranging your hair, pulling the wet strands into some semblance of order. You felt Loki's gaze on your back the entire time.

"You really are a terrible liar," he said.

"I haven't said anything."

"True, but you're pretending to not be irritated."

You let your hair fall back down and turned to glower at him over your shoulder. "Do you want me to be irritated?"

Loki stood off the bed and paced toward you with measured, even steps, a predator's stalk. "A little irritated," he said. He reached you and took your hand in his, drawing you to stand before him. "It's a shame to go through all the effort and not see any result."

A sound like an angry hornets' nest settled behind your ears. Not only had Loki done it, he'd done it with the intention of hurting you. "That's a terrible thing to say," you said.

Loki raised your hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle. "Is it so terrible that I want to know you want me?"

"You know that I want you." You snatched your hand away. "You make me say it every other sentence."

"Actions are more appealing."

You glared at him. "And what would you have me do?" you snapped. You took a step back and shook your head to clear the buzzing that clouded your thoughts. "Shall I slap her? Or would that ruin all you carefully calculated plans?"

"No, spitfire." Loki chuckled and drew you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. You pushed against him to no avail. "You're glorious when you're angry, but I only want your eyes on me."

"So, you are trying to make me mad at you." Worse than feeling angry was knowing that you were doing exactly what he wanted.

"It's such fun. You get this glow about you."

"What is it you want from me?"

Loki murmured against your ear, "I want you to remind me why it is I want you."

You shoved hard, fire lighting in your chest, and Loki released you. "If you can't remember, then leave."

"No, sweet." He traced your cheek with his fingers. "Try again."

You swatted his hand away. "Try nothing. I don't feel like playing your games."

Before you could stop him, his arms had snaked around your waist and pulled you back to him. "You play them so wonderfully." Every time you disentangled yourself from him, he managed to find another way to hold onto you. It was like grappling with an octopus.

"You're a terror today," you said.

"Don't you want to make me say I'm sorry?" he whispered into your ear.

Your mouth went dry at the thought. That… was exactly what you wanted. Loki took the opportunity of your distraction to walk you backwards toward the bed. He murmured in your ear all the while until he fell back with you on top of him.

You sat up beside him, pushing your hair out of your way. "This was your intention all along, wasn't it?" you asked.

"I just want to see what you learned today." He ran his hands over your thighs, pushing your dress up around your hips without seeming to do so.

"Learned?"

"About riding."

Pieces clicked into place in your mind. Tricks and traps and games—so like Loki, to never ask for what he wanted, but to contrive to get it all the same.

You sank against him placing a line of kisses up his throat. "You're asking me to ride you?"

"I'm not asking for anything."

You snickered. Of course not; that wasn't how Loki operated.  You sat back and ran your hand over the front of his pants, feeling the hardening length of his arousal pressing against the fabric. You undid the fastenings, taking your time and relishing the way he watched your every movement.

"I believe you were going to apologize."

"Give me what I want and I will."

"I thought you weren't asking for anything."

"Vixen."

Your hand wrapped around him and you stroked him once, a gentle concession that would do nothing but wind him higher. "An apology starts with 'I'm sorry'. Try again."

"I've been terrible to you today, sweet. Can't you ever forgive me?"

You laughed. It wasn't right, but it would serve well as a starting place. You swung your leg over him, sinking low enough that the head of his cock teased at your entrance. Loki's eyes slipped closed and his hands settled over your hips.

"Well, if it's what you want…" you said, sinking a little lower so he pressed inside you.

Loki's eyes opened, mischievous fire blazing behind them. "What I want"—he thrust up into you so you gasped—"is for you to fuck me properly."

You could do that. You sat back, your hands trailing over his torso and rolled your hips. His cock hit deep inside you. Loki's hands rocked your hips back and forth, pushing him deeper with each thrust. You lapsed into moans and sighs as you picked up the hard rhythm that he urged you toward. Loki laid back and let you take control. He watched you through lidded eyes, his hands only holding your hips now.

You fell into the pattern, finding the best way to move so that he hit every part of you that made you see stars. You tangled your fingers through Loki's and stretched his arms over his head. It brought your face close to his so your breaths mingled.

"You didn't react as I'd wanted today," Loki said.

"And what did you want?"

Loki pushed you to the side and rolled on top of you. You gasped, mind blanking at the sudden reversal. Loki loomed over you. "I wanted your attention." He thrust inside you hard and you clutched at his shoulders, burying your face in his neck. "Do I have it?"

You whined and wrapped your legs around him. Loki laughed in your ear.

"I thought you were going to make me say sorry," he said.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Won't you?"

Loki faltered. A look of shock crossed his face. Your words seemed to weigh on him, his movements gentling as you spoke.

"I didn't want to be angry," you said. You combed your fingers through his hair. "I can't call you mine. It's not fair to blame others." You hadn't realized how much that hurt until you heard the thickness in your voice. You swallowed and looked away.

"No, sweet." Loki turned your face back to his. He'd slowed to a gentle rhythm, an easy slide in and out. "Don't be upset. It's alright." He kissed over each of your eyes then pulled you into a long kiss that left you breathless.

Time slowed and your world contracted to just you and Loki, the movements of your bodies together. He whispered sweet words to you, palms stroking over your waist. Your senses narrowed to the way your body seemed to sing under his attention. The room fell into a hush and when you finally climaxed, it was with a sigh of relief, like letting go of all your worries.

Loki let you lie against him, quiet in the minutes that followed, and busied himself with tracing lines against your skin.

"You're a better person than I am," he said. The words broke whatever spell you'd fallen under. You looked up at him, thinking clearly again. He continued, stroking his fingers through your hair, "I hate to see you speak to others. I want you all to myself. I'm a dreadfully selfish person."

Your heart panged. There was too much truth in his voice. "Don't say that." You took his face in your hands. "You aren't."

He kissed your forehead. "You must truly be in love with me, to see any good at all."

"How can there not be good in you?" you asked. "When you treat me so wonderfully?"

"Only you." Loki pressed your hand against his cheek. "Do you still trust me, love?"

"Yes."

"Good." Loki settled back against the pillows and pulled you against his chest.

Chapter Text

It was one thing for Loki to command your hands to stay in place. You didn't mind that—in fact, you loved it—but you could always disobey if you wanted to. After all, the only thing that kept your hands in position was you.

For him to tie them, however…

You tugged at the length of rope that Loki had wound around your wrists, binding them together. He hadn't secured you to anything. Not yet, anyway. You knelt on his bed, naked except for the rope. It was emerald green, soft to the touch, and wrapped halfway to your elbows. Loki let the free end rest loosely in his hand.

"How does it feel, pet?" he asked.

You cocked your head to the side, examining the careful binding from all sides and tugging at it again. It wasn't tight—certainly not painful—but you couldn't hope to get out of it. Static buzzed just behind your temples. Nerves… and something else that made you hot all over.

"It's…"—you bit your lip, unsure how to explain the mix of feelings—"secure."

Loki smirked. "I suppose that's the point. What I wanted to know was whether that feeling appeals to you."

"I'm not sure," you said. You flexed your hands, feeling the way the rope adjusted to accommodate the motion. Loki waited for you to continue. You looked up at him. "You aren't going to leave me in here alone again, are you?" A flash of indignation ignited at the memory of Loki fastening you to the bed.

"No, sweet," he said, pulling you forward so he could place a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Not like this. You'll have my undivided attention." When you didn't respond, he prompted you again. "Do you like it?"

"I"—you flexed your hands again—"I think I do."

"Brave girl." Loki ran the end of the rope through his hands, winding it and unwinding it around his palm.

You watched him do so for a minute, waiting for whatever came next until you weren't certain something would come next. "What now?" you asked.

Loki laughed. "You're so impatient, spitfire." He pulled the end of the rope, a sudden jerk that yanked you off balance and tumbled you into him. He caught you, one arm around your waist, the other over the binding that covered your wrists. "What happens now," he said, "is that I get to see just how far you'll go before you fall apart in my arms."

You swallowed. Yes, please.

Loki nudged you until you laid backwards, then stretched your arms over your head and secured the loose end of the rope to the headboard.

Momentary panic fluttered through your veins. You pulled at the rope, the tether holding you securely from moving. Loki could do whatever he wanted with you like this. He could leave entirely—promises or no—and you couldn't do anything about it.

Loki brushed your hair from your face, murmuring soothing nonsense. "It's alright, love. I'm still here."

You swallowed. Stars, this was madness. You should never have agreed to this. Loki traced lines down your body with his fingers, running across your ribcage, over your stomach. It was a tease—of course, it was a tease. Loki had you at his mercy, exactly as he always wanted. He was under no obligation to do anything more than taunt you and you were in no position to make him regret that decision. Minutes passed and, whether you wanted to or not, you relaxed into the feeling. Loki would do as he willed; you couldn't change that. All you could do was enjoy his attentions. Once you came to that conclusion, your body seemed to melt into the bed.

Loki seemed satisfied by that. "I don't have any rules for you this time," he said. "But, if I ask you a question, I would like you to answer it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Loki."

"Good girl." He pulled your hips toward him, stretching your arms against the rope so you no longer had any room to move. Your heart panged against your chest.

"You're lovely like this, sweet," Loki said. "How does it feel for you?"

"Tight," you answered. You squirmed under his gaze. It was the truth. Not necessarily good or bad, but just past comfortable. You could feel the ropes there, feel as if you were pulled tight between them and Loki.

"That's fine, darling," he said. Loki's fingers slid inside you. You gasped and arched, feeling the way the restraints pulled against you. Loki chuckled. "See?" he whispered against your ear. "Look how much room you have to move. You're hardly tied down at all."

You whined in response.

Loki placed kisses over your torso as he lowered himself between your legs, interspersing each with licks and bites. He settled between your thighs and ran his palms up your legs from ankle to hip. "Get comfortable there, love," he said. "I plan to take my time with you."

He looped your legs over his shoulders and buried his face between them. He didn't start slow, seemingly intent on driving you mad from the outset. He licked and sucked at your clit until you were left panting. Your hands stretched, fingers reaching as if they could bury themselves in his hair. You couldn’t move. Though your legs were free, you had nowhere to go with Loki's warm weight pinning you. Even when you squirmed and writhed, his hands still held your hips firmly in place.

It wasn't like before. Before, you'd always had to carefully keep your mind with you, keep your attention on what your hands were doing, if only a little. Your focus was always split, trying to do one thing while your body desperately scrambled to do something else. This wasn't like that. You couldn't move your hands, so there was no need to think about them. In the absence of that, you had nothing else to do. You couldn't move, you couldn't think, you could hardly breathe. In the mad ecstasy, the tether seemed to become an anchor to you, solidity and surety against an onslaught of sensation. You held to the rope like a lifeline, keeping the tension tight enough that you felt the pressure all through your hands. You could do nothing and without that rope there, you would fly away. The only thing you could do was hold on tightly.

Sound flowed from you in an endless stream, words and pleas, cries and whimpers. You called Loki's name to the ceiling and whispered it like a secret. And still he focused only on you. His tongue swept inside you and your hips bucked against him. Then his fingers followed after and you could have sworn that the only thing that held you in the room was the rope that tied you to the bed.

Stars faded in and out of view as you lost track of time. Loki pressed you close to the edge time and again, so close you felt like you'd shatter at any moment, but always backed away at the last moment, soothing you down with gentle strokes. Pleas turned to curses whenever this happened and half the time Loki had to stop in a fit of laughter. When he finally did give you a release, he didn't stop. Even when you writhed and cried under his hands, he stayed where he was, using coaxing motions to build back a fire that you were certain couldn't be reignited.

Your hands cramped from where they held tightly to your bindings. You lapsed into begging, no longer listening to what you said, no longer checking what promises you might make to him.

Loki kissed the insides of your thighs, even as his fingers stroked inside you. You cried and whined and the sounds reverberated from the ceiling. The fingers of Loki's free hand dug into your leg and his kisses grew hungrier until one turned into a hard bite.

You yelped and arched against the feeling. It was a sharp, quick pain—there and gone in an instant—and it grounded you like a bolt of lightning.

Yes, please.

Loki's gaze snapped to yours, first in alarm, then turning to a miniscule appraisal. Heat flashed behind his eyes.

"You have so many surprises for me, spitfire," he said. He ran his palm carefully over the spot, which ached at the touch. "We'll explore that one in more detail later. For now…"

Loki lifted your hips from the sheets and positioned his hips between your legs. You felt the head of his cock press against your entrance and your core throbbed.

For all the fire, for all his insistent kisses, you expected him to thrust hard, to pound into you until you forgot your own name. But he didn't. At least, he didn't start that way. He started with a gradual thrust, a slow slide. You moaned at the stretch. His hands tightened around your hips and when you looked at him, his eyes were closed, mouth open, brow furrowed. So handsome. He pressed all the way inside you and held you there, arms practically shaking.

"Please, Loki," you said.

He looked to you, blinking a few times to clear a haze that had settled in his eyes. "Something you want, love?"

You opened your mouth then closed it again. Yes. There was something you wanted. But… embarrassment burned through you, threatening to show and you swallowed it back. How to say it?

"I—" You scrapped your teeth over your lip, trying to piece together the right way to convey what you wanted. You wanted fierce and hard. You wanted Loki to not think about you, to focus so much on himself that he forgot. Because, of course he would never forget about you. "You don't have to be careful with me," you said.

Loki's eyes went wide. He still held you to him, intimately entwined. His hand smoothed over your side. His eyes shifted to away, like there was something else he needed to consider, then back to you.

"Say you love me," he said.

"I love you." The words came without hesitation.

Loki took a shaky breath and his hand smoothed up your stomach. He lowered your hips back to the bed. You opened your mouth to protest, unsure how you'd been misunderstood. Loki covered your mouth with his hand. "Hush, love. Don't worry."

He thrust into you. Hard. Then again. You cried out against his hand. Loki's form covered yours. His fingers dug into your skin. He bit into your shoulder, strangled shouts and moans muffled by your skin. It was hard. It was rough. And it was fantastic. Every sound Loki made went straight through you. You could feel his passion, his ecstasy, with his every movement. When he came with a cry, so did you.

Loki took a minute to catch his breath before he untied the end of the rope from the headboard, letting you pull your hands back toward you. You rolled into him, mind hazy. You pressed your forehead against his chest and closed your eyes. His scent and warmth surrounded you, even as his arms pulled you closer.

"How are you, love?" Loki asked.

"You already know," you said, not bothering to open your eyes.

"For shame, spitfire." He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "Be sweet or I'll think the last time wasn't enough to subdue you."

Heat flashed through you at the thought, but the ache in your body told you that you weren't quite ready for that again. Instead, you burrowed into him, like you could touch every part of him at once.

