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smolvenger · 5 months ago

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A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter 21 (Loki x Fem Reader Crossover Series, Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book, A Court of Mist and Fury and onwards. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: You are reunited with your husband. And a new key to defeating Grendel is revealed. Prompting the beginning of several journeys across time in Midgard. Starting in Buffalo, NY, 1901.

Word Count: 6K (make some tea)

Series Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ SMUT! SMUT at the beginning!(Masturbation, penis in vagina sex). Curse Words. Bullying. Mentions of violence. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped my radar. A plot hole that I will figure out how to fill later. Proceed with caution, but I take full responsibility for how I portray dark subject matter and if it is not done tastefully or well. If I miss anything that could be triggering, it is your responsibility to tell me as soon as possible so I can tag it here. Otherwise, enjoy!

DICK-tionary: Smut starts at "Loki....Loki, please, I need you," and ends at “Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded."

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Loki carried you to his bed.

No, it wasn’t just his bed anymore, you reminded yourself. It was your bed.

Laying you down on top of it, not caring for the stains of dirt and blood on your nightgown, he hovered gently over you. He pressed his lips to yours. His body pressing on top of you. You cupped his face and kept him close. Already your hips touching. You pulled in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him.

No more fire. No more blood. You needed tenderness. Intimacy. Wanting to forget your name, forget everything except him. To not feel the hilt of a blade. Instead, you felt his hand bunching up your skirt, exploring your leg again as if it was the first time he saw your care skin.

Reaching out your hand onto his, you led it up your body. Your skirt was left as you led him to touch you. You stopped the path on one of your breasts. You could hear the breath in him tighten as he felt it, bunching it up to see how the bodice of your gown was lowering. Wanting to show him more.

“Loki…please…please, I need you…” you begged.

He paused and released his hand.

“Shhh,” he hushed you.

One of his long fingers traced your cheek, going down from your neck to the collar of your nightgown. A tiny gasp came out of you as he dragged it down.

“No need to remind me, my dear. The way you react when I touch you- I know you need me…”

. You shivered as that one long finger went between your breastbone. His eyes greedily searching for your nipples, perked beneath the whiteness.

“My poor little wife, all alone out there without me…”

He lowered his finger’s trail to your stomach. He then went to beneath your skirt, feeling your leg again.

“How badly did she miss me, I wonder?”

Going up, just barely before your entrance. You felt your hips buck to him. A smile of deviousness graced your husband’s lips. You were getting wet between your legs, you felt your breath hitch and part of you tremble. Then he removed it.

“What a pitiful little gown you have on. Now that you’ll be in here every night, I’ll have you wearing ones of silk that cover even less. And only for me. Yet this…”

He undid the bodice of your nightgown and pulled it down over your shoulders, revealing your breasts.

“You may as well be naked in this! I may as well…”

He tugged it down and you helped him. Flicking it off to the floor. With a simple flick, your nightgown vanished and you were naked.

“Well, well- what do we have here?” he teased.

This time his hand caught your bare breast and squeezed it, a thumb over the nipple. You let out a moan.

“Tell me, my pet- did you miss me?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“Did you get wet at the thought of me? Of our little trysts?”

“I…I did…”

He went to your ear, barely kissing it as he whispered.

“Did you touch yourself then?” he whispered.

“Yes…”

He went to your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

“I would do it…alone…in my room…it would be night…I’d be lonely, I couldn’t sleep…and I would think of you….I’d think of the cabin. When you deflowered me. Then when you took me on the table. Or our wedding night..and I…I…I needed you and…and I remembered where you would touch me, so I…”

He took your wrist gently and moved it to your sex.

“Show me how…how would you touch yourself at night, alone in your bed…” he whispered.

With a breath, you slid one finger in, rubbing it against your swollen clit. You began to strum it at a steady rhythm, your hips moving to it. A moan escaped you. He watched greedily, smiling wide.

Your breath hitched. You felt something rise. You made the strumming faster, opening your legs wider.

“L-Loki- I’d-I’d think of you…think of you and…”

He grabbed your wrist and pinned it above you.

“Wait- wait,” he ordered.

The lungs in your air nearly halted. You were frustrated- so close to release. And here he was, as clothed as you were naked.

“There’s a certain sight you’ve been missing, my dear…and your poor little fingers could never quite recreate what we have here…let me fix both…”

With a tilt of his head, his clothes vanished as well. You took in his strong abdominals, the little dark hairs on his chest, his wide pectorals for his slim frame. His cock- large and so hard it touched his stomach.

Loki leaned closer. He pinned you down onto the bed. You felt his erection near you, grazing your skin, your body. He grabbed your legs and hoisted them up.

“I want you loud…your parents will know who gives their good little girl pleasure every night…I want you loud…I want every person in this castle to hear, and when you cum it’s my name you’ll be crying out- they’ll know who you married to…and no man in that muddy town and no man in that castle can lay hands on what is mine, hm? Because none can make her cum like I can…”

He stopped your hand, raising it back up. He teased your entrance and you felt yourself shiver.

“Loki…Loki please…just…just take me, fuck me- fuck me into this bed…”

He lowered himself. You eagerly pulled yourself and kissed his neck. That was where he was weak. He let out a groan as you did. Your hips met his. Your entrance grazed him.

“Please….just love me…fuck me…” you begged in whispers between kisses.

He hovered right where he would be inside you.

“Wait…” he rasped. You were shaking, desperate for him.

“Tell me you’re mine…and I’ll give you what you want…”

Part of you froze beneath him.

“Say it!” he ordered sharply.

“I-I-I’m yours!” you whispered.

He smiled.

“Good….good little wife…”

With one thrust he was inside you. Deep, a right angle, hitting past your clit. You moaned out.

“Yes-yes like that- Norns-I’ve missed this-I’ve missed you-Filling you-Feeling you around me, trying to have all of me- and doing it-” he groaned out.

He held up your legs and then slammed his hips in. You let out a cry. His pace increased.

“You-you wanted-wanted to be fucked?! Here-” he said.

With a gasp, he got fast. He was harsher than when he took your maidenhead in the cabin on a winter’s night. He began to pound into you. Your breasts bouncing.

“Oh! Oh god-god-fuck-fuck yes-” You cried out.

“Yes, I’m your god- and-and you want to cum, don’t you?” he panted as he pounded into you. “God, you beneath, begging for me-I’m-I’m not gonig to last either-I-”

One hand lowered to your clit, edging you on. The spinning rose. The bed was already hitting the wall.

“Yes-I’m yours- Loki-Loki I’m-I’m going to-to-”

The pleasure burst. A moany, desperate “F-fuck!” flew out of you.

