#Sylkior | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

invisible-hand · 2 years ago

Text

Thought I'd post the entirety of my Sylkior satyr Loki and Sylvie/Centaur Thor ficlet did wrote for a "Monstrous May" prompt last year.

CW for violence and mild sexual content.

---------------------------------------------

Thor, king of Asgard Forest, was lying on his belly with his legs curled under him, lowering his bulk so that he could lean over the lake’s edge to better hear the complaints of the leaders of two warring water nymph clans, when Heimdall came galloping up. The negotiations had been going on for hours with no progress, and had given him a headache, but he surged back up onto his four thick legs at the sight, for his satyr lovers Loki and Sylvie were astride Heimdall’s back, their eyes round with fear. It was no small thing for a centaur to let another ride atop them; Thor would have known terrible urgency propelled them even if Heimdall hadn’t stopped on a dime before him, damp grass flinging from under his hooves as the two satyrs scrambled to stay aboard.

“What–” Thor started, but Heimdall spoke over him.

“Your sister. Loki set her tail on fire. She’s out for blood.”

Heimdall swung his head and shoulders back toward the satyrs, yellow eyes bright with anger, and they leapt from his back post haste. When they looked at Thor, he saw worry and contrition in Loki’s eyes, but only anger in Sylvie’s. Thor could already hear the rumbling thump of speeding hooves sounding from the forest.

Sylvie glanced toward it, then back at him, her horns quivering in anger, her arms folded over her breasts in defiance. “She was saying nasty things to us again, how we’re dirty little goats who should never be allowed near the king, that we bring shame upon the realm each time we touch you.”

Loki said nothing, only looked away.

White hot rage pooled in both his bellies, and Thor pawed at the ground with his front hooves. There was the sound of snapping branches, and Hela brust from the trees, black hair wild from the wind and from snagging the foliage. She was moving at a full gallop, her long long legs pumping, earth flinging up behind her glossy hooves; cruel, deadly hooves she clad in sharp metal shoes meant for tearing flesh. Sylvie and Loki huddled behind him, and even Heimdall shied back. Everyone feared her, even Thor feared her, but in that moment he could feel nothing but righteous, protective fury.

Hela stopped mere feet from him. Sure enough, her once long, wavy raven tail was scorched down to the stump. He would have wanted to pick Loki up and shake him for it, if he had had room for anything but fear in his heart for the little satyr at the moment.

She thrust a finger out toward Loki. “I demand satisfaction with that trickster scum hiding behind you.”

“You know very well that isn’t a fair duel, sister, he’s a quarter your size.”

“And yet you insist on lying with him and his equally repulsive cousin. It’s disgusting and unworthy of the king of Asgard Forest.”

Behind him Sylvie growled, and Thor heard her digging at the ground with her small cloven hooves.

Hela sneered. “Oh! I think she is willing to fight as his champion, is that right little goat?”

“No, I will fight as his champion,” Thor said.

Loki at last found his voice, clutching at Thor’s foreleg in pleading. “No, Thor, please don’t, I’m not worth it.”

Thor bent down toward Loki. There were tears brimming in his green eyes.

“Hush, my love,” Thor said, smoothing down Loki’s wild dark hair. He did the same to Sylvie’s tawny head with the opposite hand. He had two, after all, and two eyes and two hearts; one for each of them.

Hela made a sound of disgust, and Thor straightened, and turned to face her. He stepped over and she matched him, while out of his periphery he watched Heimdall shoo the two satyrs back and stand guard before them, lest Hela abandon the last shreds of her honor and make a play at murder. They stopped twenty paces apart and faced each other across the tumbled dirt and drooping grass of the lake shore.

“Thank you for giving me this opportunity to ascend to queen of Asgard Forest,” Hela drawled, spreading her long white arms. “Our kind will be better off without someone with a weakness for lower creatures as their leader.”

