Archive of Our Own ^beta

If size doesn’t matter,
why don’t they make 4” dildos?

The wind rushed beneath the dragon’s wings and he produced another roar, the resonant sound emanating from the depths of his gargantuan reptilian chest. The storm over the countryside intensified at his beckoning: he watched with cool satisfaction as the clouds grew darker and a rapid-fire sequence of six bolts of lightning struck in and around the township just a mile from his mountain.

Thor chuckled darkly; he could hear the screams from up here.

He banked right and descended upon a rocky outcropping overlooking the landscape. The force of his weighty landing sent plumes of dust high, high into the air above. Some of it settled back down onto his glimmering, sunny sandstone scales. He shook it off and released his freshly caught cow from his talons. It fell to the ground in a limp heap.

Thor changed his form to somewhere middling between human and full dragon. His new eyes had keener sight, and he craned his head forward to spy all the little things that escaped his notice in his full, true form.

But beyond the terror still plaguing the town, he saw little of interest. He sighed, feeling lonesome. His lair and tower had been empty of a prince/ss for nigh on three years now. Amora would only play princess if he paid her and then she was a disappointing actress, Baldr would only do it on Thor’s birthday, and otherwise Thor had found no other princess-type person attractive and companionable (or consenting) enough to take into his tower.

It was such a pity, for Thor had many fine gowns and dresses in his hoard on the mountaintop. Of such rare fabric and exquisite detail, they had been stolen from gilded carriages, or carefully pulled from fresh corpses of noblewomen and queens; they deserved to be worn. Thor’s tail drooped as he imagined what the moths must be doing to all of that fine lace.

As he sulked, some movement in a clearing below drew Thor’s gaze. Then he did a double-take. Could it be? Thor suddenly sat up to attention. A pale and slender man with raven hair. Such fair skin! Such beauteous locks! And that ass!

His heart beating a little faster in his chest, Thor unconsciously took a step forward, his talons digging deeply into the cliff’s side for purchase. What willowy, graceful movements! This man was surely neither warrior nor farmhand. He stumbled and Thor’s warming heart melted: definitely unaccustomed to physical labor! A pleasing shiver spread through Thor’s insides.

Maybe he also liked dark towers and hated the outdoors. Maybe he liked being protected by big, homicidal, scaly beasts! Maybe his inner traits were as glowing as his face! Maybe he liked to role play! Thor began pacing with excitement.

Oh, but his luck simply couldn’t be changing so magnificently in the stroke of a moment. Thor’s glee deflated. The handsome man was probably stupid. Or happily married. Or didn’t like big, homicidal, scaly guardians. With another sigh, Thor chose not to raise his hopes. He closed his eyes and settled down to forget him and bask in the sun.

But those dresses did deserve such an ass… The thought of all those poor, gorgeous gowns being smothered in dust made Thor’s heart hurt.

He should at least introduce himself to the prospective princess-type person. Then he need never after dwell upon the dreaded ‘what if’.

Right. For the dresses.

The matter settled, Thor abandoned his shocked cow and began clawing his way down the side of the mountain.

~

Once upon a time, in a beautiful, faraway land, there was a young sorcerer who wanted to be left the Hel alone, and a dragon with a tower with which to achieve this end. An incredibly tall tower with thick, sturdy walls to keep out all the knights, suitors, and cretins. And the mosquitoes, Loki thought irritably as he rinsed his itchy, bitten legs in the pond.

Actually, he had come into possession of such a tower only six months before, but its walls weren’t good enough. Rather, the blasted tower had a door to the outside (what fool builder had designed it like that!?) and no one ever stopped entering by it to bother him. But that was a tale for later.

Loki grimaced at the sight of his poor legs. How these awful bugs had marred him! It would be a full month before the redness vanished completely. And then there might be scars! He reached back into his pack for a few packages of herbs, oils, and his mortar and pestle, and began to concoct a soothing salve to stop the itching. And as he did so, a shadow fell over him.

Loki turned instantly, his hand going to his dagger. But, oh, it was merely a man staring down at him. Albeit a very tall, brawny, and blond man, staring at him with keen interest. Probably a knight, hero, or witless local. If Loki ignored him, he might just go away.

“Greetings, fair lord, I am called Thor. What brings you to these parts?” queried Thor the Man.

Loki sighed. He hated small talk.

“I am searching for my mother’s grave on the top of the mountain,” Loki lied pleasantly. “Now go away.”

“Ah!” Thor said, his voice brightening. “I am familiar with this area. Perhaps I can assist you!”

Loki rolled his eyes, muttering, “The only place you would assist me to is a ditch to have your way with me.”

But the blond man heard him. He merely laughed. “A ditch? Never! My offer is genuine; one must be wary on this mountain. Didst thou know a dragon lives at the top?”

Loki kept his face a mask of indifference, but his heart quickened. “I had heard such tales in the township,” he said mildly as he dotted the salve over his bites. “But you would know better than anyone, would you not?”

Thor interpreted this as an invitation and he sat down near Loki, but farther back from the edge of the pond. Loki had to turn around to look at him. Thor’s eyes fell to the angry, red bites on his legs and he made a sound of sympathy.

“Oh, poor dear, the mosquitoes have eaten you up!”

“Ugh, I hate field work. I long for my alchemy tower back home,” Loki said. Thor’s eyes lit up strangely.

“Are you an alchemist, a mage, or a nobleman dabbler in the dark arts?” Thor queried.

“A sorcerer. Spells, hexes, and herbology, you know,” Loki answered flippantly. “I pay others to gather my supplies for me; I am no field man. The days are hot and unceasingly humid, as though any other kind of weather is not allowed, and the bugs and the blisters…” Loki moaned in distaste.

“Oh, sweet darling!” Thor cried sympathetically. “You must be so unhappy, bereft of all comforts!”

“And I love my robes and silly, mage’s slippers, but none of it is designed for trekking over mountains! Before you go into the field, they tell you to choose your garments wisely, but they don’t tell you there will be blisters regardless!” Loki grumbled. The day seemed to grow even hotter and he began shading his eyes from the sun and fanning himself. Thor shook his head and tutted over his plight.

“Your poor, delicate skin! Let me help you to the shade,” Thor said and, without waiting for Loki’s reply, scooped him up in his arms and carried him to the shady edges of the clearing. He spied the sorry state of Loki’s feet as he deposited him in a good spot. Thor shook his head sadly and petted his feet gently. “How ever will you reach the mountaintop all on your own?”

Loki’s irritation with the man was fading swiftly. He always did respond well to coddling, and being alight in those burly arms hadn’t hurt either. But still, there was something strange about this man…

“Perhaps if you tell me a story to distract me, I will feel well enough to continue my journey,” Loki said sweetly. “One about the dragon who lives on this mountain?” He feigned a fearful shudder and Thor promptly wrapped a thickly muscled arm about his shoulders. Oof.

“Oh, he is a massive, fearsome creature whose breath is white fire and whose roar summons storms into existence! He has slaughtered many innocents, livestock, and hapless heroes who dared covet his hoard or his prince. But fear not, fair princeling, I shall protect you.”

“It is not against the dragon I want protection,” Loki laughed as he leaned into him. “And I am no prince or lord.”

“But how could that be!” Thor cried. His thick fingers traced the striking lines of Loki’s cheekbones and jaw. “You are too fair to be a peasant! Too accustomed to comforts to not have servants.”

“Well, I suppose technically, I am now…” Loki said. “The late king of the kingdom I just fled had no heirs before he died. Then one day government officials came to my tower and told me I am, in a very roundabout way, next in line to the throne? Despite the fact that I am hardly even a noble. But after them came others who wanted to bother me, and have been pursuing me since I left on my quest. I don’t know why some great lord didn’t just forcibly take the throne. I didn’t want it. Well, I did not want to obtain a kingdom in that way…”

“What shall you do when you reach the dragon’s lair?” Thor asked.