A sound came from Loki as he too reached his climax and groaned in gradual spurts. As if it grew out of him. His hot seed shooting inside you.

He was panting, his mouth open. His blue eyes opened to look down at you and a smile was on him, despite himself.

“Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded.

Loki released how he held himself and gently lowered on top of you. Not for lust, but for tenderness. He held onto you and nuzzled into your skin. Hugging him back, you rubbed your fingers in circles against his back. The silence was filled with your souls returning to your body.

Catching your breath, you released a little of the embrace to look into his eyes.

“I love you,” you whispered.

He smiled. No ironic smirk, but a genuine, sweet smile. He leaned into your touch.

“I love you so much I cannot even say a thing right now…” he replied.

“Then don’t,” you said.

Moving your arms back around his body, you pulled him close. Embracing each other in silence, feeling each other’s pulse, and the movement of breath in the other. And not saying one word but basking in the warmth of each other. If there was a Heaven or Valhalla, you knew you had tasted it now.

Minutes passed blissfully. Until you felt your stomach’s emptiness like a knife inside of you. Then you whispered a request into his ear. Loki nodded and conjured soft robes of silk for both of you.

He opened the door, gesturing for a servant in the hallway to approach him.

“Please bring my wife something to eat,” he asked.

The servant nodded and left. Soon they returned with a meal on a golden platter..

As Loki accepted it, you heard the Servant begin to speak boldly.

“Your parents say there is a crucial meeting in an hour. It’s concerning Grendel. They hope you and the Princess shall be present. It is in the usual room,” he reported.

“Very well. Tell them we shall be ready, then,” he said.

The Servant nodded. Then Loki closed the door and walked over to the bed as you sat on it. He set the platter on top of the covers. With the roasting chicken smelling fresh, as well as noticing butter on the vegetables and bread, you found yourself salivating.

As you tucked in, you didn’t want to think of how now realms were in danger. How Odin knew Loki’s secret and how he would only have shared glory as a hero. That you had to recover to have your powers returned.

You wanted to enjoy what pleasures you had in your life while you still had them before they could be taken away from you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The servants delivered a change of clothes. You put on a golden dress. Its silky material is soft as skin, making you run your hands on it to feel how it slides cleanly. Loki donned his traditional dark green and black leather. Looking in the mirror, you hardly recognized a face without petticoats.

“Do I look like an Asgardian?” you asked.

“You’re missing an eye patch like Father,” he teased.

An exhale of laughter shot from you and you smiled at him.

“Don’t fret- you are royalty now. They should be concerned about looking like you instead,” he assured you.

Loki offered his elbow and you placed an arm around his as you left the room to head to the meeting. Your footsteps echoed down columned hallways.

When you arrived, your husband knocked. Voices hushed from inside and a servant opened.

How different that little meeting looked with so many more faces inside.

There was the usual circle of the variants. Thomas talked to Jonathan as they looked over a book between them. Hal and Robert already seated. But now The royal family was added- Odin, Frigga, and Thor. Even Stella sat on a table with her sewing on her lap as Sif stood behind her, one hand on the hilt of the sheathed sword on her hip.

Odin cleared his throat.

“Now, then- let us commence,” The AllFather intoned.

He gestured and everyone standing sat into a chair. They creaked against the floor as people moved theirs. For a second, eyes looked uneasily on him. Beneath the table, your hand reached for Loki’s and he held it.

“It is no longer wise for your little club to face Grendel alone. Especially if he is a threat to our people and our realm, you will need our army, our warriors,” Odin began.

You hated that you agreed with every word he said.

“But the true reason I have called this is because it appears that one of you has made a crucial discovery…” Odin continued. A glimmer in his eye.

He swept an arm to Thomas, then curled his fingers to signal him to stand.

The Baronet smiled. He brought the book out from his lap and placed it on the table.

“My good friends, I have been doing a great deal of research for some time. I wish to assure you, that although my skills in a battle are not quite as refined as others, I wish to be useful in other matters.”

Thomas opened the book and turned the yellowed pages as he continued to speak.

“It took hours of sourcing every book in the archives for information on Grendel. His history, especially any possible weaknesses. Most of them needed to be translated from the ancient tongue word by word. But just this morning, I discovered this.”

He pointed at one specific page.

Everyone craned their neck to look. There was ancient Asgardian text in faded black ink, the lines curving and leaning to the left. You noticed small, detailed illustrations around it of a sword, a crown, a ring, and a mask.

Thomas looked at Jonathan. The Night Manager pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to Thomas, who read the translation aloud.

“Lo, to great praise of the gods,

Did Wise Grendel, go forth,

Long days did he spend,

WENT he forth across many,

Until the cauldron was found.

His death he shreds into it,

And forth did it birth its trove four.

The black ring, a bloodied sword,

An unkinged crown, and a mask of death.

For dreaded death did he ween away,

And death shadow dark did he peel off,

Placing them forth and upon,

Like weeds upon a ship,

The troves, which he then scatter.

Woe for the man,

Who in hell and hatred keeps his soul?

For the trove for that great foe.

THUS was Grendel reared immortal,

Reborn, that is, made freshly new.”

Silence followed. Then Thomas continued.

“In layman’s terms, there are four items called Troves that emerged out of the cauldron when Grendel was granted his immortality from it. A ring, a sword, a mask, and a crown. I confess I had to visit Jotunheim for our Prophet friend again and make him an offering. And it is rather convenient he is fond of a good roast chicken!”

The Prophet- how had it been so long since you had seen him? Since he told you Loki was your True Love? You glanced at your husband and smiled at him and he back. Then you turned to Thomas again.

“He confirmed what I suspected. He said the troves were scattered throughout time and in two countries in Midgard, mostly England. Oddest of all…They are located in our timelines.”

Thomas gestured to himself and then to each variant.

America in mine, A small village in Jonathans, Eastcheap in Hal’s, and, Robert….well, you can guess where the one in yours had been placed.”

Robert turned pale.

Loki placed an elbow on the table and cocked an eyebrow.

“How incredibly thoughtful of him to make it easy on us! It’s so coincidental, we may as well have our names written in that book!”

Jonathan folded his arms.

“If he had access to a prophet of his own, it could be another trap for us,” he said.

“But what options do we have?” Robert asked.

“If it’s a trap, I’ll take Grendel and slaughter him myself!” Thor boasted, pumping his fist in the air.

“It’s easier said than done,” Frigga advised him, placing a hand on his arm to get him to stop.

“So, we must go to each of these places in those times. We must retrieve and destroy these items. And then, we have a key to defeating Grendel,” you recalled.