So that was it, then, to the death, the thing she truly wanted. Thor had known in his guts that would be the case, but still it settled in him like a weight.

He could only shake his head. “I’m sorry it came to this, sister.”

Her grin was all teeth. “I’m not.”

Heimdall began the count, his voice tight with dread. “Three, two, one–”

Hela charged before the last number hand finished forming on Heimdall’s lips. She twisted and aimed her rear hooves at him the moment he was in kicking distance, but Thor pivoted away, narrowly escaping his flank being gouged open by the sharp metal. He struck at her with his front hooves even as he turned, and she stumbled back, gasping. They began to circle one another.

Thor was at a disadvantage being unarmed, except that he wasn’t, not really. Clouds had begun to gather overhead and thunder rumbled in the distance. For the briefest moment fear flitted across Hela’s face, there and gone, but he saw it. It was Thor who struck next, moving in as if to kick but feinting down as she reared. They collided with Thor to the side and under her, nearly knocking her onto her back, but she grabbed him around his human torso, raking him with her claw-like nails and taking him with her. They went down in a tangle of raven and red-gold fur, kicking, punching, biting, and the ground shook with the impact. Hela was as slippery as he was strong, and managed to pull her legs under her as she knocked him back with a punch to the jaw.

A glint of polished black shot into Thor’s vision, aimed straight at his face, and only instinct saved him. He flatted back onto the ground just as the wicked metal of her shoe connected; instead of braining him, it glanced off his face as his head snapped back. Distantly he heard Loki and Sylvie cry out in distress. Searing pain shot through his skull, but he had no time to process it or his lovers’ screams; he rolled away as Hela’s hooves tore apart the earth under the space he’d just occupied. Lightning flashed overhead and rain began to fall.

Thor shoved to his feet, the scope of his visual field diminished, the right side of his face in agony. He brought a hand up to his eye and it came away soaked with blood. So much blood, dripping down into his beard and onto his chest, all that remained of where his eye had been.

Hela threw her head back, laughed, and pawed the dirt. “Oh look what’s become of you, no different than our sad, weak father.”

Thor hardly heard the jab. He had come to his feet much closer to the lake’s shore, and an idea started to form in his mind. He turned his wounded side to her, letting his shoulders droop in defeat as he made a show of covering his eye with his hand.

Hela took the bait, as he knew she would. She lunged at him, throwing her full weight into him with terrible force that he did not try to counteract. Instead he shifted to the side and grabbed onto her by her human shoulders. Her speed carried them both off their feet and into the water, crashing down into the mud and reeds.

“Nymphs, clear the lake, clear the lake!” Thor bellowed, refusing to let up his grip on Hela’s shoulders as she thrashed at him.

He redirected each of her blows to carry them deeper into the water as the sky rumbled overhead. The waterweed textured nymphs were scrambling to shore, awkward on their webbed hands and feet. Thor felt a metal clad hoof tear at his side, and he grunted in pain, but he didn’t let go. Bile rose in his throat and spots swam in his remaining vision as Hela bit him and tore his hair, but still he didn’t let go, his thick arms around her like a vice.

“Let go of me and fight like a stallion, you pathetic whelp,” She snarled.

At last he looked up to see the leaders of both clans nod at him; the lake was cleared. With a silent apology to the frogs and fish, he reached up into the sky with his seidr and pulled with all his might, and a massive bolt of lightning burst from the clouds and struck the water’s surface. Thor was too dizzy with pain to be precise, but in the water, he didn’t need to be. He felt the surge of electricity pulse through it, tingling up his limbs and thrumming around his hearts, traveling through him and into Hela just as it did via the lake.

His sister didn’t even have time to scream, only gasped once as her body began to seize. A single tear rolled down his cheek from his remaining eye as she convulsed, bloody foam coating her lips. He called on the storm once more, and she went rigged and still when the second bolt hit even closer, every muscle curled tight in perpetuity, a look of surprise frozen on her hateful face.

