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lokiinmediasideblog · 1 year ago

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What Norse myth books have you read already? I need new recs x

I don't think any of these are particularly new. Trying to make a list of all I've read. And granted, my attention span has gotten worse over the years.

The first book featuring the norse pantheon in any form I read was Neil Gaiman's "American Gods".

There's Diana Wynne Jones' "Eight Days of Luke" which served as inspiration for "American Gods", according to Neil Gaiman. Children's book.

There's also "Odd and the Frost Giants" by Neil Gaiman and his "Norse Mythology" retelling. Children's book.

I LOVED Louie Stowell's Loki: A Bad God's Guide to Being Good, if you have children or trouble getting through books, get this! It's hilarious and smart. I enjoyed it as an adult. Diary of a Wimpy Kid meets Norse mythology.

I enjoyed the first two books by Joanne Harris as a teen, "Runemarks" and "Runelight." The first two (esp. the first) are fun and I love the Bart Simpson-esque portrayal of Loki. Unfortunately, the quality of later books focusing on Loki is terrible.

I unfortunately read Joanne Harris' "The Testament of Loki", first chapter is interesting, but he's unwillingly sharing a body with an annoying teen girl, and the way Harris deals with eating disorders is really bad. It's awful. Don't recommend.

I think Lyra Wolf's The Nine Worlds rising series are an easy read. I think she has a great comedic voice and the books are worth reading just for that, and I like the toxic Odin/Loki relationship. I do have complaints about them, such as the anachronistic language (e.g. Loki knowing what a Chihuahua is), and that Sigyn doesn't have flaws other than caring too much for her no-good brother. She also has the women are either saints or evil witches dichotomy going on in terms of portrayals of goddesses. I think the stakes are good in these books so that you keep reading them.

I enjoyed Cat Rector's "The Goddess of Nothing at All" A LOT. While it doesn't have my ideal morally gray portrayal of Sigyn yet, it did make Sigyn more complex than others have. I also like this book mainly because I am a sadist and I love whump and there's a lot of suffering on it. It's so sad you won't be laughing at the myth!Loki memes. I would avoid this book if you don't like whump. I do have criticisms about it, such as her Loki was a bit too nice for my taste and could have been worse (making him justified for cutting Sif's hair feels forced; he can still be a loveable and tragic asshole, you know?). But my tragedy-loving self loves this!

I was looking forward to Genevieve Gornichec's "The Witch's Heart", it has a cute start of Loki giving Angrboda her burnt heart, but she criminally made Angrboda and Loki boring as fuck. Angrboda conveniently doesn't remember anything and just fumbles her way inside a cave for a large portion of the book. And she is the POV we're following. WE ARE STUCK IN A CAVE SHE WON'T LEAVE. Loki's portrayal in this is one of the most cisheteronormative I've seen yet, and it's surprising the author managed this in a story where Loki's myth hijinks ensue and wears a dress (he impatiently yanks off because he felt emasculated). The author thinks having a lean build and no beard=queer. Loki only shows interest in women and feels emasculated while wearing a dress. I also happen to hate Skadi and her weird castration fetish in this book. Bitch wouldn't shut up about it. The good thing about this book is that there's no anachronisms, and I liked Hel's portrayal.

So confession, I had Kindle Unlimited trial briefly, and I read a bunch of Loki books, such as Lyra Wolf's.

I think(?) I read A.B. Frost's "Father of Monsters". It was quite short, but has nice illustrations, and Loki's endearing, even if a little shit. That both takes one for the team and also endangers the team.

I read (partially) some book about Loki escaping his punishment early and rejoining the Aesir, but it was criminally boring (it never described how Loki got out of situations and the prose was incredibly VAGUE) and seemed geared towards Norse pagans(Which I AM NOT). Had a spiritual conflict-avoiding vibe. It was called "Loki" but forgot the author's name and I accessed for free by Kindle Unlimited. I also didn't like that it referred to cops as "Tyr's warriors". FUCK COPS.

I have not finished reading Mike Vasich's "Loki". I think the man thinks MCU Loki is accurate to Norse mythology, because that's the only Loki I could picture (and he was adopted by Odin). And man spent way too long describing sensing "power levels" that I ended up getting bored and stopped reading. I've also seen some amusing excerpt from another of his books I have not read. But, if you're an author, don't spend a lot of time describing power levels, FFS! You'll bore the fuck out of your readers.