Thomas nodded his head.

“Is there a city where the ring was found in? You didn’t list one,” Jonathan asked.

“Oh, forgive me, I’m not familiar with the city the ring is in,” Thomas explained.

“What is its name?” Frigga asked.

“It’s a city called Buffalo in the year of 1901. The Prophet said it could be found among the upper class of the city. So I believe that is where we must go- and we all must behave. We all know royalty is one thing, high society is another.” Thomas advised.

Frigga nodded her head.

“If it is the least familiar, then finding the troves in the others shall be easier. You must go there first. And we must find a way to alert the army should there be trouble,” she advised.

“Why, good fellows, let us use that little bracelet! Should it not work when the army of our King can be brought forth? Especially through the gifts of our gracious queen?” Hal asked.

Frigga smiled.

“Yes, if those watches can send the signal, I can summon a portal for the army to go through. We can’t just send all of them over there. Grendel would get suspicious,” she added.

Stella leaned forward, her needlework placed on her lap. She then spoke for the first time since the meeting began.

“I think I’d like to go,” she replied shyly.

“It could be dangerous,” Sif warned.

“Ah, but American Society is dangerous in itself. And not all of you know how to behave among them. Miss Harris, I agree- you would be a natural among them,” Thomas said.

Stella gave Thomas a small smile. Jonathan turned stiff seeing the exchange, a quiet ferocity in his eyes toward the Baronet.

“Stella knows her way around people. How to talk to them and befriend them. She couldn’t be impolite if you begged her to be. And Aldwinter loved her for that,” you recalled.

“I could help in some ways. Search for it, talk to others to distract them, have them trust us,” Stella suggested.

All of you looked at each other. Thor was drumming his fingernails on the table.’’

“But if there should be a battle!” the god cried.

“Not all battles are with swords, brother,” Loki replied.

“Of course that would help. Sif can guard her. We could use Stella. Any bit of help we can get.” Robert advised. His hands reached to his shirt pocket for a cigarette and finding none, rested on the table.

“And…I would like another thing, please…” Stella continued.

The eyes were on her. Your friend then relaxed, though eyes were on her. Her voice was brighter with her growing confidence.

“I….I’m tired of always being taken, being hurt. I don’t want it to happen anymore. Could I…could I learn to fight just a little, please? Just enough to protect myself. I don’t wish for any glory on the battlefield, I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just…I want to feel safe. Please,” she requested.

Loki smiled.

“Well then, you are quite welcome,” Loki began.

Sif turned to her.

“I’ll show you. I know how a woman can fight off a man. You’ll have lessons before you go- where to strike where it hurts. And you better pay attention,” she offered.

“She is worth every sore muscle!” you assured your friend.

Stella’s pink lips curved into a smile.

“Thank you, all of you,” she said.

Odin crossed his arms.

“Well, one sorceress in Asgard and another-” his eye went to you. “Sent off to Midgard. With the Princess’s gifts and your proper training, I have a little hope in me.”

You raised your hand to speak.

“Your highness-AllFather-I, I was tricked into eating Kunniger. The poison drained me of my gifts. I’ll need the tea from the Brunhilde flowers in Jotunheim. And enough to drink for at least two days,” you insisted.

Thor perked up.

“Oh! Brunhilde flowers then? Why, sister, then we must fetch them for you! And you shall be back to your magical glory in no time! Why, I should get them myself!” he replied eagerly, beating his fist on the table. It seemed that the table and everyone jumped in response.

Odin nodded his head.

“Then, it is settled. We will have two days- during which I expect everyone who is able to train vigorously. Then, you set forth in Midgard starting with the kingdom known as Buffalo. You all know what you must do- find the troves. Destroy them. Consider this a command from your king.”

��── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

While unleashing Thor among the upper crust of New York was like unleashing a bull into a china shop, he was useful in other ways.

Thor ran to Jotunheim like a dog released in a field. He grabbed as many Brunhilde flowers as he could and ran back, the tiny purple blooms bunched in his large fist. He brought you forth his prize at your feet.

For two days, you drank the tea as you watched Sif train Stella. And how odd that this time you were the one watching and Stella was the one training! And Stella in a light brown exercise dress of your time.Different than her typical blue. dodging Sif’s punches was a sight to see.

Sif led Stella to one dummy and handed her a dagger. She pointed at its neck.

“Strike there and he’ll be weakened.”

She moved her finger to the heart.

“Strike there and he’ll be dead.”

Stella gripped the handle of the dagger with both hands.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” she responded.

“Lady Harris, there are men worth killing. Men who will kill you first. Men who’ll do worse if alive- stab it!” she ordered.

Stella hurried forth and shakily plunged the dagger through the neck. Like pricking a needle into a sewing cushion.

“No! With force, girl!” Sif barked.

On the second afternoon, you could summon bits of flame. By that evening, you could hear the gossip of the kitchen maids (which Loki adored hearing you recount for entertainment). On the third day, you could move the items on your vanity around easily. You went to the training grounds and fetched a sword a mile away without moving a muscle. Targets of your own were set aflame easily.

Now it was time, and you could no longer delay. One minute wasted was one more advance Grendel would make behind your backs.

Everyone gathered in the meeting hall. Loki conjured clothes for everyone, for the ring was in Buffalo in the year 1901. The men had their waistcoats and cravats. Loki in his typical look. A black waistcoat with a green tie, with a black overcoat, a golden watch with its chain around his stomach, and a bowler hat. Thomas donned himself in black. He brought his top hat and placed it on his head. The men all had waistcoats in colors they favored. grey for Robert, a dark blue for Jonathan, and red for Hal.

The ladies had to have small gloves and dresses as well. Stella’s was sky blue and Sif was in black (though she complained the skirts were tight beneath her breath). Your dress was deep green along with your husband’s waistcoat.

But what amazed you were the puffed sleeves on the dresses. So within two decades, every lady would have them?! How astounding! You kept eyeing them on your shoulders with curiosity- you may as well attach hydrangea bushes to your person!

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, are we all ready? Not quaking in our little boots?” Loki asked.

There was no time to reply. Not that there was time for hesitation.

Loki conjured a golden portal and everyone stepped through. Bright colors swirled around you, hurting your eyes so much you had to close them.

Then, as you opened, you saw you were in Buffalo.

You were amidst the markets of the area, as carts moved about. You craned your neck to see tall white buildings. But the day was sunny with the crisp coolness of morning in the air. You could hear a distant train whistle and the chatter of people, happy for a new day and a fresh start. The city was twenty times larger than your village. The crowds were so thick, that you reached for your husband’s hand to not get lost. He held your own back. And indeed, everyone was dressed similarly to your group, right down to women with puffy sleeves.