"I feel amazing," you said.

Loki kissed the top of your head. "Good girl."

You laid in Loki's arms, soaking up his presence. His hands wandered over you, as if Loki were lazily committing the curves of your body to memory. Loki nuzzled at your neck, kissing just over your pulse. You hummed and arched to bare yourself to him.

But the kiss turned to a bite. You jerked in his arms as Loki sucked a bruise to life on the skin. You writhed against his grip, a protest met with no response. When he pulled away, you met his grin with a glare.

"Must you?" you asked. "Every time?"

Loki brushed his fingers over the new mark and rubbed his nose against yours. "You're mine, love." Your heart forgot to beat. Loki lifted his gaze to yours. "For now, we must pretend otherwise. But you are mine and you have been for a long time." His hand ran up the length of your spine and he pressed your head to his chest again. "Just a little longer, sweet. I'll have new ways to claim you soon. Let me have this in the meantime."

Chapter Text

If a wedding was a celebration of marriage, why in all the stars were there so many other parties to attend first? Your life over the past two weeks had turned into an endless parade of feasts, fairs, and festivities. Every night, there seemed to a new reason for toasts—to your health, to your happiness, to your future children—and all the while, a stone grew in the pit of your stomach. Your wedding date ticked closer with each cheer and raised glass. As it approached, the union seemed more and more unavoidable. Whatever Loki had planned, he was running out of time.

The party roared around you, the clamor and clash of merriment as loud as any war. Thor's arm rested over your shoulders, a weight that held you in place like a pillory. He spoke with those around you and you choked back the panic that simmered just under your smile. It was all you had to do—be present, pretty, and polite—and it was nearly impossible. The crowd crushed in around you on all sides, drunken, delighted guests all clamoring to wish you and your fiancé well. There were too many of them, too close. They sucked all the air out of the room.

You stepped out from under Thor's arm, suddenly struggling to breathe. Thor looked to you in alarm—he wasn't as good as you were at hiding his emotions, he had never needed to be—and you covered for yourself by taking a gulp from your glass. The wine stuck in your throat, as if you'd swallowed glue.

"I'll just"—you grimaced and hoped it looked enough like a smile to pass—"I'll be right back." You indicated your drink, as if that was the reason for your excusal, though it was only half-empty. You strode away before you could really gauge how others reacted. You needed quiet—a room, a closet, a corner, anything—somewhere where you could stitch yourself back together before you unraveled.

By the time you reached the edge of the room, your hands were shaking. You pressed them against your stomach to hide the tremor. Fewer people looked at you here, not drawn by the beacon that was Thor's presence.

You found a spot behind a pillar, standing in a shadow barely large enough to cover you, and pressed your head against the cold stone. Your heart pounded, though there was no reason. It was as if a storm had gathered, ominous clouds roiling overhead, the air holding its breath for the rain to fall. Waiting, waiting… and never breaking. It was an endless precipice, a dark void waiting to swallow you, but you wavered on the edge, knowing you would tumble, but never quite doing so.

"Are you alright?"

You turned to find Thor at your shoulder. Your heart lurched in response. Really, could anything be worse right now?

"I—"

"You don't have to lie," he said, cutting off the excuse that has sprung to your lips automatically.

You blinked, finding tears were gathering. "No," you admitted, "I'm not alright."

Thor looked back to the rest of the room, to the crowd that somehow hadn't seemed to notice him come to you. "This is a mess."

You nodded.

"No way to punch my way out of this one, is there?"

Your gaze jumped to him just in time to see the ghost of a smile play over his lips. Was that… did Thor just make a joke? Not that he didn't joke… just that… never to you, never about himself.

You warmed. "I suppose there isn't."

"Well,"—Thor looked down at you with a smile—"if I must be forced to marry someone, I'm fortunate that it's you."

You blinked. A pleasant sort of tingle crept up your spine. Thor really thought highly of you? You had always been friendly, but… wow.

He continued, "I mean, you are—" He gestured to your form and your spirits plummeted. Oh. He thought you were attractive. It was flattering, but hardly the same.

You looked away and when you looked back, Thor was much closer than he had been. He laid his hand against your cheek. Your mind flashed back to the last time he had kissed you in the gardens, when you had admitted you didn't want to marry him.

"What are you doing?" you asked. You took a step backward, but came up against the wall.

"Nothing we won't do again." He leaned in toward you.

Your heart leapt to your throat. No. No, absolutely not. You placed your hands between you, a useless barrier that only ended with your palms pressed against his chest. He wrapped one arm around your waist to pull you against him, the other hand going to the nape of your neck. You froze. You couldn't shove him off—he was monstrous!—and, even if you could, doing so in a crowded room of well-wishers was a social catastrophe.

But when Thor kissed you, reason went out the window. You recoiled, body crying out at the violation. You struggled in his grasp to no avail. He forced your response, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You winced, his hands now holding you too tightly. You jerked your knee up between his legs and he pulled back. But he didn't release you.

"Brave girl," he said. His eyes flashed. "Try again."

Your eyes went wide as the familiar phrase tipped you into recognition.

"Loki!" You shoved against him with renewed force and, this time, he took a step back. The glamour lifted and you saw him for himself, rather than the smiling face of Thor.

Fire swept through you. It was an awful trick—a horrible, terrible, treacherous, hateful thing to do. Loki reached for you and you slapped his hand away. Your temper had burned through any restraint. You grabbed your wine from the table and emptied the contents across his face. That was when you realized that the whole of Asgard seemed to be staring at you.

A laugh broke the shocked silence. Fandral came forward to clap Loki across the shoulder.

"You're losing your touch," he said. "She saw through your trick almost immediately."

Loki's gaze lingered on you before he turned to Fandral. "It was just a bit of fun," Loki said.

You scowled at him, wishing your glass was full so you could dowse him all over again.

Loki smirked at you. "My, you do look angry." He spread his arms, a pacifying gesture. "I didn't think you'd mind kissing your fiancé. You will have to forgive me if I've offended your sensibilities."

You opened your mouth to tell Loki exactly where you wanted to shove your sensibilities, but Thor appeared from the crowd before you had the chance to form the words.

"You'll be made to pay for that, Loki," Thor said. His hand settled on your shoulder. Despite the familiarity of the benign gesture, your skin crawled at the touch, at the memory of Loki's impersonation forcing your kiss.

Loki's gaze rose to Thor's, a sneer taking the place of his smile. "It's not much concern to you."

"It concerns me a great deal."

"Oh please." Loki rolled his eyes. "It's a promise older than you are. What would it matter if she were anyone else? It's not as if you want her."

The room stilled. Everything stopped as if the whole crowd held a collective breath, the fire itself refusing to crackle. When the silence broke, you were surprised to find that it was from your voice.

"Thank you, Loki," you said, your tone even and calm from years of training, but cold enough to form icicles, "for reminding how little I'm needed here."

You turned and left, the crowd parting in front of you as if severed by a sword. You didn't heed the murmurs through the crowd or Thor calling after you. There would be chaos to face in the morning, but you were going back to your room. Damn them all. And damn Loki in particular.

The halls were quiet, a stark contrast with the chaos in your mind. You were too angry to form more than a fleeting thought. Was Loki drunk? Why impersonate Thor? Why force you at all? Loki already had you. What was there to prove?

It's not as if you want her.

That had stung. It would surprise no one that Thor didn't love you, but it wasn't something that anyone ever mentioned. And if Loki's tricks had turned toward cruelty, you were left with few options.

"Pet." Loki appeared in front of you, stepping in from the darkness.

You stopped just shy of walking into him. You glared up at him. "I don't want to talk to you," you said.

"I meant no harm."

"You did plenty of it, regardless."

"I understand that you're angry with me."

"That's not an apology," you snapped. "How is it that you are incapable of saying that you're sorry?" You shoved at him, but your hands went through his chest and you stumbled from the force. It was like walking through ice. Your breath stilled as your mind went into freefall. He wasn't even there. He didn't even bother to appear in person to ask for forgiveness. You turned back to glare at him.

"Love—"

"Don't." You turned away and continued down the hall.

Loki reappeared in front of you and you instinctively stopped short, only to continue through him once again. His double appeared again and again as you walked the long route back to your room, each time starting the beginning of an explanation or command, and cutting off when you continued through as if he didn't exist.

A feeling like an angry hornets' nest settled between your ears, drowning out anything that he said. You reached your room and shut the door in the double's face. Another waited inside.

"How am I to make amends if you won't listen to me?" he asked.

"I don't want to make amends." You stalked past him.

Loki's hand shot out to grab your wrist, pulling you to a stop. Your heart stuttered. Not a double this time. Good. At least you could slap him.

Loki seemed to see your intention, because he secured both your hands in his. You scowled, bristling at the intimacy of his fingers twined through yours. This was no time for him to pretend affection for you.

"You said you trusted me," Loki said. "Why do we still always have this discussion?"

"This is not a discussion," you snapped. "You were cruel and terrible. There was no reason for you to do that. None at all."

"I'm telling you I had good reason. Why do you refuse to believe me?"

"Because you always lie!" You glared up at him. Angry tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. You willed them back, hating your own vulnerability. "Everything you say is a lie."

The temperature dropped between you and Loki. A hard edge came to his expression that you hadn't seen in a long time. He pulled you in toward him, trapping your hands against his chest.

"Is that what you think?" he said. "Alright then." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, holding you so you had to look at him. "I don't care for you." His voice was smooth and soft, liquid gold too enticing to ignore. "You're never in my thoughts—not when I wake up or lie down or when I should, by all rights, be thinking of something more pressing." You couldn't look away from him, even if you'd wanted to. "I don't think you're the most fantastic woman I've ever encountered. I won't risk my own reputation and comfort to ensure yours." His arms loosened around you, turning to gentle strokes. Loki rested his forehead against yours. "I don't look for you when I enter every room. I don't wonder how you feel nor do I guess at what you're thinking. I don't plan ways to make you smile or laugh and I don't enjoy your company." He paused. "I don't love you." Your breath caught in your throat and you struggled to swallow. Loki opened his eyes, pinning you in place. "Tell me, since I always lie, what will you believe?"

A knot twisted in your stomach. He always did this, meeting your rage with sweetness. He unraveled all your resolve. It wasn’t fair… for him to twist his words so he never said what he felt or what he wanted, for him to make you care so much about him.

"Can I kiss you, sweet?" he asked.

You bristled, ego still sore from his earlier misdeeds. "Why bother to ask now?"

"Because I think you still have it in your mind to slap me."

"You would deserve it," you said.

"I would." Loki held you close and spoke into your hair, lips tickling as they moved against the strands. "We're almost there," he said. "Just a few more days." Your anger wavered. "Please, love," he said.

Damn him. The rest of your fury snuffed out. You wrapped your arms around Loki's waist and rested your head against his chest. His heart thundered under your ear.

You stood in silence for a minute until Loki spoke again. "If I intended for you to understand my every action," he said, "I wouldn't need your trust. That's why it's important. You need to know that I'm doing what's best." He stroked his hand over your hair, pressing you against his chest more tightly. "Cry and shout all you like, sweetheart. Hate me if you want. I'll accept your fury. But"—he paused, arms tightening around you—"don't doubt me."

You pulled back to look at him, but Loki's expression was unreadable. You raised your hand to his face and smoothed your palm over cheek. Loki's gaze dropped from yours and he pressed into the touch. You swatted the side of his face—not hard, certainly not enough to hurt—then brushed your fingers over it. You leaned up on your toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Chapter Text

"Don't," you warned, not bothering to lift your head from where it rested against the pillow.

"I haven't done anything, love."

You hugged the pillow more closely and squeezed your eyes shut. Loki had persuaded you back to his room and into his bed, but you had no intention of doing anything more than sleeping. Loki seemed to have different plans, however, since his hands were wandering over your legs and hips.

"You're planning to," you said. "I can tell. It's the middle of the night. I'm tired." After the disaster of the party and all the drama afterward, you wanted to sleep for at least a week.

Loki pulled you by the waist so your back pressed against him. "I could wake you up." He scraped his teeth over the edge of your ear.

"Keep your hands to yourself."

He hummed and snuggled closer to you. "You like my hands. They are one of the many reasons that you love me."

"Your hands get you in trouble."

"Perhaps. But they are very good at getting me out of it too." You didn't respond. Loki continued his exploration, clearly trying to get a rise out of you.

You turned over and regarded him with a scowl. "I'm still angry with you."

He seemed unconcerned by that, instead running the tips of his fingers along the length of your arm. "What can I do to climb back into your good graces?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. No matter what you did, he would consider it a victory. His fingers still skimmed over your skin, never wandering too far. If you let him keep going like that, he would end up seducing you. Though… there was something that you could do. Something that might rock him back on his heels, if only for a moment.

Moves and countermoves. Tricks and traps and games.

You rolled out of the bed. Loki grimaced and let out a frustrated huff, then propped himself on his elbows to watch as you walked across the room. You rooted through the bottom of the wardrobe and pulled out the carefully wound length of rope that Loki had placed there several nights ago. His expression lit when you brought it back to the bed with you.

"I can't say that this is what I expected," he said, reaching for the rope, "though I'm delighted you've become so fond of the idea."

You pulled it out of his grasp. "It isn't for me."

There was a moment of confusion, a blank look that flickered over Loki's features, before an absolutely wicked expression took its place. He leaned forward and placed his hands on either side of you, bringing his face close to yours but not quite touching.

"What is it you have in mind, spitfire?" he asked, though the gleam in his eyes told you he already knew.

"Take off your clothes."

"You want to play at being in charge, love?"

"I am in charge," you said.

"Hm." Loki's gaze raked over you from top to bottom, leaving fire in its wake. "I'm looking forward to it." Loki stood off the bed to loom over you. He tipped your face up to his. "If you do well enough," he said, "I'll even pretend that I can't get free."

Your heart stuttered, but you didn't betray that in your voice. "I told you to take off your clothes."

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you watched him undress, mind skittering through endless possibilities and—stars—what were you going to do with him? You should have thought this through more… because you hadn't thought it through at all, nothing more than idle imagining. Sure, Loki's hands were maddening, always coaxing you into things that you would never have explored otherwise. You had thought about what would happen if you could stop him for just a minute—really have him under control, see how far you could strain him. Honestly, you never thought Loki would agree to it.

You pushed the uncertainty aside and positioned Loki in a chair at the foot of the bed. Your mind settled as you wound the rope around him—first his wrists, then his ankles—securing him against the unforgiving wood. Loki didn't make it difficult for you. Surprising. You thought he would give you a hard time. You sat back on your ankles to survey your handiwork and caught Loki watching you with burning intensity.