“That depends…” Loki answered coyly as his fingers trailed innocently across Thor’s collarbones.

Loki heard a soft growl escape the man. “On what? Depends—ahem—on what?” Thor prodded.

“On whether or not that dragon already has a princess,” Loki murmured.

Thor’s eyes were burning unnaturally blue as he stared at him. At length, he swallowed slowly, answered:

“I am quite certain he does not.”

At that moment, the clamor of heavy plate armor made the two look to the edge of the clearing. The leaves and fronds rustled and there emerged a knight upon an angry courser in colors matching the sigil on the man’s shield.

“Oh, Hel! Svadilfari?!” Loki hissed as he scrambled to his feet.

Thor rose with him and placed himself between Loki and the knight. “This is one of them?” Thor growled.

“Yes, he won’t bloody listen when I tell him I don’t want a rescue!”

But Thor was already marching towards the knight, and before Ser Svadilfari could even draw his sword, Thor had ripped him—six hundred pounds of armor and all—from his horse and hurled him back into the trees. Hair standing on end, Loki’s eyes followed the flashes of Thor’s blond hair through the trees, carrying the knight northward, towards a steep fall Loki had barely avoided earlier.

The meaty clangor of Ser Svadilfari’s collision with the rocks was disquieting, but Loki felt his muscles relax and the urgency in his mind begin to ease. He plopped back down onto the soft grass to await Thor’s return, feeling the anxiety in his racing heart turn to something warm and pleasant as the memory of Thor pulling the knight from his horse with his bare hands replayed in his mind.

As Thor reentered the clearing, Loki noticed two things: Thor appeared somehow differently than he had before pursuing Ser Svadilfari, and the late knight’s horse whickered and swiftly backed away from the blond man.  As Thor drew near, Loki saw why. Aha! Loki knew something was off about him: Thor had been wearing a glamour!

Thor’s neat, golden hairline was now interspersed with several pairs of smooth, arching, pale horns. Scales the same color as Thor’s skin were now visible on the edges of Thor’s face and neck, and on the outer sides of his arms. On the backs of the elbows and wrists, Loki saw small spikes reminiscent of a mature dragon’s jagged spires which guarded the joints. Thor’s neat nails were no more: instead his fingers terminated in dark, sharp claws.

When Thor came to stand before him with a smile on his lips and an inhuman glow in his eyes, Loki saw the rest: the formerly white sclera had become nearly black and his pupils were slitted. He could not discern exactly what it was, but the many small changes in Thor’s face infused his expressions with a perpetual note of hunger. Loki’s heart began thudding in his chest.

Thor was also now half a foot taller and broader than before. Double oof.

Loki hid away his reaction and smirked at the ‘man’. “What of the horse?” he asked innocently.

“Eh,” Thor shrugged, sparing the horse a reluctant glance, “I have never been good with horses.”

“And I can see why,” he said silkily, as he eyed Thor’s hairline. “Your glamour slipped.”

Thor flushed and took a hasty step back, clawed hands raised peaceably. “You need not fear, fair Loki, I have no intention of eating you! Unless you wish it,” he added with a playful wink.

Loki merely scoffed. As though he had any interest in a half-breed. What kingdoms were they known to terrorize?

“You are truly unafraid, dear?” Thor ventured hopefully.

“Of a Halfling? Now, if you were the dragon of this mountain himself…that would be another matter.”

Thor scowled, affronted. “What makes you think I am not?”

Loki leaned precariously close, until he was essentially whispering to Thor’s lips.

“A real dragon would be much…bigger.”

~

“Now go away. Or race me to the top of the mountain. Whatever will entertain you while I am busy.”

Thor bowed gracefully despite Loki’s dismissive tone. “Farewell for now, fair Loki, I shall await you at the top!” Thor promised with a smile so gallant it belonged on a knight.

He quit Loki’s company then, walking swiftly a fair ways into the forest until he would not be seen changing. He resumed his dragon form and cast a spell to compel Loki to look away for the duration of Thor’s flight to his lair. It was impossible to cast invisibility on something as large as a mature dragon, but misdirection Thor could indeed manage.

Thor alighted on the rugged, stone outcropping before one of the entrances to his lair. He tossed the cow in the direction of the other carcasses and turned back to peer down at the clearing where he had met Loki.

Handsome, spunky, surprising, graceful, and delicate. Thor’s scale-skin was all a-tingle and warmth flooded him from the tip of his tail to the tips of his highest horns. Loki had said all those things about delicate skin and loving towers, had Thor commit murder on his behalf, learned he was a dragon, and then would not consent to let Thor take him into his tower.

Thor began to purr deep in his throat. What a tease!

He drew a great, deep breath into his lungs and then released a series of white fire bursts into the blue sky, roaring and bellowing so his infernal cries shook the mountain. Perhaps that would draw Loki up a little faster.

Thor went into his lair to tidy up. If he did not busy himself with something, he was liable to fly down and abduct him…

~

Now that he knew for certain there was still a dragon atop the mountain, Loki was single-minded. He sketched runes of numbing onto his blistered feet. He cared not if his feet were torn open by the time he reached the top; once he had ensorcelled the dragon to his will, Loki would never need walk anywhere again!

He gathered his things and set off on the long, winding path that curled up the side of the mountain. Thor the Halfling might have been manipulated into simply taking him directly to the dragon’s lair, but for Loki’s purposes the getting there was half the spell that needed to be done. And he had better do it quickly, for who knew what other bloody hero might even now be chasing him down.

In about an hour’s time, he came upon a hag sitting on a stump outside of a hovel beside the path. Ah, the first one! He ran over to her but before he had even opened his mouth to speak, she turned her blind, milky eyes on him and intoned in the traditional manner of Magical Crones.

“What a fearsome dragon you are racing towards. To arrange your rescue from the knight, take this golden apple. When he arrives, offer it—“

“No! I will give you a golden basket that can hold countless golden apples!” Loki cried and knelt on the path to draw his alchemical glyphs.

The hag merely stared at him.

“Any golden object in the hands of a 'maiden' is directly symbolic of 'her' virginity, the sexual currency she uses to trade the knight for a rescue from whatever societal or worldly evil the dragon represents, remember?

“And you,” Loki continued, handing her the solid gold basket capable of containing an infinite number of golden apples, “are going to prevent that from happening.”

That shut her up. The hag blinked confusedly at him, but her gnarled hands gripped the basket anyway. Loki left her and continued on his way.

About an hour later, he came upon a middle-aged woman sitting outside a humble but clean cottage on the side of the path around the mountain.

“Young man, young man, are you sure you are headed in the right direction?” she asked. “Run back the way you came to find your hero! That way you can be rescued without soiling yours—“

“What are you offering me?” Loki demanded.

“What?”

“What solid gold object were you about to offer me as an exchange should the dragon capture me?”

“Why, this golden hairbrush!” she replied.

“Perfect,” Loki said and dug around in his pack until he produced a (literal) head of fine, golden hair and handed it to her. The hair was so magnificent and so pleasing to the eye, the woman caressed it reverently and marveled and only after some time did she notice what was attached to it.

“What?! What did you do? Who is this?!” she screeched.

“I am not a nice person,” Loki gritted out and stormed off down the path. Ugh, it was humid again, and he could have really used that hairbrush just then.

In about an hour’s time, he came upon another home, this time an attractive house with pleasant trimmings. But no one was outside. So Loki barged in the front door and turned out every door, cupboard, and pan via seidr until he found a young maiden hiding under the bed in the highest room in the house.