All of you walked forward. Sticking close together as people hurried about. You stopped around one building, your feet staying on dry dirt roads far from any possible mud.

“Well, now, I have one little question. The one plaguing all of our minds right now. I may as well be the one to say it- how are we going to find one measly little ring in all of this?” asked Loki, gesturing his arms out to the city.

Jonathan put a hand out to him.

“Be patient,” he assured. “We’ll find a way.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

“Are all of you forgetting that I can sense things?” you replied. “Let me do a quick scan,” you offered.

The group held their breath. You closed your eyes and had your gifts reach out.

At first, it was overwhelming. Every smell, sound, and sight attacked you at once. Your shoulders tensed and you winced, but you had that word in your head like a mantra.

“Ring, ring- the cauldron’s ring…where is the cauldron’s ring?”

Taking a deep breath, you let each sensation pass you by. You let the words be your anchor.

Something nudged at you. As soft as a child asking for a glass of water at night.

The ring…there was someone…someone connected to the ring…it was…was…in a building, a few blocks away.

You opened your eyes, a smile growing on your face.

“Someone has it. They’re in an office building a few streets down,” you reported.

Loki took your hand, leaning to you with a look of triumph.

“My wife, a sorceress and ingenious,” he praised.

All of you hurried forth. You held your skirts over possible mud puddles, glad they’d cover your shoes. Your senses still out like a compass. Finally, a tall, bland-looking building loomed over your party and your senses quivered intensely within you.

“There! It’s there!” you confirmed with a point of your gloved hand.

Hurrying Inside, all of you paused. There were numerous rooms and a grand, wooden staircase. People walked to and fro in and out of doors. Ladies adjusted their hats in mirrors and you could smell cigar smoke.

“I can tell there is a hint here. There’s someone… but it’s…it’s hard to say….” you recalled. You were fresh from the poison, and maybe your senses were slightly dulled. You tried to reach out and could sense a presence, but you couldn’t tell what.

“Then rest your gifts, my dear,” Loki advised.

With a deep exhale, you released it, coming back to your neutral self.

“It will do. We have to start somewhere- we can search the building. Ask people, if desperate. Check for a ring.” Jonathan agreed.

Everyone had a scrap of paper in their pockets. An Asgardian artists made sketches from the illustration of this ring. A silver band with a black jewel in the center. You noticed Robert get it out to see it one more time before folding it back in.

“May as well start somewhere, sally forth, my friends,” Hal began, nodding his head.

“I’ll be back to you in an hour,” Loki said. He took your hand and kissed it as a promise.

The men began to scatter like children playing hide and seek. You saw Robert crudely looking at everyone’s hands and comparing the paper. They went across and vanished into doors all over the ground floor of the building.

You, Stella, and Sif looked at each other.

“Well, there they go,” Sif quipped.

“But who are we to sit about as they do the work? We can check the next floor up,” you asked.

The three of you lifted your skirts and walked upstairs.

As you climbed the steps, voices were chatting on the second floor. Emerging onto it, you all saw the source right in your path.

There was a small group of women with high chins and flowers in their hats. Society ladies. Their smiles were small and their eyes cold as they looked at one woman standing in front of them. As if not included. Not enough. Not one enough.

Their victim in question had blonde hair and a little tan coat and dress and hat. You noticed she had a manuscript in her hand that she hugged with both arms close to her chest like a shield.

One woman in front, who appeared to be the oldest among them, tilted her head and spoke with syrupy venom.

“Oh, we’re having a ball soon, by the way. Not that it should concern you, Edith. With those ink-stained hands, I doubt any gentleman would wish to dance with you. But isn’t that what you wanted, our own Jane Austen?” she said with a smile.

The ladies next to her snickered among themselves.

The young woman- Edith- turned pale and you found her posture tight.

Perhaps it was your unbridled emotions. Perhaps it was the confidence you gained from being turned from lady to warrior and princess and surviving Grendel. Perhaps it was the rage leftover from that marshy town where you made fire burst.

But you could not let them torment this lady- who seemed so small, so timid, so alone.

She wouldn’t be alone now.

Your feet approached them, crashing into their circle.

“And what makes you think you have the right to speak to her like that?” you asked.

Stella hurried forth and went to Edith.

“Why, is it true? Are you a writer?” she asked.

Edith blinked in surprise.

“Why, uh, yes, I am,” she replied meekly.

Stella made sure she was close. Diverting her attention, not causing any harm. The defense to your offense.

“Oh, how exciting! I must wonder at that- how hard you must work for your craft! How fascinating! I am Miss Stella Harris-forgive the intrusion- and you are-”

“Edith Cushing,” she confirmed.

You took a step closer to them.

“What are their names?” you asked Edith.

“Mrs. McMichael, her daughter Eunice, and their friends,” Edith introduced.

You looked down into the oldest woman’s eyes and she rose to yours without a hint of fear.

“Mrs. McMichael, I do not know what Miss Cushing has done to you- to any of you to deserve this. She is harming no one. She has an ambition and is set forth on it- that is a noble thing. And it is none of your business if she becomes a spinster! Haven’t you considered how hurt she must be when you say things to her?” you spat back.

Mrs. McMichael cocked her eyebrow.

“I must be blunt. Edith is unnatural, as one might say. She must know her place. She always has been. With a mind like hers, of course, no one will want her. We knew it from the beginning. We are simply educating her. She must know her place- how else can a pig know she is a pig?”

You had had enough.

“And going about bullying other people to make your own miserable life feel any better is a place you’re satisfied to be in?” you asked.

You got close, holding yourself restrained. Your hands itching to slap her, which you kept folded. But you looked directly into her eyes and spoke before you could be interrupted.

“Then I must be blunt, too- You wish to find a pig, Mrs. McMichael? Look in the mirror,” you replied.

There were gasps among the ladies. Even a “mother!” whispered from Eunice.

Before any of them could interject, you turned to join Stella and Edith and began to walk away. Sif only took a step closer.

“Don’t push it. And stay away from the girl- and us,” She warned gravely.

There were gasps. You turned around, hurrying your steps. Your momentum of triumph and anger pushing your little party of four forward. Edith only looked around with as much astonishment as the abandoned snobs. Three new faces looking at her. A lightness on her features for her surprise defense.

“Where are you going?” Sif asked.

“I am headed to the library- it’s up here. I’m meeting Mr. Ogilvie in an hour,” she pointed.

“Let us escort you,” you offered.