#norse mythology #loki #myth!loki #myth!sigyn #myth!angrboda #neil gaiman #mike vasich #louie stowell #cat rector #lyra wolf #a.b. frost #joanne harris #genevieve gornichec #LokiBookClub

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inmyownlittlecorner5 · 3 years ago

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Bifrost Blues Chapter 1: The Elder Tree

Fandom: Thor (movies), MCU Rating: T Warnings: None Pairing: Loki/OC Summary: According to the rules, no Jotun shall ever set foot in Asgard. According to the rules, no Prince of Asgard shall befriend a Jotun. According to the rules Rules were made to be broken. Written for @flufftober2021

Day Two+ >> Read on Ao3+

Prompt 1: winning a teddy for the other

graphic by the author with @ourdiningroom

1065 AD

It had been a terrible day.

First, Thor had stolen all of the hveteboller at breakfast, leaving Loki with nothing but eggs and apples (which were wholesome food, but boring, boring, boring). Then Thor had won every single foot race, no matter what fearsome illusion Loki had created to distract him. Either Thor was getting better at telling fantasy from reality, or he was so stupidly brave that he didn’t care when an undead draugar was in his path. Loki clearly needed more practice with his illusions.

The final straw had been after luncheon, when Thor had run off with his friends to explore the forest at the foot of the mountains. Loki had been right behind them, only stopping into his room for a few essentials (a book to read, and a book to take notes in, and another book in case he finished the first one). But by the time he’d reached the courtyard, they’d been gone.

“Stupid Thor,” Loki muttered as he wandered through the forest alone. “I hope he falls into a cave, and the Jörmungandr gets him, and we never see him again.”

Nightfall was coming fast. Loki would be in the worst kind of trouble if he did not return to the castle before then. He continued along the forest path anyway. What did it matter if he were sent to his room without dinner when he returned? It wasn’t as if anyone would miss him.

The path he was following took a sharp curve, ending at the base of a mighty elder tree. The wide trunk was covered with branches, perfectly spaced for climbing. Loki eagerly started up the tree. For a time, the irritations of the day faded as he simply enjoyed the feeling of being young and agile.

He was halfway up the tree when he caught sight of a long white skirt above him. The girl wearing it was clinging to the tree trunk, her face pressed against the wood. He tilted his head, studying her, then scurried up the tree until he was level with her.

“Are you a huldra?” he asked, more curious than wary. Maybe her tail was hidden underneath her skirt.

“No.” Her voice was tense and quiet.

“Then what are you doing up here? This is a terrible place for a nap.”

She lifted her head off the tree trunk to glare at him. “I’m not sleeping.”

He would have teased her further, but he was completely distracted by her dark blue skin. “A Jotun! How did you—you shouldn’t be here.”

“I have as much right to be here as anybody else. Are you the king that you order people about so?”

Loki was not afraid of monsters. He narrowed his eyes at the Jotun girl. “I may not be the king, but I am his son. I’ll order anyone I like.”

“You’re small for a prince.”

That was funny, coming from a Frost Giant shorter than he was. “And you��re small for a Jotun.”

“Just leave me alone.”

He grinned as she looked away from his glare. He could outstare anyone. Except father.

“No. Not until you tell me what you’re doing here.”

She huffed in exasperation. “If you must know, I’m trying to rescue my little sister’s stuffed dreki. An Imp thought it would be funny to steal it and leave it at the top of a tree in Asgard. I wouldn’t have come after it, but it’s her favorite toy, and she won’t go to sleep without it.”

Loki glanced upwards. The dreki was dangling from a branch by its twisted tail several feet above them.

“It’s right there,” he said, pointing. “If that’s all you’ve come for, take it and go.”

“I can’t,” she hissed through her teeth.

What a strange girl. “Of course you can. Just go and get it.”

The girl mumbled something he couldn’t make out.

“What was that? Speak up when you talk to royalty.”

“I said I’m afraid of heights. I’m…stuck.”

Loki laughed. How could anyone be afraid of heights? “Is that all? There’s nothing to be afraid of. Look!”

He swung himself from one tree branch to the other, climbing the tree effortlessly. The Jotun girl gasped, which only encouraged him to move more recklessly. With a final jump, he had the dreki in his hand. Then he was swinging back down to where the girl still clung to the tree.