“Fear not, maiden, I am no hero,” Loki said and she rolled out from under the bed.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she said as she stood. “I have been hiding out here for years for fear of another come to ‘save’ me!”

“But you know there is a dragon living at the top of this very mountain. Why aren’t you in his protection?” Loki asked.

“Oh, because I’m not literally here, on the side of a mountain, dear,” the maiden said. “I’m just figuratively here. None of the magical woman figures you have encountered are actually living on this mountain!”

Loki rolled his eyes.

“You know, those knights and princes are so stupid,” she said. “Once one of them couldn’t remember my face. He needed a shoe to recognize me. That’s what put me off him! And they never listen if you tell them you don’t want to be saved!”

Loki made no comment. He squatted upon the ground and made his alchemical glyphs and chanted the catalogues of the Order of the Golden Dawn, and lo! He procured a solid gold embroidery hoop from his craft. He made no comment on the vaginal symbolism of the token and the maiden took it without a word of protest.

~

Six bloody awful hours later, Loki reached the top of the mountain. His feet were bleeding, the numbing effect of his seidr had long worn off and he didn’t have magic enough to soothe the agony in them now, his hair was a mess, he was covered in sweat, his robes were torn, and then his nails, ugh! Only at this altitude did the infernal humidity at last break and Loki gratefully took great gulps of air that did not make him feel as though he was on the verge of drowning. Speaking of drowning, he would soon die of thirst if this errand wasn’t completed soon.

Gods, he was tired. Far too tired to think clearly. Which was probably why he attempted to enter the dragon’s lair in that state.

Casting runes to muffle noise and stifle his scent, Loki crept carefully into the dragon’s lair through the gaping mouth of the cavern.

He prepared himself for a gloomy, harsh space, but found bright torches burning merrily along smooth, shining walls of stone. The enticing aroma of caramelizing meat wafted from a spit over the glowing hearth where he spied a prep table and several ingredients, pots, and utensils. There were bookcases, trunks, chests, lush carpets, inviting and cozy furniture vignettes, and a sumptuous bed with aquamarine silk and pale, gossamer curtains hanging from its four carven posts. Oh, and literal hills upon hills of gold, silver, and jewels. More light shone in from two distant cavern mouths leading outside. The multiple lair entrances created a natural breeze and were no doubt instrumental in maintaining the fresh, pleasant smell of the space.

This was nowhere in Loki’s books.

He stepped forward and heard a soft crunch under his foot. He looked down to find—a basket of yarn balls and half-finished knitting. Who knew princesses liked knitting so much?

Then his eyes settled on him: the great wings all but obscured the rest of the dragon’s body as he rested upon a great mound of valuables in the deepest, darkest reach of the cavern. The dragon’s scales were like glimmering sandstone and his skull was wreathed with many great, arching horns larger than a great buck’s antlers. He pulled his wings up to furl atop his back, revealing menacing spires the length of a grown man’s arms on the backs of all of his joints. The dragon turned its head and Loki’s gaze slid appreciatively over the high, sharp cheekbones and the aquiline snout. He had a fierce, noble, and pleasing face with startling blue eyes.

Blue eyes that burned and pierced the darkness, boring straight into the same inconspicuous corner of the cavern in which Loki happened to be standing.

Oh, shitfuck.

Loki began furiously sketching runes of protection and fire-proofing but the dragon startled him: instead of opening its great maw to cook Loki to a crisp, the dragon began shrinking. He continued shrinking, until all that remained was a very tall, brawny, and blond man, staring at him with keen interest.

Until Thor sat before him.

“Am I big enough for you now?” Thor asked, chuckling.

It was all just a bit too much. Loki’s knees buckled and he swayed.

~

The water smelled lightly of hibiscus and marigold, Loki dimly realized as he drifted back to consciousness. He was engulfed up to his shoulders in lovely, steaming hot water but the air about his exposed skin was pleasantly crisp and cool. He was cozily propped up on a nice pillow. Still groggy and exhausted from his travels, every inch of him wanted only to burrow down into his warm, pliant cushion--this warm, pliant cushion that was murmuring to him and pressing a goblet to his lips.

Loki groaned internally. This was Thor, wasn’t it? It was gradually coming back to him.

Hoping to delay his inevitable dealing with Thor the Man again, Loki obeyed the urging to drink and opened his mouth around the metal rim of the goblet offered to him. He drained that one and then three more goblets of cool, fresh water were pressed upon him. Then Loki snuggled back down and tucked his head under Thor’s chin without once ever opening his eyes, as though this would keep reality at bay.

It did not work.

“It is good to see you stirring at last,” came Thor’s kindly rumble.

Loki made pleased sounds as Thor began scratching his back. Loki shifted a little and realized he was naked.

“Getting a head start, are we?” Loki sneered.

“Ah, then next time you are unconscious and dirty, I will put you in the bath with your clothes on. And you cuddled up all on your own. I had no objections,” Thor said, giving him a gentle squeeze.

Loki cracked an eye and peered about his surroundings, noting the pleasant furnishings and welcoming ambience despite his expectations for a cavern. He was safe, warm, and cared for. Annoyingly so, as Thor pressed another goblet of water to him.

Then he realized something else.

“This isn’t a bathtub, Thor. This is a Viking longboat.”

“You are correct.”

“But why did you fill a Viking longboat with steaming, flower oil-infused bathwater?”

“Because this is my bathtub. And your poor, abused skin...”

Loki rolled his eyes.

“This ship is solid gold, you know,” Thor said. “It was actually some Viking jarl’s elaborate tomb, but I dug it up and hauled it here. Do you like it?”

Well, it was rather novel and suitably grand. He could consent to bathe here again, Loki decided.

“Did you comb, wash, and condition my hair, too?” Loki snickered.

“Yes, I did.”

Loki frowned. “What, truly?”

“I deal with princess-type people. Now what level of maintenance do you suppose such people are?” Thor chuckled. “I also know myriad court dances, the names of all different manner of flowers and fragrances, cuts and styles of dress, and types of jewelry. Princes and princesses are quite educational.”

Loki sat up and looked upon his surprising host. He had such appealing blue eyes and such golden skin, flecked with scales at the edges of his face…

Loki’s heart shuddered and his eyes slid helplessly over the scales, the spikes, and the crown of horns on Thor who was not really The Man but The Dragon of The Mountain. Oh, fuck, it was only a matter of time before Thor devoured him, unless Loki could enchant him!

Loki took a large step back from his emotions and attempted to make normal conversation. At least until he found a way out of this mess.

“It surprises me that a dragon would be so accustomed to bathing,” Loki teased.

“Oh! But I must! Bright arterial blood looks divine against my scales when they are clean. Red is my best color.”

Thor pulled Loki back against his chest, cooing. “Oh, dear, you are shaking! Fear not, I slew the knight who pursued you up the mountain. You are safe with me.”

Oh, my gods. This dragon was a sadist who liked to play with his prey before he ate them!

“Here, some wine to calm your nerves, sweetling,” Thor said, offering him a new goblet. Loki drank it, grateful for some pleasantness before his possible end.

“Thank you, but I mustn’t overstay my welcome!” Loki said brightly as he rose to his feet in the ship-tub. But he hissed in sudden, blinding agony as his damaged feet set down on the ship’s floor. Instantly, Thor’s arms were wrapping around him and pulling him back down to rest on his lap once more.

“I thought you said the water was supposed to help my skin, not worsen it!” Loki snapped.

“Oh, shh, shh, darling,” Thor cooed, “It will, but you came to me more hurt than you apparently realize. The soles of your feet were cut and bleeding openly. Lie back now and just wait, little human. The solution in the water will have you healed up in about two days.” Thor began petting him.