Dead fish were starting to float to the surface as he dragged her body from the lake. The nymph leaders stared at him, slack jawed in awe and horror.

“I’m sorry,” Thor said, but they only shook their slimy green-brown heads, in negation to what, he wasn’t sure.

The moment his four legs were on solid shore he collapsed into a kneeling position atop them, blood pouring from the gash in his flank, his head swimming with the blood loss. His torso listed to the side, in moments he would tip fully into the dirt, but he found the strength to look up at the sound of two little pairs of cloven hoofs running toward him.

Two sets of small hands reached up to support him the best they could. Sylvie was openly weeping. “Oh Thor, my love, your eye, your eye.”

Tears trickled down Loki’s face as well, although he was sternly focused on digging through the medicine pouch he always wore swung across his back. “You’re lucky I practice healing magic, you great lout. I don’t know what you were thinking taking her on unarmed like that.” He would have sounded angry if his voice hadn’t cracked and wavered.

“That I was protecting the ones I love most. Do you think she would have stopped at you and spared Sylvie? No. I did it for both of you.”

His voice sounded cracked and dry, and in moments Sylvie was pressing a canteen into his hands. He drank greedily from it as Loki began to climb over his long back, tisking, prodding, making him wince and then soothing with little bursts of medical magic.

“What supplies do you need?” Heimdall asked, looking on with his bright eyes.

“Hmm hmm, bandages, more polstace, I have a needle and silk on me,” Loki replied. “Sylvie, do you think you can do a pain reduction enchantment while I sew?”

She nodded then glanced up at Thor, worrying her lip.

“I will make all haste, then,” Heimdall said, and was off in a pounding of hooves.

The three of them now mostly alone–if Thor could make himself ignore the presence of Hela’s stiffened corpse–he let Sylvie coax him down onto his less injured side. She sat with her legs crossed and pulled his head into her lap, her tawny fur soft against his neck and ears. Her clever hands stroked across Thor’s collarbones, down the planes of his chest, and back, soothing him. Then she took the sides of his blooded face between her hands. Loki was already feeling around the gash on his flank, making him tremble with pain.

“What memories would you like to visit? Relaxing at our favorite pool, the one at the foot of the waterfall?”

“Any time I’m in both of your arms,”Thor replied, teeth chattering.

Sylvie smiled a little at that, and hummed and rubbed his temples, and all at once the prick and pull of Loki’s needle in his flesh went distant, along with the agony of his raw eye socket. They were in their home glen under the stars, just the three of them, sprawled together in the tall grass. Loki was pressed to the front of his human torso, and Sylvie to his back, and they pulled his head back and forth between them, stealing kisses in turn. Yes, he remembered this one, or countless like it, running his hands over their lithe little bodies, all smooth skin and soft fur, tasting the pink buds of their nipples, equally sweet on Sylvie’s rounded chest or Loki’s flat one, as they sighed against him.

Thor knew not how much time passed this way, in a daze of memories of bright eyes, mischievous laughs, gripping them by their curving goat’s horns as their lips parted…

“Sweet, yes, so sweet, love you above all others,” Thor murmured, warm and content.

“That’s lovely of you,” He heard Loki say, and realized he could feel the chafe of a towel wiping the blood from his face. “You don’t look quite so wretched all cleaned up. Also, I can hazard a guess at the type of memories Sylvie was revisiting from your, er, substantial reaction.”

Thor managed to laugh along with them; good, he wasn’t completely broken then. He forced his heavy eyelid open and both their sharp, beautiful faces swam into view.

“I think you look fierce and handsome with one eye,” Sylvie said.

“Yes,” Loki agreed, “Like a pirate angel.”

-----------------------------------------------

#sylkior #thorki #sylki #sylvor #ficlet #centaur Thor #satyr Loki #satyr Sylvie #centaur Hela #centaur on centaur violence

8 notes · View notes