Edith grinned and you noticed how warm it was, how beautiful. With her blonde hair and sweet features, she was a pretty lady. Her shoulders dipped and her eyes glanced down at the manuscript in her hands as if it was her infant. She looked back up, beaming.

“I cannot thank all of you enough! Please- what is your name?”

Matching her grin, you reached out a hand in an introduction.

“I am Mrs. Laufeyson,” you introduced. It was the last name you and Loki agreed to have when traveling in Midgard.

“Miss Edith Cushing, and?” she turned to look at the dark-haired woman in dark clothes.

“Lady Sif-”

“Er, Miss Sif,” you corrected.

“What brings you here?” Edith asked.

“Buisness with my husband. Miss Harris and Miss Sif are my companions. Why do you need to meet this gentleman in the library?” you asked.

As you walked closer, you passed a window where sunlight draped down. Warming all of you for a brief minute. Glancing back, you saw the clique of society ladies titled their heads to watch and then went down the stairs with a huff.

‘He’s going to look at my manuscript and consider publishing it!” Edith boasted.

“Oh, how exciting!” Stella replied.

“! You must have us read it too!” you agreed. Even Sif raised an eyebrow.

Edith guided you all to the door with the library.

“Oh- after the meeting, we’ll enjoy some coffee- my treat! Really! It’s the least I can do- and there’s a cafe next door!” she offered.

Coffee, not tea. Now you knew you truly were in America.

“Splendid- we will wait outside right for you,” Stella promised.

“My husband wishes to meet me in an hour. Do you not mind him?”

“Oh, not at all. I’d like to get in early- there are a few revisions I need to make before he reads it,” Edith said, looking down at the manuscript again.

“There’s no need for shame. Do whatever you need to do!” Stella replied with a smile.

Sif did not smile. Though she was quiet, observant of everything gonig on, but her eyes were soft.

“We’ll wait right here!” you assured.

Edith gave you another smile.

Something in the back of your mind was itching. A bell was ringing loud. You had rested your senses but here they suddenly grabbed you by full force. You stood still, your heart picking up against your ribs as you felt them overwhelm you.

But they didn’t go to the chatter or footsteps or the sunlight shining through.

You felt Edith….her hair feeling pinned to her face, her sweat of excitement beneath her nice dress, her determination to not appear like a frump yet also present of an intellect worthy of respect, equal to a man even…

She didn’t wear gloves. Her fingers were bare, but there was the mark of a tight ring she wore yesterday around her second finger on her right.

She was trying on jewelry that morning. And considered one ring she had. She had put it on. Then decided against it and discarded it away.

A silver ring. A silver ring with a black jewel.

Before you said a word, she slipped through the door and closed it shut. All of you sat on some chairs outside the hall. Your stomach had dropped and you were shaking.

Sif crossed her arms in a huff.

“I don’t see how any of this will get us any closer to the trove!” she complained.

You turned to her, feeling your blood turn cold.

“No, Sif…” you began.

“Why, YN! What’s the matter? There’s a look on your face- something is troubling you, what is it?” Stella asked.

You gestured for them to lean closer, your voice soft.

‘We haven’t actually dallied…we might as well have found the ring…” you replied.

“What do you mean?” asked Sif.

“Edith has it.”

54 notes · View notes

smolvenger · 8 months ago

Text

A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter 20 (Loki x fem! Reader Crossover Series, A Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book: A Court of Mist and Fury. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: A sudden confrontation from the enemy...

Chapter Word Count: 4K

Series Masterlist

Warnings: A sex scene that isn't smut. It isn't too explicitly described and is not meant to be super titillating and is brief.

It just occurred to me that said scene, while not explicit, could have what is considered dubious consent. Even if it is in her imagination, even though Reader verbally says "yes" in the fantasy, it is bc she is doing her duty as a wife, I can see how this is considered dub-con and could make some people too uncomfortable to enjoy the chapter. So, for your safety- It scene starts at "Now, hurry and get it over with, Will," and ends at "Then, when he was done-"

Mentions of cheating (I portray the Will/Cora affair in The Essex Serpent unsympathetically so if you have an issue with that, you have been warned). Supporting Women's Wrongs. Violence and blood implied sexual harassment, and fear of sexual assault (but it DOESN'T go there), scary stuff and angsty stuff, but a happy ending. Grammar mistakes and lack of editing or extra super revision bc I just wanted to Get This Shit Done (tm).

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

When you found the letters on your first wedding day, you had a life already set before you. A life that would take an obtuse turn. Where all would happen…but you would not be happy. You had often wondered if the marriage to the revered went through.

You imagined the scene. One image haunted your mind once you saw the inside of your fiancee's house. Of when he was no longer your fiancee, but swore an oath before his God to be your husband. It was after the ceremony, the celebration where you could only stare blankly at the table, barely eating. And he would hold your hand as the sky got dark and lead you to the white house, ducked his head under the doorframe to go upstairs and commence the wedding night.

You lying on that blue bed. You said “yes”, because you were a dutiful wife. A motionless doll for him to play with, for there was nothing inside you to fight now. Stiff as a board on the bed. You would lift the skirt of your shift on the blue bed. Legs open and eyes open, face away and placid, consenting because it was your duty as a wife now. That was what good women did. Now, hurry and get it over with, Will.

The Lusty Vicar…well, living up to his nickname above you to put it delicately. Hearing him grunt in your ear, and feeling him over you, inside you.

Knowing who he was thinking of. Knowing who he was imagining beneath him, in him. Knowing who it was who made him lose his bearing.

And it wasn’t you.

Your face was turned away despite the position of the act, your eyes not wanting to even look at him. Feeling his sweat and how his curls brushed against you. Hoping he wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t ask questions. Focusing yourself on the far left corner of the ceiling and not him or what he felt like. Creating a mental distance between the two of you in the ultimate act of physical closeness. You would not fool yourself and let yourself feel the pleasure of the marriage bed now that you knew the truth. You wouldn’t think of how much you wanted him, much less how much you loved him. Thinking of what you’d make for breakfast, what the next sermon should be on, or the dishes that needed to be washed tomorrow. Not on Will as he was on you, in you.

Then, when he was done- after he read his Bible on his lap, quietly reading aloud the verses, making a note to skip the fifth chapter of Matthew, verses twenty-seven through thirty.

You would make yourself small. In a feral position with the covers of the marital bed over you. You were a woman now in the town- wedded and bedded. But you wanted to be a child. You wanted to run back home to your father and mother in tears, knowing that a good cry and a little chocolate and tea would make everything better. But no. You weren’t a child anymore. You were a woman wedded and bedded. You were a wife. A priest's wife. A priest's unwanted wife.