Loki blushed in a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. Damn his receptiveness to coddling! And damn Thor for being so adept at it! Even the instinctual fear burning in his veins was fading somewhat from Thor’s ministrations.

Having experienced how badly wounded his feet were, Loki suddenly felt tender all over. When Thor tightened his arms about him, Loki eased against his comforting body. When Thor encouraged him to eat, Loki accepted the platter of cold meats and breads without a fight. When Thor offered him more wine, Loki drank readily. Weak with fatigue, he curled up on Thor’s lap and his host wrapped an arm beneath Loki’s knees to ensure his injured feet made no contact with the hard surfaces of the ship.

Damn it all, he was as particular as a princess.

“You are surprisingly gentle for a dragon,” Loki murmured against Thor’s neck.

Thor chuckled. “Doing your reading by the same men who murder my kin and steal what makes us happy, hm?” He gave Loki a gentle squeeze. Despite his sharp claws, Loki felt no pain for how carefully the dragon angled his fingers.

“I am not unusual in that regard, fair Loki. There are some dragons who are indeed the very embodiment of cruelty, but I am gentle with those people and things I enjoy. I enjoy you, little human.”

Loki smiled, some warmth spreading in his chest. “Oh, and I suppose you take not a bit of sadistic glee with those whom you do not enjoy? Knights like Ser Svadilfari?”

Thor grinned and his tail began churning the water. “I do love a good maiming… Or a battering. Or bursting from the forest and startling all the cavalry and watching the horses flee, half the riders just as panicked as their mounts…” he said with a dark chuckle.

Loki’s lips quirked upward to hear the dragon speak of his innate violence. Loki had more in common with Thor than he originally thought. Well, he’d originally thought Thor was a dullard and a man, so…never mind.

Still, Loki was a human to this creature; that he was prey and Thor was predator was innate knowledge in Loki’s blood. It was now difficult to imagine Thor devouring him, and yet the last of Loki’s primal fear remained in his gullet.

Unable to be completely at ease or on guard with Thor, Loki decided to keep his runes of self-defense in mind, ready to use the instant anything went ill with the dragon. In the meantime, he would savor these comforts freely offered.

“Thor?” Loki murmured into Thor’s neck. “Wrap your arms a little tighter.”

Thor readily obliged.

~

A strange and rhythmic rumbling awoke Loki from his slumber. A few rays of moonlight streamed in from the nearest opening to Thor’s lair and the meager light was caught in the gossamer curtain around the bed in which he lay. Loki’s scan of the lair when he first entered came to mind and he drew his admiring hand over the aquamarine silk of his bedding. He felt tiny, firm bumps or ridges in the fabric, and he squinted to find the top sheet embroidered with a pattern of silver leaves interspersed with golden berries.

His nightclothes were not his own. They were soft like pure cotton and as light as the sheets. Thor must have dried and dressed him before putting him to bed here. Warmth pooled in Loki’s belly and he smiled.

He fingered the sheer, ivory curtain and pulled the cord to draw the fabric back to the bedposts. Loki crawled to the side of the bed where the rumbling was loudest and peered over to find the source: Thor the Dragon lay slumbering in his full, true form with his massive head resting on his great, vicious talons. His nostrils glowed with the inner fire eternally burning deep within his immense chest and little puffs of smoke rose with his every exhalation.

Loki crawled around the bed, looking over at each side to see. Thor the Dragon was huge. One side of the great bed was blocked off by a veritable wall of dragon torso as high as Loki’s collarbones when he stood on his knees on the mattress.

Thor had curled himself around the bed. If an intruder tried to harm or abduct Loki in the night, Thor would be woken first.

Loki smiled as he crawled back to the side nearest Thor’s head. He extended a curious hand down to the dragon’s reptilian muzzle. He traced the edges of the scales, ridges, and spikes with a finger and pressed the palm of his hand lightly between the two glowing nostrils to feel the warmth. Oh, Thor burned hot even in sleep.

Abruptly, the glowing blue eyes opened and fixed upon Loki. Thor butted his nose against Loki’s palm and licked it. He released a soft snort against his hand and then settled back down to sleep.

Loki remained frozen in that position for a long while. He marveled: There he was, surrounded and deep within a dragon’s lair, and he felt serene.

Smiling, Loki slipped back beneath the covers and lay on the side closest to Thor’s head. He fell asleep to the sound of Thor’s rumbling.

~

Loki woke to the mingling aromas of breakfast meats and freshly baked bread. He moaned as he burrowed into the decadent pillow in his arms. It was dense, heavy, and soft, almost like a lover.

He cracked an eye open when he felt something light drop onto his legs. There Thor stood—horns, spikes, claws, and a tail—laying out clothes on the duvet.

“Good morning, my prince,” Thor said with a chuckle. Loki gave not a bean about the pet name and he stretched and sat up to see what his host had brought him. He found a luxurious green silk bliaut with a wide panel of gold embroidery set like a necklace around the neckline and repeated on the sleeve edges and skirt hem. Thor gestured to the floor and Loki peered down to see a pair of gray silk slippers, lined with rabbit fur and decorated with more embroidery.

“Although, your feet are probably still too injured to walk today,” Thor said, shrugging as he returned to the hearth. His spiky tail swayed rhythmically behind him.

Loki watched him closely as he gathered food items onto a platter. Thor had foregone the ‘human’ guise in favor of something that was merely humanoid: he had his spiky, reptilian bits and appendages, but otherwise his form was the shape of a human man, albeit a distinctly large one.

Loki hummed and began changing into the garb Thor had lent him. He closed up the long line of buttons on the back of the bliaut with seidr.

Thor returned with a pitcher and a tray of breakfast precisely the moment after Loki finished dressing himself. Loki breathed deep the enticing smells of meat, salt, oil, and bread. Oh, and his mouth watered with want when he laid eyes on the fresh oatcakes.

“You didn’t honestly bake those breads yourself?” Loki asked as he began slathering almond butter and honey on an oatcake.

“Indeed, no. A hunter who lives on the mountain comes up to help me with ‘hospitality’ sometimes. One of Sif’s former princess-type people. He is an impressive baker.”

Loki closed his mouth around the oatcake and he groaned happily. He made quick work of it and began tearing a bun in half and filling it with sausage.

“Who is Sif?” Loki asked.

“A lifelong friend and ally,” Thor answered with pride. “We were hatchlings together. My mother found her egg—the parents were gone or murdered—and raised us together. My relatives have gatherings or reunions every few years when we catch up. I think Sif is terrorizing some part of Vanaheim now…”

Thor picked at a sausage until Loki finished his breakfast.

“May I show you my home?” Thor asked brightly. Loki nodded and let Thor pick him up. He stifled his snickering as Thor proceeded to carry him around on this friendly, luxury home tour. Loki was not about to pass this up—not if he got to sample said luxuries as it seemed.

And Thor’s home was nothing if not replete with luxuries. The sheer contents of his most obvious hoard were unspeakably glittering and gorgeous and they spent many minutes staring in silent bedazzlement at a medium lockbox full of about eighty bright and brilliant gemstones of different colors and cuts, among other things. But he also showed Loki his many, well-preserved bookcases filled with popular, classical, and rare books; various oddments and implements of magical significance; cozy living spaces; beautiful mirrors; fine pieces of porcelain; a handful of paintings; and musical instruments from around the world. Thor smiled when he caught Loki openly lusting after his square dulcimer, just like the one he remembered his mother playing when he was a child. And while Thor showed no inclination to go in this direction, Loki’s eye was nevertheless drawn to an unlit alcove filled with four great wardrobes. A door on one had swung open for want of a lock and Loki spied within at least seven gowns of different sheen, shape, and color. With an amused smile threatening at his lips, Loki returned his attention to Thor.