"What?" you asked, the question immediately defensive.

"I'm wondering where you learned to do this, kitten," Loki said.

You bristled, embarrassment climbing your cheeks. "None of your business."

"It certainly wasn't from me," Loki continued, "so, I suspect there was a book involved."

There had been, but that wasn't the point. You stood and took Loki's chin in your hand, pulling his face up to look at you. "Play nice," you said, "or I'll leave you tied there and I'll go back to bed." You stepped between his legs and leaned down for a long, slow kiss.

"I make no promises," Loki said when you pulled away.

"You're so insufferable."

You knelt. Stars, he was hard already. You had done nothing. Well… not nothing. Heat flashed through you. Oh, this was going to be fun.

You started slow because you knew that wasn't what he wanted and, right now, you wanted to annoy him just as much as you wanted him crying your name. If you could make him feel even an ounce of the frustration that he had made you endure, you would be more than satisfied.

So, you started with your hands, running them up the lengths of his thighs, skimming over his hips. Loki watched, breath slow and even, but starting to speed. You cupped his balls in your hand and licked the head of his cock, took it barely inside your mouth.

Small touches made him tense under you, made sweat bead along his skin. But that wasn't what you wanted. You wanted him to fall apart. You took him fully in your mouth and sucked. Loki groaned and his head fell back.

Better.

You played him along, alternating between light touches and intense pleasure, always stopping before he came too close to climax. You took him close—he could never hide just how good you made him feel—then backed off to teasing when it was almost more than he could bear. You had tried this before… in a way. You had deprived him before, but not to this degree. Not over and over again until you left Loki was in a state of sustained want.

Groans turned to curses which turned to threats as Loki detailed everything that he wanted to do to you. He made promises, offering you the world if you'd let him touch you. Still, what was the fun if you gave up the game now?

The motions became familiar—hard and fast and deep until Loki lost coherency, then pull off, pump him slowly with your hand and kiss him all over. You watched him whenever you took the moments to gentle him down from the edge. His hands strained against the ropes, knuckles white. You hadn't quite decided how many times you would make him wait. Part of you wanted to leave him completely wanting, but you were certain Loki would exact vengeance for that later. Each time, you considered giving in, letting him finish. But… you started to like the near-anguished cry he made when you stopped.

You pulled off and returned to kissing his legs while he panted above you. On an impulse, you sank your teeth into the muscle of his thigh. The noise he made caught your attention. You looked back up at him to find his eyes on you. His expression was desperate. Yes, please. You smirked and did it again.

His cock pulsed in your hand, catching you off guard. Damn, you hadn't realized how close he had been. His seed shot up, covering your hand and splattering your face. You recoiled in surprise. You wiped some off your face with your fingers and scrunched your nose in disgust. Stars, that had not gone according to plan.

"Untie me." Loki's voice was dark, feral. Your eyes snapped to him, a shiver of fear running through you. "Now," he said when you didn't immediately move.

You undid the rope with shaking hands. The moment the rope was loose, Loki snapped free from it. He pulled you up as he stood, grip tight on your arms. You stared at him, eyes wide, partially frozen with fear. Stars, what did you do? You'd meant for this to be fun—a little mean, but still fun. Had you gone too far?

Loki gentled. One hand released you to cup the side of your face. His thumb stroked over your cheek, smearing the cum in its path. He watched the motion, seemingly fascinated by it, then tugged you forward for a slow, fond kiss. When he pulled away, he looked at you as if you had all the stars in your eyes.

"I really do love you," he said.

#

You couldn't sleep. It had been happening more frequently lately, with thoughts of the upcoming wedding plaguing your mind long after you were supposed to have drifted off. Now… now it was even worse. Love. Loki loved you. Well, you'd known that. Sort of. But he had said it now. Didn't that change things?

Loki fell asleep quickly, his arm wrapped over your waist. Lucky man, secure in the knowledge of his own plans, not having to rely on someone else for certainty. You flipped from one side to the other, never finding a truly comfortable position. Eventually, you gave up and slid out from under Loki's arm.

You padded out from the bedroom, navigating in the dark. You were much more familiar with the layout since you'd spent so much time here. You made your way to a bookshelf on the far wall and lit a lamp near it. In the dim light, you skimmed over the titles, past historical tomes and scientific volumes, looking for a topic of interest until something familiar caught your eye.

It was a plain leather-bound book, nothing remarkable about it except that you had seen it before. You pulled it from the rest, sure it must only be a similarity, and turned it over in your hand. It was a journal.

Your father's journal.

You had read it before, when you were younger. Your mother had wanted you to know more about the man that had gone on to Valhalla before you were old enough to remember him. Why in all the stars did Loki have it?

You leafed through the familiar pages, the spidery handwriting of your father soothing something inside you that you hadn't realized was unnerved. Strange, how someone who was not even a memory could comfort you. Your hands stilled, stopping at a page unlike the others.

Well… it was like the others. It looked just like the others—the same paper and ink, the same spiked lettering—but it shouldn't have been there. You had never seen it before.

You knew that journal like you knew your own name. You had learned to read by tracing your father's writing. You knew the dates and stories of his life by heart. That page didn’t belong with the rest.

You read the new entry. Once. Then again. And again. A sick feeling spread from your heart, like insects had taken up residence inside and now burrowed out into the rest of your body.

Very suddenly, you knew exactly what Loki had planned. And you wished to all the heavens that you didn't.

Chapter Text

Loki woke with the space on the bed next to him empty. He ran his hand over the sheet at his side, where your form should have lain. Cold. Long cold. He frowned. Where had you run off to?

Loki stood, squinting against the dark and followed a glimmer of light into the other room. You stood in front of the bookshelf, a volume in your hands, your form outlined in the lamplight as if your skin emitted the soft glow. Something warm inside him woke at the sight. You were a lovely vision of quiet repose, as much a part of the room as he was. Still, you were supposed to be sleeping at his side. He'd have to remind you of your manners.

You looked up sharply at Loki's approach, like a rabbit sensing danger, and your eyes locked with his. A quiver of unease ran through him. Your expression didn't warm at the sight of him the way it usually did. Why did you suddenly feel so very distant when you stood only a few strides from him? Perhaps… a trick of the lighting, just his imagination.

The reprimand that had formed in Loki's mind stilled over his tongue and he found sweet words emerging in its place.

"Come back to bed, love." He held out his hand for you.

You stepped backward and pressed the book against your stomach as if it were armor. Loki's heart plummeted when he noticed for the first time which book you held in your hands.

"Pet—"

"What have you done?" There was a hushed sort of horror in your voice, a tremble behind the question that betrayed the tumult of emotion you hid.

Loki had mere moments to tip you back to his side before you jumped to a dangerous conclusion. Less, maybe. "Whatever it is you think—"

"My father never had an affair," you interrupted. Loki's spirits plummeted. He had no time at all. "He never had another child. You put this here. You"—you held out the book as if it were a sword to pierce him—"you defaced his memories."

Your anger burned around Loki as though the room were on fire. There was no safe haven, no move he could make that would soothe you. He didn't answer.  

"Tell me I'm mistaken," you said, voice rising, clearly spurred on by his silence. "Tell me my father betrayed me before I was even born. Go on. Lie to me."

You always lie.

Damn, damn, damn. He had told himself he wasn't going to do that anymore. Not to you. Not about anything important.

Loki held up his hands, a gesture meant to pacify you, though the fury on your face didn't lessen. "It was the way forward," he said. "The agreement only specifies the oldest descendent. It does not have to be you."

"There is no one else."

"The truth can be many things depending on what you want people to believe."

Your eyes widened. "And who—" You stopped, swallowed, then started again, "Who is it that you'll replace me with so easily?"

"It doesn't matter." Loki could feel you slipping through his fingers, his argument failing to stick against your indignation.

"Who is it?"

You were so persistent. It was maddening. Loki could never get you to follow the direction he wanted. You stuck to a point as if fixed, refusing to let him maneuver you around it.

"It's her, isn't it?" you asked. "The woman that I've seen you with. What was her name?" You looked away and squeezed your eyes shut in apparent concentration. Then you shook your head. Your gaze locked with his once again. "That's why you've been near her lately. It wasn't to make me angry. You've been pulling her into view."

"It will be more believable if the court is familiar with her." Loki spoke the words slowly, as if he would choke on them as they came out. "It will be an easier transition." He was making this worse. Every word he said pushed you further away, but he couldn't stop. You wanted the truth. "She's from the right sort of family with the right sort of background. She's unknown enough to be susceptible to rumors. She's a suitable"—substitute. No, he couldn't say that. You were too precious to be expendable. But there was no better term and he trailed off into uncertainty.

"A replacement," you finished the thought for him. "Since Thor doesn't care who it is. No one cares who it is."

The pain in your voice cleaved Loki's heart in two. He couldn't deny it, even to spare your feelings. It was the truth that his entire plan hinged upon. No one else cared that it was you who would marry Thor.

"You come out of this sparkling, love," he said, trying to sooth you. "You're blameless. It's an unfortunate happenstance of fate. No one could fault you for your father's misdeeds." He stepped forward, tried to close the aching distance between you, but you stepped back. His heart panged. "Odin won't want to offend your family, not after so long, but he can't disobey the letter of the agreement." Loki raised his hand to brush your cheek but stopped when you shied away. "He'll agree to a suitable compromise."

"No." You shook your head.

Whether you were refusing him or the plan, Loki didn't know. "Why not?"

"Because it isn't true."

"It doesn't have to be true," Loki said. "Odin just has to believe that it is. This is the best way."

Your eyes searched around the room wildly, as if the shadows might offer a solution. "It won't work. They won't believe it, not from the words of a journal. There would need to be proof, tests—"

"Those can be falsified."

The weight of that seemed to settle over you. Loki wanted to pull you toward him, wrap you in his arms, but you'd flinched from his every move thus far. He couldn't risk your rejection. He felt as if he walked on cracked glass already.

You looked up at him and—damn—there were tears in your eyes. "You didn't tell me because you knew I would object."

"Yes." The word burned against his throat as if he'd coughed up fire. You blinked, eyes sparkling with tears you were too stubborn to acknowledge. Loki took the chance and pulled you into his arms. "I knew you would care. I knew it would hurt you." You stood stiffly in his embrace, like a wooden figure. Loki wanted desperately for you to relax into him, to show any sign that he could reach you with his touch or words. "You're a good person, sweet. You can't bear lies. I didn't want you to."

You pulled away and reluctant as he was, Loki let you go. He felt every inch between you as if he would never get it back. Something flashed behind your eyes and Loki realized with a start that your anger hadn't snuffed. You'd simply driven it deeper where he couldn't reach it. The fire in your voice had been replaced with ice.

"What did you think would happen?" you asked. "When all this came to light, did you think I would believe it? That I would run to you for consolation?"

Well… yes. The thought had crossed his mind. Though he suddenly felt bad for how exactly he intended to console you. He would need to keep those fantasies to himself.

"Or did you think that I'd be pleased with your solution? Impressed by your cleverness? By you dragging my father's name through the mud?"

"Your father is long dead; he won't mind."

"I mind! My family minds. You'll tarnish a good man for no reason."

"I have a reason. This is the only way that—"

"It is not!" you cried. You took a few ragged breaths, before continuing, your voice holding the bare thread of control. "It's not. It's just the only way that doesn't hurt you."

Remarkably, of all the times Loki had been stabbed, this one hurt the worst, though you hadn't used a blade. This tactic wasn't working. You weren't responding to the truth. He needed time, a second to think.

"It's late, love," he said. "Come back to bed. We can talk it through in the morning." He reached for your hand, but you snatched it out of his grasp.

"I'm going to meet with Odin in the morning," you said. "I'll tell him I won't marry Thor."

Why did it always come back to this? It was a fruitless idea. The truth could not settle this. How could you insist on doing right when it would only hurt you?

"No, love, that won't work."

"He can't force me."

"It won't matter. He won't let you be with me if you do that."

"I don't want to be with you."

Loki's mind stopped, the thousands of thoughts and plans falling to silence for the first time in his life, leaving him with absolutely nothing. A vast hole had opened underneath him.

"What?"

You looked back to him, a hard set in your eyes, a resolution that he'd never seen before. "I don't want to be with you. Not now. Not anymore." You looked down. Then away. "Not if you could do… this with no regard for how I would feel. You don't love someone like this. You're just selfish." Loki's mind went into freefall. Where words usually came to him as easily as breathing, he saw nothing but blank darkness.

"I'm going to Odin in the morning," you said again, then turned and left the room.

Echoing, oppressive silence fell in your wake. Loki stood still in the middle of the room, right where you had left him.

No.

No no no no no no no.

This was not happening.

He stood still as silence for an uncountable amount of time, mind careening against endless impossibilities, coming up against wall after wall of immovable obstacles. His breath grew short.

Loki had found that you had two distinct varieties of anger: one that burned through you like wildfire and one that settled over you with a deep calm and conviction. The first Loki could deal with—had dealt with before. The latter placed you far beyond his control. Your conviction, once set in place, was near impossible to budge. When he had faced it last, only time eroded your resolve. Loki did not have time to give you. But what else was he supposed to do? This was the only way—

It's just the only way that doesn't hurt you.

Damn it.

Loki didn't have options. You'd taken too many of them away. He had no room to maneuver, not if he was to protect you as well. He had thought that he'd found the best way, the one that didn't hurt either you or him. He had even taken your stupid, noble, self-sacrificial tendencies into account. Now that you knew, his plan was all but useless. There were too many variables, too much that could go wrong. Your intentions left him with only one option—something you would loathe as well.

But Loki would rather have you hate him than have you place yourself forever beyond his grasp.

Decisions had consequences.

Chapter Text

You waited at the entrance to the throne room, to the side of the closed door and the soldier that guarded it. The sun was just now making its first attempts at peeking over the horizon. All of Asgard was still and peaceful. All but you.

You paced the width of the hall — five strides to one wall, five strides back - and wrung your hands over each other. You hadn't been able to sleep, so you waited. You couldn't simply barge into the king's rooms and demand to speak with him. As urgent as your business was, that was still out of the question. Nonetheless, you held no delusions that you had time to waste. Loki wouldn't stand idle, even if he professed to let you do as you wish. He would make a move of some sort.

Your heart still burned at the knowledge of what Loki held in store. How could he do such a thing? You had so little already: only your family to recommend you, a small reputation that was in danger at every moment. And Loki had angled to take even that away from you. He would have left you with nothing to hold on to. Did he really intend for you to depend only on him and no one else? For you not to be able to stand on your own apart from him… how could he want that? He didn't want an equal. He didn't want someone who could push back. And that wasn't what you had thought that you were to him.