You wouldn’t be able to quiet your mind to dream. It would be repeating that question, endlessly, on your lips, knowing it would ruin everything the minute you said it- “Why am I not good enough for you?”

But you wouldn’t speak. A wife never considers herself, she only considers what makes her husband happy. You’d stare at the wall. Waiting for him to fall asleep, tears quietly streaming down your face. You would have melted over the erotic sight of his strong upper body normally- but it wasn’t yours. He wasn’t for you. Not really.

Then, when you were certain he was asleep, you would quietly get up and leave the room.

You ended up wandering to his study. You turned on his lamp by the window. Perhaps you should try to read a dull, intellectual, dense book of his on theology to make you sleepy. But your eyes would only be drawn to the walls.

The green, elaborate wallpaper with vines, branches, and leaves, both golden and emerald. A few white flowers in bloom. You would walk to see more of it.

What struck you most was the image of a white bird with its wings stretched open. It flew over the leaves of various green and yellow branches. Among white and blue flowers in bloom- of a new, exciting life, of promise. And most of all, the animal stretching its ivory wings as if ruled over all. Like it could escape the paper easily, soar over your head, and out the window.

How you wished you could turn into that bird. So you could stretch your wings and fly far away from the town. From him. And leave it all behind for a new place, a new life.

But you couldn’t.

You would go downstairs, past the kitchen, to the main room. downstairs to curl up on the cushions before the window overlooking the wild marshland, the town. And let yourself sob.

Thank the norns Loki called in his deal when he did. You didn’t know what would happen. He’d call in the deal, but by then, it would be too late.

I’m not in that house, I’m in the woods, you reminded yourself.

Giving a deep breath through the woodsy, clean air, you made a mental note. You’d have to give your husband, the one that was your actual husband, who was not a godly husband but a plain old god husband- that long-awaited thank you. You didn’t think you could bear going through the marriage or have the scarlet letter for jilting him at the altar without an escape plan.

You thought you would just stay in Asgard. Take care of the cauldron and Grendel all neat in a little bow. Then things changed.

You would not be that passive, sobbing victim anymore.

You had fought. You managed to take your revenge, completely.

It wasn’t the right thing to do. It wasn’t healthy. But gods, was it freeing.

As you walked further into the woods. A small laugh of relief even chuckled through you. The release, the ridiculousness, and the awe that you had done it- destroyed Will’s ministry, and his reputation, and brought physical harm to both him and Cora all without getting caught.

But…did they survive? That was quite a flame on her. It would be the same for him.

Pausing, touching a tree, you had to think it through. Develop a plan.

If they lived and said something, then the better for you. That would confirm the rumors of the affair, damning both in society. No person would want to associate with Cora at least after that. The visiting council would strip Will of his position with the evidence before them. The superstitious town would be convinced that God had stricken them as punishment for hurting his little Blessed lady. For none knew of your gifts. And none would think you even capable of any act of harm from your reputation as the town’s angel. Besides, none of them knew of your powers. How could even Cora, in her scientific high and mighty mind come up with the solution of why her coat burst into flames when you were far away?

If they lived and said nothing, then at least Will would get in some hot water over what happened.

If they died, then they died. It was their deserving death.

You paused. No, how could you dismiss that? To think- you took two more lives. Not just some nameless bullies, but two people who you met, you knew their names, their histories, and one you loved and were about to marry…you were capable of that! You did something horrible! There was more blood on your hands!

You heard the sound of a branch being stepped on from the distance behind you.

What if Cora survived and ran right after you!? Likely she would. What would you do? With the fury still in your heart, perhaps take out more of her fire and toast her in a place without witnesses until her body dissolved to ash so there would be no evidence. But what if she caught you? You could see her face twisted in her ugly crying and feel her slapping and punching you.

Not that you would have to deal with her. You were headed off somewhere she could never reach. Not even by train.

Taking a deep breath, you let those thoughts of Will and Cora go away. You were done with Aldwinter forever now. Revenge had been taken and was successful. You wanted to see your friends, your in-laws, and your True Love again. You wanted your new home.

You paused in your steps. The trees growing so thick over your head it hid the sunlight and made the woods a little darker.

There was another crunch of feet on leaves. Someone was arriving. No more time for dallying.

You opened the shield. You sent the words clear in your mind.

“Loki…I’m ready to go home…Open the portal. I want to go back to Asgard now.”

You waited one minute. Then another.

But nothing happened. The birds were barely chirping and the air was cold. Shivering, you blinked as you tried not to panic.

“Loki, I am ready now. It’s done. Open the portal, take me back to Asgard.”

Nothing. You heard none of his witty replies or promises or cheekiness. And you saw no portals. Much less Loki. There was only the rustling of the trees.

Did…did he have his shield up? Why? Did something happen in Asgard? You should keep trying.

Then…you heard something- more footsteps.

It was more than one person.

But, you heard more than one footstep. Was it a party of men? In the evenings they would go to the marshes, hunting for serpents and trickster gods with torches, scanning the waters and fields. Some began setting up charms so that their daughters would be safe. Did they realize you were missing and send a search party…

You saw one man, then two, then four. No torches, they were smirking at you like wolves with a plump, injured lamb.

You felt your stomach drop. They were Gerndel’s army.

One stepped forward with short blonde hair and was overly muscular.

“Ah…looks like we’ve caught you. Right where we want to,” he said.

You felt their eyes on your nightgown. Peeking at how your body’s outline could be seen, your breasts hinted at, and feel the air of unwanted lust. And you were one woman surrounded by men.

Terrified, you held out a hand to release fire to them.

But no flames emerged from your hand.

Hurriedly, you tried again. But nothing. Your breaths came fast and shallow and you could feel yourself shaking. They snickered as they walked forward slowly. Knowing no matter what pace they set, they would win.

You retreated, realizing they were going to back you into a tree, as you tried to back into one, they would still keep a steady pace. There was nowhere to run or hide. Bile ran up in your throat. You fought back the urge to cry. You began to gasp for air, seeing their smiles, their eyes bright over you. One unsheathed his sword with a sliiiick, and the blade gleamed brightly in the dark woods. Silver and spotless and ready to be soaked with your blood.

You tried flicking a hand again, but there were no flames. You realized your senses were dulled- you couldn’t feel or hear any presence besides the four men before you and the dark, consuming woods.

“Ah, ah, ah! Someone took a little bit of our old friend’s apples.” The blonde one taunted.

“You’ve…you’ve poisoned me!?” you cried, your voice becoming shrill.

Another, a gentleman with dark brown hair, tall and lanky, shook his head with a half laugh.