“Have you ever considered skylights, Thor? Perhaps stained glass?” Loki asked as he stared up at the cavern roof full of stalactites. “Or would the weight of the mountain shatter them?”

“I hadn’t thought of it before, but I have no doubt it would be beautiful,” the dragon said, gazing up at the dark ceiling.

As Thor’s gaze was directed upward in contemplation, Loki cast again the runes to bind Thor to his will--but he felt them die away instead of latching and surging in effect, and the casting was for naught. Loki hid away his frustration and let Thor carry him to the gold Viking longboat again for a better look at it.

Thor returned Loki to the bed and set him up with extra pillows and blankets, books on seidr and music, a tray of breads and cheeses, a pitcher of water, the square dulcimer, and a “small,” as Thor quaintly put it, chest of assorted, valuable baubles with which he might entertain himself. He told Loki to call if he needed anything and asked him not to undo the medicine’s healing work on his feet yet.

Then he simply left.

Alone and unsupervised in a dragon’s lair. Loki eyed the many things Thor had left him with open hunger.

A greedy smile spread like a weed over Loki’s face as he reached for the dulcimer. He perched the body of the instrument upon his lap and began feeling his way back to the familiar spots on the board. It had been a very, very long time.

~

A couple of hours later, Thor reappeared at Loki’s bedside.

“Did you enjoy the books and baubles?” Thor asked.

Loki smiled lazily up at him over the cover of his book. “I have never enjoyed convalescence quite this much,” Loki replied. He set his book aside and stretched.

“Now is the best time to treat your feet again. Shall I draw you a full bath or a foot bath?”

“A footbath, please,” Loki replied.

Thor went to prepare the water. He returned not too long later to carry Loki to the bath. This time, only a small section of the longboat was filled with hot water. It smelled mildly of hibiscus and marigold as on the previous night, which Loki assumed was the fragrance of the medicinal solution in the water.

Thor set Loki down on a large cushion beyond the raised wood containing the bathwater. Loki watched apprehensively as Thor began unraveling and slicing away the foot bandages with his claws, but the dragon was conscientious and not once did his claws come into contact with Loki’s damaged, inflamed skin. Without looking at the state of his feet, Loki pulled up the hem of his bliaut and gingerly placed his feet in the water.

“How does the temperature feel?” Thor asked as he sat down beside him.

“Very nice. How do they look?”

Thor leaned forward to examine them. “Significantly better than last night. All of the open wounds have closed and there is plenty of raw, new skin. After this soak, you will be ready to walk by tomorrow morning.”

Loki hummed and leaned back on the large cushion. He pointed his face to the ceiling and stared at the stalactites above high him. So many and each large enough to kill. Loki marveled that none fell, but his gaze kept sliding to his host. His green eyes slid with growing appreciation over the sharp points and the few glimmering scales. Even the dark claws made heat pool deep in Loki’s belly.

Loki tried to fluff the part of the cushion beneath his head without success, and Thor slid his tail under the cushion to prop it up and relieve Loki’s neck.

He brushed his hand against the side of the dragon’s tail. It was thick and covered in an even coat of fine, glimmering scales. He slid his palm over the broad side of the tail, feeling the tension in the contracting muscles beneath the scale-skin.

A tickle on his neck made Loki yelp and he turned to find the tapered end of Thor’s tail wiggling against his neck. Loki chuckled and gently grabbed the end with one hand while he continued to feel with the other.

His fingertips paused over the prominent ridge of scales where the spikes protruded on the tail.

“Thor, how safe are we here?” he asked.

Thor turned and looked him in the eye. “We are very safe here, fair Loki. Knights and heroes rarely climb my mountain anymore.”

Loki absently sucked his lower lip in his sudden apprehension.

“They just keep coming,” Loki said. “Wherever I have traveled, knights and heroes soon follow, as though it was a law of the universe.”

“Well, if they come here, you need not go with them,” Thor murmured. “And if they will not listen to you, I will make them listen to me.”

Loki smiled at the dragon and gripped his tail tighter. Thor smiled tenderly back at him.

“You do like it here, don’t you, my prince?” Thor asked shyly.

Warmth was filling Loki’s chest. He curled Thor’s tail around his fingers and he sighed contentedly.

“I cannot imagine a place I would rather be,” Loki admitted.

Thor’s smile broadened and a thought occurred to Loki. He smirked as he toyed with the end of the tail.

“So what is it with you and delicate damsel-type people? A powerful, durable dragon should have no sympathy for fragile things!” Loki jabbed playfully.

Thor only pursed his lips and looked away. But was that—Loki squinted, peering closely at his cheeks—it was! Loki spied a bit of pink in his skin!

Loki smiled viciously. “Oh, and how good at doting you are, my huge, strong dragon: coddling and kissing and cosseting me!”

Thor’s expression contorted as the fire spread from his cheeks and down his neck. “I’m only being a dutiful host…” he mumbled to his knees.

“Do not sell your gold for a nut, Thor, you were a devoted, tender host. Bandaging my feet and dandling me like a child in the bath. I remember a blond man telling tales of a fearsome beast atop this mountain just yesterday…”

“It’s a common trait!” Thor growled and dug his knuckle into Loki’s ribs. Loki cackled and slapped his tickling hand away.

“Oh? Are you trying to tell me something about dragons, Thor?” Loki continued, his voice obnoxiously sweet. “Be a dutiful host and elaborate for me.”

Thor’s face was bright red and his nostrils were flared. “Dragons come in all sorts,” Thor began haltingly, “but it is not uncommon for…some dragons…” He turned a deeper shade of red. “It is not unusual for dragons to…enjoy—“

“Someone gets his rocks off from spoiling dainty, fainting princesses?” Loki snickered, but the look on Thor’s face set him off and his cackling echoed through the cavern. It was too rich! What a big, terrible beast!

Thor was plainly not amused. He huffed and hunched over, looking anywhere but Loki.

Ah, well, time to be sweet.

Loki trailed his hand high, high up Thor’s tail, watching the dragon jump at the intimate touch. Loki brought the end of the tail to his cheek and nuzzled it.

“Why so shy? I like you,” Loki purred.

“Evidently not,” Thor grunted. He spared Loki only a begrudging glance, but Loki knew how to make his eyes pretty and his lips inviting. Thor’s face softened as Loki continued to stroke his tail.

“I have never met anyone as thoughtful as you, Thor,” Loki confided quietly. “No one in my life has ever been so sweet to me.”

Thor merely huffed in reply. Loki’s admiring hand strayed to finger the spikes and scales on Thor’s elbow and the dragon softened. He uncrossed his arms so his wrist was brushing against Loki’s hip and Loki’s ingratiating hand strayed downward to trace the grooves between the muscles and veins.

Feeling invincible, Loki let his fingers stray over the smooth back of Thor’s hand and digits. The dragon gently looped his middle finger around two of Loki’s.

Loki’s stomach took this opportune moment to loudly sound its need and the moment was over, although Thor was no less kind for it.

Thor picked up a towel and began gingerly drying and bandaging Loki’s feet as he explained the options for their supper.

~

The evening was threatening to turn chilly, but the merry blaze in the hearth staved off the temperature outside. A little too well, Loki thought as he loosed several buttons in his bliaut and let the garment fall down his shoulders. Thor’s eyes followed the curves of exposed skin but he made no comment; he had also chosen the cut of his clothes to put his features and skin on display for Loki's enjoyment. Loki took another bite of meat and gods, Thor had flame-seared this filet mignon beautifully! The outside was dark and caramelized but the inside red and dripping. He took another swallow of wine from his jewel-encrusted goblet. Complex, sour, and oat-y, just as Loki liked it.

