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Chapter Text

When we materialize within the newly reconstructed Bifrost enclosure only my grip on the Tesseract keeps Loki from stumbling. Realm travel is always a rather disorienting experience and that’s if you’re fit to go in the first place, which Loki is not, far from it in fact.

I hold my tongue however and only nod to Heimdall since I have no intention of speaking to my brother in front of one of my father’s lackeys, close lipped as he may be about some things.

“Come,” I command instead, and begin walking towards the bridge since our horses are waiting at the end as per my request. Loki doesn’t really have a choice in the matter since his handcuffs are hooked to Mjolnir and I certainly have no qualms about dragging him, but I feel no resistance and I can feel him following half a step behind my left shoulder.

I wait until we are halfway along the bridge before stopping. Now that I’m confident we are far out of earshot of the watchful Heimdall, and that Father’s meddlesome ravens Huginn and Muninn are nowhere to be seen, I feel I can finally address him.

Loki stops as well and raises an eyebrow, but I’ve known my brother for so long that his stance alone says everything to me and he might as well have said aloud, ‘Get it over with and spare me your drivel.’ I can even hear his sarcasm in my head, despite the fact that he’s been gone from my life like that for the past several years, but a few years are nothing compared to the previous centuries that came before them.

I sigh and run my hand over my face tiredly, suddenly feeling so very weary and I wonder if this weight upon my shoulders will ever become easier to carry.

I return my gaze to my brother and wonder idly if my mind chose this place subconsciously for a reason, as this was where I lost Loki in the first place. ‘But that is not true is it Thor?’ a voice whispers in my head that sounds disturbingly like Mother chastising me. It’s true, I may have lost Loki here on this bridge physically, but mentally I lost him a long time ago, and the most distressing part of it all is that I couldn’t even tell you when that was. Was I truly so absorbed in myself to be so blind? I was, I really and truly was. Loki is in no way absolved of his crimes or faults, but mine are no less great in measure.

When did everything go to Hel while I wasn’t paying attention? The time to ponder such things is not now however, later in my room over a strong drink in front of the fire perhaps.

Loki looks about as weary as I feel, though I can tell he’s trying hard to mask it. He looks… aged, old in a way I don’t remember him being, though it seems to be more in his eyes and aura rather than in the lines of his face.

“I am angry with you Brother for what you have done,” I intone lowly, watching Loki’s poison green eyes flash and narrow in anger, I presume because I called him brother.

I sigh heavily and continue, “Call it sentiment if you want, but with as angry as I am I am more glad you are simply alive and to have you home, I had thought you dead.”

Loki snorts and rolls his eyes making me frown deeply and remark, “You may not care, but I could not bear the thought of losing you, I felt as if I had lost a limb.”

Loki just looks bored but I’m nearly done as it is anyways only adding, “I am angry, but it will fade, and I will forgive you in time even if I never understand why you did this. My greater hope, now that you are home, is that I might work towards earning your forgiveness as well if you deem me worthy.”

Loki suddenly looks away, jaw tight behind his gag, and begins to tug on the chains in the direction of the gate. I take a brief moment to look at him because even though he looks unhappy he doesn’t look particularly angry like I expected, but I eventually comply with his insistent tugging and we continue our journey along the rainbow bridge.

At the gate I unhook Mjolnir from Loki’s chains so he can mount up and I can pony his horse instead, as I doubt he’s going anywhere with a full escort of Einherjar to the palace. My part in this is done and now I am merely but a spectator in all of this, Loki is at the mercy of Asgard’s justice system now, or the Allfather’s rather.

Once at the palace and dismounted I walk in front of Loki’s escort, leading them to the throne room where Father, Mother, and I assume a select few officials from the court will be waiting to hear out Loki’s sentencing. Just as I expected Father is seated on his throne with Mother on his right while a few of his favored court advisors flank the sides of the room along with another troop of Einherjar, a little overkill in my opinion.

I fall to my knee in front of Father and wait for him to acknowledge me before moving to stand off to the side near the foot of the stairs of the throne and feel nervousness begin to coil in my gut with the uncertainty of my brother’s fate hanging over my head like this.

“Loki Odinson,” Father begins and I can see Loki’s grimace even behind the gag.

“You have committed terrible acts against Midgard and Jotunheim, and knowingly endangered the citizens of Asgard, none of these realms deserving the wrathful rage you sought to inflict upon them. I will admit that much of the fault lies with me, and that I should have told you of your heritage a long time ago. You claim you are not an Odinson and this is true, now for the remainder of your life you can contemplate the name Laufeyson every time you gaze upon your skin. I strip from you the skin I gave you as a babe and allow you to be as you truly are,” Father reaches out with his hand makes a jerking motion.

My eyes track back to Loki and his eyes are wide with surprise before he falls to his knees, and I know he’d be screaming if he could. My breath catches seeing his milk white skin bleed a light cerulean blue and lines etch upon his skin as if a calligrapher were scrawling them elegantly upon the contours of his cheeks, forehead, and hands. Loki’s horns look painful to grow just from where I’m standing and curl like a ram’s. His eyes, when they open, are shockingly crimson rather than the vermillion of the other Jotnar I encountered in Jotunheim and they burn, oh how they burn.

Even the Einherjar take a step back from him and I have to frown, because I find nothing repulsive about Loki’s new form. If anything it’s… beautiful, though rather dangerous looking I’ll admit.

Father breaks my concentration by picking up again with, “I know not what to do with you Loki, but this time it seems you have made the decision for me. Jotunheim demands justice for their slain king and they demand your life as penance for this crime. All I can do now is offer you a clean death rather than turn you over to Jotunheim and let them execute you in any way they deem fit. Your execution is set at dawn. Take him away.”

I feel all the blood drain from my face. This can’t be happening. My gaze connects with Loki’s, and I only briefly register that he doesn’t look surprised, but then the time stop seems to be lifted from me and I surge forward exclaiming, “Father you cannot!” only to be seized by several Einherjar.

“Thor hold your tongue!” Father warns.

“I did not bring my brother all the way home just to watch you execute him!” I rage as they escort Loki from the room, knocking one Einherjar solidly in the jaw to reach for Mjolnir, to do what with I’m not entirely sure just yet, but I can’t just let them take Loki, I can’t.

“Thor please stop,” I hear over my struggling, and I would know my Mother’s voice anywhere, but it’s even worse because I can tell she’s distressed.

I cease my struggles and my gaze seeks her out, finding her hazel eyes regarding me sadly.

“But Mother,” I try and she simply shakes her head replying, “I know Thor.”

It feels as if I have been speared through the heart and I know I am going to cry. “Get off me,” I growl threateningly, jerking away from the Einherjar, and without another word I storm from the throne room, intent on getting to my quarters first before I fall apart completely.

I don’t remember the last time I cried. I’ve shed a tear or two here and there but actually crying, all out shoulder shaking sobs? It’s been eighteen hundred years at least, not since I was a boy. Now none of that seems to matter and I just collapse on the floor of my room.

It was terrible thinking Loki had died when I lost him to the Abyss beyond the Bifrost, but at least I had some small measure of hope. Now just when I’ve found him again and brought him home I will be forced to watch his execution and worse still I’m the one that delivered him to it.

I just sob, and sob, and sob my pain into my hands, for how long I’m not sure.

Chapter Text

My head hurts from all the crying I’ve done, but with all my tears are spent I simply left with a feeling of hollowness. In the emptiness left behind my mind inevitably turns back to disbelief. I just can’t believe this. How could it have come to this? Father’s sentencing felt so… cold. Surely something else could have been done, surely there is some other way. I decide to find Mother, if anyone can make Father see reason or know someway out for Loki it’s her.

I go splash water on my face and spend a moment trying to put myself together before exiting my rooms. In passing one of the many windows I realize night is already beginning to fall causing me to hurry my gait along as I make my way to the gardens, which are my Mother’s favorite place to think.

I know Mother is here because the walkway lanterns of the garden path are lit by the light of her rose gold colored seidr. I slow down some and walk the familiar path, the twists and turns leading to her favorite willow tree second nature to me now with all the times I have navigated it.

Mother is seated on her wooden bench beneath the willow knitting something and looking so very forlorn, which is an emotion I am unused to seeing on her fair face. She looks up hearing my footfalls and sets her knitting aside as she pats the bench saying softly, “My son, I was wondering when you would come find me.”

I sit heavily and the bench creaks in protest to the rough treatment but I ignore it in favor of burying my face in my hands. “Tell me this is a nightmare Mother. Tell me this is not happening. Tell me that I did not find Loki just to bring him home to die,” I plead, my voice going rough at the end with tears that I thought I’d run out of.

I feel her gentle fingers card through my long hair and I feel my resolve begin to crumble again as another all out breakdown approaches. I look over at her and plead earnestly, “Tell me there is another way Mother. There must be something we can do. Please do not make me watch my brother die, not when I have just found him again. Just something Mother, anything.”

Mother regards me with her wise hazel eyes and strokes my scruffy cheek with her thumb for a long moment before saying, “You often speak out of passion my son, your words true and full of good intention but rarely well thought out as to the consequences they might incur. So I will ask you, do you really mean that when you say anything to save Loki’s life?”

I frown and can’t come up with anything more than, “I am willing to forfeit my life for Loki’s, but I do not think that is what you intend to ask of me so I am at a loss. There is nothing I can think of that I would not do, no length that I would not go to, in order to keep Loki from this fate.”

Mother’s expression is indecipherable to me until she says, “A sacrifice of life for love is easy. It is a black and white decision, either you love enough to take their place or you do not, simple as that. To bind oneself for love is something else entirely. It requires patience, understanding, compromise, and work between both parties for the bond to become a priceless treasure rather than a loveless trap holding two unwilling life forces within its jaws.”

“You are proposing a Life Bond,” I breathe, my words only a whisper because that’s all I can manage. It’s genius and insane at the same time. It’s old, old seidr, Father and Mother, and perhaps Eir, being the only ones that could even perform the rite anymore at least on Asgard. Our life forces would be bound as one, and to kill Loki would kill me too, but it’s so much more than just our life forces being bound, it’s a joining. It was the how marriage was done in the ways of old, but the tales leftover and what Mother has told Loki and I as children of her bond with Father is that it’s intimate and not something to be done lightly as it can’t be broken. Loki is never going to agree to this, executioner’s block or no. 

“Yes,” Mother concedes with a nod, looking gravely serious.

I frown and return, “For argument’s sake say Loki agrees, which I doubt, then what? We show up bonded to his execution before the party from Jotunheim and just hope for the best? That they will not take his life anyways as penance and mine in turn? I worry that my being bonded to Loki will not be enough to slake their wrath in this respect.”

“No,” Mother acknowledges, but adds, “It has long been past time for Jotunheim to have a chance at redemption. Especially now that Laufey no longer sits upon the throne and his more peaceable son Helblindi has taken his place the Casket needs to be returned to its rightful home so that the Jotnar may prosper once more. I doubt they will much care for Loki’s life if it means securing the Casket in his stead, as that is what they came to Asgard seeking in the first place after all.”

This… this could work. Still… “You realize Loki is never going to agree to this,” I point out.

Mother only smiles and replies, “Let me worry about that Thor.”

I hesitate and then ask, “Can I speak with him first? Not about the bond, I just…” and I sort of trail off.

Her smile softens and she pats my hand as she replies, “Go, I need to retrieve your ribbons and then I will be down as well.”

Chapter Text

Loki is in one of the enchanted isolation cells, only kept inside the glass walls by the collar around his neck, but at least he isn’t gagged or handcuffed anymore as the collar suppresses seidr as well.

I glance at the Einherjar flanking his cell and command, “Leave us.” The guards share a look with each other, clearly having been ordered not to abandon their posts, but wisely choose not to question me and step outside.

Loki is seated on the bed, having shed his coat, with his back to the wall and leaning against it, head tilted back and eyes closed. I step inside the enclosure and stop a respectable distance from him.

“What do you want Thor?” Loki asks tiredly, not even bothering to look at me, his voice scratchy and hoarse from disuse, and I doubt they’ve given him anything to drink making me frown. 

I want to apologize but I know better so instead I offer a rough, “I truly did not know Loki,” his name tumbling from my lips for some reason rather than my preferred Brother, why I’m not sure. Perhaps seeing him like this I see for the first time how very unrelated we are, but I hardly love him any less.

Loki opens his crimson eyes to look at me and he simply regards me for a long moment with a fairly inscrutable expression on his face before sighing, “I know Thor.”

Loki doesn’t even look upset and it finally hits me causing me to accuse, “You knew! You knew this would happen! Why? Why did you not run when you still could on Midgard?!”

Loki sighs again and replies wearily, “I am tired Thor and I would have had to return eventually. What difference does it make if I die tomorrow or ten years from now? And of course I knew, I have outlived my use in Odin’s eyes. I have nothing redeeming to offer thus I am disposable. Collateral damage as it were to keep his precious realm relations in place just the way he likes them.”

Loki’s words taste bitter in my mouth, and though I have issue with his delivery I fear there might be far more truth in them than I care to admit. Loki grins like a shark at me, showing off sharp canines, seeming to know how much his words unsettled me.

“Not if I can help it,” I mutter, taking a seat in the lone chair and crossing my arms stubbornly.  

Loki raises and eyebrow at me, but I only offer, “Mother will be here soon,” to sate his curiosity.

Chapter Text

******This is the song that inspired this part of the fic. Give it a listen please! Mordred's Lullaby by Heather Dale, and no I obviously don't own the song.******

Mother comes sweeping in not even ten minutes later and we both straighten immediately. Loki looks uncomfortable and I watch his gaze dart between Mother and me a few times before finally settling on her. Mother hardly seems to notice and glides gracefully over to Loki’s cot only to settle herself on it beside him. She takes his hand just like she always does mine whenever she converses with me, and I can’t help a small smile at how surprised Loki looks with Mother acting as if nothing has changed with his new look and really nothing has, he’s just rather… blue now.

“Mother,” Loki manages evenly, “I was not sure I would see you before the morn.”

Mother frowns and clucks her tongue disapprovingly before reprimanding, “You know better than that my son. I felt my time was better spent trying to think of a way to ensure your safety and I think I have a solution if you are amendable.”

I barely restrain my snort because I know this is going to go over so well. Loki frowns in confusion, but lets Mother withdraw her hand from his and now she opens her clasped left hand that has our rolled up Life Binding ribbons in it and uses her right to smooth them out across her lap. Mine is a deep crimson and Loki’s is the same forest green of his seidr and both are inscribed with runes. Presumably we’ve had them since birth and Mother wove them for us, and the seidr and runes into the weave as well. They were meant for when we took a bride of our own and wished to perform a Life Bond with them and then Mother would have woven them their own ribbon to use in the binding, but now it appears as if fate has intervened in some twisted way and ours that were made together were meant to stay together.

Loki looks up at Mother his expression incredulous before glancing over at me and then back at Mother before saying, “Surely you jest.” I’m on the verge of opening my mouth, but a glance from Mother stays my tongue and instead I allow her to try her hand at convincing Loki, besides I know I will only make him angry as it is.

Mother levels Loki with a rather hard look and replies, “Your predicament is dire my son and this is the best protection you can afford. With this you can force Odin’s hand and make him use the Casket in the stead of your life. No it will not be pretty, and yes he will be less than pleased, but at least this way you have the best chance of leaving with your life and Thor and I will stand behind you in this.”

Loki stares at her for a long moment and then looks down at the ribbons for nearly a minute before sighing heavily. He glances back up at her and asks, “He agreed to this?” I want to roll my eyes, I am right here after all.

Mother smiles slightly and nods replying, “Yes.”

Loki runs a tired hand over his face and grimaces when his fingers catch on his horns. He glances at me briefly before returning his attention to Mother and asking, “Agreed as in just said yes, or took two minutes to think about what this is actually going to mean for the rest of our lives? You do realize I cannot stand him and my sense of self preservation compels me to agree to this absolutely insane plan correct?” Well there’s the Loki I know, I think with a sigh.

Mother’s smile grows more enigmatic and she replies, “Just know Thor’s heart is in the right place my son. There is a reason you plan and he enacts, it is how you function together. Thor does not sit in the future or the past as you do, he much prefers the present and leaves the worrying to you. As for your tolerance of him, only time will tell.”

Loki purses his lips and mutters, “This is madness, being Life Bonded to Thor of all people,” but he begins rolling up the sleeve of his tunic which I take as an assent so I unbuckle my vambracer in turn as our wrists and forearms need to be bare for the ribbons to be tied.  

Mother stands and makes a complicated knot between the ends of our two ribbons leaving it one long ribbon with the knot in the middle before gesturing for us to stand in front of her. I approach Loki a little hesitantly, we’ve only seen one of these before when we were almost too small to remember and were allowed to watch Mother officiate as long as we promised to be quiet. A Life Binding Ceremony is intimate and special and really I can’t picture anyone I’d rather have in Loki’s place, I would only wish for different circumstances and perhaps several centuries of festered bitterness shaved off, but I can hardly do anything about that now.

I grasp Loki’s slender blue right hand in my own large calloused one and marvel for a moment at how much cooler his skin is. Loki has always run a bit cool, but now his skin borders on cold, and it feels striking against my own warmth. I watch Mother lay the knot over our clasped hands ribbons reversed so that my crimson faces Loki and his green faces me. I know that whoever crafts the seidr into the ribbons has to perform the binding but how that crafter enacts said runes depends entirely upon them. I’m no seidmadr myself so I won’t even pretend to know the specifics of rune empowerment, but from the stories Loki would read me when he was on a bender about Life Bonds after Mother let us watch that one ceremony described the officiator using everything from chants to songs to the words of power to enact the runes along the lengths of ribbon to bind the two life forces into one. Mother had hummed a song for the couple, one I hadn’t known, and it was beautiful, but it had obviously moved them because they cried hearing it. I never asked Mother what that song was, but she has always used music to weave some of her strongest spells.

Some of my fondest memories are of when Loki and I were small and still shared a room and she would sing us to sleep. I remember those nights best because there was never any fuss between Loki and I about sharing a bed and instead he would clamber into mine so we could both be close to Mother and hear her well while she sang. I had the best of both because I got to hold onto the person I loved most in the world all night and have Mother sing my favorite lullaby until I fell asleep.

I watch Mother’s hands smooth absently over the ribbons making sure the knot is even and the ribbons hang even and straight, but I nearly startle when I hear the first strains of the lullaby that’s playing in my head hummed aloud. The first runes on either side of the knot and framed by Mother’s thumbs where she holds the ribbons glow rose gold and it feels as if someone has lodged a hook in my chest. My gaze flies up to meet wide crimson, and for once Loki looks as if the rug has been pulled out from underneath him and he’s just as surprised as I am. Mother just continues to hum and I can feel her progression along the runes more because it feels like a line from the hook in my chest is being fed down my arm to our clasped hands and I find that I cannot look away from Loki, but it seems he can’t either.

I feel my life force finally make contact and coil around Loki’s, and his mine, when Mother loops the ribbons around our wrists to form our bands and I have to resist the urge to flinch. Loki’s life force is jarringly cold and decidedly jagged feeling, it is not a nice feeling by far, and I can feel Loki trying not to withdraw from mine in turn making me wonder what mine feels like to him. Mother doesn’t give us a chance to ponder, we’re only halfway done, and instead continues her humming enacting the rest of the runes to finish the knot. It is not pleasant in the least, because I feel myself forced to travel up Loki’s arm, delving deeper into the coldness and coiling tighter around his jagged edges. By Yggdrasil no wonder he’s so prickly if this is any representation of how he feels inside. Loki’s core is nothing more than a snarl of frosted brambles and thorns and I wonder just what I’ve gotten myself into.

Mother finishes the lullaby as she ties the beginning of the bow, but before she finishes she intones, “May you both know the pain and joy you bring each other in equal measure from here on out,” and with that she ties the bow. I don’t remember agreeing to that, but it’s a little late now as the ribbons glow the rose gold of her seidr before fading and becoming simple ribbons.

Chapter Text

For Sigynthefaithful since you were the first to comment and made my day!

Mother unties the ribbons and pulls them from out clasped hands leaving a green inch wide band with Loki’s name on my wrist while Loki has a crimson one with a rune bearing my name as well. The other thing I notice when Loki pulls his hand from my grip is that the presence in my chest is still there it’s just not as sharp anymore, like Loki has pulled as far back as two creatures stuck in the same cage can be from one another. What did I expect though? Cooperation? Hardly, I think with a sigh.