“If you dropped dead right now…where would be the fun in that? Oh, not poison. Just a littke Kunigr potion. ”

You remembered the arrow that drained Loki of his magic in Jotunheim. Then you recalled the apple, the only thing you ate today. It struck you…your mother got those apples from a new grocer in town….

It all came into place. Panic made you shake, your throat and chest tight. The brown-haired man lifted his finger, beckoning you teasingly.

“Now…come with us…we can have some fun with you if you don’t struggle. You won’t get a scratch on you…for now. And won’t Grendel be thrilled when we hear who we caught?”

You steadied your breathing. You had to steady yourself- or enough that you could act, that you could fight. Hoping, praying to whatever god was out there, the Christian God, the trickster god, anyone, that your training was enough.

The brown-haired one approached you. Quick as lightning, you punched his jaw and then kicked his groin. As he backed down, his grip on his sword loosened as he groaned in pain. In one brief second, you kicked his hand. His hold loosened and the sword fell. Quickly, you grabbed the sword by the hilt and pointed forward. You were terrified, but you would not give up. Not yet.

“Ah, now, this kitty’s got claws!” the blonde one mocked mocked.

You steeled yourself, pointing the sword. Making your hold steady.

“What, haven’t you considered that you’re outnumbered?” said the third, another brunette with a scar across his face.

You stepped forward, speaking with the powerful venom you could muster.

“Do you expect me to surrender that easily? I will not. I am the Princess of Asgard, beloved wife of the God of Mischief, and third in line to the throne. I may have lost my magic, but I am not untrained in other methods of slaughtering all of you. I have killed, I just killed, and I will kill again. And I will not die here without a fight.”

They all got out their swords.

“That’s enough chatter,” replied the first blonde.

They charged. As did you.

Thrusting the sword forward, gritting your teeth, you stabbed through the gut of one. Blood erupted and he let out a cry. He wouldn’t last long, and you pulled out the sword to hasten his meeting with his maker. As the second tried to grab you, you merely dodged low, his sword through the air. His lower body was left open. You stabbed him through the groin- quickly in and out, blood bursting into gushes as he screamed in pain.

Blood dripped from your sword in its coppery scent. One attacked you and you blocked with your sword, the metal clinging as it stung the air. You swirled around. Stabbing and cutting. Dodging blows and putting up a fight. But they were advancing on you and you had to block two swords, it was harder to keep up.

There were shouts. You turned your head and saw a glimpse that almost loosened your bladder at the sight-

Five more men were coming. Five more of Grendel’s men. You heard the swords being unsheathed and saw them glimmer even in the woods.

They were now in sight and joined their two brethren.

They were right, you were outnumbered. Seven to one. And they were starting to circle you.

Though your muscles ached from the sword, and your nightgown was splattered in some blood-you couldn’t let them win easily. You fought the urge to tremble, to cry. And you held your ground, your sword pointed. You knew your death was arriving sooner with every second, every step of their feet. Your heart hammering despite your aching muscles. You had to keep going. Somehow. Someway. You gritted your teeth and held up your sword to fight until the end. That at least you would face your end with dignity.

They raised their sword to strike at you, and you raised yours, ready to fight this futile battle and-

There was a loud, metallic growl from the distance. A sound you never heard before. So loud, that it rattled the trees. Then another.

Grendel’s men stopped and turned their heads with wide eyes. You couldn’t help but pause in wonder.

It got louder and louder and louder, something was coming. The men looked among themselves. You took their distraction to start to flee, and you made it to a tree when something pierced your field of vision.

Turning back, you saw bright lights.

Their heads turned and they grew pale, holding out arms to block the lights.

One of them grabbed you, dragging you by the collar, almost hoisting you up as you faced him, his eyes glaring into you and his blade ready at you.

“I’ll-I’ll stab you twenty times through your cunt, you little bitch!” he growled.

The sword was knocked from his hand and he cried in surprise. His grip loosened.

You both looked.

There was the sound and two lights ran by with the whirring-it then revealed what it was-

It was the thing Loki told you about. A motorcycle- and a man on it with a helmet- one hand on the steering wheel and the other around a pistol pointed at him.

The man said no reply until a bullet hit him in the shoulder. He let go of you and cried in pain.

You gasped at your rescuer- adn then realized the source of the bright lights-the other thing Loki told you about.

Through the woods, bursting through like a chariot was a car. The men of Grendel all stood, staring agape. But the motorcyclist held up his gun, pointing.

Out from the car, emerged Robert.

“Y/N! Y/N! Hurry- come in!” he urged.

“Get in the car, now!” he cried.

You let out a gasp and could have cried. You hurried to them. The men gritted their teeth and raised swords-

The motorcyclist said nothing as he lifted his weapon and aimed, quickly but steadily. The gun was fired with a loud crack in the air.

One of the goons dropped dead.

Only one of your friends you knew was capable of that, and would come from an era where he knew how to do that-

“Jonathan!” you cried out.

His helmet was still focused his gun raised. His voice distorted, but you knew it was him. Not daring to take it off to give himself a target for them to hurt him.

“The Princess of Asgard with us- let her come with us. And no one gets hurt.”

“YN! Hurry!” Robert urged.

You would not look at the scene as Jonathan began to shoot more at those who attacked. You turned on your heels and ran into the car’s side door, slamming the door shut.

You followed and jumped in. A far cry from any run-of-the-mill carriage you had been! The velvet, soft seats, and big, wide windows and space. You saw the knobs and turns and levers from the front. You covered your ears as bullets rang out. When you peeked back, the men of Grendel were dead.

Jonathan turned to Robert, nodding his head.

Jonathan got out his watch and clicked it.

“Time to go to Heimdall, let’s hurry,” Robert urged.

A portal opened in the woods.

Robert stepped on a pedal, and moved the wheel- he drove through the portal. There was a flash of bright, rainbow light swirling about you.

You landed on the other side, in a golden room. With the night sky in a large window before all. Then Robert hit the brake and parked. Jonathan’s motorcycle followed after.

You noticed a man standing in the center of the room. He walked to you, and at first, you were intimidated. There was an incredibly tall, broad man with piercing yellow eyes matching the gold of his armor and his helmet.

He spoke in a deep powerful voice- he could have been the new king of Asgard and you would have accepted it.

“Well, you both made it.”

His head turned. His golden eyes easily spotted you, not squinting though you were far away. Despite his intimidating presence, his face softened. He gave you a small bow in respect.

“I am glad for our Princess’s safe return,” he said.

“We got her just in time. Can’t blame her for being shaken,” Robert confirmed.

“Yes, I saw it all. Now hurry, all of you. All of the castle is worried for her.”