“More?” Thor asked, his hand already reaching for the bottle. Loki demurred and Thor refilled his own goblet, solid sterling silver adorned solely with white pearls. He had stolen it from royalty on an isle renowned for its pearls, if Loki remembered correctly.

Loki was learning a lot about Thor the Dragon. When he wasn’t massacring villages, guarding his precious hoard, and carrying off large livestock for dinner, he liked to work out, knit, and study gemology. Thor even had business relationships with several renowned jewelers throughout the world.

“You knit?” Loki said incredulously, eyeing the dragon-man’s claws.

“Oh, yes, my knitting is well received throughout my family,” Thor replied cheerily. “Especially my tea-cozies. I send one to my father every St. George’s Day!”

Loki smiled at the dragon’s glee and silently summoned the runes of binding once again. It would be his last attempt. Even if his heart was no longer in enslaving this creature to his whims, Loki felt he should give it one more go.

Loki closed his eyes and charged the runes. They glowed brightly in his mind’s eye—indeed, brighter and brighter until they blazed. Then he opened his eyes onto Thor and released the runes of enchantment on his exhale.

Not a god damn thing happened. Loki sighed; he was not half so skilled or clever as he thought.

“Tell me, fair Loki: Why were you truly on my mountain?” Thor asked mildly.

Loki pressed his lips into a thin line. Well, it was time. And he was confident Thor would not devour him either way.

“Well…I want a dragon. With a high, inaccessible lair. So I can be left alone.”

“Left alone with said dragon?” Thor clarified.

“Yes. I hate most people, I am an antisocial, unpleasant person”—Thor, bless him, made argumentative sounds at that—“and I want to enjoy the perks of having a huge, scaly, homicidal bodyguard.”

Thor smirked darkly. “Like the groveling?”

“And the screaming!” Loki gushed.

“Watching hordes of panicked fools flee before you?” Thor growled.

“Or prostrate themselves, praying for your mercy,” Loki hissed.

“Breaking the mightiest foes those weaklings can produce to thwart you,” Thor purred.

“Watching their stupid, arrogant faces crumble,” Loki murmured rapturously.

Thor rapped his claws sharply on the table. The muscles in his burly arm shifted and swelled with the movement.

“This is very similar to the traditional arrangement between dragons and princess-type people when the latter party is consenting,” Thor commented. “It only works when the needs of both parties are met by the nature of the relationship: I am the big, terrifying beast that mauls things and protects you; you are my compellingly alluring 'princess' in the tower, the chief beauty among my treasures. I get off on murdering things to protect you—and murdering things in general—and you get off on me murdering things for you. And being humped by a gigantic, murderous beast from the bowels of Hel.”

Well! Loki grinned. That didn’t sound at all ba—wait. He’d read dragon anatomy books! Thor was divine, but what exactly was Loki getting into himself? Er—

Thor gave Loki a rakish grin. As those burning blue eyes bored into Loki, the table moved slightly.

“Is that, ah,” Loki cleared his throat and gestured to the great, fat Thing lurking beneath the table, “even feasible?”

Thor's expression was downright lascivious. He opened his mouth and a long, prehensile tongue slipped forth to trace a wet line across Loki’s jaw. Then the tongue swelled appreciably in a demonstration of the wonders it might achieve in tender places.

Loki bent sideways in his chair to peer beneath the table. HA! Liar! It wasn’t that big!

He sat up feeling quite faint. It was bigger.

“And you think that’s going to—“ Loki began.

“It will.”

“Well, I don’t really see how!”

“In time.”

“Do you even possess sufficient lubricant?”

“Self-lubricating!” Thor chirped.

The dragon’s eyes remained unnervingly locked on Loki’s.

A confusing mixture of adrenaline and glee was rising in Loki’s stomach. He laughed nervously. “As daunting as it is, I think your cock proves the existence of kind and benevolent gods,” he joked.

“Some cultures worship dragons as gods,” Thor said with a shrug.

“Ah!” Loki squeaked. “That might be why!”

Loki smoothed his shaking hands over his clothes and took a deep, steadying breath. Dignity at all times.

“WELL, IF WE ABSOLUTELY MUST!” Loki blurted and flung himself at Thor.

Thor caught him and tugged him down into his lap, cupping his hand behind Loki’s neck as their mouths came together. Loki parted wide to coax their kissing deeper. He ground his ass against the immense Thing lying upon Thor’s thighs; his spidery fingers dug into the blond hair and tugged; he bit and clawed and grasped, but still Thor did not speed to his pace.

Loki broke away with a frustrated growl, hissing, “More, Thor, I want you.” Thor’s hands tightened on his hips, his nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened, and yet:

“Let us be slow, little human, you’ve never taken a dragon before.“

Loki tugged him close to hiss into his ear. “Be yourself,” Loki ordered.

There was only the clangor as the table’s contents were thrown to the floor and then Loki was lying on the tabletop instead, pinned and flattened by Thor’s weight alone, his legs forced wide around his thickly muscled waist.

Loki gasped but Thor was already devouring his lips and invading his mouth. The serpentine tongue darted forth, scoping him out as Thor ground his hips down upon their clothed erections. The table gave a piteous groan under their combined weight, but Loki paid it no mind as he returned Thor’s bruising kisses in equal measure. He slid his hands over the broad, muscled shoulders and back, marveling at the restless energy thrumming beneath the skin.

“Give it to me,” Loki urged, “show me how fierce you are, dragon.” He raised his hands again to tangle with the golden hair but his wrists were abruptly thrown back and pinned above his head. Thor pulled back enough to roar down at him, baring all the teeth that had somehow grown sharper since he last smiled, before descending again to claim his lips.

Thor ground his hips roughly down against him, growling, “Mine,” into his mouth. Loki crooned, wrapped his legs around his dragon, and squeezed to spur him on.

Yes, yes, I—Loki babbled against his lips, wanting Thor to consume him. “Claim me, make me yours,” he moaned, his hips trying to buck against Thor’s tremendous weight. He peppered the dragon’s mouth with wanting kisses, trying to show his acceptance, and Thor gave a satisfied croon.

He felt Thor’s hands slide beneath him to squeeze his ass. “I will mount you until you are so loose you can take me in my natural form, and then I will mate you until you are swollen full with my eggs, until I have made your belly so heavy you cannot be rid of them,” he growled.

The words lit an unexpected blaze between his legs and Loki gushed, arching into his dragon. Forgetting the claws, Loki grabbed Thor’s wrist and guided his hand between his legs and under the hem of his clothing. “Touch me, make me open for you—“ he groaned against the dragon’s lips.

“Take off your clothes,” Thor rasped into his ear before pulling back. “Remove them for me.” Loki cast his buttons undone with a word of seidr and swiftly shrugged himself out of his coverings while Thor reared, muscles and veins bulging, as he clawed his own clothes off like molt. Loki moaned at the sight and his legs reflexively spread wider to receive him, but when Thor descended again to smother Loki’s body with his own, the table collapsed.

Before the shock could fully register, Thor had already hauled him up and was carrying him over to the hills of gold coins and valuables. Thor threw him down onto the mound and made an inhuman, guttural growl until Loki parted his legs. Then the dragon descended to coil his arms around his thighs, his serpentine tongue flicking out against the underside of Loki’s swollen cock. He yelped and raised his hips in wordless begging and the tongue came out again to wrap snuggly around the shaft and squeeze. Then Thor nuzzled between the cleft below and sucked the little furl of skin until it began to open for him. He slid his long, slim tongue into the narrow passage and curled upwards and wriggled, inching towards the desired spot until Loki gasped and clenched around him. The human’s reaction set sparks tickling in his lungs and Thor burrowed deeper, beginning to force his tongue to swell with blood. He hummed into the skin as he alternated between thrusting back and forth and wriggling the tip against the prostate.