“I will stay here Mother, you should rest,” I intone lowly.

“You will not!” Loki snaps looking incensed at the prospect.

“I would feel better if he did dear,” Mother remarks as she lays a gentle hand on his upper arm.

Loki blows out a long breath that comes out frosted but he only nods and allows her to kiss his cheek stiffly before flopping onto his cot petulantly. I barely restrain myself from rolling my eyes, hugging and kissing Mother goodbye instead before settling into the chair to wait out the night.

Loki doesn’t even spare me a look as he rolls to face the wall away from me, but it seems he can’t help one last biting comment of, “I know it is difficult for you but do try not to be more insufferable than usual. This day has been trying enough without you adding anything else to it.”

No, Loki certainly hasn’t lost any of his bite that’s for sure. One would think after all these years I would be impervious to his insults, but really it has nothing to do with that at all, and instead it just hurts to know I’m a disappointment to him, that I’m not good enough for his love anymore. It’s worse because I think I deserve it, but at least the sting is duller now after being used to the idea for so long.

Loki flinches almost as soon as the words are out of his mouth, and I worry for a split second if he is alright, but the next he has sat up and turned to look at me with a rather wide eyed expression as he mutters, “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Pardon?” I ask in confusion.

Loki looks at the ceiling and says, “Mother this is not fair,” before turning his eyes on me and accusing, “And you acting like some ridiculous kicked hound pup. That a simple insult would hurt your feelings, you are pathetic Thor.” With that Loki flops back down onto the cot facing away from me, leaving me to figure out what in the nine he was going on about in the first place.

I go over the last hour in my head, and though I can be a bit oblivious at times I am not the complete fool Loki makes me out to be, so I catch on fast enough. Oh Norns, we’re in quite the predicament if Mother’s seidr holds, because either Loki is going to have to stitch his mouth shut again, or I’m going to have to grow a thicker skin, or go deaf I suppose. I know Loki will never be able to help himself when it comes to his jibes and insults, so we’re in hot water for sure with this. I wonder what it felt like, whether it was physical or emotional pain he felt, and I’m not sure I want to find out. I do wonder what Mother’s motivation was, because this certainly doesn’t seem like a good way to get Loki to like me, and instead seems like the best way to get him to resent me all the more. I sigh and rub my face tiredly with one hand.

Though I’m tired and weary I’m still too alert to sleep, and though I’ll never tell Loki I can’t even begin to say how comforting it is to feel him with me in my chest and know that he is safe. I can feel when Loki finally falls asleep because the tension in the bond relaxes and I realize that Loki can’t keep himself away from me when he’s unconscious because that isn’t the bond’s natural state. It’s a relief for sure and I feel the headache that I didn’t know was building behind my eyes start to ease now that he isn’t actively resisting it.

Loki is still so prickly and cold, it’s like being wrapped around a rose bush in winter with some pieces of shattered glass and bramble stuck in it for good measure. Even if Loki’s life force isn’t particularly nice feeling, it feels much better intertwined with mine rather than pulled away when it isn’t meant to be anymore. In my head, metaphorically speaking of course, I can envision the space where Loki and I exist now, the cage more or less. We’re intertwined and yet not. I watch him as I reach out and gently stroke the thorny thing that is Loki. Loki shifts a bit and the bush sort of shudders at the touch but when I do it again I watch the real Loki relax more in his slumber. I smile and settle for petting the thorny bush, and though it’s hardly comfortable I think it’s good for Loki. Who knows the last time he had a good night’s rest as it is.

Chapter Text

And this one is for all of the lovely people that left me kudos! This is the only sense of social validation I get with finals and papers coming to bite me in the ass. RL sucks. Q.Q

And now that I'm done feeling sorry for myself here it is!

Helblindi accepts the Casket in place of Loki’s life, and seems more than pleased to do so, and to say Father is incensed is an understatement. The only people that will ever know that Father actually intended to follow through on Loki’s execution besides my family are Father’s advisors and the Einherjar, who are sworn to him so they will not speak a word. As far as the rest of Asgard is concerned I am the one that ‘selflessly’ Life Bonded myself to my adoptive brother in an effort to save his life. It’s ridiculous is what it is, and I do not like that Father would allow such a misconception to be encouraged in the least, but to disprove it would cause a scandal of epic proportions. The offer of the Casket in Loki’s place is also played up as a gesture of good will from the Aesir to the Jotnar and it makes me nauseous, though Helblindi does seem rather level headed and diplomatic for a Jotun I’ll admit. Loki’s mood throughout the ordeal is understandably sour and I can feel it from him because the sharpness to his thorns seems to increase as well as his coldness, but I can hardly blame him.

When it’s all said and done and the Jotnar have turned to leave with their Casket I wonder briefly what happens now. Father has technically already passed Loki’s sentencing so theoretically Loki is free, but I doubt it will be that easy. Father turns to us, as I’m standing next to Loki, and says in a grave voice, though he’s really addressing Loki more than me, “If you use your seidr to maim another you will be shackled indefinitely. You have three years before I force you, and if you do not think I will then test me. You have both made your bed, now you will lie in it. I will not allow Thor’s ascension to the throne without ensuring its succession first.”

Loki pales considerably and I choke. Surely he cannot mean…

“Father, Loki is my…” I begin but he cuts me off with a sharp, “Adoptive brother whom you chose to bond with. You are married essentially and Loki is perfectly capable of bearing an heir. Now he will earn his life by lending in the creation of another.”

Loki simply turns on his heel and walks back up to the palace, but I feel rather rooted to the spot even when Father turns away with his escort and leaves. Mother appears in my line of vision and sets a hand on my arm as she asks gently, “Thor?”

She’s wearing a rather worried frown on her face but I don’t even know what to say, or where to begin, or what to feel for that matter. I feel ill, disturbed, unsettled, angry, upset, enraged, unhappy, dismayed, confused, betrayed, but more than anything I feel violated for both Loki and myself.

“I do not know where to even begin,” I nearly whisper, feeling as if I’m going to collapse in on myself at any moment from all of the emotions running through me.

Mother cups my cheeks and replies, “Go try and get some rest, and when you are ready for some advice come find me. Let Loki be for now, he needs to sort through his inner turmoil on his own as well.”

I can only nod and let my feet carry me to my room, collapsing onto my bed with my mind in a flurry of thoughts. Eventually though I slide into blissful black oblivion, where I am no longer tormented by this spectacle that has suddenly become my life.

Chapter Text

It’s late afternoon when I wake and I feel as if I have been worked over by a Bilgesnipe, an unpleasant feeling to say the least. I make myself get up anyways and see that a servant left a tray of food on the table making me realize that I haven’t eaten anything since getting home. I don’t have much of an appetite so I only take one of the apples and drink some of the water before heading to the gardens to find Mother.

I find Mother on her bench knitting again and take a seat next to her, watching her set it aside in favor of taking my hand. “This is one of those consequences you were talking about is it not?” I ask, my voice coming out low and rough.

“Yes,” Mother replies.

“How could Father demand this of us? Especially of Loki. This is just… Loki is my brother. I have never… How can I be expected?” I ask, my queries only coming out half formed, and as jumbled as I feel.

“Thor do you not think it strange that you have never taken a wife?” Mother asks, while looking at me with a rather intense expression.

I frown and reply, “No, I have never found a woman interesting enough. What has that to do with anything?”

“Compared to who though dear?” Mother asks.

The answer, “Compared to Loki of course,” is out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

Mother just looks at me pointedly. Oh, but still, “That does not mean I want him,” I mutter, looking at my lap.

“No,” Mother agrees, but goes on to say, “But it certainly says something if you have been using Loki as your measure for a potential partner. Loki used to be your whole world, why can he not become it again? This does not have to be the death sentence you are making it out to be if you open your heart to learning how to love Loki in a different way.”

I look up at Mother and frown before hedging, “I can try.”

Mother pats my hand and returns, “And that is all I could ask of you.”

I hesitate before asking, “What about Loki?”

Mother sighs sadly before replying, “Whether Loki can learn to do the same is another matter entirely. His was an uphill battle without this load upon his shoulders.”

While the knowledge hurts I know it to be true, so I can only nod and thank her for the advice before being on my way.

I wander the gardens for a bit before heading back to my rooms only to find Einherjar posted outside my doors causing me to demand, “What is the meaning of this?” as my temper is rather pushed to its limit already. “We are to escort you to your new quarters, your things have been moved already,” one of the Einherjar replies evenly. I can hear thunder rumble outside ominously in a reflection of my foul mood, but I follow the Einherjar nonetheless.

Loki is already in our new room curled up on the armchair with a book. Before I can open my mouth he holds up a hand without looking at me and says, “This will go much better if you just do not even speak to me right now, my tolerance for your stupidity at the moment is nonexistent.”

This is just going to go so well. Rather than piss the Jotun off by hovering I just leave and go to the training arena. I need to hit something hard anyways.

Chapter Text

Year One

Living in close quarters with Loki is like living on Muspelheim in one of their lava pits and having to avoid the puddles. I try to stay out of the room as much as possible except to sleep, but I also try to stay up until Loki is asleep because it is the only sliver of peace I get all day. The strain put on the bond hurts my head and my heart because of how much Loki pulls at it when he’s awake, and perhaps it is selfish of me, but when he’s asleep I feel it is the only piece of him I truly have that is all my own. It hurts in a way that I can only describe as I feel utterly wrong when Loki resists the bond. So nights are my only solace, where I can gently stroke the prickly thing that is Loki before finally succumbing to sleep as well.

I learn quickly to try not to speak to Loki if I can help it because I only make him angry. I find as the months pass that my usual optimism and cheer is beginning to fade as Loki’s demeanor continues. I no longer find as much joy in the things I once did. Drinking, sparring, and hunting have lost their appeal, and I certainly learn better than to show up in our room drunk after doing it once. Even my appetite for women and men alike has vanished entirely, though I was always partial to women in the first place. My friends comment on my lack of enthusiasm for my previous pursuits, which I laugh off, but it sounds hollow even to myself. As the year wears on the stress starts to take a toll on me physically as well, so that shadows appear beneath my eyes that have never been there before, and I know my friends are beginning to worry.

I cannot for the life of me do anything right it seems. My exchanges with Loki are reduced to nothing but his insults and my apologies, and then he insults me even more for having my feelings hurt and causing him to feel it.

I feel like some parrot with only a few phrases:

“I am sorry Loki,” because I dog eared a page in a reference text.

“I did not mean to Loki,” because I tracked mud in.

“I will try not to let it happen again Loki,” because I left my armor on the floor near the wardrobe.

“It was not my intent Loki,” because I left Mjolnir on the floor of his side of the bed where he nearly tripped over her.

“I was not trying to be Loki,” because I was annoying him with my munching on a piece of fruit.

“I was not meaning to bother you Loki,” because my quill was scratching too loud.

All it ever comes down to is, “How can I fix it Loki?” and I have never in my life felt more unworthy of love nor wanted it so desperately.

Chapter Text

On a rare day I am in the room I happen to be looking over some maps spread out on the table of our outposts in Svartalfheim while sitting on the couch. Loki is reading, curled up in his chair when he suddenly says abruptly, “You have become more dull.”

I sigh and close my eyes for a brief moment, not even bothering to look at him, before replying, “I am sorry, but I do not know how to be any other way Loki.”

“No you idiot, your life force,” Loki snaps.

I look over at him and frown as I return, “I do not understand.”

Loki blows out a long breath, looking thoroughly exasperated, and explains, “Your life force is not as bright as it once was.”

“My life force feels bright to you?” I ask curiously.

Loki is giving me the ‘You can’t really be this stupid’ look before he rolls his eyes and replies, “No you moron, I just made it up.”

I’m not even offended because I find the information fascinating, so I merely shrug and return, “Yours does not feel bright to me, nor has it ever, so forgive my curiosity.”

Loki suddenly looks intrigued and asks, “What does it feel like then?”

I hesitate slightly and then answer, “Jagged and cold. It is like hugging a frost bitten rose bush wrapped in brambles with shards of glass stuck in it for good measure.”

Loki throws his head back and laughs, but it isn’t a bitter sound, and instead he’s actually amused. I feel a startling coil of warmth in my chest that isn’t mine. I realize after a moment that it’s Loki’s pleasure that I’m feeling as my own, and that in and of itself is a revelation all its own.

When Loki stops laughing I dare to inquire a little hesitantly, “What does mine feel like?

Loki looks at me shrewdly for a moment before replying, “Like hot iron, enough to burn. It is bright because it is polished enough to blind except it only continues to dull as of late.”

How interesting, I muse silently.

“What is that expression for?” Loki asks, more like demands.

I shrug and return to perusing my maps before replying, “Just thinking about the respective metaphorical armor we have chosen for ourselves, and how well suited they are for us both.”

Loki snorts and then queries, “Well if you are going to philosophize about our armor, as you put it, would you care to theorize why yours is dulling?”

I look over at him and sigh tiredly before intoning, “If you cannot figure that out for yourself then you are not half as clever as I give you credit for Loki.” Loki looks incensed, but I ignore him in favor of gathering my maps and taking my leave. 

Chapter Text

I knew better than to bait Loki like that and now I am paying the price, as he is more vicious than ever. The next couple of weeks are absolute Hel and I think I can say with certainty that I have never felt so bad in my life, not even when I was banished did I feel so hopeless and depressed. We’ve just hit month eleven of this arrangement, now that the snow is melting, and I wonder if it’s possible for me to just die from a combination of strain on the bond and my own depression and heartbreak.

The last couple days Loki has been awful, with him even trying to bait me into fights, so I’m really trying to stay out of his way. I’m woken in the middle of the night by Loki’s fitful tossing and I turn over to face him, since I tend to huddle on the near the edge of my side of our large bed to keep him from snapping at me.

“Loki?” I ask cautiously, seeing glowing red eyes and his features bathed in moonlight.

Loki does not look well, he’s panting, and though I can’t make out whether he’s flushed or not I do know his eyes don’t usually glow that crimson in the dark.

“Out,” Loki pants.

“What?” I ask confused.

“Get out!” Loki nearly shouts.

“Loki wha…” I start to ask, completely confused and a little hurt.

“Thor please,” Loki cuts in, but the desperation in his voice is clear.

I’m positive the word please has not come out of Loki’s mouth in my presence since he’s been back home, so I know he’s serious. Whatever is wrong with him he doesn’t want me here to try and fix it for him, and I know this is one thing I can do right at least in respecting his wishes, so I get up.

I grab a cloak and slip on some boots quickly, but I pause at the door and ask, “Eir?”

There’s a long pause and then a gritted out, “Yes.”

I rouse Eir without fuss and inform her of Loki’s condition, but she doesn’t seem surprised or alarmed and instead tells me to go sleep in a guest room and then find my mother in the morning. I find the suggestion a bit odd, but I do as she asks knowing Eir is perfectly suited to care for Loki if he is indeed ill.

It turns out Loki is not ill according to Mother and instead he’s in heat. I was not aware Jotnar even went into heat. Mother only shakes her head at me and gives me a book, telling me firmly to read it. Since I’m now banished to the guest room for the next week apparently, and since I have nothing to do at night now but wonder what in the nine is going on, I do.

Apparently there are a lot of things about Jotnar that I was not aware of at all, like they’re single sex. How could I not know this? Why did Loki never mention it? Then again why would he? No wonder he’s been so bent out of shape. Is he ashamed? I would imagine so. I had been thinking along the lines all this time that Father had intended for Loki to use his shape shifting to bear an heir like he did with Sleipnir, but it seems he doesn’t need to. I do know he cannot shift into his old Aesir skin anymore, something to do with Father’s seidr, but now it feels as if my world has shifted with this new revelation. Poor Loki has been dealing with this all on his own for the past some eleven months. I’ve been so absorbed in trying not to make him angry, and my own self pity, that I’ve never really given much consideration to how Loki has been coping with his new body, much less how he feels about it.

I’m ashamed of myself, and I know my concerns are not unfounded because I can feel the distress along the bond, even though the book describes most Jotnar to be impaired in their thinking when in heat. If anything Loki feels worse, and though there’s not the usual resistance, his jaggedness is greatly exacerbated to the point of being frayed. I spend much of the week shut in, too unsettled by Loki’s distress and too worried about him to be of any use to anyone at all. The one thing I can manage between reading is attempting to soothe Loki’s frazzled state during the sporadic times I can tell he’s managed to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

When Mother comes and finds me the morning of the eighth day to tell me Loki is fit for company again I decide to wait until the evening to give him some time to resettle himself before invading our room again.

I open the door cautiously and find Loki curled up in his chair with a drink and a fur blanket just staring at the fire. I shut the door and walk over to the couch, perching on it a bit hesitantly before inquiring quietly, “Are you feeling better?”

Loki’s crimson gaze slides over to meet mine, and though I can’t tell physically like I can with myself simply his stature and the way he’s holding himself makes him look so very weary. He sets his drink on the small table next to him before replying, “Yes,” and then there’s a very long poignant pause before he adds, “Thank you.”

The words sound like he has to force them from his chest, and I know good and well just what he’s thanking me for.

Loki returns to his fire gazing, and I watch him for a few minutes before daring to ask, “Do you hate it?”

Loki looks back over at me, and it says a lot about how tired he is that he doesn’t even bother to insult me and only sighs instead before asking for clarification instead, “Hate what Thor?”

I swallow before replying quietly, “Hate wearing the skin you were always meant to.”

Loki looks away quickly, and I’m completely taken by surprise by the sharp pain that runs jaggedly through my chest causing me to inhale sharply.

The correlation that what I said caused Loki pain only begins to dawn on me when he returns in a voice laden with bitterness, “How could I not when I am forced to look at the monster I really am in the mirror everyday?”

I frown and say, “How could you dare to say such a thing? You are not a monster Loki.”

Loki looks at me and smiles, and though it’s meant to be wicked it simply looks brittle instead, as he replies in a cutting tone, “How could I dare when it is something I know? How could you lie to my face when you pride yourself on your honesty? I am no fool Thor and you are the most tactile person I have ever met, yet even you will not touch me. I hardly need any more clues to know how truly repulsive you find me to be. Do not insult me by trying to claim otherwise.”

Oh Norns, I’ve made a mess of things again. Why does Loki have to twist every good intention I have into something else? It doesn’t matter, I’m going to fix it now.

I get up and take two strides over to Loki grabbing his hand and jerking him to stand. I completely ignore his squawk of, “Thor unhand me this instant!” in favor of pulling him into a crushing hug.

Loki tries to push me off and demands, “Thor let me…” “Loki be silent,” I interrupt in my no nonsense God of Thunder tone. Loki falls quiet but is no less stiff in the embrace.

“You are an idiot, and I am a fool,” I rumble into his neck before pulling back slightly to look at him.

Loki looks peeved to be sure, and I reach up to touch his cheek, which he tries to shy away from. “Stop,” I order gruffly, and Loki purses his lips but lets me touch his lined cheek.

“Has it ever crossed your mind that if you beat a dog enough times it will stay down?” I ask softly.

Loki just frowns at me and looks like he’s about to open his mouth, but I beat him to it continuing with, “I am sorry Loki. All I ever wanted was to make this easier on you, it just seems I can never do it right. I try not to speak to you because I only ever end up making you angry on accident. I do not come to our room because I do not want to invade your space. I try so very hard to remember all of the things you have reprimanded me for in the past, but it is a very long list at this point. Most of all I do not touch you because your tongue has lashed me back into a corner where I would not dare, it hardly means I do not want to. I have only been trying to avoid stepping on your toes, since the only impression you have ever given me about this situation is that you abhor it, but I miss you more than you know and I am sorry for not having said so sooner.”

I hug Loki close again, and after a minute his long slender arms coil around my neck, making me smile.

A few moments later Loki says, “I still hate you, you moron.”

I beam happily and reply, “I love you too Loki.”

Loki snorts, but there’s no denying the small coil of pleasure in my chest.

A minute passes before Loki remarks, “You are bright again,” and I know everything is going to be alright.

That night when we go to bed I take Loki’s hand in my own, and though he simply rolls his eyes at my sentimentality it is the first time that I feel the bond relax while Loki is still awake and lucid, so I count it as a victory.