“There’s nothing to fear. I’ve got your sister’s toy,” he said.

“I—“ she began in a shaky voice.

There was no sense in letting her talk herself into more fear. Loki looked her square in the eye, then blinked in surprise.

“You’re eyes—they’re brown. I thought Jotun eyes were red,” he said.

“Our eyes are all different colors. They only turn red when we’re fighting,” she explained. “Everybody knows that.”

He filed this information away in case it proved useful later. “We’re not that far from the bottom. Keep your eyes on me. We’ll climb down together.”

She seemed conflicted, but there was no other choice. Loki kept the pace slow and steady as they worked their way down the trunk. She did not look away from him once.

“I didn’t know Jotuns had toys,” he said. Talking would keep her mind too busy for fear.

“Why wouldn’t we? Don’t Asgardians have toys?” she replied.

“Of course! We have the best toys in the Nine Realms. Do you have books too?”

The fear in her eyes was turning into annoyance. Good. Anger was better than fear.

“Yes, what a question,” she said.

“I beg your pardon, Maid of Jotunheim. According to our history your Realm is somewhat…unrefined.”

“Unrefined?” Her brown eyes flashed golden. “We’re just as good as any of the other Realms. Just because Asgard doesn’t know our ways doesn’t make them unrefined. Why—“

“We’ve reached the ground,” Loki said, cutting of her ranting. “Your eyes change color when you’re angry, did you know?”

He held the dreki out to her, hardly able to contain his laughter. She was angry with him but, as he’d rescued both her sister’s toy and her own self from the tree, she could hardly own it. Without a word, she snatched the dreki and started hurrying off into the forest.

“Maid of Jotunheim, aren’t you going to thank me?” he called after her.

She paused in her flight and turned back to him, her manners as pretty as any Asgardian courtier. “Thank you, Your Highness. I am in your debt.”

“Then give me your name, that I will know from whom to collect it.”

Her anger flared back to life; her golden eyes and dark red hair were fire against the deep blue of her skin.

“My name is Angrboda Galarrsdatter,” she said fiercely.

“And mine is Loki Odinson. Good day to you, Angrboda. I won’t forget.”

She growled as she whirled away from him and ran into the forest. He watched her until he could no longer see the white of her dress or the red of her hair. Then he started back towards the palace, whistling his victory to the night birds as he went.

End Notes:

Hveteboller: Norwegian cardamom sweet buns.

The elder tree is associated with Freya, the Norse goddess of love.

Draugar are something like zombies.

The Jörmungandr, or the Midgard Serpent, is an giant snake.

Huldra are forest spirits with cow’s tails.

Dreki: dragon

In Norse Mythology, Angrboda is Loki’s Jotun wife. For the purposes of this fic, Jotuns are not monsters (whatever the Asgardians say they are).

Day Two+ >>

#flufftober2021 #loki x original female character #loki laufeyson #marvel cinematic universe #thor #inmyownlittlecorner5

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doloresrojo · 3 years ago

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Hel’s Daughter

Notes: Although I've never read one of his books, I was inspired by Rick Riordan. I also took some elements of different works of fiction, like Francesca Simon's "The Monstrous Child", the History Channel show "Vikings", Neil Gaiman's "Norse Mythology" and other sources. English is not my native language, so there might be mistakes when it comes to grammar and spelling.

Hope you like it.

The word miracle didn’t exist for the old Norsemen; the concept was foreign to them. If you wanted the favor of the gods you had to take it through sacrifice and blood, prayers were not enough. The gods demanded action. Hel, the goddess of the dead, ruler of Helheim, receiver of those who died an unworthy dead, believed this just as much as the Aesir and the Vanir; and yet, she couldn’t think of a better word to describe the baby that was about to come out of her womb. For thousands of years the gods and goddesses had roamed Midgard coupling with mortals leaving offsprings everywhere. So far, Hel had been the only exception when it came to offsprings. Nobody told Hel that she couldn’t conceive, she just assumed it, after all, half of her body was a corpse. She thought that she wasn’t supposed to produce life, it was not her domain. But having a child had always been one of her deepest longings.