“Thor,” Loki whined as his hands caught in the golden hair. He pressed his hips back against the dragon’s mouth as he tried to get him deeper. He summoned a mirror and positioned it this way and that with waves of his hand until he could watch.

Loki’s eyes became three shades darker and a ripple of pleasure spread through him as he saw how loose Thor had made him. He watched the push and pull of the smooth, wet tongue the color of dying blood, saw the steady pulsing of it as it slowly inflated inside of him.

“Thor, I want more,” he whined. Surely he would agree to go faster?

The dragon growled, sending more lovely reverberations into Loki’s flesh, and the tongue abruptly doubled in girth. Loki gasped at the sudden stretch, but his muscles yielded and he rocked harder against the intrusion. Thor’s tongue was pressing more forcefully against his prostate now—or was it simply that there was more to press against it?—and his thighs began to tremble. He watched the mirror still as more blood surged into Thor’s tongue and widened his opening even more.

Loki groaned—oh, but this teasing tongue only made him want the real thing.

“Make me ready, I want you inside already,” Loki urged. Surely he was open enough now? He angled the mirror to get another look at Thor’s cock and—oh, nope-nope-nope!

“Keep going, gods damn it,” Loki begged as he tugged at the dragon’s horns, “but do it faster!”

~

It felt strange to be so open between his legs, but there was a fire in his belly as he ground his hips up against his dragon. Loki crooned and tilted his head to watch the mirror: Thor had grown over a foot taller whilst being distracted by his little hole. Thor was gorgeous, the sight of his huge body caging him in alone caused pleasure to blossom in Loki’s belly as he looked upon the reflection, but as the swollen head of the draconic cock brushed against the skin above his navel, he began to panic.

“Loki, touch me, touch the part of me that frightens you,” Thor urged.

Shakily, Loki reached down to obey and tried fruitlessly to wrap his hands around it and found—oh!

Loki raised his head to peer down at the pulsing organ in his hands, an amazed smile on his face. He squeezed gently, playfully, rolling the outer layer over in his hands as his fear turned back to excitement. Thor’s cock was no smaller than it looked, but it was sheathed in a plush, pillowy layer of tissue an inch thick. Covered in a soft, stretchy layer of sand-colored scales, this outer layer was soft and inviting, dense enough to ensure ample padding even in a tight squeeze yet with plenty of give for comfort, for Loki’s benefit.

“A little less scary now?” Thor asked. Loki laid back on the heap of coins and gave him a heavy-lidded gaze as he slowly, deliberately began to apply broad strokes along the length with both hands. The dragon’s lids fluttered and his breathing grew raspy.

“Easy,” Thor hissed into his ear, “I want to mate with you.”

Loki purred as the viscous slick on the cock set his skin to tingling, then warming—and then the skin of his palms felt as though it was thrumming with a low but constant pleasure at any point of contact.

Thor backed up and guided himself to the slick, loosened entrance and slowly, very slowly, began to press inside. The plush layer and pleasant tingling aside, Loki gasped and began to shake as his insides were forced to part around it.

When it was at last fully sheathed, Loki was rigid.

“Just breathe!” Thor urged, “It will be well, it will get better very soon, just breathe!”

So Loki forced himself to draw breaths, one after another, as his body adjusted. He began to tremble as he tried to shift for greater comfort and found that Thor’s cock was so large that he could no longer move his hips. His panic returned and his heart went to hammering in his chest.

“Pray tell me,” Loki said shakily, “how exactly this is supposed to feeoh—“

Thor’s secretions turned all they touched to a dull, bone-deep goodness and want unfurled within Loki as he abruptly realized this was his favorite sensation. No longer was there a distinction between contact with his prostate and any other place he brushed inside. Loki’s eyes were blown black, his mouth agape, and his flush spanned from his face to his nipples as he began using his arms and legs to fuck himself on the dragon’s cock.

Thor groaned and braced, plainly trying to resist Loki’s invitation until he was certain the human was ready. And yet the sight of Loki relaxing into the moment was powerfully erotic.

“That’s it, give yourself up to your beast,” Thor growled, panting shallowly against his neck, “fuck yourself on me, open for your monster.”

Loki moaned and mouthed at his dragon’s face, trying to kiss him, trying to find the magic button or move he need do to turn the dragon’s aching stillness into action. In the end, Loki’s sudden mewl at a sudden throbbing in Thor’s cock was the only thing required.

Thor released a sudden shout and he rammed himself in to the hilt. He began moving, parting Loki’s insides with his draconic dick, and it was then he began to lose control. Now that he was inside his perfect, clenching heat, Loki’s little noises were like mutterings of seidr: each cry was calling Thor deeper into his lust stupor, reducing his awareness to simply touch, sight, and sound. With each whimper and moan, he felt his scales spreading, his claws lengthening, and his body slowly beginning to revert to its natural size.

The pace of his thrusts steadily increased and when Loki began wailing, Thor began thrashing. His new prince’s cries were whipping him into a glut of thunderous energy and ardor and he could dimly tell the massive spikes on his tail had returned from the awful, metallic clangor that sounded wherever his tail smashed. Better yet was the feeling of Loki’s arms around him: how his limbs alternatively clutched him tightly in joy and trembled from the strain of withstanding Thor’s mating. The littleness of the body taking so much of him made Thor’s insides clench with pleasure and pent up energy and he began to roar out the excess to the cavern.

As the dragon’s thrusts grew more forceful, some small part of Loki realized he wasn’t quite sure which way was up. But he wanted to show Thor his pleasure, wanted him to read it on his face, and he struggled against the dizziness, the overwhelming fullness in his lower body, and the lack of blood flow to his brain just to make eye contact with his dragon. Loki let him see his glazed eyes, the thick sheen of sweat and the hair sticking to his face, the too bright, feverish flush on his face. He watched, gasping and sobbing, as what was left of Thor’s blue irises all but disappeared and he leaned down to claim his mouth. Loki tried to push back to meet Thor’s snapping hips but he could not, Thor’s cock was simply too big, Loki’s movement and strength too limited, and so he could only brace against the force being exerted against his ass.

The strength rapidly fading from his body, Loki’s head hung back down and he stared dazedly into his summoned mirror. The sight caused another ripple of pleasure to move through him: there Thor was, the breadth of his shoulders now dwarfing Loki, as he snarled and spat, fangs bared, in his rutting. He was entirely covered in scales the color of sandstone, ominous spikes were erupting over his joints, his forearms were nearly the size of Loki's thighs, and his claws had been replaced by sharp talons eight inches long, one of which was tucked neatly around Loki’s throat.

Thor shifted and changed the angle of his hips and oh, it was sublime for how Loki’s eyes rolled at the feeling. When he came back to himself, he saw his own mouth opened in a silent scream at both the rushing bliss of Thor’s rutting and the adrenaline at the sight of the spiked tail crashing down in an eruption of coins only two feet from his head.

Thor was panting and grunting softly over him as Loki took his tongue into his mouth and began to suck again. The dragon groaned and shivered and Loki tightened his legs around his waist, pushing his heels into his back to urge him faster. Thor growled—or was that a purr?—and he began to speed up until Loki’s bliss was too great to leave enough presence of mind even for kissing and he buried his face in his dragon’s neck to muffle his cries as he accepted all that was given him.