Chapter Text

Year Two

I take to hugging Loki in the morning before I leave, and hugging him at least once at night. Even though Loki protests bitterly he can’t hide from me anymore, and I know some part of him has to like it since I can feel it. I always make sure some part of me is touching him when I go to sleep, though I’m never foolish enough to try and hold onto him, and I can feel Loki’s hard edges start to soften some in response to the treatment over the course of the next several months. More than that Loki doesn’t pull so hard at the bond anymore, which is a relief to be sure. He’s still a contrary thing and insults me constantly, but now that we’ve resettled into something closer to our relationship of our days of old, and something perhaps even a bit more intimate, they simply roll off me, because now it is easier for me to tell when Loki is truly annoyed and when he is bitching at me just because he can.

I make sure to tell Loki more often now that I love him, but I think it’s the contact that he connects with strangely enough. I’ve never really considered how touch starved Loki was in the first place, since he was right in his assessment of me being a physical person, but Loki himself is a loner. Now that Loki wears his Jotun skin all the time I think the only people he talks to with any regularity are Mother, Eir, myself, and his son Sleipnir, and even though Sleipnir is technically a horse I suppose he still counts since can understand Loki just fine.

Even though Loki is more comfortable with me now I feel as if we are at an impasse, and I’m not sure where to go from here. I don’t often think of Loki as my brother anymore, which is strange because all the memories I have of him are colored with brotherly fondness, but the Jotun I know as Loki now seems to be simultaneously the same person and someone else entirely. I do not necessarily want Loki, but the idea is not nearly as far of a stretch as it once was. It certainly isn’t as shocking an idea as it was, nor am I repulsed by the concept. If anything I’m a bit curious. Loki is simply so exotic looking now, and I find myself resisting the urge to trace his clan lines when I hold his hand, or examine his black nails that shine and look as hard as diamond.

Loki has been letting his hair grow since being forced to wear his true skin and now it reaches the bottom of his shoulder blades, but I find I like the look on him. In his Aesir skin Loki was always just a shade too ‘pretty’ to really be considered masculine even amongst the Vanir, and far too much so amongst the Aesir, his frame too slender despite his height and shoulders not broad enough for a man. It was the source of much teasing in our youth and many whispers in our adulthood, calling his manhood into question behind his back rather than to his face, which was all the worse. Now I suppose it makes sense, since Loki was really meant to be both, but I disagree with those that would say it makes Loki less of a man. I think Loki simply has room for both. He has always been a shifter, having the gift of possessing many qualities rather than a select few. I think his new form embodies that more than ever, and I think it only adds to his beauty. I like how he is both beautiful and dangerous, sharp lines and whipcord sinew hiding a deceptively powerful frame, combined with equally sharp elegant features that are only accentuated by his clan lines. Loki is a sight to behold now. I only wish he could see himself as I do.

Chapter Text

I’m staring again, as I oft tend to do now. Loki stares at the fire and I stare at Loki, when we are not reading or drinking. I tend to stare at him without really seeing him, as I simply mull over our situation with a drink. 

“Must you keep doing that?” Loki snaps tartly.

“Hmm?” I ask distractedly, as I refocus on him.

Loki looks up from his book looking cross and replies, “Staring, you are always staring at me lately. What in the nine is so fascinating?”

I have the decency to look a bit abashed, but I still offer, “I find you interesting, is that a crime?”

Loki pulls a face and returns drolly, “I am the exact same as I was yesterday, and the day before that, and even the day before that, yet you still stare at me. You were not doing this before, why are you doing it now?”

I shrug and reply, “Before I was trying not to make you angry. I will try to stop if you dislike it so much. I simply like looking at you, you are rather a marvel to look at now.”

Loki frowns and asks a bit testily, “What is that supposed to mean exactly?”

I smile slightly and answer, “I like you this way is all. This skin suits you in a way your Aesir one did not. I think it is because it is the one you were always meant to have.”

Loki looks most displeased, and I feel a shadow of pain echo though my chest before he deadpans, “You mean you like me as the freak of all of Asgard.”

I scowl and rebuke loudly, “You are not a freak Loki. I do not and have never thought such a thing, nor should you.” I take a breath and intone in a much calmer voice, “You are beautiful Loki, I wish you could see yourself as I do.”

Loki looks at me for a long moment with a frown on his face then says, “I am disturbed that I cannot tell if you are being serious or not.”

I huff in frustration but reply, “You are Loki. You are so very different and unlike anyone or anything I have ever known. Like this, as you are meant to be, I think you look exotic and dangerous. As an Aesir you were always too pretty to be just a man, but everyone took that to mean you were less than that, which was foolish of them. I think this skin makes you look every bit of the dangerous adversary I know you can be while balancing it with your natural grace, elegance, and poise. It is a unique combination. You are unique Loki.”

Loki blinks, then says, “Different is not always a good thing.”

I smile and reply, “Normal is boring Loki. I could have found that easy enough a long time ago.”

Loki stares at me for a moment before turning his attention to his book, but there’s definitely a smile tugging at his lips, and there’s no denying the warmth in my chest.

Besides he doesn’t complain about my staring for the rest of the night.

It’s also the first night Loki offers me his hand first in bed rather than me having to reach for it. I hold it between my own like a priceless treasure because it is.

Chapter Text

Beginning of August, Year Two

We have a bit of a heat wave a few weeks later at the very tail end of summer. I walk into our room after a long afternoon of training, that went well into the evening, to find Loki slumped on the couch looking quite miserable as he fans himself with one hand.

“Loki are you ill?” I ask worriedly.

“Just hot, miserably hot, in this Tree forsaken weather we are having,” Loki sighs.

I start peeling off my sweaty armor, since even if Loki is ridiculously modest still I certainly have no such qualms, asking as I do, “Can you not just enchant the room to make it cooler, so you more comfortable?”

I can hear Loki’s surprise when he says, “You would let me?”

My, “Verily,” is a bit lost in my undershirt as I shuck it over my head, then add as an afterthought, “Just try not to make it an icebox please.”

I finish shedding my clothes and dump them in the laundry before grabbing my sleepwear and turn to make my way to the bath, but I find Loki is still giving me a rather surprised look. I smile and supply, “I would not want to deny you comfort Loki if I can help it. I do not mind sleeping with an extra fur if you are that bothered by heat,” and with that I take my leave.

When I’m finished, and open the door, I feel the chill of the room rush over me. Oh my, he certainly did drop the temperature by quite a bit. It’s not winter cold, and not even close to Jotunheim cold, but it’s a bit of a shock still having spent all afternoon in the sweltering heat and then having had a hot bath.

“Too cold?” comes Loki’s query from the vicinity of the bed.

I look over and find him curled up in the bed with his book, looking far more comfortable than only thirty minutes ago.

I smile and shake my head replying, “A bit crisp, but I am fine,” as I walk over and climb into the large bed.

I’m in the process of lying down when Loki suddenly says, “It is not that I do not like heat in general, it is climate temperature that bothers me mostly.”

I look up at the Jotun in confusion, and then make the connection enough to ask, “Is that why you like the fire still then? Because its warmth does not bother you?”  

Loki nods as he sets his book aside, murmuring while he isn’t looking at me, “And yours as well. The cooler the temperature the better isolated warmth feels.”

“You like how warm I am?” I can’t help but ask, grinning like a fool.

Loki extinguishes the candle before I can get a good look at his face, as he mutters, “Shut up Thor.” He lies down alongside me facing away, but I can just hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“Are you blushing Loki?” I tease.

“Shut up Thor,” Loki grates out.

I don’t care anymore. I reach out and grab him, pulling him back against me, and completely ignore his indignant noise.

“Thor…” Loki begins to protest. “Hush,” I rumble, getting a firm grip on his waist and pulling him even closer.

“If you like the warmth then just let me hold you. I have missed this for so long Loki, so let us both enjoy it,” I reason quietly against the nape of his neck.

Loki is stiff for a few heartbeats before he finally relaxes with a sigh, and though he says nothing I feel his slender fingers thread with mine to rest near his heart a few minutes later, making me smile. The best part is feeling contentment thrum through the bond for us both simultaneously for the first time, creating a sense of harmony I’ve yet to experience before. It’s beautiful.

And if the next night Loki slips into bed facing away again and lets me draw him close once more without a peep of protest, well then, I’m certainly not going to complain about it. Thrilled to pieces doesn’t really begin to describe my mood, and Loki it seems is not completely unaffected by my happiness either, since I feel his tingles of pleasure until I fall asleep.

Chapter Text

End of August, Year Two

I love having Loki close, I thrive on it. My brightness becomes brilliance within the span of a couple of weeks, enough that my friends comment on it and Mother smiles knowingly. Loki only rolls his eyes at me, but the smile that tugs at his lips belies his feelings on the matter, and truly he has made greater steps towards change in my opinion. Loki’s winter’s bite is still all there, but I feel as if his thorns are dulling considerably and the tightly wound bush around his heart is beginning to loosen, which says a lot about someone like Loki.

So when Father sends me on what I deem to be a useless trip to Svartalfheim to check on a few of our outposts I am in a most sour mood to be sure, even if I’m accompanied by Sif and the Warrior’s Three. I have had a handful of days away from Loki here and there to go on hunts and what have you, but the two weeks I’m separated from him are hard on me. For the first time though I feel Loki reach out through the bond to try and soothe my anger and distress. Even if it is weak with the distance between us, all that matters to me is that Loki would even try in the first place.

On returning home I do not even bother to report anything to Father and make my way as fast as possible to my room with Loki instead, knowing it’s a fair bet I’ll find him there. Loki startles off his chair when I nearly slam the door open, but he still lets me pull him into a crushing embrace.

“Must you be so overdramatic?” Loki sighs, then asks in his usual snippy tone as he combs his fingers through my tangled hair, “When was the last time you bathed?”

I huff a laugh into his neck and mumble, “I do not care at the moment.”

“You are so possessive,” Loki mutters, sounding peeved.

I shake my head against his neck before replying roughly, “It is that I am not complete without you, and I do not like it when I cannot be near you.”

I pull back and press my forehead to his as I rumble, “You are not a possession to be had Loki. You are my other half.”

Burning crimson regards me for a moment before I feel Loki’s long tricky fingers slide from my hair to cup my decidedly scruffy cheeks, the pads of his cool thumbs smoothing over my cheekbones. Those crimson eyes are hidden from view as Loki breathes out a cold sigh against my face before murmuring, “Alright Thor,” and then I feel the faintest brush of his cool petal soft lips against mine.

I let Loki pull away more because I’m still in shock, and he seems to have snapped out of his sentimental moment because he points at the bathroom and commands, “Bathe now, you reek.”

As soon as my thoughts seem to come back to me I glow with happiness only tossing a, “Love you Loki!” over my shoulder as I speed to do as he asks.

“Bathe!” Loki orders.

Chapter Text

When I’m finished and dressed again I can only offer Loki a parting goodbye. I still have to finish my report for Father, something I hardly look forward to. Our relationship has been strained at best since Loki’s sentencing, and I doubt I will ever see him the same way again. At the same time part of me adamantly says if not for everything happening the way it did I think my relationship with Loki would still be in tatters, and now what we have is the very thing I prize most.

I try to finish up quickly with Father, but just as I am nearly out the door he inquires, “How is Loki?”

Father has never asked after Loki before, and Loki has made himself scarce in most of the palace except when he has to show his face at feasts and such to avoid Father as much as possible.

“Why do you care?” I nearly growl.

“Watch your tone Thor, it was merely a question,” Father warns.

“He is faring as well as can be expected,” I manage as levelly as possible.

“You seem to be doing better from what little your mother tells me,” Father remarks.

I sigh heavily and reply, “I am trying Father, we are trying. I cannot say if it will be enough yet. May I go now?”

Father regards me shrewdly for a long moment before nodding, and I suddenly want to see Loki more than ever again, if only to be reassured.

I may throw the door to our room closed a bit harder than necessary, and my mood is not much improved to not see Loki, but I dismiss it and begin stripping off my armor in favor of donning sleepwear.

“What in the nine are you banging about like that for?” a voice asks behind me.

I turn slightly and see Loki standing in the doorway to the bathroom with his toothbrush in his mouth, wet hair, and freshly donned sleep clothes, looking rather cross.

“Father’s inquiries,” I mutter turning my attention back to changing.

Loki snorts and replies, “Different is it not when you no longer believe him to be the pinnacle of wisdom and diplomacy?”

“Meddlesome old man with his pointless questions,” I grumble mutinously as I kick off my boots a bit viciously.

“My he did irritate you,” Loki remarks with a dark chuckle before going back into the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste presumably.

I finish changing and trudge into the bathroom as well, since Loki left the door open, and I find him sitting at the vanity tugging the tangles out of his hair with a comb now that he has spelled it dry. I brush my teeth swiftly and wash my face before leaning against the counter to watch him.

Loki glances at me in the mirror and raises an eyebrow in silent query so I ask softly, “Why do you keep it long now?”

Loki shrugs his slender shoulders and replies, “I have always preferred long hair, but it was never appropriate before. It seems to fit with this skin better now anyways.”

“I like it, and you are right, it does suit you,” I murmur softly.

Loki ducks his head slightly, and a light purple flush dusts his cheeks attractively, making me smile gently.

I touch his shoulder lightly causing him to look up at me. I offer him my open hand as I ask, “May I?”

Loki doesn’t hesitate to give me the comb, and I marvel that his flush doesn’t go away in the slightest as I step behind him and begin to gently comb his hair. 

I spend a few minutes just combing his hair before abandoning the comb and using my fingers instead to comb through it ever so carefully. Loki relaxes considerably under my hands, seeming to enjoy the attention. When I’m done I braid it for him in his usual style, as I’m familiar with several, having changed the way I tie my own hair back more than a few times over the centuries. When I’m finished I take the leather thong from him to tie it off at the end.

When I look at Loki in the mirror he looks drowsy, causing me to frown slightly and trace my hand down his arm to grasp his own slender one. I tug him to stand as I intone, “To bed with you, you look tired.”

Loki follows me without protest, and only murmurs instead as he extinguishes the candles with a wave of his hand, “I could not sleep well.”

I usher him into the bed and cover him before climbing in myself and pulling him close to murmur against his ear, “I did not sleep well without you either.”

Loki snuggles back into my embrace, so I kiss his shoulder and pull him closer, as I rumble soothingly, “Sleep Loki, I am here.”

A soft sleepy purr is my only response from the Jotun, the first I have ever heard from him. I have wondered more than once since reading that book if Loki is even capable of purring, since he isn’t really your typical Jotnar, but he’s just proven he can. I feel a new level of contentment knowing Loki is truly relaxed and happy to be purring as he is now, and I fall into the easiest sleep I’ve had in a long, long time.

Chapter Text

September – November, Year Two

Combing Loki’s hair becomes a nightly ritual for us, and I love it. I think Loki does too, if his soft purrs are anything to go by. I can tell Loki is becoming more comfortable around me physically just by the way he lets me touch him now. It was different when he let me hold him to sleep because we were unconscious and the lights were out, but now when I comb his hair I make a conscious effort to smooth my hands over his shoulders and neck occasionally just to familiarize him with touch again. I haven’t quite dared to kiss Loki on the mouth again but I do kiss his shoulder every night and he hardly seems to mind, purring softly as he drifts off in my arms.

November, Year Two

Loki looks happier as winter finally settles upon Asgard and I think it makes him feel good in a way the enchanted temperature of our room cannot. The first day we have snow I find Loki looking wistfully outside rather than reading his book.

It’s still early evening so I ask, “Would you like to go on a walk Loki?”

Loki looks at me in surprise, but recovers quickly and nods moving from his chair to pull on some shoes.

He comes to stop in front of me and I ask a little worriedly, “You need nothing else?”

Loki smiles slightly and shakes his head slipping his hand into mine so I nod in acknowledgement and we depart from the room hand in hand.

Mother’s private gardens are enchanted by Loki to stay in bloom year round despite the weather and it’s a place of many memories for us both, mostly good ones.

“Can you feel the cold?” I ask curiously after a few minutes of strolling along.

“Not like you. I can determine cold temperatures to an extent, but it would need to be far colder than this for me to do so, so on Jotunheim I would be able to. Even there the cold would not bother me for I am made to weather it the same way you can tolerate a heat wave here,” Loki replies.

Loki stops causing me to stop with him and he slips his hand from my grip to bend down and cup a handful of snow between his hands before standing again. I notice it isn’t melting before he says, “Right now it simply feels normal outside, but I marvel the most at snow because it is not cold anymore and rather it just feels… soft.”

I chuckle causing Loki to look at me so I reply teasingly, “I suppose that means I can no longer sneak up on you and dump snow down the back of your tunic if it will not melt.”

Loki scowls but can’t hold the expression before he chuckles as well and dusts the snow off his hands as he remarks, “You are so juvenile Thor.”

I take his hand and we continue walking as I reply, “You would not know what to do with yourself if I was not around.”

“Mmm,” Loki hums noncommittally, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips.

We trek the winding paths of Mother’s garden, that Loki has lit with his green seidr in the wake of the quickly fading light, at a leisurely pace, and I enjoy the comfortable silence that stretches between us. Eventually we come to a stop at the end of the gardens where they overlook the city and the Bifrost, the twinkling lights fanning out to indicate each home and I think it looks beautiful, but the image is only made complete with Loki standing here at my side.

“Do you look forward to when it will be all yours?” Loki asks softly from beside me.

The question startles me, firstly because I’ve hardly given any real thought to it in a long while, since the end of my banishment really and Loki fell from the Bifrost, and secondly because of what he implies with his words. That of course being that he’s really going to follow trough with Father’s demands.

“No, not like I once did,” I reply truthfully.

Pain lances sharply through my chest and I barely suppress the urge to flinch.

“Because of me,” Loki murmurs, and it sounds like a question and a statement of fact at the same time.

I look at Loki and find him looking at his feet, trying so very hard not to look as distressed as I think he’s feeling.

I let go of his hand and Loki closes his eyes staying where he is. I step close to him and wind an arm around his slender waist to pull him into me while cupping his lined cheek with my large right hand.

Loki gasps quietly and opens his softly glowing crimson eyes to look at me.

I look at him earnestly for a moment before intoning, “Exactly because of you Loki. Nothing else mattered after you fell. I wanted no part of a world that did not have you in it and I want no part of a throne that does not include having you at my side. My world was greyer without you and now that I have you back I will never make the mistake again of putting anything before you. I love you Loki, throne or no, and nothing will ever change that.”

Loki’s eyes shine with what look suspiciously like tears, but I only lean close and nuzzle him gently before pressing our lips together. Loki makes a soft whimpering noise of distress, and I feel the icy coldness of his tears against my cheeks before his slender arms wrap around my neck, and he relaxes against me.

I stroke his cheek gently with my thumb as I pull away, shushing him when he makes another distressed noise.

“No tears Loki,” I rumble as I kiss his tears away lovingly before capturing his lips again in a firmer kiss, this one with more intent and heat behind it.

Loki just… melts, is the best description I can think of, opening his mouth and letting me take it all from him. His mouth is just as cool as his lips, but he tastes like winter and peppermint and snow and all around amazing.

I love kissing Loki. I love the way he tastes, I love the way his mouth fits against mine, I love how he yields and yet meets me for the kiss at the same time. I love it all, more than anything I think I just love that it’s Loki. Perhaps Mother was right, I think, no one was ever good enough not because they weren’t as interesting as Loki, but because they weren’t Loki. It’s a strange thing to think that maybe we were always meant to be here after all, but I cannot deny how perfectly right it feels in my heart. The bond between us positively sings with contentment and pleasure as if to only emphasize just how right it is.

When I finally pull away I still stay close enough so we’re breathing the same air, and I realize Loki is purring softly making me smile.

“I love you,” I murmur roughly, brushing my lips lightly against his again in reassurance.

Loki presses his lined forehead to mine and I can feel his chilled breath across my face as he replies softly, “I know.”

Chapter Text

November – February, Year Two

I take it slow with Loki, kissing him often and just about everywhere he decides to show skin isn’t safe from me. Sometimes Loki scoffs at my sentimentality but he never turns me away, and that small smile that tugs at the edge of his lips is never absent either. Loki doesn’t initiate kisses, but in the mornings before I leave and in the evenings when I come back he’s always more than accommodating, tilting his head back as he sits in his chair near the fireplace, exposing his long neck to let me capture him in a real kiss. One full of heat and love, and besides I like leaving him a bit breathless.