Hel was a witch too, her mother the giantess Angrboda was a völva, and a powerful one; Loki had not chosen her only for her beauty and wickedness; power attracted Loki more than anything, and before being separated from her children she had thought her daughter well. Hel could cast a spell for almost anything, but her favorite was the art of illusion. Hel could make the left side of her body, the one that was a corpse, complement the right one. She knew that the other gods disdained her appearance, and she had used that to her advantage, she loved to play with them, but when it came to mortal men she knew that she had to conceal that part of her if she wanted their attention. So she presented herself as a beautiful Nordic woman: fair skin and smooth as the ice, green eyes like a meadow in the spring, scarlet red lips and long blond hair that reached down to her waist. She looked like a princess from a fairy tale, ancient and mysterious.

The father of her baby was a young Irish musician that was living in London, one of her favorite places. He wasn’t particularly ambitious, he hadn’t left Ireland trying to make it big, he was a wanderer and an artist, a good one for that matter. At first Hel had been attracted to his voice, raspy but comforting, like whiskey running through your veins; then as she watched him she realized that he was shy and he was honestly baffled when someone showed interest in him, and it wasn’t an act; she could see it through her left eye, that eye could only see the truth; he knew her as Sigrid and for one night they worshiped each other. Trough sex, Hel was able to feel the rush that only living bodies feel, the feeling that she couldn’t completely have on her own. And this boy was good at what he was doing, despite of his clumsiness and hesitation, once he got confident he became aware of what his partner wanted and delivered. He wanted to see her again and she didn’t oppose the idea, she told him that she would come back; but she didn’t, not because she didn’t want to, she was expecting his baby and she didn’t know what to do. Hel never thought that she would have to deal with such a human and mundane situation.

The pain was excruciating, she had known pain but never like this. The pregnancy had not been an easy one, for the majority of the time she had to stay in bed, more than once the baby tore her left side almost coming out before time. She believed that if the baby was born dead she would be more angry than sad, all that pain for nothing; she longed for a child, yes, but now she felt bitter. The fates had given her so much sorrow: a deformed body, an untrustworthy, narcissistic and negligent father, a family broken by the fear of others, a kingdom that resented her no matter how much she cared of her subjects’ wellbeing. So no, she didn’t believe that the fates will let her have a piece of joy; her own piece of joy. She could have a corpse baby, ready to be put to the ground. A living corpse, cursed to be a living dead. A monster, just like her and her brothers, destined to endure the wrath of the gods.

“Just one more push, daughter, it’s almost here”. Angrboda was assisting her. When Hel arrived to Nifelheim her mother was already waiting for her; she had been killed not long after the gods had come for them.

“Pray to the Bloodmother”. Said Modgud, the giantess that guarded Gjallarbù, and her friend, who was supporting her back and holding her from the armpits.

With a cry that declared war she pushed as if her life depended on it, she felt her left side finally being ripped apart, and she collapsed on Modgud; she felt herself being dragged to unconsciousness, then a memory came out of nowhere: She was back at Jötunheim, with her brothers in her room, she was lying on Fenrir looking at the view from her window- ice mountains and snow being carried away by the wind- Jörmundgandr coiled beside them with Fenrir's tail rubbing him. Her sanctuary. She was brought back to reality by a high pitched baby’s cry. She opened her eyes and saw Angrboda, astonished, looking at the new born. With tears falling down her face she said:

“It is a girl, Hel. A beautiful baby girl”.

Using her remaining strength she sat up and held her arms out for her baby. What she looked was a healthy baby demigoddess, with ten fingers and ten toes, an upturned nose and a lot of hair on her head. Chestnut hair and brown eyes, just like her father.

“Thank you, Bloodmother. She has her father’s looks”.

Hel kissed her daughters forehead and wept; they were tears of happiness, her baby lived. And that was also the problem: No living being could live in Helheim, which meant that she could not stay with her, she had to live in Midgard. Soon she would have to let her go. The fates truly despised her.

***

No matter how much she hated the three dreadful sisters giantesses, they had the answer to her questions. She swaddled her baby and went to pay them a visit at the foot of the tree of life, the Yggdrasil. The sisters were beautiful, three maidens in the prime of their youth, who could believe that they were ancient and feared by gods and mortals alike?

“You took your time, queen”. Said Urd, the Norn that commanded over the past. She was picking up branches and leaves that had felt from above.

“But alas, no one can escape their fate. Not even a god”. Skuld, the one that presided over the future said, she was looking at the well of fate, the Urðarbrunnr.