In the end, it wasn't about your father or Loki disregarding your feelings, but about how he tried to undermine your agency at every turn. He wouldn't let you choose to be with him; he preferred to take away all your other options. Why couldn't he just trust you when you said you wanted to be with him?

Though… you didn't want that anymore.

No.

You didn't.

Which brought you back to what exactly you would say to Odin when you saw him. You still hadn't decided. Odin was every bit as unpredictable as his son. Whether you faced disgrace or exile or any other number of things, well… at least you would control your own fate for the first time in your life. Oh, stars, this was going to be a disaster.

The sound of shouts resounded through the halls, reaching your ears in a chaotic chorus of echoes. Odin. You glanced to the guard, who looked back at you with panic.

Odin's fury was a tangible thing. You felt it like fire the moment he turned the corner and stalked down the hall toward the throne room. That was enough to make you take a step back toward the wall and out of the path of danger. But then you saw Loki at his heels.

Your heart dropped into your shoes. So, he'd done it then. Loki had told Odin and ruined your chances of heading him off.

Loki spared a glance at you. There was something in his expression that you couldn't define, something that you hadn't seen before. It was a quiet sort of resolution, almost sad, but more determined. It stood in stark contrast to Odin's rage. He held your gaze for a moment more, then turned his attention back to Odin.

Whatever Odin said was drowned into incoherency by the echoes that bounced off the walls. You could discern no more than the passing curse. As he came nearer without any acknowledgement of your presence, you realized that, if you were to have any hope, this was your only chance. While Odin was angry, his mind wasn't yet made up. Perhaps…

You stepped forward, hands clasped together to stop them from shaking. "My King—"

Odin continued past you as if you hadn't spoken, as if you were just another pillar in the hall. Your heart stammered but you clutched at your resolve. "My King!" you said again, this time almost a shout. Your voice carried in the hall, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. Odin turned to you.

"I need to speak with you," you said. Compared to the din that had filled the hall moments ago, your plea was no more than the squeak of a mouse.

Odin waved you off. "Not now."

"But—"

"I said not now."

"Sir, I must—"

"Quiet, girl," Odin shouted and your heart stopped. He paused, took a breath, then spoke in a more even tone. "Go. Now."

Your courage failed. You fled.

#

That was it then.

You sat at the edge of your bed, staring forward at the walls lit with grey dawn light.

There was nothing you could do. Not to save yourself or your family's reputation. Not to save the heartbreak your mother would soon endure. Once again, you were helpless, at the mercy of everyone around you. You rolled back into the bed, curling against the cushions and covered yourself in the blanket.

A hard edge poked into your shoulder from under your pillow. You squirmed around for a few minutes, trying to readjust so you were comfortable, but to no avail. You sat up and fished under your pillow. Your hand stilled when you felt the hard edge of a book. You pulled it out.

Your father's journal weighed heavily in your hand.

You turned the cover over, inspecting it. You had left it in Loki's room—not intentionally, but still. A lump formed in your throat as you leafed through the pages. At the space where Loki had inserted the offending entry, a note fell out.

Don't worry.

Something twisted inside you. 'Don't worry'? How were you to do that? Even the journal's presence in your room offered no peace of mind. Loki's plan could involve any number of things.

Before you had the chance to puzzle through his meaning, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps in the hall. You shoved the book back under your pillow on reflex.

You mother burst into the room, her eyes searching frantically, then finally landing on you.

"There you are!" She strode to the bed and grabbed your wrist to pull you to standing. "What are you doing still wearing that thing? Get ready now."

It was only at this point that you remembered that you still wore your dress from the night before. From the disastrous party. Stars, had that been yesterday? A million things had happened since then.

"Momma," you said, voice weak. You really didn't have the energy to face anything today, especially not the fallout from your confrontation the night before. "I really don't want—"

Your mother grabbed your chin and forced you to look at her. "The queen has called for you."

Her words doused you in ice water.

#

Frigga was a wonderful, warm woman. She stood apart from the men of her family, like a cool breeze through a hot day. Just looking at her often put you at ease. Whatever your misgivings, you had never doubted the Frigga felt kindly toward you.

She sat you on a couch and took a chair opposite you. You fidgeted under her gaze, but she didn't wait for pleasantries. "I gather that Loki owes you an apology."

"Your Majesty?"

"For his trick last night."

Oh. Right. The party. You looked down. "You know about that?"

"He's my son. I know everything about him."

Stars, you hoped not.

"Tell me," Frigga continued, "what do you think of Loki?"

"He's—" What could you possibly say to that? For as well as you knew Loki, what was appropriate to give away? "He's very bold. And courageous."

"Be honest," Frigga said.

You paused. Clearly, generalities wouldn't suffice. "He's cautious," you said. "He's smarter than others and, unfortunately, he knows it. He's selfish sometimes and he doesn't trust anyone."

"He trusts you."

"I don't think he does."

Frigga stood and crossed to sit next to you. "He cares more for you than for anyone else." She took your hand in hers. "I hope you care about him as well because he is going to need your help." You looked up at her in alarm. Frigga's eyes momentarily fixed on your face, as if appraising, before she continued, "Loki has challenged Thor's claim to the throne."

#

You burst into Loki's rooms without knocking.

He spoke to you without looking up from the book he was reading on the couch. "I have told you before—"  

"What have you done?" you asked. You stomped to the couch and stood in front of him with your hands on your hips.

Loki looked up at you. "Sit with me and I'll tell you all about it." You glowered at him. He set the book aside and leaned toward you, elbows on his knees. "Come on, love. You trusted me before. Has so much changed in a few short hours?"

You ignored his attempt to sidestep the conversation. "You don't even want to be king."

"I want all kinds of things."

"Odin won't let the challenge stand."

"Of course he won't." Loki leaned back and looped one arm over the back of the couch. "He will have to bargain however." Loki's eyes raked over you.

Pieces slid into place in your mind, the skeleton of a plan forming. "You think he'll offer me as a trade for your cooperation."

"You're the only thing of equal value."

"I'm not worth the throne."

"Depends on how you look at it. If I will only forsake my challenge for the consolation of your hand, then how valuable do you appear?"

"He can't. Odin promised that—"

"Odin pledged that he would take into his family the first female descendent of your grandfather. How he was to do that was not specified. So…" he trailed off, looking to you for the answer.

"…it doesn't matter which son I marry."

"Smart girl."

"This is ridiculous," you said. You paced a small circle and wound up right back in front of him. "The whole point of the arrangement was for one of his descendants to become queen."

Loki waved off your argument. "The spirit of the agreement and the letter of the agreement are two different things."

"Why not just ask Odin? Why not make this simple?"

"I had devised a different way…"

"Stop." You rubbed the tight spot forming just between your eyes. "Just stop. Stop all of this."

Loki stood. "I don't see what you're so angry about," he said. "I've asked you to marry me."

"You didn't ask!" you cried, indignant.

"Is that what's upsetting you? Fine." He held his hand out toward you. "Will you marry me?"

"No!"

Loki rolled his eyes and stepped back. "You're being stubborn."

"You really don't listen to me at all," you said. "I said I didn't want to be with you."

"You didn't mean that."

"You do not tell me what I mean," you snapped.

Loki held up his hands in surrender. "I listened when you said you didn't want me to alter your family history. This path won't damage you. The only thing you lose in this bargain in a crown you never wanted." He stepped forward into your space, not quite touching, but close enough that you felt the heat from his body. "Would it be so terrible? Is it such a step down to marry me instead of Thor?"

Oh, he's wasn't playing fair. He was using that voice, the one that always made you melt. "I don't know what you think you're doing—" You stepped back, but Loki stopped your retreat with the gentle grip of his fingers around yours.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," he said. "I'm giving you time." He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. "I am asking you to marry me. You do not have to accept." "If you really wish to leave, I won't stop you. But think, love. Think it through." He traced the backs of his fingers you’re your cheek. "Scream and fight all you like. Hate me if it soothes you. But don't break something because you're angry. Give me a chance to set it right first." He opened his eyes and you could look nowhere else.

"This is a bad idea," you said, the protest weak.

"You took offense to my good idea."

You frowned. "That was also a bad idea." Loki's arm wound around your waist and pulled you against him. Stars, barely twelve hours and he'd already charmed his way around you. You took a deep breath and tried to untangle your ego from your heart. Loki would be the one to face the consequences in this, not you.

You pressed your forehead against his chest and squeezed your arms around him. "What if you don't defeat Thor in the challenge?" you asked.

"It won't come to that."

"What if Odin doesn't agree to your compromise?"

"Odin won't have to agree. He will be the one to suggest it."

"What if I don't agree?" You looked up at him and the intensity of his focus warmed you through.

"I'll do my best to persuade you."

Chapter Text

You laid across the couch with Loki settled between your legs, his head rested on your stomach, his arms around your waist. It was comforting to you as much as it was to him. You let your head fall back and just enjoyed his presence, pushing all other worries away.

There were many other worries.

If you could ignore everything outside the walls of Loki's room, you would. You would cut it all off and just exist there eternally in that moment, when only one thing was certain but it was all you needed.

You ran your fingers through Loki's hair. Every so often, his arms tightened around you, as if he was making sure that you were still there.

But the world intruded on your peace by inches. The worries you swept aside were a blizzard in waiting. You had solved nothing. Asgard was still a swirling storm of chaos everywhere outside this room. The future hung in tatters, tangled in uncertainty.

"I should go," you said. You smoothed a lock of Loki's hair, then wrapped the strands around your finger.

Loki's arms tightened around you. "Stay."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"There is too much going on."

"I want you to stay."

"I know."

Loki propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you. "Please."

"That won't work this time." You leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead. His eyes slipped closed. "I don't know what's going to happen next. I can't let myself get comfortable."

"Stay here," he repeated. "Stay with me so at least I'll know you're within my grasp."

Within my grasp…

Stars, as if you weren't always wrapped up in him. Only a day and a half had passed and a lifetime had gone with it. Your heart ached from the constant back and forth. There had been too much pain lately. Too much anguish. And all you really wanted was to stay right where you were, in Loki's arms. If you couldn't be certain of anything else, at least you could hold onto him.

"Are you still angry with me?" Loki asked. He reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"I have every right to be," you said with a scowl. You'd played the part of Loki's puppet, pulled every which way by your strings. "In little more than a day, you've lied to me, forced yourself on me, threatened my family's reputation, and contrived to force me into marrying you."

"And yet you love me."

"I am very, very angry with you."

Loki took your hand in his, twining your fingers together. "Face facts, love. I will likely drive you mad every day we're together."

"Is that supposed to convince me to stay with you?"

"Yes," he said. "Because when I'm sorry, I'll make up for it magnificently." He pressed forward, pushing you back against the cushions with a kiss. The kiss burned through you, forcing your reaction. You arched into his embrace as if you could join yourself with him.

When he pulled back, you tried to regain your composure. "Now is not a good time to try to seduce me," you said, though you doubted if you would even resist the attempt.

"I'm always trying to seduce you."

You shoved at Loki's shoulders. He seemed to consider it for a moment, then sat back with a sigh.

"Stay, love." He captured your fingers as you rose from the couch. "Stay where I know you're with me."

"And what if I'm found here? What will that do for all your carefully constructed plans?"

Loki kissed the center of your palm, then turned your hand over and kissed each of the knuckles. "Trust me. You are always safe in these walls."

"Trust me," you said as you slid your hand from his grasp. "I'm safe outside of them as well." You turned, but looked back at him from over your shoulder as you walked away. "You can't keep me in a cage."

"It would be a marvelous cage." Loki rose to follow you. "There would be more books than you could dream of." He stepped in front of you, keeping you in sight as he walked backwards ahead of you. "You would never want to leave."

You laughed and shook your head, even as you reached around him for the door. Your smile shattered like broken glass when you opened it and saw that Odin stood on the other side.

#

You had waited all your life: waited to grow up, waited to marry Thor, waited for Loki. Waited, waited, waited.

Now you waited for Odin's judgement.

You stood at the foot of the throne, the steps leading up to it raising the king far above your stature. You faced Odin, your two figures alone in the vast space meant to hold thousands. In the absence of the throngs, the room felt monstrous, like the maw of a ravenous creature waiting to swallow you whole. Silence hung heavy in the air and held your feet to the ground. You clasped your hands in front of you, head bowed in deference or shame, you didn't know. You did know that you couldn't look at Odin.

You wished that Loki were here. His presence at least would be comforting, even if he could do nothing to save you from Odin's wrath. At least then you could be certain that he would know what became of you. Disgrace and dishonor? Of course. Banishment? Execution? Perhaps.

Strange, but you didn't feel anything. What you feared had come to pass; shouldn't you tremble? Yet you faced only a gaping emptiness inside. There was no room for anticipation. There were no moves left to make, no actions to prevent your ruin. All you could do was wait. Odin's voice, when he spoke, seemed as if should shake the pillars.  

"What you've done could tear Asgard asunder."

"Yes, sir." You kept your head bowed, eyes downcast—the picture of loyal submission to your king.

"Your actions have disgraced you and the princes."

"Yes, sir." What else was there to say? You couldn't contradict Odin, even if he were wrong.

"You have caused all this grief, all this damage, and for no purpose. You already had everything."

Ah, yes. You'd had everything: a home, a title, a claim to the crown of Asgard. Everything indeed.

"Speak." The sharp command forced you to look at him. The force of his anger beat against you, but this was different from what you had seen before. Normally, Odin's wrath burned like wildfire. This… this was a cold, calculated fury. "Speak," Odin said again, "at least in your own defense."

"I have no defense." Your voice was stronger than you'd thought it would be.

He stamped his staff against the marble and the sharp report rang through the emptiness. You flinched. "What did you hope to gain through this betrayal?" he asked.

"Nothing." Your voice was much smaller this time.

Odin's eye narrowed, his expression twisted in a mix of frustration and confusion. "I have never before thought you to be a stupid girl. Why bring this on yourself?"

Why, indeed? Could there be an answer that would satisfy Odin? You knew the truth, but nothing had ever sounded more foolish in your own ears. Still, honesty had carried you this far.

You're a good person, sweet. You can't bear lies.

You cleared your throat, looked toward your feet, then, deciding that you should face your future without shame, looked back up to Odin. "Because I love Loki."

Odin grumbled and repositioned himself on the throne. "Then you are stupid."

"I've thought so more than once."

Silence returned. You waited for a sign of your fate from Odin, but only time moved. Your hands clenched together so hard that your fingernails dug into the skin of your palm. You focused on the pain, let it ground you in the steadily rising sea of panic.

"What, then," Odin said finally, "should I do with you?"