I don’t go beyond kissing Loki though, and I stay to his shoulders and above, occasionally his hands too since I find his long fingers too tempting sometimes, but I don’t push for anything beyond that. As much as Loki may accuse me of being dim I can recognize a boundary when I see one, and I don’t want to ruin the progress Loki and I have made pushing too far by going too fast.

There are things I just know better than to do, like touch his horns for instance, and I won’t until he invites me to. I actually learned about that one from the book Mother lent me, and I’m grateful I read about it before I did something foolish, like trying to touch them before being cautioned against it. Apparently touching another Jotun’s horns is not only extremely rude, it’s also only something meant to be done between mates, and is considered a very intimate act. I know Loki isn’t really your run of the Bifrost Jotun, but that still doesn’t mean I shouldn’t afford him the same courtesies as if he were always one and had been brought up as one. I am a bit curious as to what it feels like for him, both to have them and what it feels like if they’re touched.

I also know better than to try and touch Loki’s skin anywhere other than his neck and up, and also his hands. I’m not sure why Loki is still so determined to stay covered up all the time, but I’d venture a guess that he’s still ashamed. Though it’s just wishful thinking, I wish he’d give me the chance to worship him properly, trace those clan lines and see just how far they go. I wish he would let me prove to him that I love all of him and he has nothing to be ashamed of, but for now I settle for trying to show him my love in every way he’ll let me, and I have to be content with that.

As the snow just begins to melt Loki’s behavior becomes strange within the span of a week, oscillating wildly between his vicious barbs with his lashing tongue and alternately clinging to me at night with a death grip. His life force too, that had continued to soften into something much less thorny, returns back to its tangled and barbed state, and it isn’t lost on me what time of year it is. According to the book Mother gave me, trying to get a Jotun pregnant outside of their heat is pretty much a useless endeavor, it can happen, but it’s very rare. I know Loki isn’t anywhere close to ready this year anyways, so I’m not too concerned once I finally understand that his behavior is just a byproduct of his heat cycle making him moody. I only wish I could make this easier for him, but alas all I can do is try not to step on his toes or irritate him anymore than usual.

After Disting February 2, End of Year Two

For some reason I am awoken in the middle of the night, and I realize Loki is not in my arms causing me to sit up quickly in alarm. I find him easily enough sitting on the edge of our bed with his face in his hands, illuminated by the moon shining through our window. I slip from our bed cautiously and pad around it coming to stand in front of him, but I don’t touch him since I’m not sure if he’s in heat yet.

“Loki are you alright?” I query softly.

Loki rubs his face before peering at me and replies, “It is not unbearable yet, but it is close.”

“Tell me what you want me to do Loki and I will,” I murmur gently, trying to placate the Jotun, and not stress him out anymore than he obviously already is.

Pain unexpectedly lances through my chest, making me wince slightly, but Loki only stares at his feet for a long moment before he whispers, “I am not ready to be your whore… not yet.”

The pain only increases to rake jaggedly across my heart as Loki looks up at me, crystalline tears starting to tumble down his cheeks.

Loki reaches up and uses gentle fingertips to trace my lips as he whispers, “Please let me pretend just… just a little longer, that you are mine. Just one more year, and then… then you will be free once more I promise.”

Loki’s smile is brittle and broken and utterly burned into my mind’s eye when he disappears abruptly, having teleported away, and all that I’m left with is the agonizing pain in my heart.  

Chapter Text

Waiting out the week is nothing short of awful, not to mention the panic attack I had at Loki’s sudden disappearance at the beginning. Apparently he’s decided to take up residence in one of the guest chambers, even though I would have gladly left so he could have been comfortable here, and the only way I find out where he is in the first place is through Eir.

I just… wish I could talk to him… say something, anything, rather than have what he said to me as the last thing left between us, even though I know he’s hardly fit to speak to me. I don’t understand what he meant at all. Why would he call himself a whore? Does he honestly think I would treat him like one? That that’s all he would be to me? The very thought tears at my heart in the worst way. I would never treat Loki like he was anything less than the love of my life. How could Loki think that I’m anything less than his? I don’t know what I’ve said or done to give him that impression, but it’s something I plan to remedy as soon as I see him again. I’m under the impression Loki may have said those things to me in an upward swing of his moodiness caused by his heat cycle, but the pain I felt through the bond was very real, meaning the words were in tune with his true feelings, which is the most unsettling thing about all of this.

Loki doesn’t return for eight full days, and I’m nearly beside myself with worry by the time the door to our quarters glides open, making a soft noise in the late evening of the eighth day.

Loki looks haggard and tired, dressed in navy and black leisurewear, while wisps of his inky hair curl around his face having escaped his braid.

I’m off the couch instantly, not even giving Loki a moment to protest before I’m gathering him in a careful but loving embrace, as I’m mindful that he’s probably quite sore and achy at the moment.

Loki is tense for a long moment before he relaxes into my embrace and winds his arms around my neck, tucking his face against it.

“I missed you,” I rumble, feeling so much better just to have the solidity of Loki back in my arms once more.

Pain and pleasure twist sharply through my chest simultaneously in response, and there’s a beat of silence before Loki whispers, “I missed you too.”

I want to ask Loki so many things, and get answers to my rather pressing questions, but right now he’s exhausted and he doesn’t need and inquisition. Instead I stroke his hair for a couple minutes before murmuring as I pull away, “Come to bed you must be tired.”

Loki only glances up at me furtively before nodding sedately and moving to step out of my embrace, but I keep a firm hold on his slender waist to keep him from going anywhere.

Loki looks up at me again and his expression is hesitant, which is an expression and emotion that I don’t even associate with the Loki I know.

I reach up and gently cup his cheek, tracing the pad of my thumb over his clan lines, before leaning down slightly and capturing his lips in a tender kiss. Loki makes a soft noise, whether it’s one of encouragement or not I’m not sure, but he doesn’t push me away, rather he practically clings to me, so I would venture to say the gesture isn’t unwelcome.

I release Loki from the kiss and murmur, “Go put on something for bed.”

Loki nods and lets me press a kiss to his forehead before he slips from my grip to go get some sleep clothes and then pads into the bathroom to change.

I change as well before making my way around the room and extinguishing the candles, and when Loki exits the bathroom I make a quick trip to brush my teeth before bed.

Loki is lying in bed when I exit the bathroom looking awfully small for his tall slender frame.

I slip into the bed next to him and watch the Jotun curl in on himself as he faces away from me.

I gather him to me gently as I murmur, “Come here Loki.”

Loki lets out a shuddering breath, but I can hear the wetness of tears and feel his agonizing pain in my heart.

“Tell me what pains you so,” I rumble against the back of his neck, kissing it lovingly.

“It hurts Thor. This, all of this,” Loki chokes out.

“Why?” he begs in a voice choked with tears, “Why are you so determined to give me everything I could ever want when I know what I am? When I know what this is? Do you think you are doing me a kindness by trying to be faithful and loving to your broodmare, to your whore, before you are done with me? Because I can assure you you are not. You are breaking me Thor and it hurts, it hurts so much,” his voice breaking on a sharp sob.

I’m horrified and so greatly saddened by Loki’s words, and I don’t know how to fix it. What can I possibly say to assure Loki of my intentions? Honestly I’m not sure there’s much I can say, but what I do know is that Loki isn’t really in any condition to listen to me and actually hear anything I say that the moment. So instead I gently roll Loki over to face me and tenderly wipe away his tears.

“You are not a whore or a broodmare Loki. I do not know what I have done or said to give you the impression that I think such a thing, but I am truly sorry for having done so. There are so many things I want to say, even more that I want to show you, but I can tell you are exhausted and we can discuss this in the morning,” I intone firmly.

Loki still looks distressed so I add in a much softer tone as I stroke his cheek, “All that matters is that you know I love you. Try to stop fretting just for a while, I am not going anywhere by my own will I promise.”

Loki stares at me with his big crimson eyes, and a couple more tears tumble down his cheeks, but he nods nonetheless, letting me wipe them away gently. I dip down and kiss him chastely before drawing him close and letting him bury his face against my broad chest. I stroke the nape of his neck and kiss the crown of his head as I murmur, “Just sleep Loki.”

I find no comfort in the silence that follows me into slumber, the absence of Loki’s purr making it difficult to for peaceful sleep to find me.

Chapter Text

In the morning I wake to find Loki still curled in my embrace, an actual first for me as he is the early riser of us both, always accusing me of being a lazy oaf. I glance at the door and see that a servant has brought breakfast, so I gently extricate myself from Loki’s embrace and make use of the bathroom, as well as wash my face, before retrieving it and setting it on the bedside table.

“Loki, wake up, it is time for breakfast,” I prompt quietly, as I shake his shoulder gently.

Loki wakes and looks at me blearily, rubbing his eyes adorably as he sits up and stretches. “Mmm?” he asks.

“Breakfast,” I reply as I set the tray in his lap.

Loki looks at his plate and flushes a dark purple making me roll my eyes and instruct, “Loki just eat it, I do not know why you get like this still.”

I go retrieve my tray and climb into bed as well before tucking in, leaving Loki to his meal.

I do not know why he gets like this, as I’m more worried about trying to use the manners he’s so adamant about me employing than worrying about what he’s eating, not that I care in the first place.

Loki tried for a while to stick to a regular Aesir diet, but after I figured out he was getting sick in the morning after breakfast, which has a lot of breads and fruits, and Loki used to love. I cornered him about it and after much hissing and spitting at me he told me that the food was not agreeing with him. At first Loki made do with cooked meats, and he can eat that just fine, but once I read that book on Jotnar, and we were on better speaking terms, I asked him if he thought he would prefer his meats raw like most Jotnar did. We had a row about that and Loki accused me of thinking that I thought he was primitive like them, and I of course shouted back that that hardly had anything to do with it. What did diet have anything to do with the advancement of a race? Loki has always puzzled me in ways that make my head hurt. Regardless I finally forced a raw cut on him and of course he fell in love, but he’s still embarrassed about it. Why this is I have no idea, I think he is being perfectly ridiculous about the whole thing.

Loki is probably the only person I know that can make eating look delicate, rolling the thin raw slices up with his long slender fingers and then wrapping that sensual mouth around the small bite. Oh Norns I really shouldn’t stare, he really is too pretty for his own good.

“Must you? I am trying to eat,” Loki snaps.

I flush and look down at my plate mumbling, “Sorry,” as I try to concentrate on my own eating.

I’m still finishing my rather large spread when Loki sets his tray aside and slips from the bed, going over to the wardrobe and retrieving day clothes before padding to the bathroom.

Loki pauses on his way, since it passes my side of the bed, and turns to me to murmur stiltedly, “I… apologize… for my behavior last night, it was most unbecoming of me, and we need never bring it up again.” With that Loki turns and nearly flees into the bathroom, shutting the door quickly behind him.

I blink and stare at the door for a few moments before his words really register with me, and I growl in annoyance. Typical Loki thinking he can slither his way out of a confrontation, but not this time.

I go and set our trays by the door and then simply wait by the bathroom door, listening to the sounds and waiting until I’m sure Loki is in the bath.

I try the door and find it unlocked. My Loki has grown confident in his training of me, that or he’s distracted, probably the latter.

Loki gasps, clapping his hands over his chest like a maiden as he spins around in the bath, bubbles and wet inky hair swirling around him dramatically as he screeches, “Thor what are you doing!?”

I close the door nonchalantly behind me and stride confidently to the side of the bath, intoning as I begin unbuttoning my top, “We are having this discussion and I plan on having your full attention. There is more than enough room for two in the bath, and this way you cannot escape so easily.”

Loki flushes a dark purple and looks absolutely furious as he splutters, “Thor you cannot just… just… flounce in here and invite yourself into my bath!”

I chuckle and slip my sleep pants off, watching Loki blush even harder as he looks away while I climb in the bath, replying as I do, “I am fairly sure I have never flounced anywhere in my life, but I suppose I am imposing on you bath.”

“Thor must we really do this here?” Loki hisses, looking anywhere but at me, and definitely somewhere between supremely embarrassed and very, very pissed.

“Yes,” I reply firmly before reaching out and setting gentle hands on his slender shoulders, causing him to jump in surprise and look at me sharply.

I dare to venture a little closer, and let my right hand slide upwards to cup the side of his neck so I can run my thumb along the line of his jaw, before asking earnestly, “Where did you get these ideas Loki? That you are a whore or a broodmare? Have I said something to make you think that I thought such a thing of you?”

Loki breathes out a long sigh and then chuckles in a self depreciating way, even as he uses his gentle hands to caress my chest with the barest of touches. He only holds my gaze for a moment before dropping it to my chest to reply cynically, “They are not ideas Thor, they are facts. Odin merely means to teach you a lesson and keep me underfoot with an heir, but he hardly plans for anything to come of this aside from that, and I know this. You will breed me as you are meant to and then this mess with me will finally be done. You will then take the throne, of course, before taking a real wife, one that can give you Aesir heirs, and my child and I will be a long forgotten bad memory as we are meant to be, tucked into some corner of the palace or set up in a cabin in the woods just beyond Asgard’s walls, out of sight and out of mind.”

Loki sounds so bitter as he adds, “I am nothing more than the black stain on your perfect golden record just as I always have been.”

Loki looks up at me and the smile that twists his lips is so pained and sad as he says softly, “Besides you cannot tell me this is what you really wanted for yourself. I was there too, I saw how horrified you were, and why would you not be at the prospect of being forced to bed your once brother and a monster, especially when you could have anyone?”

Loki swallows and looks down again, a long heavy pause spanning the silence before he whispers, “I wish… I wish you would stop this though, it is difficult enough as it is knowing you will be gone soon enough.”

“Stop what Loki?” I ask softly, using my thumb to tilt his jaw up so his gaze meets mine.

A tear slips down Loki’s cheek before he whispers softly, “Stop loving me like I had always wished you would, like I knew you once did when we were young.”

Pain, both mine and Loki’s twists sharply through my chest, and I feel so sad to know I’ve done this.

I feel a tear slip down my own cheek as I wipe Loki’s away, and watch his crimson eyes widen a bit in surprise.

“How did we get here Loki?” I ask roughly, while I thumb his cheek gently.

“Was it me? Did I just forget you? Let you fall to the wayside in the face of my arrogance and pride? I did not mean to Loki. Only when we were brought to ruin and the brink of death could I see the enormity of my mistakes, and for that I am sorry, so very, very sorry,” I lament sadly, as a couple more tears tumble down my cheeks.

Loki only hesitates a moment before wiping my tears away carefully as he intones softly, “We grew up Thor. The love between children is easy and pure, to maintain something beyond it takes work and dedication. You are light where I am dark and for every fault you are guilty of I have one as well, if not more. Your light is simply more well loved than my darkness, and though I should not fault you for it, I did, because I wanted it for myself. That light used to be mine alone, because even if you shined it on others during the day, at night when I was wrapped up in your arms in bed and Mother sang us to sleep that light was for me alone and I knew who you really belonged to, who held your heart. It hurt more than you will ever know when you began piecing your heart out to your friends and playing with them instead. I decided if I could not have all of you, then I did not want any part of you, so I pushed you away. It was the only thing that made it bearable for me to stand in your shadow because you did not have time for me to stand at your side. This is our path Thor, you need not agonize over it more than necessary.”

“That was our path,” I rebuke vehemently.

Loki blinks at me looking surprised.

“Do you not think this is a second chance Loki? Because I do,” I ask earnestly.

Loki makes a noise of disbelief and replies, “Do not be ridiculous Thor, Odin will not let this farce continue. Not to mention you cannot honestly tell me you want this and not a real wi…”

I cut him off with, “Firstly, Father can go to Hel as far as I am concerned. I told you I have no interest in a throne that does not involve you at my side, and I meant it. If that means I have to abdicate to keep you at my side forever, so be it.”

“Thor you cann…!” Loki starts to protest, but I cut him off by kissing him.

Loki makes a noise of protest, but he lets me kiss him nonetheless.

When I relinquish his lips I murmur sincerely, as I gaze steadily into his crimson depths, “I can and I will Loki. You are what matters most to me in this life and the next. I do not need anything besides you to be happy.”

Loki looks like he’s about to protest again, but my look silences him, and I go onto say, “I was not horrified as you say when Father made his demands known, shocked yes, stunned yes, and very surprised yes, but horrified no. Perhaps at our circumstances I may have been horrified to an extent, but only in the sense that we had been forced, but not with you, never at you Loki. More than anything beyond the shock at the time I felt violated, for us both, that Father would force a child on us when I knew you wanted nothing to do with me. That he would force a child on an already broken and bleeding relationship and all but ensure its destruction with it. You resented me so much already, hated me even, and I was still so angry, and then to add a child on top of all of that? I felt it was cruel in a way that I had not thought Father was capable of being. I felt defeated all over again, and like I had lost the battle before it had even begun because of his demands.”

I take a deep breath and stroke Loki’s cheek for a moment before continuing, “I think in this I was the slow, dull creature you have always accused me of being, and as always Mother was the one to set me to rights. I was so distraught and beside myself by the time I ended up on her bench under the willow later that day that I am surprised she managed to get a coherent sentence out of me. Mother asked me if I thought it was strange that I had never taken a wife or even entertained the thought before. I replied no, of course not, no maiden had ever been interesting enough, and it is true. Mother only smiled at me and asked me compared to who though. The answer compared to you was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.”

Loki’s crimson eyes are large and round as he listens me with rapt attention making me smile gently, even as I go on to explain, “It then occurred to me what I had just said, and I tried to reason with Mother that I had never wanted you in the sense that I desired a maiden. Mother replied that while that was true it certainly said something that I was using you as my standard for comparison, and perhaps all I needed to do was open my heart to learning to love you in a different sense. I have Loki. Admittedly you were more than a bit prickly in the beginning, and you still can be, but I regret nothing. I love you more than anything, I want you more than my next breath, and I will spend the rest of my life proving to you just how much I am yours like I want you to be mine in everything if you let me.”

“Please let me love you Loki,” I plead softly, before dipping slightly and capturing him in a kiss.

Loki’s gentle slender hands are hesitant from their place on my chest, holding the paper thin barrier between us, before they slide cautiously upwards to curl just around the base of my corded neck.

I let my right hand stay on Loki’s neck while I allow my left hand to graze the back of his shoulder and skim downwards in the water, along the length of his back to grip his slender waist gently.

Loki’s reaction is immediate, tearing away from the kiss and me as he whirls around to face away from me.

I watch sadly as Loki wraps his arms around himself, and his shoulders start to tremble with his pent up anguish and pain.

The only question I want answered before I do something unwelcome is, “Is it me?”

Loki buries his face in his hands so that his answer is muffled, but I still hear it just fine, “You know that has nothing to do with it Thor.”

I don’t hesitate to step forward and grab Loki by the waist, drawing his cool slender body against my broad solid warmth, to envelop him a secure loving embrace.

Loki makes a high noise in his throat and tries to leap out of my arms from surprise and shock, but I hold fast keeping one broad hand braced across his breast and the other across his flat stomach as I rumble soothingly, “Calm yourself Sváss.”

Loki makes a strange keening whine of a sound and shakes his head hard, but I can tell easily enough it was a sound of distress.

“Shh, Loki, it is alright. Calm down everything is alright,” I murmur against Loki’s ear, as I caress his stomach soothingly.

The tension in Loki’s body breaks, as he just sort of collapses back against me all at once, and starts to sniffle into his hands. After a couple of minutes he mumbles, “It is not alright, nothing is alright Thor.”

“Tell me why then. Explain to me why you are so ashamed of this skin you have now,” I plead softly.

“Because I am a freak!” Loki nearly shrieks, slapping his hands down onto the water dramatically.

“I am a freak,” Loki insists. “Neither a man nor a woman, cursed with both a cunt and a cock and I am stuck like this Thor!” he exclaims, his voice getting louder and louder.

“It was one thing when I could choose, but now I am just damned to this Hel where I am not one or the other, nor can I ever be. Forever stuck to live in between worlds, and cursed with a body that is determined to hate me with these thrice damned heats,” Loki spits vehemently.

Loki’s voice breaks abruptly for him to whisper, “I hate it Thor, I hate it so much,” and he sounds so very bitter and broken that it makes my heart ache something fierce.

I hold Loki protectively close for a long minute to allow him to settle before asking softly, “Why do you so desperately want to be a man or a woman Loki? Does it truly matter?”