Robert drove by pulling the wheel, and then the car went down the rainbow bridge. Jonathan’s motorcycle was right behind, whirring along. Looking out, you finally realized- you felt like that white bird in flight at last. Wings stretched out, the beautiful world before you. Not only safe, not only loved- but free.

The blue sky and sun shone. The gentlest summer day. The sea that formed around you in a crystal blue-green. And you almost tore at the outline of the glittering, golden city, Asgard as it got closer, until you were driving through its streets. Passing commoners with astonished faces.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you turned to the doctor driving.

“Robert! Oh, Robert!” you cried. “You -came for me! You both did!”

Robert looked at you with a gentle smile, the speed of the car steady.

“You don’t have to be frightened, Y/N. You’re with us now- you’ll be fine,” he assured you.

You went over and kissed his cheek chastely. “Thank you!”

“Save some for Jonathan too!” he replied with a wink. He was still Robert. And Jonathan would still be Jonathan. Each of them- your friends, your friends! You were going to see them all again!

Excitement gurgled in you as Robert parked the car outside the palace. The guard's eyes flickered to the contraption, as well as the motorcycle. Jonathan parked it and then took off his helmet, his eyes serious, but his shoulder dipping in relaxation and a small smile on his face.

You ran over and gave him a big hug and he hugged you back.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.

“I’m glad too,” you said.

“Now, I think it’s time you’ve reunited with your husband,” he announced.

They escorted you right into the palace through the hallways and into the throne room. You were astonished to see so many of them there, sitting and pacing about in worry. Thor and Hal were talking quietly. Thomas sitting on the steps next to Stella, doing embroidery anxiously. Queen Frigga remained as composed as she could as Sif paced around.

They all turned and there were smiles and gasps. They took in your nightgown and the blood and you- alive and breathing and seeming physically well.

At once they all gasped your name and charged into you, saying your name. Sif’s eyes flickered to Robert and then back to you.

“Did you give them hel?” she asked.

You nodded, showing her the bloodied sword still in your hand. “I gave it to all who wronged me back there, and didn’t spare Grendel’s men from it.”

She smirked. “That’s my girl.”

Stella ran forward and hugged you.

“YN! Oh, YN! You poorest thing! You gave us all a fright! I thought I would cry- I thought you would be gone forever! I missed you so much!”

You hugged her back.

“Don’t worry, I got scared-but I’ll be fine.”

Thor at once charged forward. He hugged you and lifted you so your feet didn’t touch the ground. He shook you around, hugging you like an overexcited toddler with their beloved toy.

“SISTER! My dear Sister! You are RETURNED! How victorious! My brother said he missed your signal and it FRIGHTENED him! Why, thank the NORNS!”

Hal patted at Thor and he let you down. You welcomed him with a hug.

“Well, I’m royalty as well, dear lady. You shall have no bows from me, yet the title suits you- to see you returned alive and triumphant!”

You hugged him back. “Hal, thank you!”

You then hugged Thomas as well.

“You gave Loki a scare- all of us.”

“My powers were taken away- they have to come back with time. But I’m fine- Jonathan and Robert saved me before I could get hurt,” you assured him.

Frigga even embraced you. She smiled.

“I hoped you and Loki would both realize how much you loved each other. And I thought I would never see you both happy together…I can’t even speak right now.”

She let go and cupped your face and then kissed your forehead.

“You are of Asgard now, and I welcome and bless your union and you with all of my heart,” she said.

You could have teared up.

“But, speaking of unions…where is he? Where is my husband?” you asked, looking around.

Thor folded his arms.

“He was getting the army of Asgard to go to the forest. He got scared that perhaps Jonathan and Robert wouldn’t be enough- they were preparing to search for you, but-”

You heard footsteps. And several voices.

But one stood out

Though it was a voice exactly like so many in your life, past and present, there was no denying whose name it belonged to. His voice.

“YN! YN!! All of you- stand and run firm! Destroy any who dare touch a hair on your princess’s head! Where is-”

Loki hurried forth, several guards and soldiers of Asgard behind him. His black and green robes with little gold embellishments. Typical of him, but with his black curls, ivory skin, and blue eyes, he never looked so beautiful to you before this moment. His eyes met yours and you paused. He froze, blinking. His boots almost skidded to a halt as you took each other in for a second.

Tears welling up some, you replied in a small voice. “I thought I’d never see you again, darling.”

Loki seemed to turn white, and you saw his hands shake at his sides. He frantically checked the others in the crowd. “Is this some illusion? Did mother-”

Robert clapped your back.

“We got her. This isn’t an illusion, Loki. She’s here,” he assured the god.

You cupped your mouth and he stood, breathing fast, crying tears coming out from you despite your smile. He walked again, faster, hurrying through, as if he would tear through each realm to touch you again.

You ran right into each other's arms. He picked you up and turned you again. You broke into crying again. You curled a hand behind his dark hair, kissing his lips and then his cheek and any part of him. A sound came out of you like laughter.

“Loki- Loki darling, I’m here! I’m right here!”

He broke the hug and then cupped your face.

“Are you hurt? What happened? I lost your signal! The one you promised me!”

Sniffling, you began to recount what happened.

“You were right to be worried, Loki. I was tricked into eating a Kunnigr apple. My magic was drained by the time Grendel’s men cornered me…I held them off for as long as I could. Then reinforcements came. Robert and Jonathan hurried in before I could be made prisoner or worse. They brought me here!”

There were big eyes as the others took in this information.

He hugged you again. You felt yourself shake some, crying, laughing, as if every emotion at once was washing inside you.

“How I missed you all, and…husband–my…my husband! My dear! I missed you most of all! I love you, darling! Loki- thank you! You saved me! You brought me back!”

“I would have torn Midgard to pieces to get you back- I love you, my wife,” he replied.

Your heart bursting at the fresh word, spoken from his mouth instead of in your mind, you kissed him on the lips again. Soft, but eager, demanding. Wanting to touch him, reacquaint with him. And never let go no matter what.

Hal was smiling wide and Stella was blushing pink. Jonathan looked down, trying not to laugh. Frigga merely then began to wave them off with her long sleeves. Turning away discreetly.

“Everyone…I think it’s best we let the couple have some privacy…” she suggested. Everyone gave a farewell smile, with a promise of a return.

Loki only held your hands and hurried you through the halls, the guards not behind you, right to where his chambers were.

“But…Grendel, the cauldron-what will we do?” you asked.

Loki caught you in his arms and you gasped. Carrying you, he led you to the threshold of his private room. He smiled mischievously.

“I think the Grendel matter could wait for a few minutes, don’t you agree?” your true love asked.

49 notes · View notes