Your heart fluttered in your chest. He didn't have a sentence in mind? "Sir?"

"If I banish you—as I have every right and inclination to do—I will never hear the end of Loki's protest." The fingers of Odin's hand tapped idly against the arm of the throne, an agitated movement uncharacteristic of the king. "If I give you to him to buy his cooperation, I encourage his behavior." He stilled and seemed to focus more intently on you. "My only recourse is to exile him."

Your heart plummeted. "Please don't," you said, the words slipping out before you could check them.

"And why shouldn't I? He jeopardized his own future. He betrayed his brother and future king."

"He's your son!" you cried. Your mouth snapped shut as soon as the words had escaped. You'd yelled at Odin. Stars, oh, you were doomed.

"And I am Asgard's ruler," Odin said, his voice chillingly calm. "I have responsibility to more than my own whims."

"Let me make amends for it," you said. The offer felt weak, a last plea for mercy and not even for yourself.

Odin paused. "Why would you do that?"

"He's a good person." You cringed hearing the words out loud. Stars… he wasn't, not really, not in the usual sense of the word. "I mean," you started again, "he's kind and he means well. He tries hard to do what's right for you. And… I want him to be happy." The last statement sounded as weak as you were.

"It is not in Loki's nature to be happy," Odin said. "My son is not an easy man to understand. I've struggled to do so from the first moment I held him." His fingers tapped again at the arm of the throne. Each moment stretched to agony as he considered, weighing your life in his thoughts. "You claim to love him. Fine. Let that be your punishment. You will take responsibility for him. You'll keep your regrets and suffer with the decision you made for yourself."

A feeling swelled under your heart, hope stirring where it hadn't existed before. "Sir?"

"You've tied yourself to Loki. I fear you'll come to regret that."

Tied to Loki? You'd already chosen him. No… Odin had gone further than that. You had no choice anymore. Whatever happened, now you belonged to Loki.

Decisions have consequences.

Was this a punishment framed as mercy?

The ground under you rumbled and a crack rocked the room. You crouched, looking around with wide eyes. Asgard was a military stronghold, but that didn't make it impervious to attack. When you looked back to Odin, he only looked mildly annoyed.

"Go," Odin said. "You've taken responsibility for Loki's actions. He's your problem now."

Loki? Oh, stars… what had he done?

You nodded to Odin, unable to voice the thanks that welled up inside you, and turned away.

Odin's voice called again. "It is a shame," he said. You stopped to look back at him. "You would have made a remarkable queen."

Chapter Text

Wherever chaos and calamity reigned, you could be sure to find Loki at the center of it.

The palace thrummed with life. Many had just been sitting down for the evening meal when the foundation of the palace rocked beneath them. Your first thought had been that Asgard was under attack, but Odin had seemed unconcerned. In fact, he'd used it as an excuse to dismiss you. Which meant he knew there was no real danger. Which meant he suspected Loki.

You bear responsibility for Loki's actions now.

What in all the stars had Loki done?

You followed the pounding boot-steps of the guards, holding the hem of your gown in one hand as you raced behind them on much slower feet. One stride, another, with the soldiers' progress pulling away from you all the while. Air burned in your lungs and your heart beat in your ears, but you wouldn't let your legs stop. You needed to get to Loki before they did… or, at least, not long after.

The direction they led, the force they gathered, the way all the palace had shook… you couldn't be certain, but there was one very likely place that Loki had struck. Odin's Vault. You changed course. Sneaking around with Loki had its advantages, after all, and you'd learned of ways through the palace that hadn't seemed possible before. Corridors existed where they had no business being, hallways formed in spaces too small for a speck of dust. You squeezed through one—a shortcut that would save you time as long as you didn't lose your way—and emerged on the other side with the sound of boots behind you. You raced forward again, still unsure if you could reach Loki before others. You skidded around one corner, then another, catching your balance just before you fell. You ran down the last set of stairs, skipping the final few in a single jump and came into view of the vault doors just as a contingent of guards arrived with Thor at their head.

You called out to them and your shout echoed with desperation as it carried down the corridor. The group turned as one, surprised at the interruption. Thor's face clouded with confusion. You reached them in time, and stopped in front of him, hunched over and wheezing to catch your breath through the stabbing pain in your side.

"What are you doing here?" Thor asked. "It's dangerous. Someone has attacked The Vault."

"I know," you said. Thor reached out to steady you, but you waved him off. "It was Loki."

You didn't expect the sudden flash of anger that overtook Thor's face. He took you by your arm and set you upright. "I will take care of Loki."

Your heart stuttered. No. That wasn't the point. Had you miscalculated? In your preoccupation with the fallout with Odin, you hadn't considered how Thor would feel in the face of his brother's challenge. Now that you did, you faced a bigger obstacle.

You grabbed Thor's arm as he turned away. "Let me speak with him first." "I'll bring him out here."

"Loki won't listen to reason. He's shown that."

"He'll listen to me."

Another quake rocked the stairs like the crack of falling rock and knocked you into Thor. Damn it, if Loki didn't stop, he'd incur Odin's wrath and be banished from you no matter what the king had said originally.

You turned back to Thor. "Please, let me speak with him first. Just for a few minutes."

Thor set you upright and turned away with a scowl. "This has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with me."

"Clearly Loki's testing me. If he wants a challenge, he's more than welcome to try."

"Thor!" You grabbed his arm and turned him back to you. "Loki only challenged you because he wanted me." In the moment, you didn't check your voice, too intent on convincing Thor to heed the men standing around you.

That reality was not lost on Thor, however. "That's ridiculous," he said, his gaze glancing over your shoulder.

"I told you I loved someone else." You lowered your voice, caution returning. "I didn't tell you who it was." You saw the instant recognition dawned on Thor's face and took the opportunity it offered. "Let me speak with him first. Please. I can stop him."

Thor shifted, looked to the men around him, then back to you. "Five minutes."

You nodded, but said no more. You turned to the door, holding your hands against your stomach to keep them from shaking. Now wasn't the time to betray your fear. You were responsible for this, for walking Loki out of the trap of his own making. There were too many volatile tempers in play and you couldn't count on Loki's normal cool head to prevail.

#

The door was heavier than you'd anticipated. You managed to open it only enough to barely slide through, then felt it close with the finality of a prison door behind you.

You had never been to the vault before. The storehouse of Odin's collection wasn't left open to the public. Normally under guard at all hours, it housed the treasures of Asgard and the most dangerous artifacts in the galaxy. At the moment, it was unrecognizable as anything other than a trash heap.

You stood at the top of a staircase that led down to the metal lined room. Where artifacts should have stood in alcoves on either side, scorch marks lined the walls. Chunks were taken out of the metal, exposing the stone underneath. Flames danced in the corners of the rooms, the smoldering remnants of something you could only guess.

Loki stood at the far end of the room, his back turned to you, his hands clasped behind him. He looked the picture of serenity, but you knew him too well to be fooled by that. The set of his shoulders was off, the grip of his fingers too tight. You see the tension that ran through him as clearly as a tightly coiled spring. Some of the anxiety that had clenched around your heart dissipated, your first instinct to soothe him.

"Stars, what did you do?" you asked. Your voice was soft, but in the hush of the vault, it reached him regardless.

Loki turned with a start. Whatever he had expected, clearly it was not you. Loki took a hesitant step toward you. His gaze flickered to the side, as if waiting to see guards rushing him from the shadows.

You descended the rest of the steps, watching your feet carefully so you didn't trip over any debris. You crossed the remaining silence between you.

Loki reached toward you, then hesitated, as if afraid that you'd disappear if he did. You closed the distance instead, stepping into him and reaching up to smooth his hair from his face.

Loki held your hand against his skin. His eyes closed and he leaned into your touch. "How is it that you're here?" he asked.

"I'm taking responsibility for my choices," you said.

Loki leaned his forehead against yours, his arms circling around your waist. "You didn't answer the question, sweet." Despite the chaos that you knew waited for you outside, you felt a moment of peace here with Loki.

"Odin has passed judgement," you said softly, barely loud enough to fill the air between you and Loki. Loki's embrace tightened around you, as if he feared that you'd disappear. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tipped up on your toes to place a kiss against his lips. "I am to live out the rest of my days with you."

Loki's eyes snapped open. He searched your face. "Now is not the time to play games, love." His tone was low and dangerous.

"No games."

He studied you for a moment more, and finding nothing of concern, pulled you to him in a crushing kiss. He lifted you off your feet, his arms so tight around you that you could hardly breathe.

For a moment, you let yourself get swept away, let the unbridled joy wash from him into you. But the consequences of Loki's tricks waited outside for you along with the guards of Asgard. You pushed against him, then again when he didn't release you. He reluctantly let your feet touch the ground, but didn't relinquish his hold around you.

"We're still in trouble," you said. "Not least of all because you…" You trailed off, looking at the destruction around you again, at a loss. "What did you do?"

"Don’t concern yourself with it." Loki nuzzled at your temple, seemingly having slipped into an affectionate daze from whatever tension had trapped him before, as if he were drunk in your presence.

You disentangled yourself from him, the better to survey the damage. Something shone at the far end of the room, flickering in the light of the dancing flames. "But what was your plan?"

"It doesn't matter now."

The door opened with a bang and you took an instinctive step back. Before you could move far on your own, Loki dragged you behind him, holding you in place by your arm. You peeked around him to see. The guards came in with the rhythmic stamping of boots, Thor following after, then… Odin.

You pried Loki's hand from your arm and stepped out from behind him. Loki glowered at your disobedience, but you kept your head bowed. He was going to have to learn to let you act for yourself eventually.

"Have you finished throwing your tantrum?" Odin asked. His voice was as cold as when he had first spoken with you.

"Father—"

"You'll make your excuses elsewhere. Come with me."

#

You sat on Loki's bed, hands wringing over each other. You should feel relieved, but with Loki still absent with Odin, you couldn’t quite let go of the breath that you held. It still didn't feel real. The elation that should have coursed through you was walled up behind dread.

You've tied yourself to Loki. I fear you'll come to regret that.

What had Odin meant by that?

Odin, The Allfather… He knew things that you couldn't conjure in your dizziest dreams. Surely, that applied to Loki as well. Was there still something that Loki hadn't told you? A chill ran through you at the thought.

The door opened with a click and you looked up, half frightened that it wouldn't be Loki that entered. Yet, there he stood in the door, watching you. His expression was unreadable.

"What happened?" you asked. Though Odin had said you were to take the consequences for Loki, he had not included you.

     "You will stay here tonight, love," Loki said, sidestepping your question. He came into the room, removing his shirt as he did. "No arguments this time."

"That's not"—you bit your lip, then looked up at him—"Loki, what did Odin say?"

"A great many things."

"What do we do now?"

Loki sat at your side and pulled you toward him so he could place kiss your neck. "I have plenty of ideas." 

"That's not what I meant."

"Still you worry." Loki pulled back with a sigh and regarded you seriously. "You're mine now, love. If anyone dares to dispute it, I'll relieve them of their voice."

Chapter Text

Something weighty held you asleep, kept you from wanting to come back completely to consciousness. You floated somewhere between dreams and waking, aware only that you were comfortable and safe, but not processing anything further than that. You drifted in and out of awareness, coming closer to reality each time before sinking again.

.

.

.

Wasn't there something you were supposed to be doing?

.

.

Surely, someone would come for you if there were.

.

Right?

This time, when consciousness came within your grasp you held onto it. Your eyes opened slowly, as if the muscles had forgotten how. Waiting for you on the other side of sleep was Loki's face: simple, serene, and watching you.

"Hello, love," he said.

You smiled, warmth flooding through you, and wriggled closer to him, near enough that your noses touched. It was the barest brush of his skin against yours, hardly together at all, but you felt the touch down to your toes.

Loki's gaze dropped to your mouth, then returned to your eyes. In the instant he'd looked away, a sensation of unease shivered through you. Something in his expression was wrong, just off enough to strike you the wrong way.

"What's wrong?" you asked. You brought your hand to his cheek, lightly stroking along his jaw as if you could ease the tension there.

"Nothing, love." Loki turned to kiss your palm. "I'm happy."

You frowned. His expression had said something else. You couldn't shake the feeling that it was a lie, that Loki was (once again) hiding something from you. But… you'd lived in uncertainty for so long. Perhaps your mind simply refused to accept a new reality, one in which you were with Loki, one in which you belonged with Loki.

You curled into his arms, needing reassurance and not sure how to get it. You nestled your head under his chin, surrounding yourself with his scent and warmth. You couldn't explain why you suddenly felt like Loki wasn't really there with you.

"What time is it?" you asked.

"Late," Loki said. "You've been in bed the whole day." Stars, really? Loki traced his fingers down the length of your spine. "You haven't been sleeping much lately."

"And whose fault is that?" You tried to sit up, but Loki's arms held you in place. "I have to go," you protested. "I need to—"

"You don't need to be anywhere but here." Loki's embrace tightened around you and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "The world will wait for us." Loki took a deep breath, his chest expanding to press against you, and rubbed his nose against the top of your head, mussing your hair. "You're alright, sweet," he said. "Everything is fine."

You stretched up to kiss him, slow and sweet. Loki let the kiss linger, turning it into long exchange, equal parts affectionate and demanding. It seemed to last forever and built a bigger need in you. Loki was yours now. Yours. You wanted to celebrate—damn it—and you wanted to claim him.

Your body was too hot. You moved restlessly against him, arching to try to get closer. But he held you back, keeping his movements sweet and unhurried.

"Loki…"

"You're so impatient, spitfire. There's no need; we have all the time in the world."

And it seemed like Loki intended to use every second of it. His hands mapped your body, smoothed over every inch of skin. Even when you finally stripped him of his clothes, even when you finally had him inside you, his every motion was slow and deliberate, carefully calculated to drive you insane.

You rolled your hips against his, urging him faster.

"No, sweetheart," Loki said. "Be good."

"I'm always good," you said and did it again.

Loki chuckled. His hips snapped forward and you gasped. You gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he took up the new pace. You matched him, meeting his movements with yours.

The world blurred around you. In a strange moment of déjà vu, you felt as if you'd been here before, doing this before. Of course, you had, but that wasn't quite right. It was almost as you'd imagined it. Before, so long before you ever had experienced anything with Loki, this is what you'd thought about in your dark, lonely room. This is what you had wanted, the secret desire you'd held. And now it was your reality.

You stroked your fingers through his hair, lavished him with praise, and let yourself slip into a place where didn't think anymore. He shuddered, responding beautifully to you. You clutched at him and called his name to the ceiling.

So beautiful when you come undone.

Truly, he was, you thought, as you watched him unravel in your arms.