“You would not be so calm if it were you in this skin,” Loki snaps caustically, but the blade of his tongue is dulled by his weariness.

“No,” I admit truthfully, but go onto say, “But you have always been a shifter Loki, your changes so fluid and natural between your male and female skins that it used to baffle me that you could wear both like you were made for them. Now, with this form, I feel as if I am seeing the real you for the first time. The balance that has been struck, that is neither male nor female, and instead is beauty and danger wrapped up in this exotic and elegant form is incredible. I wish you could see it as I do, love it as I do. You have never let boundaries keep you before, why should gender hold you as well? You see your uniqueness as a curse, when I think it is what makes you stunning, unforgettable, and unfathomable by most.”

I gently grasp Loki’s chin and tilt it so our gazes meet before murmuring, “You are incredible Loki, stop punishing yourself by telling yourself what you should be and try to let me love you just for a little while.”

Loki exhales a shaky chilled breath against my lips, but lets me capture him in a tender kiss, and a moment later he turns enough for his arms to curl around my neck, allowing my arm to migrate from his stomach to slip around his waist and draw him gently closer. Loki gasps against my mouth when our fronts touch, but I keep my hold on his waist snug and my grip on the back of his neck reassuring, rubbing gently, and thankfully Loki relaxes all at once pressing up against me fully and making me hum contentedly into the kiss.

When I release Loki from the kiss I nuzzle him gently before pressing our foreheads together, just allowing us the feeling of closeness without any barriers between us for once, and I think it’s good for Loki to experience. I stroke his back gently with my thumb while I rub his neck and scalp with my fingertips hoping to calm him further, and I smile when I’m rewarded with a soft purr.

We stay that way for several minutes before I break the silence rumbling, “I love you.”

I can tell Loki is smiling just by the way his face moves against mine and the gentle coil of pleasure in my chest. The purring stops in order for him to reply softly, “I know.”

“Good,” I nearly growl before ensnaring him in a deep kiss that has him purring again in no time.

Chapter Text

I don’t push Loki. As much as part of me wants to I know better. This is hard for him, and I know Loki has made an incredible step forward in allowing me this much. Right now what Loki needs is some time to think about everything that’s happened because that’s just what Loki does, he thinks and chews things over, then thinks some more. So it’s with regret that I release Loki from the kiss, but I do smile at his soft sound of disappointment.

I nuzzle him lovingly and ask softly, “Will you let me wash your hair?”

Loki blinks at me before smiling slightly and nodding. I watch him glide to the side of the bath and return with a vial, which I take from him while he disappears beneath the surface of the water to rewet his hair. Loki reemerges soaking and turns away from me, and after pouring some of the evergreen scented wash into my hands I sink my fingers into Loki’s thick inky hair and begin scrubbing gently.

I can’t help but chuckle and how loudly Loki purrs under the treatment, but I think he likes it too much to snap at me. I’m still careful of his horns, and when he washes it out I wordlessly take the next wash from him and comb the winter mint scented cream through the long strands.

I am surprised when Loki rounds on me and orders imperiously, “Your turn.”

I just sort of blink at Loki, and he makes a little circling motion with his finger while wearing a distinct expression on his face that just says, ‘Well?’

I can only smile in the end and comply with his wishes, feeling ridiculously pleased that he would want to return the favor. Loki’s soft snort behind me is his only acknowledgement of my sentimentality.

When we’ve finished washing Loki’s previous ease falters when I offer him a hand out of the bath.

“It is alright Loki,” I murmur gently, looking steadily into his crimson eyes.

Loki evaluates me for a moment, before letting out a shaky chilled breath and then he takes my offered hand, allowing me to help him step out of the bath.

I pull Loki to me and simply hold him for a minute, allowing him the chance to recollect himself before leaning down slightly and snagging a linen towel, wrapping it around his shoulders. 

I kiss Loki chastely and then grab my own towel, knowing he’s probably more comfortable at this point with drying himself off.

I know I made the right choice just by how much tension is let out of the bond that I didn’t even register had been building.

I take a moment to dry myself off and tie the towel off around my waist before making my way over to the vanity and finding my toothbrush to brush my teeth.

Just as I’m finishing Loki appears at my elbow and sits down, a towel wrapped around his waist as well, and hair already spelled dry but still tangled from the bath.

Loki waits patiently for me to finish and then hands me his comb which I use to begin painstakingly untangling his long hair, though it’s so silky it isn’t very hard, and I’m gentle enough that Loki simply purrs softly under my hands.

“I should pick some of Mother’s flowers to pin in your hair,” I tease as I begin braiding Loki’s hair.

“Do it and I will break your fingers and make another wreath for you, but this one will be spelled to never come off your golden head,” Loki replies in a silky sweet voice, his smile sinful and yet completely serious.

I chuckle because this is the devious trickster I’ve grown up with, and I still remember the wreaths of flowers Mother helped us make for each other as children and we wore them in her garden one day. We were still too young to really know that boys weren’t meant to like flowers and Mother was all too delighted to help us, I think she still laments to this day that she never had a daughter.

“I am surprised you remember that, you were awfully young,” I remark softly as I finish tying his hair.

“I remember many things,” Loki replies, and though I’d normally take a comment of his like that to be yet another one of his thinly veiled insults I can’t help but notice his far away expression.

Loki’s gaze reconnects with mine in the mirror and he suddenly stands fluidly before ordering, “Sit.”

I blink at him for a moment in surprise before complying since I am not used to Loki being direct, nor am I used to being ordered around.

I don’t know why I’m surprised when Loki passes his hand over my hair and says a spell to dry it before he goes about combing it and tying it back for the day, I am sitting at the vanity after all. Perhaps it is because the action is so unlike Loki.

I glance back up at him in the mirror and find that he still looks rather unfocused prompting me to ask softly, “Where is your head Loki?”

Loki cocks his head seeming to look at my profile as he works before he looks at me in the mirror and replies, “Thinking of you when you were young. You truly were the golden son, so bright you shone and some days it was hard to even look upon you for it was nearly blinding in its intensity.”

I frown and I cannot help but feel a little upset and dismayed that I could have been driving Loki away even then, no matter how irrational I know the thought to be.

A gentle hand strokes the back of my head and then I find Loki seated sideways across my lap, his left hand curling delicately to cup my cheek tenderly so our gazes meet.

“I used to marvel at your brilliance as a youth. You were everything that I was not, bright, brave, brash, loud, innocent, naïve, and full of laughter and light. Even as a toddler I felt drawn to the dark and the cold, I felt no desire for adventures except for the ones that could be found in books and it amazed me that there could be anyone like you, someone so perfectly the opposite of me in every way it seemed. As much as you have managed to frustrate and infuriate me over the years I really should just resign myself to what I have always known, that being that I will never manage to understand you, but through time tested measures it seems we function best as a pair.”

I smile knowingly since that’s pretty much Loki’s twisted way of telling me he loves me too, so I reply a bit teasingly, “You know, I seem to find myself thinking the same thing about understanding you.”

Loki’s crimson eyes are intense as he returns, “I know you are trying,” before he touches his lips to mine in a chaste kiss leaving the ‘and that is what matters’ unspoken between us.

I touch our foreheads together and implore softly, “Please do not push yourself today.”

Loki makes a mildly irritated noise in the back of his throat but replies, “Yes Mother.”

I pull back and look at him steadily as I return, “You have had a trying week and much has happened between us. I know how much you like to think, it will not hurt you to take a break and partake in your favorite pastime for a bit.”

Loki sighs in a suffering way but nods nonetheless and lets me catch him in a soft kiss before he gets off my lap and we go about our separate ways getting ready for the day.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately for me I have been doing a sorry job indeed of keeping up with my princely duties because of how worried I have been about Loki this past week, so the rest of my morning and early afternoon is spent catching up on matters of the court. By the time Father has words with me I’m very much ready for my own favored method of burning off steam or when my head is in a jumble, so I hunt down my friends for several rounds in the training arena sans Mjolnir, to even the field some.

I may have overdone it a bit, I admit if only to myself, as I trudge back to my room with Loki. The pain is worth it though for the peace in my head, so I’ll take it, I just know Loki isn’t going to be thrilled with me. I probably should have stopped by our infirmary to see if Eir could have done anything for my ribs, I think with a wince as I reach out to pull the door to our rooms open, but it’s a little late now. Besides she would have harped on me just as much as Loki will and she would have told Mother. I would rather wait for them to heal on their own just to avoid that lecture.

I smile seeing Loki curled up in his chair with a drink. He looked rather contemplative until I interrupted his fire gazing, now he is just frowning at me.

“You look like you were worked over by a Bilgesnipe,” Loki remarks, as I bend and steal a kiss from him.

I wince as his cool fingers prod a cut on my cheek but reply, “We were perhaps a bit overzealous sparring today.”

“Mhmm,” Loki hums, giving me a rather scrutinizing look.

Loki’s scrutiny is a dangerous thing, so I make a quick retreat over to the wardrobe to gather some sleep clothes, and then shut myself in the bathroom.

Taking off my armor is a pain, I’ve forgotten how bothersome rib injuries are, only proving to be even more so when I get into the bath and actually try to wash. Damn you Volstagg.

I clamber out of the bath and begin drying myself off, favoring my right side heavily, and damning everything to Hel and back for the inconvenience of having injured my right side rather than my left.

From behind me I hear, “I had thought you were moving a little too stiffly,” making me jerk in surprise, and then wince from the resulting pain.

I turn and glower at Loki lounging against the doorframe, muttering sullenly, “Would it kill you to knock?”

Loki grins and replies, “Oh like you did this morning?”

I deserve that, I think with a sigh.

I’m more concerned about finishing drying off that I don’t notice Loki has moved into the bathroom until I hear the unmistakable sounds of him brushing his teeth.

I manage to slip my sleep pants on and tie them but leave the top where it is for now, instead moving to brush my teeth as well, just as Loki finishes washing his face.

Loki combs his fingers idly through my wet hair, murmuring a spell to dry it, while I brush my teeth. As I finish Loki asks, “Dare I ask what happened?”

I wipe my face with one of the linens before muttering, “Volstagg, it was a three on one match to begin with.”

Loki snorts and prods my ribs with his long fingers causing me to yelp in surprise and pain.

The Jotun clucks his tongue disapprovingly and remarks, “Cracked at the very least.”

“I could have told you that,” I grumble.

“Not half as fun,” Loki replies with a smile before ordering, “Bed you useless creature, and I will see what I can do about it.”

I only regard Loki briefly before allowing him to practically herd me back into the bedroom and onto the bed.

“Lay back,” Loki murmurs, using a cool hand to push gently on my shoulder until I lie flat on the bed before he moves to kneel over my lap.

I wonder idly if Loki is aware of our positioning, but I doubt it since he’s wearing an expression of intense concentration, as he braces my arm out along my side. Loki tends to have a one track mind when he’s focused on something, especially when it comes to things like his studies or seidr.

I hiss softly when he places his slender cool blue hands, that glow a soft green, over my already blackening ribs.

“Shh,” Loki soothes in an uncharacteristic show of comfort, before he begins chanting softly under his breath in some long dead language even to the Aesir.

Loki’s magic has always felt like winter’s kiss or winter’s bite depending which receiving end you’re on, fortunately it’s the former today, but I will never get used to the revivifying feeling it incites in me. The cold snap seeming to awaken every cell in my body in a simultaneously shocking and refreshing way, kind of like Loki himself I suppose. I cannot deny, however, that the coolness feels like a balm to the throbbing bruised feeling that I’ve been sporting for the past couple hours.

When Loki is finished I’m surprised that he reaches up with one hand and lays it gently over my cheek, only having to murmur a few words this time before the pain of the cut disappears entirely.

Loki brushes his fingertips over my cheek and asks softly, “How do you feel now?”

I capture his hand and kiss his fingertips before rumbling, “All better, thanks to you.”

Loki suddenly seems to realize his positioning, sitting on my lap and leaning over me like this, which causes his cheeks to darken a fetching color of violet.

I settle my right hand on Loki’s hip gently, as I murmur, “It is alright Loki.”

Loki looks progressively more and more like a frightened deer over the next few seconds, his hand against my ribs suddenly bracing to bridge the space between us.

I gently tug his right hand, that I still have ahold of, as I rumble comfortingly, “Relax Sváss, you are alright.”

Loki’s movements are a bit halting and stiff, but he still lets me draw him downwards to lie atop me, and I can hear his shuddering breathing as well as feel his rabbit’s pulse beneath my fingertips.

I’m not sure Loki should be so worked up about such simple contact, so I’m at a loss a bit as to the cause of his wariness now. I just make sure to keep my body relaxed beneath him, and only gently hold his hip, while I use my left hand to begin tracing up and down his spine, to try and soothe his nerves without making him feel trapped.

“Shh Loki, you are alright, everything is alright I promise,” I intone lowly, trying to soothe the tension in him.

Loki relaxes in increments, even as I continue to murmur reassurances to him for several minutes, but I think it helps. He seems to hit a bit of a tipping point because the last of the tension in his body seems to drain out of him all at once, and he just sort of melts against me, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck and starting to purr not quite a minute later.

I’m not about to complain and I fall silent instead, simply enjoying both the sound and feel of Loki’s thrumming purr, while I carefully and slowly ease my arms about him to embrace him fully, still using my thumb to stroke the skin on the back of his neck soothingly.

Eventually long minutes later Loki’s purr pauses for his muffled query against the skin of my neck, “Why does this feel so different?”

“This as opposed to what?” I ask quietly.

“When you would embrace me before,” Loki murmurs.

I think for a moment before replying a bit carefully, “This is intimacy Loki, I think that perhaps now for the first time you are open to it.”

A long pause and then a very soft, “I think… I like this.”

I smile and kiss the side of his neck before rumbling, “And I as well.”

Loki sighs and waves a hand making the candles go out before he snuggles closer mumbling, “Just a few more minutes,” his purr picking up again not long after that.

“As long as you want Sváss,” I murmur soothingly, as I stroke his hair.

As Loki drifts between the realms of wakefulness and sleep I feel his life force shift and smooth. The admittedly dulled thorns of the bush instead shifting and fanning out to the likeness of an evergreen. It’s as if Loki’s very life force itself breathes a great sigh, seeming to try this form on for size for the first time.

As I curl around the base of the evergreen I feel the softness of feathers rather than the razor’s edge of shattered glass and I can’t help the tear that slips down my cheek because finally, finally, I think I have managed to earn the forgiveness I have been seeking, and been given a precious and fragile gift of trust instead, whether Loki knows it or not.

Loki purrs himself to sleep atop me and after a while of languishing in the feeling I gently shift him off me, drawing the furs up over us before pulling him protectively close, as I drift off to sleep as well, smiling gently all the while.

Chapter Text

After Disting February 2 (End of Loki’s heat) to Feast of Einherjar May 30, Year Three

I find that while Loki loses none of his normal wit, sarcasm, or even typical snippiness, his softened life force does lend towards a certain tentative almost hesitant affection that I’ve never previously associated with him. Though I would never say so on pain of death I find his behavior to be absolutely endearing. It’s as if he’s a baby duckling with absolutely no idea how to swim, or use his limbs, for that matter, and he’s trying his damndest to figure it out.

Perhaps it is because Loki has always been such a smooth talker, his silver tongue able to get him out of even some of the tightest binds, but with this Loki just seems… lost most of the time.

At first Loki seemed truly distressed with himself, torn between liking the intimacy we’d found and being the loner he’s always been. The way he acted really made me wonder at his previous choice of bed partners, though I know just as well as any that intimacy is hardly needed for an encounter. I just ended up tossing it all in with the box labeled ‘Loki’s Eccentricities’ in my head, which has admittedly needed much upgrading over the years.

It took a few weeks to coax Loki into his stumbling along in this, but once he seemed to become very sure I wasn’t going to tease him about anything he was truly uncomfortable with he began to gradually unwind.

The steps have been small, painfully slow, and sometimes he takes it back just as fast before trying again a few days later. I finally figured out early on enough to just let Loki come to me again and not make any offers; offers are always refused.

At first it was simple things, like Loki occasionally kissing me first instead. He still always wants that closeness at night, but sometimes it’s harder for him to ask for it, or even accept it, than others, but as the months have worn on it’s become much more natural for him. The most progress that Loki has made of his own will is showing more skin around me, and just letting me touch him. One thing we keep is a morning bath together once a week on Sunnudagr, when I have no duties, and through that Loki becomes more comfortable with touching me in return. I take it as a good sign when after a couple months he decides I don’t need a sleeping top anymore, preferring the warmth of my skin instead.

All in all I think it’s going well, even if it is painfully slow, so I really want to strangle Father at the Feast of Einherjar at the end of May. It’s the first feast after Loki’s heat where his presence is actually demanded, the other minor feasts he can at least get away without showing up.

Feast of Einherjar May 30, Year Three

Father doesn’t have to say anything to Loki for me to be able to feel his disapproval, and obvious displeasure, that Loki isn’t with child, as he would be showing by now if he were. Though Loki only looks even more frosty outwardly in the face of Father’s contempt I can feel him withdraw and become prickly again through the bond, making me damn Father to Helheim and back over and over. If he’s managed to do permanent damage we will be having words, but there’s nothing I can do still stuck in this damn seat and expected to make nice for the duration of the rest of the feast.

Loki is so tense and doesn’t speak a word the entire way to our rooms, and when finally inside he nearly tears off his coat and tosses it on the couch before beginning to pace agitatedly in front of the fire place, while I begin to disrobe.

“How dare he!” Loki suddenly bursts out, nearly startling me into ripping my mantle.

I watch Loki out of the corner of my eye, as I work to finish undressing quickly, but Loki looks to be falling apart fast.

“He cannot do this to me!” Loki rants, looking slightly crazed now.

“I am n…not some whore that he can just demand an heir from!” Loki says aloud, his voice coming out strong and slightly shaky, but sounding more as if he is talking to himself.

I abandon undressing myself and approach Loki carefully as he spins away from me and nearly shouts, “I will not do it!” his voice breaking on a ragged sounding sob of,
“I cannot do this.”

I gently reach out and touch Loki’s bare arm, asking softly, “Loki?”

“Do not touch me!” Loki shrieks, as he whirls on me, and I feel sudden agonizing pain lance up my arm, causing me to cry out and drop to one knee.

I open my eyes and see the unmistakable blackening of frost burn marring my hand and arm, answering the question of what happened.

Loki makes a high keening sound of pure distress that has my name lost somewhere in it, as he drops to his knees next to me, holding his hands to his chest and looking equal parts terrified and horrified.  

Loki looks crazed, his crimson eyes lost in a place of fear and terror I’ve never seen from him before, and I realize he’s panicking.

I grab ahold of the bond hard and yank, as I intone firmly, “Loki.”

Fearful crimson eyes finally look up to meet mine and I rumble comfortingly, “It is alright, I will be alright, and I will make everything else alright, you just have to let me.”

Something breaks in his gaze, because he blinks and looks down at my hand before whining high in his throat, one of many vocalizations he’s capable of now, and then he reaches down and gathers my hand in a tender grip, his slender hands beginning to glow with his green seidr.

Tears start to tumble down Loki’s cheeks again, even as he murmurs the spells to heal my hand, and it’s easy to see he’s still very distressed over having burned me on accident.

As soon as Loki is finished he begins to apologize shakily, “I am so sorry Thor, I di…” “Hush,” I command, as I wrap both of his hands in mine.

“But…” he tries, which I cut off with, “Loki,” causing him to quiet and look at me meekly, crystal tears of ice still tumbling down his cheeks.

“You were distressed and it was an accident. It is forgiven and forgotten, so calm yourself Sváss,” I rumble comfortingly.

Loki sniffles, but nods in acknowledgement, allowing me to pull him into a gentle hug where he simply clings to me as if I will disappear.

“Shh,” I soothe, as I stroke his hair lovingly.

Eventually Loki’s sniffles subside, and he recovers enough that we can get off the floor and dressed for bed finally. 

Chapter Text

After Feast of Einherjar May 30, Year Three (Continued)

I herd Loki into bed, and have us all settled for the night, before grasping his hand and inquiring gently, “What had you so distraught tonight Sváss?”

Loki’s crimson eyes quickly fill with tears and he begins pulling at his hand trying to get away as he cries brokenly, “I cannot Thor, I tried but I cannot, I cannot...”