Hel looked to Verdandi, the one that ruled the present, waiting to see if she had also something to say. She didn’t even acknowledged Hel, she just took a branch out of a basket and snapped it. Hel flinched and held the baby tighter, Verdandi had just terminated someone’s life. Tossing the branch she said:

“Don’t make that face, Hel. You are the queen of Helheim, death shouldn’t make you flinch. It is natural”.

“She is a mother now. Nothing will ever be the same for her”. A smiling Urd said.

Condescending bitch, thought Hel. Maybe it was the nerves but she was feeling mocked by the sisters. Either way, they were talking as if she wasn’t present.

��I am here…”

“Oh, we know”. Verdandi sounded exasperated, bored even. “You want to know what awaits to your child. Put her in the crib”.

A crib appeared at Hel’s feet, carefully she set the sleeping baby in the crib and the sisters stood beside it. They looked at the baby for what to Hel felt like centuries and then stared at each other. Urd was the first to speak:

“Your daughter is not like any other child a god has ever had; she is special, one of a kind. She is the only child you will ever have; she comes from the barest place in the nine worlds and holds so much power. She will be pure magic, she will be the one who will tip the balance when the end of everything comes”.

“You mean?”

“Yes. Ragnarök”. The sisters said in unison.

Ragnarök, the twilight of the gods. The prophecy had done so much damage already to her family. Fenrir was in Asgard, chained with a sword stuck in his mouth and Jörmundgandr was forced to hold the waters of the mortal world with his tale already in his mouth.

“How?”

“That is yet to be seen. Just like you queen, her part in it is yet not defined”. Answered Skuld.

“You wretched… tell me what you know!”

“Hush now. We don’t have all the answers, you already knew that before coming here. And you’d be wise to mind your words, unless you want her to have a similar fate like the rest of your kin”. Verdandi reminded Hel that they could tamper with fate how they saw fit, so it was wise no to offend them so they would be on her side.

Hel took a breath and swallowed her anger.

“Forgive me… I am scared. I don’t know what to do to protect her”.

The sisters softened at Hel’s turmoil. Skuld and Verdandi went back to their places, resuming their work, Urd picked the baby up from the crib and gave her back to her mother.

“You already know what you have to do to protect her, your child is not safe. She is in a very precarious situation. There is only one place were Odin, and Loki, might not find her that easily; your powers will be useful for that. Not to mention your love for her, that’s your greatest weapon against everyone that comes to harm her”.

***

After leaving the sisters Hel realized that she needed to act fast. It was only a matter of time for everyone in the Nine Worlds to find out about her daughter's existence; she had cast an invisibility spell on the baby to prevent Odin from seeing her in his dreams but that wouldn’t last forever. Loki was still bound inside of a cave for what he did to Baldr, but the fates had mentioned him and that didn’t surprise her; the gods didn’t understand the full extent of Loki’s powers; bound to a cave with a venom serpent over his head was not enough to contain him. She knew the place that the sisters meant, the one were her daughter would be safer: Midgard. The world of the mortals had changed and with it also Odin’s ability to see everything there; mortals moved faster in comparison to the old days. A lot of things were happening at the same time in Midgard, it was hard for the All Father to keep his eye on them.

Hel was dreading this, to let the father know of the existence of their child, but she didn’t trust anyone else with her daughter’s safety. She had seen his heart, he was a good person; still, she knew that she was asking for too much. They had been together only once and he was young, clearly not ready to be a father. She had to try though; and if he refused, well, she could force him to do it, but she didn't want to do that, because she wanted her child to be loved. Hel's mother loved her, she loved all her children, but not Loki, he didn't know how to love anyone. She wouldn't let her child to be with an unloving father, that wound never heales. So if he refused, she would find someone else to take care of her child. There was no other way.

***

The father’s name was Ciaran, little dark one. He didn’t usually have nice dreams, he always dreamed of unpleasant or strange situations that left him feeling confused or disturbed. However, this dream was extremely different. He was in a place surrounded by rocky cliffs enveloped in green foliage; there were rows and rows of mountains surrounding the land like a belt or a fortress. The wind was cold but it wasn’t unbearable and even though they were near the sea the wind was dry, it could burn your skin. The land had also sterile patches; this place was a harsh one. He heard a surge of water, even though he was now far from the sea, he thought it was a waterfall but the sound was inconsistent; it was a geyser, there were hot springs too. Amazed, he touched the water, warm, it felt so real. He wished he could stayed there forever. Just when he thought that this place couldn’t mesmerized him more, he saw a volcano, and it was not dormant, smoke came out of it.