#

You laid across Loki's chest, fingers tracing designs in the sweat on his skin. "We should go."

"Why is that?"

"We can't hide in here forever."

"And you want to go out and face the consequences of your actions?" Loki shifted under you, moved to your side so he could see you. "Have you thought that through, sweet? There won't be a person in Asgard who doesn't know by now. You thrive in shadows; you never draw attention to yourself. Are you so eager to stand under the scrutiny of the masses?"

You swallowed. Just thinking about it filled you with dread. "It is going to happen eventually."

"I didn't want this for you." Loki's face twisted in an unfamiliar expression. "You need to know that. I would take this from you if I could."

Your heart panged. "I know. But I don't regret what I've done." How could you? It was awful and terrifying and horrible, but you… you had Loki. Really had him. Didn't that make all the rest worth it?

Loki blinked, swallowed, and looked away. "If this is what you want, I'll be by your side."

You pressed a kiss to his lips and stood from the bed to get ready.

There was another new dress (how did Loki have an endless supply of clothes for you?) and you put it on without complaint. The low neckline showed off a series of marks on your throat that Loki had left. You frowned at your reflection and reached for the necklace that you'd worn almost ceaselessly since he had first given it to you. That felt like decades ago. This time, however, when the gems draped across your skin, the marks didn't disappear.

"Loki…" you said, taking the necklace off then putting it on again. Still no effect. "Loki, it isn't working." He made a noncommittal noise. You set the necklace down again and turned to him. "Why isn't it working?"

"Magic fades, sweet." Loki approached and stood behind you, looking over your shoulder and holding your gaze through the mirror.

Your heart panged in a new panic. "Fix it," you said. A pleading note bled into your voice.

He leant and pressed a kiss to your neck, directly over the mark he had left. "I think not," he said, lips catching against your skin.

Dread coursed through you as if ice water had replaced the blood in your veins. "Why not?"

Loki looked up again, his gaze fixed on yours, not wavering. "I won't give an answer to a question when you already know what it is, sweet."

Panic gave way to indignation. "Everyone will see," you said.

"They will."

"And what am I supposed to do about that?" You stepped away and faced him, hands clenched at your side.

"Hold your head high, love." Loki closed the distance you had placed between you and took your hands in his, smoothing them from the fists you'd made. "Let everyone see who you belong to." He twined his fingers through yours and stepped forward so you stood together. "You were so unafraid mere moments ago."

"This is different."

"Think, pet. Whether they see the marks or not, I think our endeavors will be widely known."

Heat swept through you. Humiliation, but something else too. You had hid for your entire life, sliding through society as if you weren't there. Now you had risked everything for this man. Defiance burned under your skin. Perhaps it was time for others to see you.

#

Your heart raced like a hummingbird's wings, quickening with every step you took closer to the feast hall where you would make your first appearance since… stars… It felt like a lifetime, but it was only a few days.

A few nights ago, you'd been celebrating your upcoming wedding with Thor and had made a scene after Loki's misbehavior. Now you would be making a scene of an entirely different sort.

Your feet slowed as you neared the hall, but Loki's hand around yours pulled you through your reticence. There was a heartbeat of quiet when you Loki stepped into the room. You felt the eyes of Asgard and you shrank behind Loki as if he could hide you. For all your bluster before, actually facing the crowd made you want to sink through the floor. Then, as if it had never stopped, the clamor of life resumed, almost as if everyone tried at once to pretend that they hadn't noticed you enter.

Loki seemed wholly unbothered. He strode through the crowd with the same confidence as always, finding his way to Thor and the other warriors as if he followed a beacon. Thor looked up from speaking with someone and the smile on his face dropped for just a second. It was back just as quickly. He winked to you and… that was it. He turned back to his friends, not excluding you as you most certainly felt you deserved. Your heart warmed through to him. Whatever happened, strangely, Thor could be counted among your allies.

The others looked to you, their eyes lingered longer than they ever had, but not a word was said. All seemed to be taking their cues from Thor, even if it was awkward. Loki took a seat, but there was no room near him. You stepped away, eyeing a chair on the other side of the table, but stopped short. Loki held your hand captive. You looked back at him and tugged—a tiny motion to not attract the interest of others, to not make a scene.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To take my seat."

"Your seat is here."

"There is nowhere to sit."

He shifted, spreading his legs wider apart, and you realized exactly what he had meant. You pulled back, a miniscule retreat, still unnoticed by those around you. His fingers tightened around your hand.

You stood in the silent stand off for a minute longer until the others around you began to take notice of the situation. You felt their eyes on you, heard murmurs begin to rumble. Loki would force you to make a scene in defying him. And he knew that. He was using that to force your hand.

You rolled your shoulders back and tipped your chin up, then stepped toward him and sat on his thigh with as much dignity as you could muster. Loki slung one arm around your waist and pulled you closer to place a kiss against your temple.

"Good girl," he said as he pulled away.

Loki didn't acknowledge his victory further. He returned his attention to the conversation as if he'd never left. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his thumb feathering back and forth.

You burned through your whole body. You could feel all the attention of Asgard on you. It was such a public display of ownership, as blatant as the marks he'd left on your skin. And he did it all so casually, as if this had been established long ago.

A tug on your hand turned your attention back to him and away from your own self-criticism. Loki asked you a question and you answered. Then he asked another. Before you knew it, he'd drawn you out of yourself and into him, pushing and pulling you as easily as he always did until you forgot where you were or what you should be doing, until you were laughing along with him and at ease with yourself again.

Not until he kissed you, in full view of everyone, did you remember what you had been tearing yourself up over. By then, it was far too late for you to feel anything but a surge of pride and happiness.

Chapter Text

You placed your necklace directly over the book in Loki's hands, cutting off his line of sight to read. "Fix it."

Loki looked up at you from where he reclined on the couch, resigned impatience written over his features. "I already told you I won't."

"You're being unreasonable. Between this and your behavior last night…" When Loki didn't pay any mind to the necklace, you set it on a nearby table. "It's humiliating."

Loki shook his head and returned his attention to his book. "Are you so ashamed to be with me?"

"That isn't what I meant and you know it," you said. "You're being terrible."

Loki turned a page. "You are mine and I'll have everyone know it."

"Everyone already knows it." You took the book from him, snapped it shut, and set it aside. "You said that yourself. What's the purpose of making a scene?"

Loki's face turned dark. He stood, looming over you. You resisted the urge to take a step back, though you had to crane your neck to meet his icy gaze.

"The purpose," Loki said, the words hard, "is that I will not have any single person—not one—think your attention wavers from me. There will be no doubt, no appearance of reluctance." He was trying to intimidate you, but you'd learned to see through his bluster. You pushed down the anxiety that rose under your ribs.

"Instead," you said, "you have made them think that you don't trust me more than an arm's length away from you. Or would you prefer to hold me on a chain?"

"Don't tempt me." Loki ran the backs of his fingers along your cheek. The heat in his eyes distracted you for a moment. You shook your head to clear the steam that vision conjured.

"You've shown all of Asgard that you're afraid that I will run at the first opportunity."

Loki didn't seem to have an answer to that. His mouth opened, then closed again.

You pressed the issue before he could find his voice. "I will always choose you. You know that." You stepped forward to wrap your arms around him and laid your head against his chest. "What better way to show that you have me than to let me do as I wish? They'll see that I return of my own volition."

Loki's fingers traced the line of your spine. You could feel him thinking it through, considering the new perspective.

"One condition, love," he said.

You sighed. Of course, he would make it difficult. "This isn't a negotiation."

Loki tipped your face up to his with his fingers under your chin. "Everything can be discussed. Just one condition, sweet." His voice dropped lower. "You stay here."

This again? You scowled at him. "You can't keep me here at all hours like some caged pet."

"Not a cage, love, a home." He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. "Live here, sleep here, be with me here; then, I'll grant your request."

"You want me to live in your rooms?"

"Our rooms," he corrected.

"That's ridiculous."

Loki's lips skimmed over your cheek before he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I don't think it is."

"I can't stay here." You pushed against his chest with no effect.

Loki didn't seem to notice your protest. "You can do anything you wish."

"But—"

"No arguments."

"Really—"

"I said no arguments." He held your chin so you were forced to look at him again. "If you wish, you may take the day to think about it."

"How generous." You rolled your eyes. This time, when you pushed, you managed to step away. "And what will you do if I say no?"

Loki's gaze raked over your form. "I'll find some other satisfaction from you."

"I'm sure you were planning to do that anyway." You set your hands on your hips.

Loki smirked. "Go ahead, love. Play games if you dare. I've asked you for something small."

You picked up the necklace and held it out to him. "This is something small."

Loki's eyebrow quirked. "Then you accept?"

"I accept one day to think about it. But you'll fix this"—you placed the gems in his hands—"as a token of good faith."

"You've become quite demanding lately, spitfire."

"You love it." You narrowed your eyes.

Loki pulled you flush against him and lowered his lips to your ear to whisper, "I'll love making you apologize."

You shivered. Loki dropped a kiss to your neck. You saw a flash of gold and felt a rush like stepping through a cold mist. Just as soon, the sensation was gone.

"Stay with me," Loki said as he pulled away. His gaze held yours, a hypnotic effect that made the 'yes' well up in your throat before you swallowed it down.

"One day to think," you countered.

Loki smiled, but there was something unreadable behind the expression that put you on edge.

#

Your mother wasn't speaking to you.

You shouldn't have been surprised. Your life was an endless set of rules, but really, they all tied together in one neat overarching principle: always do what was proper. You had taken a sword to that concept. Well, more like a hammer. Perhaps a bomb.

Disappointment wasn't a strong enough emotion to cover what your mother was going through now. Still, to you, it was preferable. Your mother could never know the alternative that Loki had first concocted.

Officially, it seemed there had been no word. Odin had given no pronouncement and you certainly did not intend to comment unprompted. Asgard was nothing but whispers now, a mass of rumors tied together only through conjecture.

There were few facts that all knew: you had been to marry Thor, you had quarreled with Loki, Loki had challenged Thor's claim to the throne of Asgard, and you had appeared publicly in Loki's embrace.

The masses' explanations ranged from the near true (that Thor didn't want to marry you) to the bizarre (that you had died and Loki's illusions were all that could maintain your appearance in Asgard). Oddly enough, none seemed to think that you could have actually fallen in love with Loki.

Regardless of what they thought, all eyes were on you as Odin conducted the day's business in the throne room. You caught Thor's attention from where he stood next to his father. Had Loki spoken with him yet? Had he explained? You felt the desperate need to apologize, but when would you have an opportunity to speak with him alone?

Unease rippled through the crowd, whispers and murmurs confirming that you had missed something. Thor's eyes turned dark and sharp, his face setting hard. You turned your attention back to what Odin was saying.

"—be no doubt that Asgard is ruled rightfully. The throne will go to the winner of the challenge, royal marriage"—Odin's eyes settled on you—"as the consolation to the loser."

Your heart dropped through to the floor as if turned to stone. What? Odin had allowed the challenge to stand?

.

.

.

Why?

You looked to Loki, but his attention was fixed elsewhere.

Certainty settled on your shoulders. Loki had known. He had to have known. And that's why he hadn't told you.

Loki had never intended for the challenge to happen. That was the whole point. By forcing his hand, Odin put him in the position of choosing between you and a rightful claim to the throne.

Loki had set this in motion the moment he made his challenge. Asgard would never rest not knowing what would have come of the contest. Doubt would always plague Thor's steps. Only a claim settled with all certainty would satisfy. Someone had to win. Someone had to lose. Odin knew that.

Odin would force Loki to humiliate himself, to seal Thor's place as king, and sacrifice his ego in the process. That is… if Loki wanted to keep you. It was a punishment more than even Loki could bear. And Odin knew that too.

You've tied yourself to Loki. I fear you'll come to regret that.

What happened to you if you irrevocably linked yourself to someone who chose something else?

#

When Loki returned to his rooms that night, you were already there, rummaging through a box of clothing and books, certain you'd left something important in your room.

"I couldn't carry everything." You stood and swept your hair out of your face. "I'll have to make arrangements."

Loki had stopped just inside the door, watching you as he had done before, as if uncertain that you were really there.

"You came," he said. He closed the door behind him, but didn't come further into the room.

"You asked me to."

"Yes. But you still came."

You felt the distance between you as if a canyon existed in its place. Your voices were friendly, but you there was another conversation happening just under the surface.

You heard the question that Loki didn't ask. Why had you come when you knew that he had a decision to make? He could choose the throne over you. Now that you knew that things were not as certain as they had been, had you lost your certainty in him as well?

That's why he'd tried to force your agreement that morning. He was considering doing it. You knew him too well to think he wouldn't. He would be a fool not to do so and Loki was never a fool.

What do you want?

Everything.

Loki came further into the room, step by careful step. He looked to your boxes, then back to you, watching you as if you would strike. "You plan to stay."

"You asked me to."

Expressions flickered over Loki's face, going to war across his features. He looked to the boxes, then back to you again, brow furrowed as if you were a puzzle with no answer.

Finally, Loki seemed to come to a conclusion and his expression closed off altogether. "You think that I stand no chance in a challenge against Thor," he said.

"You know better," you snapped. "Do not misunderstand my actions simply because it is easier to choose the throne if you're angry with me." Because that was what it was, in the end. Loki wanted to be king. He wanted you. He wanted everything and he never dreamed he'd have to choose. He was looking for a way out. You wouldn't let him doubt you in the process.

"I do know that you can defeat Thor," you said. "I know that this is your choice to make. And I know that I'm the reason Odin gave you the option in the first place." You stepped toward the couch and Loki circled the opposite direction, keeping you at the same distance. "Odin thinks you have a weakness," you continued. "He thinks it is me."

"And what do you think?"

"I've never found you to be weak in any regard."

You sat on the cushions and hunched over yourself, gaze sliding away from his. "I won't ask you to choose me," you said. "It would be selfish and fruitless." You couldn’t look to see if he had softened toward you, if he had approached. "You'll do as you please and I'll only make a fool of myself."

"So you're here."

"Because I told you that I'd always choose to come back. It's"—your eyes searched the room around you, as if it would offer an explanation for the swirl of emotions that coursed through you.

"A sign of good faith," Loki said, echoing your words from that morning.

"Why should I try to influence your opinion? I don't want you wounded and resentful. I don't want a half-hearted decision and I won't accept it." You looked back to find him a few strides closer, an arm's length away. "I wouldn't blame you," you said. "I'd be proud to have you as my king."

"And as your husband?"

"That too."

He reached for you, but hesitated. You weren't deterred; you placed your hand in his.

"It's alright," you said. "You don't have to choose right this minute. You still have me." You looked down and squeezed your eyes shut. For all your words, you were filled with dread.