“Loki shh,” I try as I pull him close, but Loki just ends up burying his face in my chest and repeating his mantra of, “I cannot,” over and over.

I stroke his hair while I agonize and puzzle over his reaction, because I had thought everything had been going so well, slow but well, slower even than wooing a maiden to take her virginity.

My thoughts pause, Loki is certainly not a virgin, but something about his behavior and his words tonight prompts me to ask, “When was the last time you laid with anyone Loki?”

Loki’s mantra cuts off abruptly and his slender form is wracked with trembles for a couple of minutes before he finally whispers softly enough that his answer is nearly lost against my chest, “Just after Sleipnir was born.”

By the Tree that was nearly… a thousand years ago, half our lives. So the only logical question left is, “What happened Loki?”

Loki makes a keening noise and shakes his head against my chest, as if he were trying to shake the memory from his mind.

I gently duck my fingers under his chin and tilt his gaze up to meet mine before imploring softly, “Please tell me?”

Loki whines softly and shakes his head a little before managing, “It does not matter anymore.”

I keep ahold of his chin and gaze as I reply steadily, “It does if it still causes you so much distress and pain Sváss, so share it with me.”

I let Loki press himself close to me again, recognizing his need for comfort, and begin stroking his hair again instead.

A few minutes pass before Loki murmurs in a shattered hollow voice, “Their names are of no consequence anymore.” I feel lead settle in the bottom of my stomach with the damning confirmation of what I already knew but did not want to acknowledge. At least I can be sure they’re no longer of this realm if Loki doesn’t bother to name them.

There’s a long pause before Loki can begin again, “Just four Einherjar and I managed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” It suddenly occurs to me that it was just after Sleipnir’s birth that Loki spent so much time learning how to teleport great distances, and it saddens me greatly that this event must have been what prompted him to learn the ability.

“They said,” Loki’s voice breaks and he takes a shuddering wet breath before he continues, “They said being a broodmare suited me, for I was good for little else, and at least… at least that way I could no longer talk.”

Loki makes a pained moan of a sound before the rest spills from his lips haltingly, “And… and if I was willing to w…whore myself out just to save my skin from the court t…then I was more than suited enough to serve as a whore in the barracks. They would just do me the hon…nor of br…reaking me i…in.”

Loki isn’t necessarily sobbing so much as he’s gasping for breath, and I realize quickly he’s falling into panic again.

“Shh,” I rumble as I stroke his hair, “It is over Loki, it is all over. You are here, with me, you are safe Sváss I promise, just calm yourself.”

“It hurt Thor,” Loki whimpers against my chest as he trembles uncontrollably.

I close my eyes tightly against the burn of tears as pain that is all mine twists sharply through me and I want to tell him I know it did but I don’t, I have no idea how much it hurt and I won’t insult his pain by pretending to. I just clutch him closer and whisper fiercely, “You are safe now.”

I am so angry for Loki, angry that anyone would ever hurt him like that, violate him like that, but more than anything I simply hurt for him. It pains me terribly that Loki has been suffering in silence for so long, gagged by a corrupted social system and silenced by his shame. Worse still I wasn’t there for him, the trust between us nowhere near strong enough to have shared something like this, and even if it had been I’m not sure Loki could have brought himself to. Only now in this unique situation that we’ve found ourselves in is it necessary to lay this out between us, and in some very strange twisted way I am grateful to be here now because all I want is to make Loki’s pain easier for him to bear.

Loki’s trembling starts to get worse, wracking his frame violently and the first sob that breaks free from his chest sounds so anguished and broken that it tears at my heart in a way I’ve never felt before.

Loki clutches at me as he sobs bitterly, “I hate it Thor, I hate it so much. I hate this body and these heats that make me ache so badly to be filled and I feel as if I will go mad if I do not get it. I cannot stand it, I hate it. How can I want something so bad that only ever hurt?” his voice cracking.

“It hurt Thor and I am scared,” Loki whispers as he clutches at me tightly.

This is the heart of the matter, I think. He’s scared, terrified even, of something that was already daunting to begin with, now that he’s in a different skin, and if these men and the stallion Svaðilfari are his only means of comparison for being taken then it’s no wonder he’s terrified.

“It is alright to be scared,” I murmur against his hair.

I know Loki requires gentle handling at the moment and I feel as if we’re having to start at the very beginning all over again, and in a way I suppose we are.

I wait the long minutes it takes for Loki’s grip on me to loosen, and his rapid pulse to calm, before asking carefully, “You know it does not have to though yes?”

Loki draws a slightly ragged breath and replies, “Yes, but…” and I finish for him saying, “But it is one thing to know something and another to have experienced it.”

Loki’s whole body sags against me as he exhales his answer of, “Yes,” against my chest.

I’m silent for a long moment before murmuring, “It matters not to me Loki, I will always love you no matter what.”

Loki huffs a wet chuckle against my chest and replies, “You are a terrible liar Thor, you are better off leaving it to the God of Lies.”

I feel a little abashed but return nonetheless, “Fine, I hope someday you will trust me enough to be able to lie with me, but know my love for you will never change regardless. I hope you know and trust that I would never hurt you purposefully like that, and I will always be here for you, you need but ask it of me and I will try my best to provide it.”

Loki pulls back to look at me, and I can’t really describe his expression beyond intense, but he appears to be far more collected and put together than he has all night as his crimson eyes search my face while he uses his soft fingertips to gently caress my cheek.

“You would, would you not?” Loki asks softly.

“Would what?” I ask confusedly.

“Do whatever I asked of you,” Loki clarifies.

“Within the realm of the bedroom yes,” I reply earnestly.

Loki’s fingertips feather over my lips before he presses a soft kiss to them and murmurs, “Lie flat.”

I nearly raise an eyebrow at the request but rather than say something I simply comply, more curious than anything else as to what exactly Loki wants.

Loki situates himself next to my hip and gently draws his cool fingertips over my bare chest as he observes me quietly for a moment.

“I want… I want a chance to touch you, but I need for you to be still,” Loki murmurs almost to himself as his fingers drift down my arm.

Loki picks up my hand and strokes my wrist with his thumb, his hand glowing softly with his green seidr, while he stares me down with a penetrating look.

It only takes a moment for me to realize what he’s asking, and I think it says a lot about how far we’ve come or perhaps how foolish I truly am that I barely give the idea a passing thought before nodding and replying, “I trust you Loki.”

A lot of tension that I didn’t realize Loki was holding in his slender frame suddenly drains out of him. He nods once before drawing my arm up above my head, while I helpfully raise my other to be at the same level. Loki only has to murmur a few words while drawing his fingertips around my wrists and when he pulls his hands away I find that I cannot pull my hands apart more than a few inches nor can I pull them down from the headboard a handful of inches as well.

We both know that I could very well break the headboard if I tried hard enough, but that’s not what this is about, this is about Loki feeling safe, and if this is what he needs then I’m more than willing to give it to him.

“Thank you,” Loki murmurs as he bends and presses a soft kiss to my lips.

From there Loki begins his painstaking exploration by stroking his fingertips over the skin of my muscled arm, tracing every contour and vein he can find seeming to want to memorize it in minute detail.

As Loki’s soft touches continue I find myself relaxing steadily. When Loki has reached my shoulder he begins to purr softly, which only serves to further relax me, so I close my eyes and simply enjoy the feeling of Loki’s cool touch upon my heated skin.

I squirm a little when Loki’s fingertips dance over my ribs and sigh softly when those same fingertips press over my abs exploring the dips and contours.

I have to reign in my gasp though when Loki’s wicked fingers circle my nipple, but I can’t help a soft sound when he rolls it lightly between two fingertips making it pebble and peak beneath his touch. 

I’m well on my way to being fully hard when Loki’s clever fingers undo the laces on my sleeping pants and he settles both hands on the waistband as he intones softly, “Lift your hips.”

I open my eyes to look down at Loki, but do as requested, allowing him to draw them all the way down my muscled legs and finally off completely.

Loki begins his study of me again at my feet, tracing, caressing, and stroking over every line, plane, and surface he can find.

I have to admire his dedication as I have never had another lover attempt to memorize me so completely, though I doubt I would have allowed something of this nature with anyone else either.

I make a soft noise that is nearly a laugh when those wicked fingers skim the back of my knee. Loki’s lips curve in the gentlest of smiles as he simply does it again before moving upwards to trace the thick muscles of my thigh.

I sigh gently and my eyes flutter closed again when Loki’s gentle fingers press over the line of my hip, but it becomes a soft groan when those fingers start to comb through my blonde curls carefully.

I can’t contain my pleased sound as Loki’s fingers feather up the underside of my hard length which melts into a rather loud groan of pleasure when he wraps his slender hand around it to give it a teasing half stroke.

I do have to restrain myself from whining in disappointment when Loki pulls his hand away, and I open my eyes to look down at him, wondering what he plans to do now.

Loki is gazing right back at me and seems to contemplate me for a long moment before requesting, “Turn over.”

I regard him in return for a few heartbeats before complying slowly, since it’s a bit awkward with my hands bound.

Loki helpfully pulls my long hair back from my face and makes enough room so I can move upwards slightly to settle more comfortably on the bed.

Just being in a position like this isn’t comfortable in the least for me however. As a seasoned warrior everything about this position screams vulnerable and I have never put myself in such a position willingly before another. I think Loki good and well knows this, so I’m left wondering what he’s hoping to achieve or gain through doing this.

“Shh,” Loki soothes as he strokes the back of my muscled shoulder, “I will not harm you Thor.”

“I know,” I manage on a slightly shuddering exhale.

Loki simply strokes my back for a few minutes, his purr picking up again. I slowly relax once more under his gentle touch, becoming more comfortable with such a drastic shift in this new sense of vulnerability I’m experiencing.

“I am going to kneel over you,” Loki murmurs softly, and it’s the only warning I get before I feel him shift and a slender sleep pant clad leg slip over the backs of my thighs to settle next to my hip, so he’s straddling me. I can’t help my sharp inhale and the way I tense in surprise.

“Relax,” Loki purrs, as his slender hands smooth over the planes of my back and up the lengths of my upper arms over and over again, until I finally do.

Loki’s touch becomes more massaging and he never settles his weight on me, instead choosing to move down my body. He moves to kneel between my calves, but his touch only skates down my rear and legs, instead choosing to begin with his explorations anew at my feet once more.

As Loki ventures upwards I widen my thighs accommodatingly for him to adjust his position. At the same time I am acutely aware of the kind of vulnerability implied by my position, and I can feel my heart beat in a rapid tattoo against my ribcage because of my discomfort.

I try to relax as Loki’s hands smooth over my lower back and caress my cheeks, but it’s more difficult than I anticipated. It’s as if I’m fighting against myself just to keep calm and not flip back over to take back control of the situation.

“Would you let me?” Loki asks softly. “Would you let me take you if that is what I wanted?” he asks again, voice soft but words sincere.

I have to think about that for a long moment because there are two answers to that. One is easy and immediate, which is yes of course, I would do anything for Loki, give him anything.

The other answer is much more complicated. For Aesir relations between men are not seen as shameful, but it is always understood that the weaker of the two will be the submissive partner, the one that is taken, to do it the other way around simply isn’t done and when it is it is seen as ergi. It’s part of why I was so angry for Loki that he was violated by those Einherjar, because in their doing so it was a direct disrespect of his prowess as a warrior.

For me to allow Loki to take me I would be recognizing him not only as my equal, but also allowing him an honor I have never allowed another. Unfortunately Aesir only recognize each other’s prowess as warriors based solely on their physical performance with weapons and brute strength, when I have always been of the opinion that strength can come in many forms. Loki’s skill set, while unconventional, I find no less valuable nor less great than mine.

It’s that knowledge that allows me to breathe out a long breath and reply lowly, “Yes, but not while I am in these bonds and cannot see you.”

Loki hums in acknowledgement, but I can feel pleasure suffuse through me meaning he believes that I’m telling the truth.

“I can feel even your life force fighting to relax,” Loki murmurs, as he continues to stroke the skin of my flanks and lower back.

“Hmm?” I ask confusedly.

“It keeps switching from a feeling of armored plating back to its normal hot iron as you alternately tense and relax,” Loki supplies.

I really have nothing to say to that and a minute later Loki remarks, “Being vulnerable is not as easy as it seems now, is it Thor?”

My drifting thoughts pause and I think about that for a long moment. Because isn’t that exactly what I’ve not only been pushing for from Loki, but has also been forced on him with being made to live in his Jotun skin? I suppose I never truly considered what Loki must feel like in the position that he has found himself in with me, especially since it is one he’s never been in before willingly. It’s such a raw and open feeling, and despite trusting Loki implicitly to not hurt me I still feel myself react like a skittish colt under his touch, but now at least a lot of Loki’s previous edgy behavior makes sense.

“No, I am sorry for never realizing,” I murmur.

“You need not apologize for something you did not know,” Loki replies softly, but I feel him reach out through the bond and the gentle crisp evergreen of his life force ruffle against mine comfortingly, causing me to turn to putty beneath his hands.

Loki chuckles softly and remarks, “You are so easy Thor.”

“Only for you,” I rumble in return, and smile into my arms at the hot coil of pleasure I feel in my chest as a result.

Loki only pets me for another moment before shifting to sit beside my hip once more, as he commands, “Roll back over.”

I do as requested, though it is no less awkward than last time, but I finally manage to settle onto my back again. My arousal has waned some due to my discomfort, but I’m hardly anything like soft at the moment, and I’m rather hopeful that Loki will finally turn me loose so I can go take care of it rather than force me to continue this suffering.

“Be still,” Loki murmurs, which is the only order he gives me before he’s straddling my waist again and dipping down to catch me in a kiss.

I gasp into Loki’s mouth when a cool hand wraps around my length, beginning to stroke it with teasing soft caresses, and it takes everything I have to not thrust upwards into the pressure, desperate for some relief.

I’m fully hard in a matter of moments, and as frustrating as I find it to not be in control I also find it to be equally arousing.

Loki breaks the kiss and simply hovers above me so I can feel his cool panting breaths on my lips, causing me to open my eyes only to find entrancing crimson looking right back at me.

Loki takes his hand off me for a moment and before I can whine in protest he murmurs something and then grasps my length again, but this time it’s slick with oil.

“Lokiiii,” I groan, my eyes fluttering closed once more at the absolutely divine sensation.

I can’t seem to catch my breath, and it feels like the air is simply too thick to breathe. The coolness of Loki’s hand is just enough to feel good rather than hurt, and the oil just makes everything feel so much better.

“I am going to spill embarrassingly fast if you keep that up,” I manage to pant out.

“Good, I want to watch,” Loki purrs, and I’m struck by how incredibly erotic his voice sounds when there’s an undertone of a purr in it.

It’s only a few minutes before I’m gritting out, “Close.”

Loki increases the pace just slightly and purrs, “Let go,” against my lips as he presses the pad of his thumb to the vein on the underside of my length.

“By Valhalla, Loki!” I exclaim roughly, trying very hard to keep still even as my release washes over me intensely.

Loki milks my release from me until I have nothing left to give, and I’m just about ready to whimper from the sensitivity when he finally relinquishes his hold on me.

Loki murmurs something, and I feel the residual stickiness and slickness between us disappear, before I feel the touch of Loki’s hand to my cheek causing me to open my eyes.

I only hold his gaze briefly before leaning up slightly and pressing my lips to his in a brief symbol of thanks, because I know words would fall pitifully short to express everything I want to convey at the moment, and everything I am indeed thanking him for.

Loki purrs softly in response making me smile into the kiss, and I feel his slender hands feather up my arms to encircle my wrists so that the next moment they’re free of their bondage.

I bring one hand to gently cup the back of Loki’s neck, while I use the other to rub his shoulder, as I pull him into a deeper kiss for a minute, before releasing him entirely.

Loki looks pleased at least as he settles next to me and extinguishes the candles with a flick of his hand, and as long as he’s happy I’m happy.

I sit up and snag the blankets to cover us before drawing Loki close in a relatively gentle embrace, since I don’t want him to feel trapped right now.

Loki looks at me briefly before looking down at my chest a little unsurely as he murmurs, “Thank you for allowing me to do that.”

I capture Loki’s slender hand, that is smoothing random patterns over my chest, causing him to look up at me before I return firmly, “I am more than willing and happy to do things where you feel safe, and go at a pace you are comfortable with.”

“Besides it was not like I found the experience unsatisfying,” I add with a smile, and I know Loki is blushing even in the dark.

I stare into glowing crimson for a long moment, just thinking, before finally saying, “I am not adverse to being in a place of vulnerability if that is what makes you feel more secure with me. I find it uncomfortable now yes, because I have never willingly allowed it before, but with you I think I can become accustomed to it and even comfortable with it with time. Perhaps it is not such a bad thing that I should experience what is being pushed on you constantly.”

I hear Loki swallow and there’s a long pause before he manages a bit roughly, “Thank you, you do not know what it means to me that you are willing to do so. I know in saying it is challenging for you does not begin to cover what it is like for you to experience.”

I touch Loki’s cheek gently and reply earnestly, “And it is any easier or less challenging for you? We are bound as one Loki, what right do I have to ask anything of you that I am not willing to give in equal measure?”

Loki sighs softly and finally murmurs, “Alright.”

“Sleep Sváss,” I rumble comfortingly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before drawing him closer so he rests his head against my broad chest.

Loki sighs again, but relaxes and shifts around a bit until he’s comfortable, tangling his legs with mine, and finally drifting off a few minutes later to the sound of his own sleepy purr. I simply smile and kiss the crown of his head before following him into the clutches of sleep as well, peace and contentment being my companions for the night.

Chapter Text

June, Year Three

I learn quickly within the span of a month that Loki isn’t adverse to pleasuring me, but it always has to be strictly on his terms and comes with a no touching rule. Loki always remains clothed, and especially if he’s pleasuring me with his mouth I have to be bound to ensure my compliance.

At first I didn’t mind it because, frankly, I was desperate for some relief, but now that the pattern is persisting, and I don’t really see any positive progress being made for Loki’s benefit, I find the idea troubling.

Now I feel like Loki gives me his hand or gets on his knees nearly every night this past week just because he feels like he has to and not because he wants to, and I don’t want that at all.

When Loki pushes me to the bed once more, and begins pulling restlessly at the laces of my sleep pants, I settle my hands gently over his as I intone, “Wait a moment please Loki.”

Loki looks up at me, and he appears somewhere between annoyed at being interrupted and afraid from being touched, before he snaps, “What?”

“What are you running away from by forcing yourself to do this night after night?” I ask gently.

Loki snatches his hands away from me, as if burned, and returns coldly, “I thought we already went over this.”

“I mean specifically Sváss,” I try softly, “I know all of it is daunting, but if we try to look at the pieces maybe it will not be so hard anymore. I feel like you are making yourself do this just to hide from what is really bothering you.”

Loki seems to fold in on himself, and he makes a soft whimpering noise of distress even as he curls into a small ball right there on the bed.

When I reach for him he only flinches away from my touch, and I try not to let it show how bad that hurts on my face. I wish with all my might that I could just fix it, but as it always seems to be with Loki this is a problem that Mjolnir cannot help me with.

“I am sorry for upsetting you so Sváss,” I murmur mournfully.

The little ball trembles for a minute before I hear the muffled word, “Touch.”

“Pardon?” I ask confusedly, before I can stop myself.

“I am afraid to let you touch me,” Loki says into his knees, so that his words are still muffled, but I manage to make it all out.

I frown in confusion because I touch Loki all the time and he even purrs when I do it, but he obviously means something else.

“You mean like the way I touch you in the bath correct?” I ask for clarification.

I get a jerky nod in response.

“Do you know why you are afraid? Do you simply not like the way it feels, are you ashamed, do you feel exposed to scrutiny that way?” I prompt, trying to get a handle on this fear from some angle, any angle will do.

Crimson eyes peek at me from over the tops of Loki’s knees before they disappear again for him to murmur, “I need it and I hate it. Your hands are so hot that it feels like they sear everything away, taking away that feeling of being worthless and used that I have lived with for so long. I do not like it because I do not know who I am without it, and if I let you and you leave I will be broken beyond repair.”  

“Then I suppose it is a good thing we are bonded Sváss for I feel that I would be broken as well,” I reply softly.

Loki peers at me from over his knees, and I offer him my hand, as I intone, “Some steps are not meant to be comfortable, or based purely on logic, Sváss, and instead they are a leap of faith.” 