He loved this place, wherever it was, and he knew it was real, it had to; he didn’t think his imagination as vivid as it was could produce such a place. His favorite part was the beach, with its soft black sand; he sat there for a long time, seeing the waves come and go, breathing the sea breeze. He felt in so much peace.

Hel had been watching this whole time. She was the one who orchestrated this dream; Iceland had always had a calming effect on her, she hoped that he would feel the same way. She felt guilty, she was about to ruin his good spirits. Ciaran heard footsteps, when he turned he found the most beautiful woman in the world. Sigrid, the lovely Sigrid. He laughed when he saw how she was dressed: A long emerald gown with gold and silver embroidery, a black fur cloak as long as her gown fastened with a small gold chain, a copper choker of a snake that ate its own tail around her neck, her impossibly long hair was braided and on top of her head was a crown made of bones and stones. Now, his dream was getting more usual: Nonsensical.

“What’s so funny?” Hel asked, teasingly.

“Nothing… I’m just being silly”.

They didn’t say anything, they just looked at one another.

“You look beautiful, Sigrid”.

“Thank you. Do you like this place?”

“I do, I have no idea where I am but I love it”.

Hel stood beside him and scooped some of the sand in her hands.

“It’s called Reynisfjara beach”.

Ciaran’s eyebrows shot up to the top of his forehead.

“The what?”

Hel chuckled.

“If it’s better, you may say that you’re in Iceland”.

“Really?” Ciaran asked.

“Yes”.

This was a dream, he knew it; but if that was true then why did everything felt so real. The sand that he took form Sigrid’s hands, the smell of salt, the cold wind on his skin, and her. Specially her. It was just as the last time, so natural and effortless. As if to prove himself that she was in fact real, he cupped her left cheek; being in the land of dreams made him bold. She just stood still.

“Where did you go, Sigrid?”

How she wished that she was Sigrid, that she was a normal human woman that could venture to have a relationship with him. Hear him sing his beautiful songs with his lovely voice and caress his skin to sooth away all of his sorrows. But she wasn’t Sigrid and she’ll never be, and there were more important things to talk about right now.

“My name is not Sigrid, I’m not who you think I am”. She removed his hand off her cheek and took a few steps back. Closing her eyes, she let her glamour drop.

She couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes right away, so she listened. For a long moment he held his breath, he didn’t move, but his heartbeat sped up. When she finally opened them she saw him with his mouth agape and his eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. He backed away from her in horror. If you asked anyone, they would tell you that Hel had no heart, because it was in her corpse side, she couldn’t feel anything there. That was not true, in that moment she could feel her heart breaking. Not wanting to hear hateful words from his mouth she broke the silence.

“I am sorry for deceiving you, I promise you I meant no harm. My name is Hel, Norse goddess of the Underworld, of Helheim, daughter of Loki and Angrboda. And I need your help”.

Ciaran looked at her with suspicion but also with interest, when they met he had known that something was different about her, now he knew what was it. She turned so her right side faced him maybe that would make things easier for him. He came closer and turned her so he could see her completely. Hel hated to feel evaluated, normally she would punish on the spot anyone that dared to looked at her like this; still, she let him, she owed him this much. He put both of his trembling hands on both sides of her face, the corpse side didn’t feel as he thought it would; the flesh didn’t come off at his touch, there was no stench, in fact, she smelled sweet, too sweet, it was hard to describe. The air around her was colder and her right side felt unnaturally soft.

“Is this not a dream?” He asked still holding her.

“It is, I used magic to enter your dreams. I brought you here because I love this place, it soothes me. I hoped that it would do the same to you, that made easier what I’m about to tell you”.

“There’s more?”

Hel removed her cloak, revealing that she had been carrying a baby in her arms this whole time. Ciaran looked at the baby and then at Hel, comprehension slowly making way to his mind. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, he just looked at the baby.

“I thought that I couldn’t have children, I had been sleeping with mortal men for centuries and nothing ever happened. I don’t know why it was different with you”.