The cushions sank next to you and Loki pulled you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder. He didn't offer comforting words and you wouldn't have wanted them anyway.

You didn't want any lies tonight.

Chapter Text

Perhaps Loki had meant for his kiss to wake you, but you had never descended into sleep to begin with. Still, you welcomed the affection.  

It was early, too early for anyone else in Asgard to have stirred. Maybe Thor was awake, pacing off the anxiety of the coming day in his rooms on the other side of the palace. You didn't know. You had a different prince to worry about, and if your touch could offer Loki any peace of mind, you'd gladly give it.

The lines of Loki's body were familiar now. Your fingers found each dip and curve with ease, touching him how he liked best. He lapsed into moans above you and nestled his face in your shoulder. His movements with you, his hands over your skin, felt too much like an apology. It was as if he was committing every detail to memory, as if he would never see you again.

Loki didn't speak. His uncharacteristic quiet was unnerving, but perhaps for the best. There was nothing he could say, nothing that would make you feel better. For now, you just wanted to feel him inside you, filling you, making you whole.

Maybe… maybe the moment could last forever. Maybe you would never have to miss the way he pressed kisses along your collar bone, or nipped at your earlobe, grounding you with the tiny pain, or how he pressed your knee gently upward, stretching you and going deeper, finding something inside you that made you see stars. No one would be able to know you this well again; you needed these short hours to last a lifetime.

Afterward—satisfied, but never really—you laid in Loki's arms. You buried your face in his chest so he wouldn’t see the tears that crowded your eyes. Loki ran the tips of his fingers up and down the length of your spine. The room lightened around you. The sounds of life waking in the castle intruded on the peace you had enjoyed.

"I have to go now, love," Loki said.

You swallowed, but couldn't force down the lump in your throat. You nodded instead. You let go of Loki, prying your hands away as if they weren't your own, and sat up. There was no way to mask the pain that would show on your face. You looked down.

You didn't speak as Loki prepared to leave. You couldn't wish him luck; he would see through the lie. You couldn't ask him what he would do, not when you were afraid of what the answer might be. You hugged your arms around your middle and closed your eyes against the feelings burning behind them.

Even that hurt. You should be watching him, shouldn't you? If this was the last time you'd see him like this, then you should look. You should remember. But looking was agony.

Loki tipped your face up with his fingers under your chin. He knelt in front of you, bringing your faces even and forcing you to see him. Your soul ached at the pain etched on his face.

"You mourn as if I've died," Loki said, "yet you don't know what will happen."

"Please don't." You shook your head. "Don't give me hope. It will just hurt more."

Loki sighed, then pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. "You're much stronger than I am, sweet, if you can let me go so easily."

"It's not easy," you whispered.

"No matter what happens, remember that I do love you."

You nodded. A tear rolled down your face and dropped across his hand where he still held your cheek. Damn it. Not now. You couldn't cry now. You would do that later, by yourself. You tried to turn away, but Loki's hand held you in place.

"Please, sweet," he said. "Just say it once more. Please."

You opened your mouth, closed it. The words had to be clear. You swallowed then tried again. "I love you."

Loki kissed you. You inhaled deeply, memorizing the moment, the feel of his lips against yours, his scent surrounding you. It was a memory that would haunt you, but that you wanted to preserve regardless.

You pushed all of your hurt and anguish deep inside you and forced them into a place where you couldn't see them. You would take them out again later, when this was all over, when you were alone and could fall apart.

Loki pulled away and rubbed his nose against yours, a soft, sweet affection. Then he stood and left. In his absence, you curled back into the blankets that still smelled like him, that still held his warmth.

#

You couldn’t hide, no matter how much you wanted to. You still had to attend the challenge. You had to be present, pretty, and polite. You had to sit under the scrutiny of all Asgard while your heart was ripped from your chest and burned to ashes at your feet.

How had you come to ever expect anything different?

You hesitated over your makeup, knowing it would cover the evidence of your misery, but wary that it would betray you all the more if you started to cry.

Is it so unforgivable that I wanted others to see you how I do?

Loki always liked to show you off; no reason for this to be any different. Once more… just once more, you would show yourself as the woman Loki loved. You wore the dress that Loki had given you, the one you'd thrown such a fit over so long ago, and fastened his necklace around your neck. If nothing else, even if you couldn't articulate what it was you wanted to happen, you intended to make your allegiance clear.

The day was a daze. You didn’t eat, though your mother urged you. You could not adopt the jovial mood that pervaded the halls. Strange, that Asgard had the feeling of a festival. Did they care so little about who ruled them? Was the drama of a contest worth more?

The tolling of the bell heralding the looming challenge—the sound you had dreaded all day—felt like release. It would be over soon. No more waiting. No more holding yourself together for a future that might never come to pass.

The challenge was held in a stone arena constructed to showcase military skills and mock battles with the warriors. It had never been designed to hold crowds such as it faced now. Throngs of people waited at the entrance, unable to do more than listen to the sounds of the packed viewers inside. Even in the chaos, they parted before you, sensing your presence as you approached. Eyes caught your form and lingered as you passed.

You sat by the queen, taking a place that would usually be occupied by one of the sons now engaging in a struggle for the throne. Frigga didn't speak, but took your hand in hers and gave a gentle squeeze. You returned the gesture, but couldn't find the strength to look at her face. What must she think of all this?

The crowd buzzed with excitement, or, perhaps, that sound was in your own ears. Even when Odin stood to speak, you heard him as if muffled through static. The rules were simple: to the winner would go Mjolnir and the throne. To the loser… you. The contest was decided when one brother yielded, through their words or their death.

Death. Strange… that outcome had never occurred to you. Of course, Asgard's warriors faced death every day. Death in battle was rewarded with the ultimate victory in Valhalla. You thought of one brother looming over the other's lifeless body. Your mind refused to decide which brother was the victor and which the deceased—switching the roles in a desperate bid to refuse the prospect altogether.

Thor emerged to raucous cheers and applause. He raised his arms in the air, beaming at the crowd, shouting to urge them on. Loki's entrance to the arena, in contrast, was subdued, barely noticeable. One moment he wasn't on the field, the next he was. There were cheers, scattered and soft, but still there. Your throat felt as if it was stuck together with pins. The only sound you could make was the slightest whimper and even that you pressed back.

You couldn't cheer for Loki. The truth was you didn't want him to win. But cheering for Thor would be a betrayal. Your only option was to sit and watch the direction of your life unfurl before you.

It was difficult to know when the fight actually started. There was a signal, but Loki stood, silent and still, seemingly relaxed and open, just… waiting. Thor started forward, but stopped short, watching Loki. Something sparked under your heart.

Tricks and traps and games.

You had played games with Loki enough to know he wasn't holding back. He wouldn't meet Thor with the same tactics every other warrior used. Loki was playing his own game.

Thor readjusted his grip on his sword and charged forward again at the combat began in earnest. Loki dodged Thor's every move, bobbing around each attack with only inches to spare. He fell into a pattern: avoid, attack, evade. He shimmered in and out of view. Duplicates on duplicates took his place and Thor swung at air more often than not. Loki's daggers flashed too fast to track, each hitting their mark. No single strike did more than annoy Thor, but that couldn't last forever. The damage would add up faster than Thor would anticipate… if Loki could hold out that long. Any attack from Thor could knock Loki off his feet, if Thor actually managed to land one.

You watched them with your heart in your throat. Your gaze never left Loki, never wavered from his face. He was all deadly precision. Thor finally landed a hit and you winced. Loki was thrown across the field, but got up in a roll. He held his hand to his ribs, favoring his right side. He had slowed now, slowed too much, but Thor was feeling the exhaustion too. Still, his hits were powerful, forcing Loki back whenever they struck.

A murmur rippled through the crowd. No one had expected an even match. Loki was so different from Thor, after all. They had never considered that a different sort of power existed, that Loki could meet strength with strategy.

Thor brought his sword down and Loki couldn't dodge in time. Lightning sparked and a flash of light overtook the arena. You flinched away. When you looked back, Loki still held off the hit, though he had dropped to one knee. Loki's arms shook from the effort of holding off the assault. They stood there, frozen like a statue of some epic battle. Perhaps, one day, there would be one.

There, with all Asgard holding its breath around him, Loki's gaze met yours. It was a moment, just one, but his eyes flashed gold and his stance shifted.

Loki surged up, shifting Thor off his balance and throwing him to one side. He presses the attack forward, forcing Thor to backpedal, a position he was clearly unaccustomed to taking. Thor struggled to get his feet under him again while Loki struck at every opening.

You rose from your chair, barely conscious of your own movement. You stood behind a pillar as if it could shelter you and peeked around the side. You leaned your weight against it, your shaking hands finding support in the steady stone. Stars, Loki would end it like this.

Thor swung his sword down in a powerful arc that split the air with a sound like thunder, but it was too late. Loki would have time to block, to dodge, to—

Loki slowed.

It was subtle, such a tiny change that no one would have seen—not even Thor—except you, who knew Loki's movements so well, and, perhaps, Odin, who would be looking for that very thing.

Thor's blow struck and Loki crumpled. For a moment, Thor stood over him, chest heaving and eyes wild. Loki wasn't getting up, but—

Panic surged through you and your feet started to move, ready for a desperate sprint to the arena below, when Loki rolled to his back and held his hand up to his brother.

The crowd erupted.

It was over. Over and done and Thor victorious.

No… Loki had tipped the odds against himself, giving up his chance at the throne and at ever knowing how his true strength would fare against Thor.

Still, it was over.

Loki chose you.

He chose you. He did. Loki—he—

You pressed your forehead against the cool stone and slowly sank to your knees. You didn't see Odin congratulate Thor. You didn't see him present Mjolnir. You didn't see the celebration sweep Thor out of the arena. The crowd was a roar around you, as bodiless as the ocean and as wild as the thoughts running through your mind.

It was over.

You took a shaky breath, pulled air in then pushed it out. Then again.

"Come." Frigga's voice cut through your daze. She took your elbow and gently raised you to your feet. "He will want to see you."

#

You found Loki in his rooms—your rooms. He had already removed his armor and sat on the bed, fidgeting with the bandages that wrapped his chest and shoulder. He didn't seem to notice your entrance, nor how roughly he pulled at the wrappings; he was too absorbed in something inside, something that turned his expression dark.

You knelt at his feet and placed your hands over his knee.

"Are you hurt?" you asked.

Loki's expression softened as he looked at you. He placed his hand on top of your head and stroked your hair from your face. "Nothing bruised but my pride."

"That can be a grievous injury indeed."

"Then you'll need to heal me." Loki tugged you up to sit beside him.

You shifted closer and took his hand in yours. "What do you want?"

Loki's eyes flashed. He pulled you forward into a bruising kiss.

"Everything," he whispered against your lips when he pulled away.

Chapter Text

"I've been looking for you." Loki's voice came from behind you where you sat in the library, curled in a chair with a book on your lap.

"You couldn't have searched long," you said. "There are few places I go within the palace walls"—you turned the page, but didn't turn to see him—"fewer still with which you are not familiar."

Loki tugged at your hair, tilting your head back so he could kiss you. His lips lingered over yours after he pulled away.

"I am familiar with all of them," he said.

You smiled, distracted by the softness in his eyes. "Why were you looking for me?"

Loki walked around your chair and knelt at your feet. "I wanted to see you." He leaned up for a kiss, monopolizing your space in the chair.

"Is that all?" you asked. You fought the urge to laugh as Loki crowded you, his hands everywhere at once. "You see me often enough."

"There's something to discuss." Loki nibbled at the edge of your ear, keeping you from squirming away with a hand at your cheek.

"And what is that?"

Loki abruptly pulled you out of your chair and used your imbalance to sling you over one shoulder. You gave a startled squeak as all the air left your lungs. There was no one to see the absurdity of your kidnapping, but you burned all the same.

"Let me down." You tried to maintain your dignity, through a world turned upside down.

Loki didn't heed your protest, striding through the shelves as if your weight meant nothing to him. He paused at the entrance of each aisle and looked down, as if assessing it, before moving on. Finally, he seemed satisfied and turned, depositing you on the floor of the library.

You landed on your rear with a whumpf and sat there for a moment, glowering up at him.

"Brute," you said.

"Careful, spitfire. You'll get in trouble."

You heaved yourself to your feet and faced him with your hands on your hips. "What is it you want?"

Loki smiled, but a feral edge crept into the expression. "Do you recognize where we are, love?"

You rolled your eyes. "In the library."

Loki stepped closer, walking you deeper into the aisle. "Be more specific."

You scanned the shelves on either side, looking for a clue, but struggling to see anything beyond Loki's looming form as he came closer to you.

"The back of the library," you offered. You were more than certain that you were walking into a trap.

"True, but not quite." One of Loki's hands wrapped around the nape of your neck, pulling you forward so he could kiss your throat.

You pushed against his chest, trying to gain some ground. "Somewhere secluded."

"Try again, sweet. Your guesses have been pathetic so far."

You searched the books and, finally, your eyes caught on a familiar volume. The War with Jotenheim.

Your mind whirred, making connections faster than you could keep up with them. Dark corridors and the hush of twilight. Something witnessed that wasn't meant to be seen. "This is where I saw you."

"Good girl." Loki practically purred. "Next, tell me why I would bring you here."

Why? Loki had a reason. He always had a reason. This was where everything started, where the whole damned fiasco began, and—

You stiffened in Loki's arms. When he didn't respond, you shoved at his shoulders, but he didn't seem to notice.

"We are not going to have sex in the library," you said through gritted teeth, struggling against his hold.

Loki broke away with a laugh. He looked down at you with a smile—infinitely affectionate, perpetually amused.

You glared at him. "We will not," you insisted.

Loki touched your cheek with the backs of his fingers. "After all our time together, how can you still muster such indignation?"

"Because I have dignity."

"Indeed you do." Loki pulled away. "I mean to strip you of it"—his eyes raked over you—"among other things." He seemed to get distracted for a moment, his attention lingering at the neckline of your dress.

When his gaze finally returned to you, he said, "Think of it as a sort of celebration, love, to mark our mutual affection and commitment."

"It's indecent," you said, "and we'll be caught."

"No one ever comes back here."

"I came back here."

"True. I never did expect you to wander into my life." Loki took your hand in his and pressed your palm to his cheek. "This is the first place we really noticed each other."

"You were with another woman."

"So?"

"So? You think that's romantic?"

"I think," Loki said, "that you are standing here now and she is not." Loki tangled his fingers through yours. "Give yourself more credit, sweet. I didn't intend for anything to last between us. You enthralled me against me better judgement."