Loki looks at me for a moment and then slips his slender cerulean hand into my own larger calloused one.

I draw Loki further into the bed and encourage him to lie down without removing any of his clothing, earning me a strange look from the Jotun, but I merely smile and kiss him softly.

Rather than overwhelm Loki tonight, I pull the covers up over us and settle next to him comfortably before slipping my hand under his sleeping top, to press lightly against his sternum, rubbing gently with my thumb.

Loki gasps and stiffens predictably, but steadily over the course of the next several minutes he gradually settles and eventually snuggles back against me, even purring softly before he drifts off to sleep, and I count tonight as another step forward on our road together.

Chapter Text

July – August, Year Three

Loki seems to settle better now that things are laid out plainly between us, much to my relief. He’s not so standoffish, and I don’t feel as if we constantly have to have the barrier of clothing between us outside of the bath. Now I simply have trouble deciding whether my favorite thing to do is comb Loki’s hair, or the time I spend at night in bed idly stroking his soft cerulean skin while he purrs himself to sleep.

Now that we’ve done this for another couple months I feel like we’ve come another impasse, and I struggle to think of a way to ease Loki past his discomfort. I know it’s something Loki wants, but he’s simply afraid, and more still he struggles to become comfortable with the intimacy we share every time we advance further.

End of August, Year Three

Lying in bed one night Loki shifts to roll over, and one of his horns catches on the pillow, making him growl in frustration.

I chuckle in amusement, earning me a mutinous look from the Jotun, but it’s hardly like this is the first time this has happened. We’ve had to have all our pillows covered with fur, just to avoid getting a face full of feathers, and having to replace them at least once a week. Loki’s horns aren’t particularly sharp, but they’re more than sharp enough to tear through the linen of a pillowcase, if he moves during the night and manages to snag his horn on it.

“What are they like?” I ask, before I can stop myself.

Loki stops in the middle of his attempt to roll over, and looks back at me as he replies dryly, “What do you think they are like Thor? They are cumbersome things.”

I shake my head and clarify, “No, I mean what do they feel like?”

Loki shifts so he can face me again, and raises one hand to finger a horn self-consciously before answering, “It is difficult to describe, and I struggle to compare it to anything you might comprehend. They are not entirely unlike your fingernails, but I have more sensation in them than that. The base of them is by far the most sensitive part, though not in a bad way. They are certainly nothing like another animal that does not mind to be grabbed or led by their horns, to do so to me would be a very unpleasant experience I imagine.”

Loki trails off and looks a little embarrassed, flushing lightly in the soft light of our room.

“I like them even if you do find them cumbersome,” I intone softly.

Loki’s flush only darkens, but he glances up at me furtively for a moment before reaching down and grasping my left hand, pulling it up to his horn as he cautions, “Just be gentle.”

I don’t even dare to draw a breath as I ever so gently feather my fingertips over the hard ridged surface. When Loki doesn’t flinch or pull away, and instead merely drops his hand and closes his eyes, I continue my tentative exploration, beginning to trace the ridges and the curved line that makes the ram-like curl of his horn’s shape.

I smile gently when Loki starts to purr softly, and with the reassuring sound my touches become more confident, as I begin using more rubbing motions, smiling more when Loki’s purr only gets that much louder for my efforts.

Loki seems to be melting relatively quickly under my caresses, and I think I’ve just found his weak spot, but I like having him so undone like this, just a purring puddle of pleased Jotun.

Perhaps I’m a bit overconfident because when my fingertips rub at the base of Loki’s horn his eyes slam open and he jerks away from me with a gasp.

“Loki?” I ask worriedly.

“I did not expect it to feel like that!” Loki mutters looking wide eyed. “It does not feel like that when I do it!” he says more to himself, his voice sounding distinctly higher.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” I ask, now even more concerned.

Loki puts a hand to his horn and shakes his head, but he’s rapidly turning a vivid shade of purple, and I suddenly realize just what that book meant as to why Jotnar only let their mates touch their horns, making me chuckle deeply.

Loki tries to look furious as he berates, “It is not funny Thor!” but he can’t manage it because of how flustered he is, and I only chuckle louder.

“No,” I agree, “But your reaction is.”

Loki growls at me, but I reach out and grab him around the waist to drag him close, ignoring his warning hiss, and catching him in a kiss instead.

When I break it I ask with a smile, “Could I make you spill just from that?”

“Thor!” Loki screeches, as he hits me on the chest with his fist.

Loki abruptly switches from embarrassed to upset because his crimson eyes start to brim with crystalline tears, prompting me to cup his cheek with my large hand as I ask concernedly, “Sváss? I apologize, I should not have teased you, that was wrong of me.”

Loki sniffs and shakes his head slightly, mumbling, “It is not your fault that I am such a mess.”

I kiss him gently before replying, “But you are my other half Sváss, and I want to do anything and everything to help you. That you are even trying means everything to me, this is yet another step, so try and tell me what frightens you now.”

Loki makes a noise that I now know is a whine being kept locked in his throat. Some of his vocalizations are still completely involuntary, like when he’s exceptionally angry or distressed, like he is now, but I like them because I feel like they force Loki to be more honest about his feelings with me.

Loki nuzzles into my hand before he murmurs, “The arousal in this skin is so strong. I was never one for indulging in my body before, but like this it is not only the urgent need, there is also this yawing ache to be filled. It is twofold, so powerful, and so very foreign that I am afraid of it. Perhaps, more than anything, I am afraid of experiencing it. With my heats it is forced and I hate it. I want nothing more than for it all to end as soon as possible.”

“You have never tried to sate it yourself?” I ask cautiously.

Loki shakes his head and mumbles, “No, I just…” and he trails off there.

Silence spans between us for several long heartbeats. “Let me try please? If you want me to stop I will,” I ask softly, as I stroke his cheek with my thumb.

Loki lets out a shuddering chilled breath, but after a long moment he nods and whispers, “Alright.”

I pull him forward for a gentle kiss that I steadily deepen until Loki is relaxed and pliant in my grip. When I relinquish his lips I murmur, “Lie back Sváss.”

Loki’s breathing hitches, but he lies flat on his back obediently.

I simply stay beside him for a moment, stroking the soft skin of his taut stomach, before sitting up and untying the laces to his sleeping pants.

Loki lets out a shuddering breath, and I watch his hands clench in the furs, but he raises his hips obediently so I can draw the pants down his long slender legs and off his elegant feet.

I smooth my hand up the length of Loki’s leg, just taking a moment to take all of him in in a way that I haven’t been able to as of yet. I’ve only caught glimpses of Loki’s nude form coming in and out of the bath these past months, and I haven’t made a habit of staring since I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Loki is beautiful though, and his clan lines only accentuate his slender form, but it’s something else to see the entire picture now.

Of course what poor Loki cannot seem to reconcile with is his altered gender, though he hardly looks that freakish to me. He still has a cock just as he would as if he were Aesir, but rather than where his sac would be I can see the dark blue lips of his cunt. Aside from that the only other difference is that Loki is completely hairless, besides the long hair on his head. It is hardly a cause for the sort of meltdowns Loki has on a regular basis, but then again if it were me I might react just the same.

I ghost my hand over the line of Loki’s hip and hear him whimper, causing me to murmur consolingly, “Shh Loki, you are beautiful, and there is nothing wrong with you.” 

Loki whines softly so I move and kneel over him gingerly, keeping my weight off him, even as I lean down and cup his cheeks tenderly, intoning, “You are alright Sváss, just look at me.”

Loki’s breathing is a little faster than I would like, and his hands are bracing on my thighs. He’s not quite pushing me away, but he’s definitely not pulling me closer either, and it takes a full minute before fearful crimson opens to meet my steady blue gaze.

“You are alright Sváss,” I rumble comfortingly, as I stroke his cheeks with the pads of my thumbs, then reassure lovingly, “You can always tell me to slow down or stop.”

Loki’s breathing hitches, and I just hold his gaze steadily for a minute, before asking softly, “Do you believe that I will stop if you ask me to?”

Loki lets out a shaky breath, but he nods nonetheless.

“Tell me,” I prompt gently.

Loki closes his eyes briefly, and takes a deep breath, before opening them again to murmur, “Yes, I believe you will stop.”

“Good,” I rumble, before catching him in a gentle kiss.

When I release Loki’s lips I spend a few more moments stroking his cheeks and then his neck, before allowing my fingertips to drift upwards to feather over his horns once more.

Loki sighs softly and I watch his eyes flutter closed almost immediately, which is soon followed by a soft purr.

Even though he’s purring I feel compelled to ask, “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” Loki purrs softly.

I’m exceptionally gentle when I allow my fingertips to brush the base of Loki’s horns, and I can’t help but smile at his soft stuttering inhale of surprise.

I keep my touches light for the moment and allow Loki to acclimate to the sensation, feeling his cool hands slip upwards to rest on my ribs lightly, while his growing interest brushes against me through my sleep pants.

I rub a little harder, and Loki arcs beautifully underneath me gasping, “Haaa Thor!”

I catch him in a probing kiss, as I continue to finger his horns, and try not to smile at the way he arcs beneath me to rub against me.

When I finally let Loki go he’s panting lightly and his eyes are glassy, his long fingers clenching from their place on my ribs as he purrs, “Thorrr.”  

“Alright?” I ask a bit roughly.

“It aches,” Loki whimpers, crimson eyes pleading.

“Shh,” I murmur, kissing him chastely a one last time, before shifting down his body and managing to maneuver one leg between his before he figures out my end game, and widens his thighs accommodatingly for me to settle between them.

Looking up Loki’s body I can see he’s fighting a blush, and failing miserably, but at the same time he’s too aroused to be as self-conscious as he normally is. I decide to press my advantage while I have it, hoping that if I can get him past this hurtle it won’t seem so daunting in the future.

I rub his hips comfortingly for a moment before using my fingertips to gently draw down his hardened length, finding it to be slightly warmer than the rest of his cooler body.

Loki whines and arcs into the touch, so I wrap my hand around his length and give it a few experimental strokes, but this seems to only make him restless and he quickly begins to shift under my touch.

The folds of Loki’s cunt glisten with wetness, and I carefully draw two fingertips down the length of them while continuing to stroke his cock.

Loki shivers and moans plaintively, but a certain tension seems settle in his body even as he pushes into my questing fingers.

I’m very gentle when I slide a single thick finger into Loki’s slick cunt while I continue to stroke his cock, in the hopes of keeping his attention divided.

Loki’s face twists into something near agony and something a little like pleasure, but his eyes are definitely damp on his next shuddering inhale, causing me to ask softly, “Do you want me to stop Sváss?”

“No,” Loki replies raggedly, but the word sounds ripped from him, and I can tell he’s fighting hard against the demons threatening to claw their way out of his chest.

“I love you Loki,” I murmur, as I lean down and press a kiss to his stomach, before taking my hand from his cock to plant it next to his hip so I can envelop his length with my mouth.

“Aaah,” Loki breathes in surprise, going taut beneath me before melting completely to begin purring, as he feathers gentle fingers into my golden locks.

I doubt Loki will last long judging by how loud he’s purring, but I’m more focused on his responses rather than what I’m doing with my mouth. My prediction was right it seems, and when I ease a second finger into Loki’s slick folds he’s gone whimpering, “Thor!” as he goes taut with completion beneath me.

One thing I notice immediately is that Loki doesn’t taste bitter, and though it’s been a long, long time since I’ve done this for any Aesir I’ve hardly forgotten the bitter taste. Instead Loki tastes like snow and it nearly numbs my mouth even though his spend isn’t cold, how that works is a matter to be mulled over later.

The next is that Loki is still shifting restlessly, even as I pull off his length, and sure enough he whimpers, “Aches, Thor. It aches.”

I frown and make to pull my fingers out of him, but Loki whimpers sharply and the muscles of his cunt clamp down hard, trying to keep them in.

I look down at his cunt, and it hits me a little belatedly, making me wonder why it took this long with the evidence laid out so plainly before me. If Loki really is both genders, and from the way he’s complaining, I imagine he can be satisfied both ways, so he can spill like a man and crest like a woman, which is why he keeps going on about aching. Sometimes I really am as slow as Loki accuses me of being.

I don’t hesitate to bend down again push my mouth to Loki’s cunt lapping strongly, while I slide my fingers back into him and begin a steady rhythm of gentle thrusting.

Loki fairly shrieks in response, but the hand in my hair only pulls me closer. Loki is so tightly wound already that it hardly takes a few minutes of lapping and suckling at the little bud of his clit before he’s is going taut beneath me once more, slender thighs trembling with the strength of his completion.

I ease off of Loki carefully, acutely aware that he’s probably more than a little sensitive at the moment, and slip my fingers out of him slowly. I wipe my beard off halfheartedly before leaning down and grabbing the furs at the end of the bed, to draw them up over us as I move to lie alongside him.

Loki looks… overwhelmed, to put it lightly. His blissed out expression quickly dissolves into tears as he curls into me, which then turn into hiccupping sobs.

All I can do is hold him close, and pet his silky hair, as I wait for the storm to pass, trying my best to comfort him through our bond as well. The one consolation I take from all of this is that Loki’s life force hasn’t become thorny and defensive again, and rather it just feels more frostbitten, which usually means he’s feeling a bit lost.

Eventually Loki’s sobs die down to sniffles and occasional wuffing noises, so I feel it’s safe to ask, “Talk to me Sváss.”

Loki burrows deeper into my chest and draws a ragged breath that I fear for a moment might be the start of another round, but instead I get a mumbled, “It is so relieving to know it can feel good.”

That… is not what I was expecting, considering the kind of waterworks I just witnessed.

Loki isn’t finished, though, because after a pause he says wetly, “And now I feel guilty for enjoying it.”

Alright now I am just plain confused, and I say so, murmuring, “I do not understand.”

Loki pulls back to look at me, and swipes at the last of his tears, before saying, “I do not expect you to understand Thor.” His gaze drifts downwards before he continues softly, “But I have been living with this feeling of being dirty and used for so long that I wear it like a second skin. That feeling of worthlessness is as comforting as it is infuriating, because it is all I know anymore. When you strip it away with your brightness and warmth I feel raw and exposed in the worst way. Then you use that warmth to give me pleasure, rather than pain, and I feel guilty for enjoying it and guilty for making you associate with me. I fear that the tainted parts of me will stick to you like tar and never come off, ruining your brightness. It is only worse now that I match the tainted twisted creature I am on the inside with a skin of a monster on the outside.”

I think about that for a long moment before using my fingertips to tilt his chin up, causing our gazes to meet, and intone solemnly, “So you feel undeserving of love.”

“Yes,” Loki whispers.

“You know I love you, yes?” I ask softly.

Loki’s crimson eyes start to glisten with tears, and he replies a bit tremulously, “Yes, but it does not help.”

I smile gently, and stroke his cheek, returning, “Of course it does Sváss, look how far we have come, how far you have come. You cannot see it as easily because you look at yourself in the mirror everyday and see no change, but I see much change, feel it even through our bond. The reason this is all so much harder is not just that you believe that you are not worthy of love, it is that you do not believe you are worth loving yourself, and therein lies the true problem. When you are not capable of loving yourself how can you accept the love of others, especially when you can see none of the qualities they are loving you for?”

Loki looks very overwhelmed again, and a tear slips down his cheek, as he nearly whimpers, “Thor I do not… I cannot…”

“Shh,” I rumble soothingly, wiping away the tear with the pad of my thumb.

“This is not something fixed overnight Sváss, nor do you ever love yourself completely, otherwise you turn out like Freyr,” I intone, finally earning me a small smile from Loki about my reference to the narcissistic Vanir.

“What you do,” I continue gently, “Is keep letting me love you until you can love yourself. Let me show you that you are worth it. Let me show you why you are worth loving both inside and out. Let me show you that you are worthy of standing at my side always as my bonded and more.”

“What happens when I can love myself?” Loki asks, his voice trembling slightly.

I smile lovingly, and reply earnestly, “Then I suppose you will be loved twice as much.”

Chapter Text

September, Year Three

It doesn’t get better overnight, nor did I expect it to. Loki is still shy about being laid bare, but he’s at least receptive to allowing me to stroke his horns, which always reduces him to a needy purring puddle. Every time Loki finds release at my hands or mouth though he is reduced to tears, but I think that I’m beginning to realize that just holding him through it, and comforting him, is helping him heal in his own way. Loki certainly doesn’t seem to be worsening for the experience, and I liken his crying spells to draining an infected wound that has been left to fester, never pleasant, but something entirely necessary and required more than once.    

Aside from the sexual aspect of our lives I begin setting aside time to ask Loki to do things with me. We go on walks in Mother’s gardens often, and take rides through the city and the surrounding countryside on our horses, though Loki much prefers the countryside understandably. I invite him to tell me of the spells he’s studying and to give me his opinion on political issues currently being addressed at court. All of these things are received with both bemusement and suspicion at first from Loki, seeming to not comprehend that I genuinely want to spend time with him outside of our rooms, and actually value his opinion on anything of import, or desire to listen about his scholastic pursuits with his seidr. Eventually, just as with everything else it seems, he settles into the idea. More than anything I’m thrilled to get Loki out of the room, he’s spent far too much time cooped up trying to avoid Father, and I think he needs to stretch his wings a bit.

December, Year Three

Loki has been in a fairly good mood with the winter months having descended upon us once more, but, yet again, it’s another feast that unsettles Loki’s fragile equilibrium.

Father has attempted to talk to me several times about whether I think Loki and I will be able to meet our deadline, but I’ve tried my best to be evasive in my answers, neither confirming nor denying anything, which really is the closest to the truth as anything at all. I really couldn’t say whether Loki will be ready, but I’m loathe to push him when we’ve already accomplished so much.

Tonight, at the New Year’s feast, just the critical look Father is giving Loki, now that his heat is rapidly approaching, is enough to make even me uncomfortable. Loki has been doing so well, but in my heart I fear he isn’t ready still, and I do not wish to ruin everything we have worked for just because of an ridiculous deadline set forth by my Father. I can’t help but feel rather resentful over the whole ordeal of being forced into such a position, but I good and well know Loki and I wouldn’t be where we are if not for our circumstances, as much as I hate admitting it.

In our room, after the conclusion of the feast, I’m a bit surprised when Loki turns to me and begins making motions to divest me of my ceremonial armor, first undoing my cape and then the straps and buckles that hold my breastplate in place.

Loki has changed much in these last months, but he is hardly what I would call a doting wife, and has no such inclinations to cater to me like one either. If I am capable of doing something myself then I’m left to do so, is Loki’s usual attitude. The only exception to that being when we bathe together, so this is very unusual indeed.

I comply in the manipulations without comment though, and when I’m rid of my clothing I make to do the same for Loki, which he allows without protest. I drop Loki’s clothing to the floor, letting it fall where it will in favor of having him in my arms as soon as possible, and he steps willingly into my embrace, clinging to me tightly and tucking his face against my neck.

“What troubles you Sváss?” I ask gently, as I trace my fingertips over the ridged clan lines running up and down his back.

There’s silence for a long moment before Loki whispers against my neck, “I do not want to wait.”

My heart skips uncomfortably in my chest, but I allow Loki to pull back some so I can see his face.

Loki’s gaze flicks up to meet mine furtively before he drops it to my chest, where his fingertips brush the hollow of my throat, as he says, “I do not want the first time you have me to be something that happens between us because it is anything less than something we both want. I do not want it to be because of some ridiculous obligation, and I do not want to be so mindless with need that I will be begging for it, regardless of my feelings on the matter, and probably will not remember it that well anyways. I just… I want it… to mean something.”

“It will,” I assure confidently, because that is something I know with all my heart and soul, but I still feel the need to ask, “Are you sure this is something you are ready for though?”

Loki looks up at me, and his crimson gaze is steady, as he replies, “Some steps are not meant to be comfortable, and instead they are a leap of faith.”

I can’t help but smile at that, and lean down a bit to capture Loki’s lips in a kiss.

I tug Loki along with me to the bed, and let him settle comfortably onto his back before climbing on top of him and ensnaring him in another kiss, this one deeper and more loving than the last.

One thing that Loki has become more comfortable with, in recent months, is allowing me positions of power like this in intimate situations. I know it hasn’t been anything like easy for him to become accustomed to, but he’s gotten much better and far less skittish.

“Tell me if it is too much,” I murmur against his lips, before making it my mission to turn him into a mewling whimpering puddle of need beneath me.