Thor withdrew, flipped Loki over onto all fours, wedged his knees between Loki’s to force them even wider, and hooked his arms around the little human to lock him in place to be mounted. With a guttural, echoing snarl, Thor pressed inside, filling his newest treasure, and began to rut properly. His shallow thrusts came hard and fast, the both of them making fraught cries between the wet slapping of their skin. Loki was screaming in his arms, his body welcoming, milking his cock and Thor’s thoughts were all a wet dribble as he roared out his rising pleasure. He was getting close and as he felt his wings unfurling, dimly he realized his hips were now over twice as wide as Loki’s.

He felt Loki spasm beneath him, around him, and the sudden, sharp spike in pleasure ripped a glut of fire from Thor’s lungs into the air above them. Loki’s fevered cries of his spending were a summons to Thor and he felt the telltale clenching in his groin.

“Loki, I’m close,” the dragon rasped and another clench of Loki’s body made him bellow.

“Fill me,” Loki urged, “make me take it, fill me with as much come as—“

“Loki, you don’t understand!” Thor hissed as his thrusting became frantic.

“Give me everything, I’ll take it,” he begged.

No, he could not stave it off any longer: Thor tightened his arms around his prize, grunting, “Brace for the knot—“

“WAIT YOU KNOT?!”

“Mine,” Thor snarled as he bit the nape of Loki’s neck, covering the whole of his prince’s belly with a single hand as his climax crashed through him. He felt the knot form just within the ring of muscle at Loki’s entrance and he roared, so loud the cavern shook, as he pumped him full of come.





Within minutes, Thor’s hand was cupping a belly rounded and stuffed full with his seed. It was a tremendously satisfying sensation and Thor crooned softly down at his new prince and mate for taking so much from him.

“Yes,” Thor rasped, still gasping for breath, “sometimes I knot.”

“Oh,” was all Loki said, as he stared wide-eyed at their reflection.

~

For an easier cleanup, Thor had dragged them both to the longboat in time for his knot to shrink and for Loki to be relieved of his burden. Now back on the bed of coins, Thor reverted to his humanoid form and gave Loki a good cuddle.

Thor rested his chin upon his shoulder.

“Sooo…” he began, fluttering his blond eyelashes. “How do you feel about dresses?”

Loki stared at him. Into those glittering, giddy eyes. Into that face of unchecked mirth.

“Darling, my ass is a little too loose to be having this conversation right now.”

~

Two months later, the great dragon alighted in a clearing in the forest near the tower. He knelt to assist his rider’s dismount and shrank to something passably human, save for the many spiky and scaly appendages.

The two reunited with fingers, lips, and limbs a-tangle in their fraught farewell.

“I will send word to you—mm!—when I announce the day—the day of the tourney,” Loki murmured into the warmth of Thor’s mouth.

“Do you swear?” Thor rasped against his skin.

Loki kissed him again with all the strength he had. He gripped the back of Thor’s skull with all of his force to keep him there and gave his mouth to him. He made the clearing loud with the sounds of their farewell.

“I shall invite scores of knights to fight for me,” Loki assured him. Thor latched onto his neck and began some furious work there that set the sorcerer to crooning. Loki wrapped his arms around his dragon’s shoulders for support as his knees began to quake.

“They will gather and you will come and mow them all down. All those fools, you will rend them limb from limb for me. You will come and—“

“I will steal you—“ Thor growled against his neck.

“You will steal me,” Loki echoed. He mewled as Thor rolled his hips against his. “Paint the jousting field with their blood for me… I will send word…”

“Mmh,” Thor moaned into Loki’s mouth. “Promise me?”

“I promise,” Loki assured him. Thor nuzzled him as his burning eyes glowed and his demanding hands grabbed.

“Truly, Loki, you need but say the word and I will leave you in peace. No harm shall come to you if you have had a change of heart.”

Loki reclaimed his dragon’s mouth and pressed their bodies flush.

“I promise,” Loki swore breathlessly against his lips, “I promise, I do, I do! I will send word to you!”

With only great reluctance and self-control did Thor withdraw his lips and limbs from his lover. With a baleful cast upon his features, he retreated and resumed his true form. Loki ran to him and embraced his muzzle.

“Come; return and take me,” Loki urged as he kissed him. Thor rumbled in reply. He buried his snout in his chest, his sensitive nose drinking in the scent of him and their new egg. He nuzzled against the small bulge in Loki’s belly before forcing himself away and taking to the air.

Loki watched the dragon circle thrice overhead before turning northwest and soaring away.

His lips were swollen and his longing was already great as he reluctantly began walking back to his tower. His mood darkened at the thought of all the councilors and ‘heroes’ he must speak to in the coming weeks before the tourney. Loki groaned at the prospect. His dismay was only amplified by the luxurious past three months spent alternating between the sole company of the one person he enjoyed and blissful solitude.

Damn, it would be at least a month before he would see Thor again.

He adjusted the straps on his bag. His hand absently ghosted over his belly and the sensation made him pause.

Loki placed his hand over the little egg, the little piece of himself Thor had left behind with him.

It was still small enough that none should notice, yet large enough to make Loki smile.

Five Years Later

Thor alighted on the outcropping outside of their lair and flattened himself against the ground so Loki could dismount. Once Loki was a safe distance away, Thor stretched his wings to relieve the burning left from the long flight to the nearest trade city in their domain. He was still huffing with pleasure at how the guards had merely laid down their weapons at his approach, how the crowds had wordlessly parted for them, how the merchants had fallen over themselves to pay obeisance to Loki. Thor chuckled demonically. It never grew old.

Thor changed to his humanoid form and took his yarn to his knitting chair and resumed his craft. Loki went to his crafting table and poured fruitlessly over his equations and staged tools, spitting and muttering under his breath as his frustration built. He had spent three years tracking down a merchant who could actually supply a steady supply of moon root but for the past eight months the bloody, insufferable idiot had been unable to obtain even an ounce of the constituent.

“What a waste of a trip,” Loki hissed. He crushed an eagle skull in his hands.

Thor came up behind him and rested his chin on Loki’s shoulder.

“Not a waste. You obtained other constituents and I found yarn and a new gown,” he murmured soothingly.

But Loki would not be calmed.

Thor kissed his neck and wound his hands around the prominent bulge in Loki’s belly.

“Think of the egg,” Thor reminded him softly.

Loki spat at his words but he tried to breathe. Muscle tension and an egg made a poor combination.

Thor took him by the hand and led him to his knitting chair. Loki allowed the dragon to pull him down onto his lap. “Sit up straight for me,” Thor said. He then draped his latest project against Loki’s expecting belly.

Loki looked down at the unfinished green egg-cozy. How ridiculous. He grinned and chuckled heartily.

“You need to make it about two inches longer,” Loki commented.

The egg-cozy was removed and replaced by Thor’s large, clawed hands.

“Shall I find a knight to slaughter for your entertainment? That might cheer my little prince up, hm?”

Thor’s arms tightened. “Remember a fortnight ago when I pinned that ‘hero’ beneath my tail and made him watch as you took my cock?” he growled against Loki’s ear. Loki’s heart fluttered: the whites of the hero’s eyes, the terror and disbelief etched into his arrogant face, the feeling of Thor flooding him with come. Loki moaned.

“And after you spilled in me, your tail tore his head from his body,” Loki purred rapturously as Thor’s lips attacked his neck. He felt the tension and strength thrumming even now in Thor’s muscles.

With one clawed hand cupping Loki’s heavy belly, Thor began tugging impatiently at the hem of the sorcerer’s long robes.

“The gray Watteau gown should still fit,” Thor rasped. Loki nodded absently, his back arching as the dragon found his cock.

Loki spread his legs and crooned under Thor’s touches. Thor was all fire, and some of it had splintered off into Loki: it rose up in his cheeks and his lips as his darkening gaze settled upon their other three eggs resting safely by the hearth.

Unlike everyone else in their despotic dominion, Loki and Thor lived happily ever after.

The End.