"You're the one that insisted it would be more than one night." You retreated a step, but came up against the shelf. "I was ready to be done with it there. You just wouldn't give me what I wanted."

"But I did in the end." He pursued you, taking you in his arms again and resting his chin on top of your head. "You wanted me and I have given you all I have."

For as much as he claimed you and as much as he showered you with affection, Loki never made declarations of being yours. At least… not before. Your heart panged and your protest wavered. "All of you?"

"All the parts worth having." Loki nuzzled at your temple and feathered kisses along your hairline. "I'm only asking for one, tiny, thing in return."

You sighed. "You want to have sex in the library."

You felt Loki's smile against your skin. "I'll never make you do anything you don't want to do, sweet." He licked and bit at the corner of your jaw. "But I am very persuasive."

That was true and if you gave him enough time, he'd certainly bring you around. Even in the short minute since it first occurred to you, there was a small, traitorous part of you that had sparked to life at the idea. It was a part that Loki always managed to bring out, a part that you were starting to enjoy.

Of course, that didn't mean you had to give Loki everything he wanted.

You tilted your head to the side and Loki took advantage of the sensitive area behind your ear. "Alright," you said.

"Ask properly, love."

You smiled. "Not this time."

Loki stepped back, eyes narrowed.

"You're the one who wanted this," you said. "You have to ask."

He retreated another step and you closed the distance immediately. Oh, yes, you liked this better: putting Loki on his guard, making him consider if his wishes were worthwhile. Loki hated asking. If you pushed hard enough, maybe he would actually beg. You would like to see that.

"I'll give you whatever you want, Loki. All you have to do is ask." Loki came up against the wall and you stepped into his space. "What is it you want?"

A fire lit behind Loki's eyes. "I want you," he said. He gripped your arm in his hand, pulling you forward so he whispered the words in your ear. "I want to take you in the place where I first saw you, where I first thought of you. I want to chase the other memory out of your mind. I want you all around me, clinging to me like I'm the last thing you'll ever have. I want you sweaty, slick, and satisfied. I want you mad with wanting me and I want you now."

Stars, that sounded appealing… But still, you'd had a purpose in mind and Loki wouldn't walk around it this time with his words, no matter how much heat they conjured in your veins.  

You shook your head. "Try again. You have to ask nicely."

Loki's grip tightened. "Please."

Close enough. You pushed Loki against the bookshelf with a kiss. You stood on your toes to get as close as possible and gripped his shirt in one hand to pull him down to you. Your other hand went to the front of his pants and pressed along the hardening length you found there. He groaned into your mouth.

You nipped at his lip as you pulled away. "You have to be quiet."

Loki chuckled. His head fell back as you sucked a line of bruises into the skin.

"If someone catches us," you said, "I will blame you."

Loki tangled his fingers in your hair. "Fair enough."

He rolled you around so that your back was to the wall instead, then pressed you against it. His hands in your hair pulled you up to him in a ferocious kiss. You fumbled with the fastenings for his pants and felt a surge of triumph at the way he stopped breathing when you finally took him in your hands. True to his word, Loki didn't make a sound. But every muscle in his body seemed to go taut as he pressed impossibly closer to you. His head dropped to your shoulder.

You stroked slowly until his breath was ragged against your skin. One of Loki's hands slid down your side to your thigh. He hiked your leg up around his waist and pulled the material of your dress out of the way so you were bared for him. The head of his cock pressed against you and you bit back the moan that rose in your throat.

Loki kissed you as he thrust into you, muffling your gasp with his mouth. You couldn't help the whine that escaped when he took up a slow, deep rhythm that turned all your intentions inside out. You meant to unravel him, but stars, Loki would be your undoing.

The grip on your thigh was tight, almost painful, but it kept you in the moment, kept you from crying Loki's name to the ceiling. You moved your hips to meet his, losing track of yourself and urging him faster. You moved together, matching each other's motions. Like this—nearly fully clothed—it felt desperate. It heated you through and your mind glazed over, lost in the sensation. You didn't realize just how far gone Loki was.

"Please, love." Loki's voice was quiet, muffled against your shoulder. The change caught you off guard. You'd been too lost to notice how desperate his movements had become. "Please," he said again, "I'll give you everything. Just… please."

Your heart seemed to stop beating. "What do you want?" You stroked one hand through his hair and tangled your fingers in the strands to pull his face up to meet yours.

Raw emotion was written across Loki's features, something like hope and longing. His eyes held a request, one that couldn't possibly be put into words, but that you understood all the same.

He needed a connection, something deep and meaningful that you longed for as well, but you couldn't have said what it was. It was… a rightness. Belonging. Being Loki's and knowing he wouldn’t let go. That's what Loki was asking from you.

Loki closed his eyes, tried to look away, but you leaned your forehead against his and rubbed your noses together in a sweet, affectionate gesture.

"You're mine," you said, "and I love you."

That seemed to be exactly what Loki was seeking, even if he didn't know how to ask for it. His movements faltered, then he pressed you harder against the wall, thrusting hard and deep into you until you were gasping against his mouth. The only reason the whole library didn't hear you climax was because Loki kept you firmly in the kiss, swallowed the sound, even as he shuddered against you.

For a few moments after, it seemed as if the wall was all that held you up. Loki lowered you back fully to your feet and steadied you, though his hands were shaking as much as you were.

When he stepped away, you slid down the length of the wall, curling into a ball against the bookshelves. Your mind drifted, distracted by watching the way Loki moved as he readjusted his clothing.

This was ridiculous. You were ridiculous, being here, doing that. You should be ashamed of yourself, but instead, all you felt was the irrepressible urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Stars, how you'd changed. A giggle escaped, then another, until you were shaking with your face in your hands, trying to keep the sound to yourself.

Loki knelt in front of you and pulled your hands away. He searched your face, looking for something wrong.

"What is it, love?" he asked.

You reached out to smooth the line that always formed between his eyebrows when he worried about you. You flashed a bright, broad smile. All the worry that had accumulated in his expression vanished.

"Nothing," you said. "I'm just…"—you shook your head—"I'm happy."

"Of course you are." Loki leaned forward and gave you a long, affectionate kiss. "You're mine."

.

.

.

End

Chapter Text

Playing with you was just such fun. Loki had endless ways to torment you. And the fact that you enjoyed it—seemed to thrive off his tricks and games—only added to his enjoyment. There were always new means through which to drive you mad.

Forcing you to keep your hands to yourself was particularly effective. You always seemed so bewildered that he wanted to spend hours lavishing you with attention, as if you had no idea what simply watching you did to him.

Of course, you had never seen yourself fall apart. You'd never watched the expressions of want that turned to need that turned to pleading. You didn't realize how you clung to him as if he was the only thing in the universe. You didn't recognize what words you let tumble from your lips when you lost yourself completely.

Loki gloried in it.

It was the first thing that drew him to you. You hadn't meant to summon him, so you hadn't orchestrated your unknowing private performance. The way you'd writhed in the sheets, his name on your lips, brought everything into sharp focus. Loki had thought of fulfilling your wishes, but held back. Then you called him again. And again. And again. Loki attended without fail, entranced by the difference from the woman he had thought he'd known.

You had never held any fascination for him as Thor's fiancé. You stood on the sidelines, there because you had to be. But once Loki knew of your private thoughts—that you fantasized about something more than Thor could provide—he couldn’t resist. How could a creature so proper in public be so expressive when alone? What would it take for you to let go with him? You were a puzzle… and Loki loved puzzles.

He knew he wanted you the first time you called, vowed to have you the second. By the third, he'd all but claimed you as his own.

All of Asgard now recognized that claim. And Loki had no intention of letting you forget to whom you belonged.

Loki sat against the headboard of his bed with you nestled in front of him, back pressed to his chest and his hand between your legs. You whined and writhed against him, hands tangled in Loki's hair where he had commanded they stay. Your legs shifted restlessly against the sheets and sweat glistened over your bare skin. Loki had every intention of tracing those drops with his tongue when he was through with you—though that would be a while longer yet.

"Loki," you gasped, "Loki, please."

"No, sweet. Not just yet." Loki nipped the edge of your ear and basked in the way it made you arch against him with a moan. "You still have to wait. Trust me, love. You know how good it will feel."

"I can't…"

"You will because I told you to do so." He drew his free hand over your stomach and squeezed your breast. "You've been magnificent so far. Just think how wonderful it will be."

"Please."

"Begging won't help this time."

You bit your lip and let your head fall back against his shoulder.

"Good girl," he said, murmuring the words against your ear.

Loki sensed the intrusion before you did. He would have given all the world to have prevented the knock that pounded through the front door and echoed all the way to his bedroom. You jerked in his arms, body going rigid in a bout of modest fear. Loki tightened his embrace around you, holding you still though your first instinct was to flee.

"Hush, love," he said, dropping his voice to soothe you. You shoved against him, but he kept you locked firmly in his arms. "It's alright."

The intruder knocked again and Loki suppressed the swell of annoyance that followed. Obviously, no one else knew what he endured to keep his skittish pet happy in his embrace, but this really was a step beyond.

"Loki, really," you said, pushing at his arms. Your voice changed to the commanding tone you used when you thought you could order him around, the one Loki thought of as the voice of his Queen.

Loki sighed and gentled his grip on you without letting go. "I'll take care of it, love."

Creating a double required that Loki split his attention, embody both his own form and that of his replacement. It wasn't ideal, but keeping part of him in here, tangled in you, was infinitely preferable to leaving the room wholly and risking that you'd twist your sweet mind into knots in his absence.

While Loki nuzzled at your neck and tangled his fingers through yours, coaxing your hands back to his hair, his other form stalked through the outer chamber and greeted the intrusion at the door.

Thor.

Loki repressed the sigh that formed automatically. Thor launched into an invitation of some sort—adventure, glory, etc.—and Loki listened with less than half his attention. He was far more interested in what Thor didn't know, what was going on in the privacy beyond the closed door to Loki's bedroom.

Something wicked glimmered to life in Loki's mind and he found himself utterly unable to resist. His hands resumed their long strokes up and down your sides, over your legs. He kissed your neck, nuzzling your loose hair out of his way. You didn't protest until he dipped his fingers once more between your legs.

"Loki!" You jerked in his arms, but he held fast.

"Quiet, sweet, or he'll hear us."

"Stop that."

"I think not." Loki nuzzled the sensitive spot behind your ear. "I want you to come for me now."

"Have you gone mad?"

Loki chuckled. There was always that possibility when it came to you. "I'll stop whenever you want," he said, "but you have to finish for me first."

You whimpered and squirmed, his attentions melting you into compliance even as you fought it. "Please," you said, "please don't."

"Hush, love. We can be quiet. He'll never know."

"Loki…" you cut off with a cry as Loki pressed deeper. The sound rang too loud and in the other room, Loki's other form saw Thor's eyes flicker to the closed door. Loki pressed his hand over your mouth to muffle you and murmured reassuring words into your ear. But he didn't stop.

You moaned and rolled your head back against his shoulder, body tight all over.

He kept a close eye on your movements for any sign of real distress. Teasing was all well and fine, pressing the limits of your desire was delightful, but he had no interest in forcing you. It was a delicate back and forth, one he walked frequently with you. As much as he pushed, he didn't want to spend the night comforting you from his mistreatment. He absolutely hated for you to cry. You were his to care for; tears were glaring evidence of a failure to do so.

Still, Loki looked forward to what would happen once you finally gave in to him, when Thor left and he would be alone with your fury. There was no way that you wouldn't want your revenge on him after this. Whatever punishment you came up with, the prospect was delightful. You played rough when you were angry and Loki loved rough.

You were still resisting him, fighting the sensations he lavished on you. Your body was coiled too tightly, too tense. But he was patient and you were magnificent, still warring with yourself for control as Loki unwound you. You were hoping to wait him out, to fend off the need growing in you long enough for Thor to leave. Loki wasn't going to let that happen.

"You know what I want," he said. "I'll keep him here until you've given it to me."

Loki's double in the other room made small talk, delaying Thor's departure, though he wouldn't be able to do so for long. He didn't need much time.

Your body burned against Loki's. You squeezed your eyes shut and breathed in ragged gasps, when you managed to breathe at all. He'd never seen you so beautifully held against the brink. You were so close to shattering and that was all he wanted at the moment.

"Stop fighting it, love. You and I want the same thing. Come on, darling."

You whined in protest, but Loki could feel your resolve waver. You trembled all over, the war you put yourself through ripping you apart. When you finally let go, it was all Loki could do to hold you still and quiet.

You bit into his palm and the sensation went straight through him. Damn, Loki loved that, loved that you thought he was strong enough that you didn't worry about hurting him.

As he held your writhing form against him, Loki's double ushered Thor out with promises of joining him on whatever he'd first come about. The second the door shut, he let the double dissipate. He had more important matters to attend to. You laid across his chest, turned to him so your face rested just above his heart. Loki stroked soothing lines over your arms and sides, gentling you down from the height he'd pushed you to. Small whimpers and whines escaped your lips every time an aftershock rolled through your body. He held you close, kissed the top of your head. He liked this too, how you became so vulnerable, trusted him to care for you.

Loki let you rest for a few minutes, feeling your heart rate slow where it pounded through your chest. Your body was loose, lax and warm against his when he stirred you again.

"I think you rather enjoyed that," he said.

You looked up at him, eyes hazy for a moment before they cleared and you scowled. "You're a terror."

"Yes." Loki hummed and tugged you up for a kiss. "And you still love me."

You turned the kiss hard and bit at his lip. Your fingers raked down his side, hard enough to scratch. A pang of longing swept through Loki.

You pulled back. "After that stunt, I'm rethinking if I should."

"Little liar."

"You're an ass."

"Be angry with me if you like, sweet, but you enjoyed yourself and I love you too much to deny you."

You glowered at him. Your hand went to the front of his pants, pressing along the hard length. Loki bit back a moan.

"And if I left you here—desperate and wanting and unsatisfied—would you still love me then?"

"Ah, spitfire. I'd love you all the more."

You seemed taken aback by his statement, so Loki pressed forward. He sat up, bringing your faces closer together. He captured your hand, pressed it against him harder.

"Even if you left," he said, "you would always come back. I wouldn't have to wait long… and you are well worth the wait. You're magnificent when you play, little one—no matter how angry you get, how much you torment me. Passion is supposed to hurt, love. If by the end you haven't left a mark, you haven't tried."

A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes, a fire that Loki had learned to associate with all manner of pleasure. You leaned forward, pushing him back. You took his wrist in your free hand and pressed it against the headboard.

"I'll be sure to leave plenty of marks," you said.

A shudder rolled through Loki's body, pleasure peaking in anticipation.