I love how responsive Loki is to my every caress, and I know I will never tire of hearing the myriad of noises I can manage to pull out of him now. Perhaps it is a rather selfish thing to be grateful for, but I love being the only one to make him sound like this and experience such pleasure. In many ways he is still innocent and unspoiled, his inexperience allowing a sense of unrestraint in his responses. So many of us learn through time and experience to either muffle or exaggerate our responses for the sake of our partners, fearing ridicule or embarrassment, but there is none of that with Loki once he pushes past his initial shyness, and I positively relish in it.

Loki responds so prettily to just about anything I choose to do to him. Breathy gasps that melt into moans when I latch my teeth onto the slender column of his neck, worrying the soft skin there, that eventually bleed into purrs when I switch to sucking dark purple marks into his skin. I never start with pain or sharp sensations, as it’s a sure way to overwhelm Loki and not in a good way, but I’ve found through trial and error that he does enjoy the build up to pleasurably painful sensations after I’ve focused my attention on an area for a bit, and I’m more than a little taken with showering attention on his slender neck and shoulders.

Loki’s hands are always restless things when I switch from lavishing attention to tormenting him instead, and tonight is no different. When I’m done with his neck I move onto his dark blue pebbled nipples, and I love attending to this part of him if only because of the way he squirms underneath me. Once I’ve finished suckling on them and laving them with my tongue, moving on instead to gently tugging on them with my teeth, Loki is whining beneath me as his long fingers grip my golden hair tightly, always seeming as if he can’t decide to pull me closer or push me away.

I tease him to the point of cruelty, his whines turn into whimpers of oversensitivity before I finally relent and return to my failsafe: his horns. Poor Loki, someday he’ll regret showing me such a weakness, but for now I revel in it, stealing a deep kiss from his breathless lips as I bring my big hands up to rub his horns affectionately, garnering a deep purr of pleasure for my efforts.

Loki positively adores the attention, even if he’ll never admit it outright, and I have to admit I’m quite taken with providing said attention. Loki’s horns were something I admired at first because of their graceful curl, and how they only seemed to accent his already refined features, but now it’s a difficult thing to articulate in how I can find them so attractive on him, so I’ve given up trying, and Loki minds my obsession with them less and less everyday.

When I release Loki from the kiss I lean up and kiss his forehead before doing something I’ve never tried before, though I’ve certainly wanted to, and I don’t doubt he’ll like. I drag my lips along the seam of his left horn before using my tongue to retrace my path.

Loki’s reaction is immediate, gasping breathlessly, “Aaah Thor!” as he arcs into me in response. His fingers dig into my shoulders so hard I know I’ll have bruises for a week. I don’t let up, and instead I simply press my thumb to the root of his horn before repeating the same treatment to his other one with my mouth, which has Loki just about incoherent with pleasure.

When I finally decide I’ve tortured Loki enough, even though I’m fairly sure I could make him spill from this alone, I ease up and go back to rubbing his horns soothingly. I catch him in one last breathless kiss before shifting down his body and slip to kneel between his slender blue thighs, that he widens accommodatingly.

I want Loki to want this, but I feel it will do him good to achieve release before going forward, so he hopefully won’t be so tense. So I don’t hesitate to lean down and envelop his hard length with my mouth, as I press a single finger into his slick warm folds.

Loki’s pretty moan bleeds into a purr of contentment and I feel his long fingers feather into my hair. I proceed to make short work of him, though that’s hardly difficult considering how he’s already on edge from all of my previous treatment. My actual goal, however, is to distract him enough to have three of my thick fingers in him stretching him wide. The last still garners a soft whine of discomfort, even as I push him over the edge to spill in my mouth.

I pull off of Loki’s length and lean up to catch his lips in a kiss, before withdrawing my fingers carefully, but he still squirms a little at the feeling. Once I’m finished kissing the breath from his lungs I withdraw enough to see him clearly so I can ask, “How do you feel now?”

“Not so desperate,” Loki replies almost immediately. There’s a long pause before he squirms slightly beneath me as a flush starts to darken on his cheeks, and eventually he adds quietly, “I still ache though.”

“Mmm,” I hum lowly in acknowledgement, as I lean down to kiss at his neck again and my large hand drifts over the line of his flank, encouraging him to wrap his long slender legs around me. Loki is like this most of the time still, having an easier time articulating his satisfaction, or lack thereof, regarding the familiar male aspects of his arousal, but still being embarrassed about the female aspects, which is understandable considering the still relative newness of it for him. 

Loki acquiesces and wraps his legs around me loosely, and while he readily tilts his head to expose his neck for my attentions, I can feel the low hum of tension in his tall form underneath me. Loki’s breath catches in his chest as I settle against him, my thick length sliding slickly against the wetness of his cunt, and I have to bite down the groan that tries to escape my chest.

Never let it be said that I lack control where it really counts, because it has been way too long, and just being this close is a form of physical torture all its own. The other torturous aspect being the emotional one, because I want this so badly with Loki; to share in each other in the most intimate way possible. I won’t force him though, I can’t, no matter how much I know I can make it good for him. If he isn’t ready, then he isn’t ready, and I know pushing too hard now could break him irreparably. I suppose it’s knowing that, that makes it easier to keep a tight leash on my desire.

I nose the soft vulnerable skin just underneath Loki’s jaw, kissing it chastely, before moving my left hand up to cup the side of his neck, and using my thumb to gently tilt his face so our gazes meet. It’s a little difficult to describe how Loki feels to me now, both physically and mentally, because he isn’t necessarily tense, nor does he feel afraid or ready to bolt, and instead he’s just… still. The ever shifting, rustling, and changing of Loki’s evergreen life force, reflecting his mercurial moods, has fallen completely silent, and a fragile stillness has settled over its limbs, waiting for something… my next move I presume. 

I lean forward and nuzzle him gently, brushing our lips together lightly as I rumble lowly, “You have nothing to fear from me Sváss.” I feel a tremor run through Loki’s frame, even as his slender arms slip under mine to clutch at my back as he replies on an exhale, “I know, Thor.” There’s a pause, and Loki’s grip on me tightens before he whispers, “Please.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and pull my hips back until the thick head of my length brushes the wet silken folds of Loki’s cunt. I’m hard enough and Loki is wet enough that I hardly need the aid of my hand, and with a gentle nudge the tip of my length slips inside Loki’s yielding warmth. 

Loki chokes on a breath and tenses predictably, causing me to pause immediately. I try to pull back to look at him, but Loki makes a strange whimper of a sound and clutches at me tightly to keep me from going anywhere.

I stop trying to pull away and press our already brushing lips together in a soft kiss before murmuring, “Ask me to stop and I will Sváss.”

A soft keening sound escapes Loki’s throat, and I feel his evergreen start to sharpen in defensiveness even as he whimpers, “I want this.”

I know Loki is only withdrawing in an attempt to protect himself, but I also realize trying to placate him at this point is just going to make it worse and give him more time to agonize over it.

“Then stop thinking and start feeling Sváss,” I rumble, before kissing Loki gently. I pull my hips back just slightly again and encourage, “Feel our bond, feel me.” With that I press inside him in one smooth motion, while simultaneously coiling my life force snugly around his evergreen.

I have a brief moment to ponder the intricacy that is a Life Bond, because I had always taken it to mean you were inextricably intertwined with your bond mate forevermore, but that hasn’t been the case at all for Loki and I. Only now, like this, united both physically and mentally, do I feel like we’re beginning to experience everything a Life Bond truly has to offer, and to me it’s nothing short of glorious.

I think we may have temporarily knocked the breath out of each other, because when I finally manage a staggering inhale and pull back some to look at Loki, he’s staring at me with wide crimson eyes.

“Oh,” is all Loki manages softly, blinking a few times in seeming surprise.

I can’t help my smile and soft chuckle at his reaction, but ask all the same, “Are you alright?”

Loki’s far away gaze refocuses on me before he nods and replies, “I… it is not… what I was expecting, but yes… I am alright.”

I nuzzle him again, and query roughly, “And how do you feel?”

Loki makes a soft noise that I recognize as one of embarrassment, but he still whispers, “Full.” He squirms a bit underneath me, causing the muscles of his cunt to tighten unintentionally so that I’m forced to choke down a groan, before he adds softly, “It does not hurt per se, a little uncomfortable yes, but it still feels… right.”

I think Loki is referring to the bond without realizing it, so I squeeze his evergreen life force a little tighter as I agree lowly, “Indeed,” before rocking my hips against his without warning.

A choked moan is my reward and I hear Loki draw breath as if he is going to speak, but I don’t give him a chance as I withdraw nearly completely, transforming his drawn breath into a stuttering inhale of surprise.

I only pause for a heartbeat before sheathing myself back inside Loki’s soft warmth, and I can’t help my grin against his lips as he arcs like a bow beneath me, a breathless wanton moan escaping his soft lips.

I only manage a few steady thrusts until Loki finally manages to regain his breath, and I feel his legs clamp around my hips as he complains, “What in the Hel are you waiting for already, an invitation?”

I’m tempted to laugh, since that’s the demanding Loki I know, but I growl instead and nip the soft skin of his neck lightly in reprimand, which earns me my own warning growl in return from the Jotun, telling me to get on with it.

“So demanding,” I chastise lightly, but I cut off Loki’s growl by thrusting in hard, turning his growl into a deep purr.

It doesn’t take long before that’s not enough for Loki, I can hear it in the pitch of his purr as it nears whines or growls, and the way he clutches tightly at my shoulders. Before Loki can make his demands known I slide my right hand between us and wrap my hand around his needy length, earning me a growling purr of approval.

Quickly Loki becomes demanding again, ordering, “Faster,” and I acquiesce, watching all of his reactions with rapt attention until he’s spilling over his stomach with a whimper.

I try to slow down a bit to give Loki a chance to catch his breath, but the grip of his legs suddenly becomes a vice as he shakes his head, silky strands of inky hair escaping his braid as he does, and gasps breathlessly, “Keep going.”

Despite Loki’s command he releases his grip on my shoulders allowing me to sit up some, and thus change the angle of my thrusts. Loki arcs on the bed and moans brokenly, “Yes, deeper.”

I’m a little surprised, more that he wants me to thrust deeper, than the fact that he’s still recovering from just having spilled, since that’s nothing unusual to me by now. Most women complain of pain if I thrust too deep, but Loki it seems has no such problem, in fact he looks quite rapturous at the moment to be perfectly honest. It’s not like I’m about to complain either because Loki feels positively divine, especially the way the muscles of his cunt clench around my length every time I attempt to withdraw, as if trying to keep me inside him.

It doesn’t take terribly long to have Loki all worked up again, and by the time I reach down to gently circle the swollen little bud of his clit with the pad of my thumb he’s a whimpering mess of desire, hard and leaking against his stomach again, while his slender hands clench in the furs convulsively.

“Touch yourself Sváss,” I growl roughly, feeling decidedly ragged as my control begins to unravel. Loki is much too far gone to feel embarrassed, and he keens loudly even as he wraps his slender hand around his swollen length.

I push Loki right to the edge, but I don’t torment him by keeping him there only murmuring instead, “Let go.” Loki is beautiful in his release, the tension and passion coiling so tightly within him only to be unleashed all at once is an incredible privilege to witness.

I hardly get to focus on it long since the convulsing muscles of Loki’s slick cunt are quick to milk my own long awaited release from me as well. I groan and bury my face in Loki’s neck, trying to keep the pressure of my thumb on his clit steady even as I pump him full of my seed, not wanting to rob him of the pleasure of his completion too early.

In the wake of the intense pleasurable waves of completion we’re both left panting heavily against each other’s skin, and I can feel my left arm tremble from the effort of keeping my weight off Loki. I wait for the grip of Loki’s legs on my waist to loosen before removing my hand slowly and withdrawing from his welcoming warmth carefully, but Loki still whimpers softly, in protest or something else I know not.

I hover over Loki for a moment, just staring down at him, and when his eyes begin to glisten with tears I lean down and catch him in a soft kiss, before easing my heavy weight to lie down alongside him.

Loki turns on his side and curls into me, which I’m more than happy to accommodate, pulling him to me and holding him close, unmindful of the stickiness still left between us.

I reach up and rub my fingertips over the ridges of one of Loki’s horns while I wait for him to collect himself, and slowly, after several minutes, he seems to calm down. I consider it a big step forward that he managed to avoid an all out breakdown, especially after something as overwhelming as this.

“Thank you,” Loki murmurs against my skin, though I’m really more comforted by the way his evergreen life force seems to settle, and return to being contentedly intertwined with my own warm one.

“No thanks are needed Sváss, you know that,” I reply quietly.

“I do,” Loki concedes, but before he can say anything else I tip his chin up with my fingers and catch him in a kiss.

“I love you,” I rumble, as I smooth my thumb over Loki’s lined cheek once I’ve released him from the kiss.

Loki’s smile is gentle, but the look in his crimson eyes is warm, as he replies, “I know,” and everything, it seems, is said with that.

Chapter Text

Loki doesn’t ask or try to initiate anything the next night or even the next, but I know well enough that his perception of our entire relationship just underwent a drastic change, which calls for patience and support on my part. I know he’ll ask when he’s ready.

The third night, rather than rolling over to let me hold him, Loki reaches for the lacing on my sleep pants while looking at me inquiringly.

I smile gently and murmur, “I am always more than willing Sváss, you know that.”

Loki lets out a slightly shaky breath and nods before undoing the lacing, and I comply in the manipulations to remove my sleep pants, watching him shed his own in turn.

Loki seems to hit a bit of a wall after that and just stares at me, not coming any closer, but not running away either.

I reach out and gently draw him closer by his slender waist, giving him a minute to just settle into the feeling of skin to skin contact again before entreating softly, “Just tell me what you want Sváss, and I will do my best to provide.”

Loki swallows and stares fixedly at the place where his fingertips brush against the skin of my chest, as he murmurs haltingly, “I want… I want you to make me feel… good again.”

I smile gently, and reply, “I can do that just as well with my hand or my mouth and I hardly need to be naked for it. So try again Sváss, tell me what it is you really want.”

Loki’s evergreen seems to quiver fearfully, forced into a place of vulnerability that I know has to be frightening, but I also know this is a step he needs to make all on his own.

Loki takes a deep breath before looking up at me and whispering, “I want… you… to make love to me again… please.”

I smile warmly and wrap myself as tightly around Loki’s evergreen as the secure embrace I pull him into, dipping my head slightly to kiss him deeply. When I pull away I wait until I am met with intense pools of crimson before rumbling, “I would love to.”

Chapter Text

Loki settles once again after that, having become more comfortable with this new level of intimacy we now share, much to my relief and happiness. He’s still very shy at the beginning of every encounter, but he loses himself quicker with each successive coupling. I like that he’s finally letting me push his body into the unrestrained ecstasy that he’s meant to experience during a coupling, and just revel in it rather than hate himself for it. I think it’s because he’s finally made the distinction between our relationship and everything that came before it, that being that they are as far apart from each other as two things can possibly be. What we share comes from a place of love, not from violence and pain, and that is what has set him free.

The first morning after a couple of weeks that I dare to pull Loki back into bed after breakfast earns me an indignant squawk, as he was already dressed and reading in his chair, but it seems to bring something to life inside him, something more adventurous. It’s as if the idea of having sex at any other time of day except before bed had never even occurred to him, and upon reflection I realize there’s the very real possibility it never had. The result is quite favorable because I’m assaulted in the bath not two days later and the next against the door right as I walk in. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t like seeing the mischievous gleam return to Loki’s eyes, and I delight in at least this aspect of his old self returning to him.

I am concerned when just a week later I wake to the sound of retching, making me frown in worry. I get up and pad quickly into the bathroom, finding Loki kneeling in front of the toilet and looking quite miserable too.

I kneel down next to him and place a gentle hand on his back to rub soothingly, as I ask, “Did you decide it would be a good idea to try some of my breakfast this morning Sváss?”

Loki manages to shoot me a glare before he’s retching again, and all I can do is continue to rub his back supportively until all he can manage are dry heaves. My frown deepens from worry, as it is still about a week too early for Loki’s pre-heat moodiness to be setting in, and he’s never had any symptoms like this to my knowledge. I wonder if he is getting sick and if so, how? He hardly goes anywhere, so I have no idea where he could have picked something up, and Aesir rarely fall ill as it is, but I know nothing of Jotnar ailments.

When Loki is finally spent he slumps against me weakly, muttering, “Why me?”

“How long have you been like this Sváss?” I ask worriedly.

“I had a spell in the afternoon yesterday and then it was gone. I thought one of the cuts must not have agreed with me,” Loki mumbles.

I frown even harder and admonish, “You should tell me these kinds of things Sváss. I care when you are not feeling well. If you are still like this tomorrow we are going to pay a visit to Eir.”

Loki groans, but concedes, “Fine you overbearing mother hen.”

“If you want a mother hen I can go inform Mother of your condition,” I reply lightly, with a self satisfied smile on my face.

Loki jerks to attention, and turns to eye me warily as he says, “You would not dare.”

“Then I suggest you cooperate if your condition persists Sváss,” I reply, smiling even wider.

“I hate you,” Loki grouses.

“I love you too Loki,” I reply and press a kiss to his forehead, earning me a growl of annoyance from the Jotun.

Chapter Text

It does persist, which is why I am currently escorting/marching a very reluctant and recalcitrant Loki all the way to the infirmary, because I cannot trust him to do it on good faith alone, not to mention I’m too worried to be of any use to anyone until I know what is wrong with him.

Eir knows of Loki’s troubles with food in the past and listens patiently to the both of us, since Loki is resolute that there is, in fact, nothing wrong with him, and I am adamant that something is, and make a point of saying so. When we have both winded ourselves more arguing back and forth with one another than actually telling Eir anything all she asks is, “Have you had relations with each other as of yet?”

Loki turns a vivid shade of purple and I splutter a bit since Eir has known us both since we were in diapers, and to discuss such a thing with her is not just a little embarrassing.

“What has that to do with anything?!” I exclaim in frustration, because Loki is sick and I want to know what is wrong with him.

“Hmm,” Eir hums noncommittally, and she extends her hands briefly that glow with her light blue seidr to hover over Loki’s stomach, and after a moment the color changes to purple.

She withdraws her hands and says, “Well indeed Loki you are not sick,” but before Loki can crow his enjoyment at being right Eir adds, “You are with child.”

If it ever escapes the walls of the infirmary I will know who told, but the mighty Thor that has felled thousands is felled by four simple words as I faint from shock.

I am awoken rudely by the unmistakable assaulting odor of smelling salts held by a rather put off looking Eir. I’m a bit groggy and all I can manage is a, “What?”

Eir purses her lips and snaps, “Get off your ass Thor, your husband needs you.”

Aside from Loki and Sif, Eir is the only person that could ever get away with addressing me in such a manner, but the process of nursing my bruised pride is interrupted by the sound of a sharp sob causing me to snap to alertness.

I look over and find Loki still seated on the edge of the cot, sobbing into his hands. I scramble gracelessly to my feet and hurry over to kneel before him, entreating worriedly as I settle my hands gently on his slender shoulders, “Loki? Sváss, why are you crying? Are you not happy? Is this not what you want?”

“You… You fainted,” Loki sobs into his hands. “You do not want us, you… you are disgusted by us,” Loki cries sounding just about hysterical. Oh Norns, no wonder Eir is so pissed at me.

“Sváss stop this,” I intone gently, as I grasp his wrists lightly and attempt to draw his hands away from his face, with little success.

“Loki look at me,” I command in a firm tone, and I’m finally allowed to pull his hands down far enough so that I may meet his tearful crimson gaze.

“Am I not allowed to be surprised?” I ask softly before continuing with, “For that is all it was, truly Sváss. It was my understanding that something like this is very rare for a Jotun, so unexpected yes, but far from unwelcome, and rather anticipated instead. I am excited Loki, are you not? We are going to have a child of our very own Sváss.” I lean forward and hug him around the middle so my head rests on his flat stomach as I murmur, “I love you Loki, and I will love him or her, or even if he is just like you, just as much.”

There’s a brief pause, and Loki’s breathing hitches slightly with leftover tears, before his arms settle around my neck and he rests his head on top of mine as he whispers, “I love you too Thor.”

My throat suddenly feels tight with tears, and I have to be careful I don’t squeeze him too tightly for how fiercely I want to smother him with my love at the moment.