Ciaran didn’t know what to do. Maybe Hel was being manipulative, she took the opportunity to put the baby over his chest, and luckily he took her, maybe more as a reflex than a conscious move.

“She is in danger. She needs to hide from the other gods and from my father, I talked to the fates before coming to you. Our daughter is meant to bring balance when the end of the world comes; she is not like any demigod that’s ever existed. She will be hunt down if we don’t hid her from them”.

“Did you just say the end of the world?!”

“I know it’s a lot to take. But if you accept to be her guardian I will help you; I will be watching over you both, I will instruct you, my treasure is more abundant than the one that Odin keeps in his halls, I will provide for you. Anything you need”.

Ciaran shook his head, this didn’t make any sense. He was just a regular guy, how in the world was he going to be able to protect a demigoddess?

“I don’t… how will I…” Then the baby opened her eyes. She had his mother’s eyes, his eyes. Fatherhood and motherhood were supposed to be different, or so he was told. Fathers were supposed to take more time to feel a bond with their children, it was normal. But now holding this baby, he felt it, he felt that bond. This was his baby and he was her father, he was certain.

“What’s her name?”

“I haven’t named her. I was hoping you would choose a name for her”.

“I always liked the name Felicity for a girl”.

Felicity meant happiness and joy, everything that Hel was not. It was perfect.

“I love it”.

Ciaran smiled and touched Felicity’s little face.

“Ciaran, do you think you can love her? I want her to be loved not just protected. Do you think you can love her as her father?”

“I already do”. And by the gods he did. It was insane but it was true.

“I’m going to need your help, Hel. You will have to teach me, I don’t understand anything that’s happening and I don’t know how I’ll protect her from gods and such”.

“I will, no matter what. I swear”. Said Hel fiercely. She put on her cloak and took Felicity, hiding her once more.

“It’s not dawn yet in London, go back to sleep, Felicity will be there in the morning. I need to say goodbye first”.

Ciaran nodded, he doubted that he could go back to sleep, but Hel made sure of that with a sleeping spell. He would need all the rest he could get.

***

Back at Helheim, Hel asked her mother and her servants Ganglati and Ganglöt to go to her treasure hall and gather enough jewels and valuable trinkets to secure a substantial income for a year. Angrboda took a look at her daughter and understood what she was about to do; it pained her, but it was the right thing. She kissed Hel and left, Ganglati and Ganglöt behind her, moving at the speed of a snail. Hel adverted her eyes elsewhere and when she looked back at where the siblings were they were gone; most likely, they were already at the hall waiting for Angrboda. They were one of Helheim’s greatest mysteries, to this day Hel doesn’t know where they come from or why they move so slowly as long as they are being watched.

She sat on her bed, Sick-bed, the very same bed where Felicity was born. She retrieved a silver pendant of a rune from a jewelry box. She dangled it over Felicity’s head, the pendant catching the light of the fires illuminating the room, her little brown eyes following it.

“This is the Hagalaz rune; it’s a rune that is associated with me. It represents the wrath of nature, destruction, trials and testing and crisis that leads to completion. If anything the fates said is true then it represents you well, my love… a god cannot always be everywhere at once, I certainly can’t; this pendant will be my eyes and ears, as long as you wear it I’ll be able to know where you are and if you need my assistance. Never take it off”.

Hel chanted the incantation necessary to bind herself to the pendant, green light poured out of her hand and danced around the pendant settling in the rune. Felicity watched everything with a serene expression, as if magic was already normal to her, as if she hadn’t been born a few days ago.

“Felicity, if only I could let you know how much this hurts me. I dreamed of you for so long, forgive me. This is not what I wanted for you, for the both of us… I don’t know what your father will tell you about me, but rest assured your mother loves you, and I am willing to tear everything apart for you”.

***

Ciaran woke up in the morning feeling rested; it had been a while since he had slept so well. He stretched and savored the feeling before remembering everything. He stood up and looked around his room, and there she was. Felicity, his daughter. A bag was next to her basket on the floor, he knelt and peeked at the basket, she was awake, and in her tiny fist she was holding something, he took a closer look and saw that it was a necklace, a pendant of a rune. Even he had heard of runes, and he knew that this was meant for Felicity to have. He opened the bag and found jewels, golden coins and precious stones, Hel wasn’t kidding when she said that she had treasure. Now it felt truly real. The dream that Hel had called upon felt real enough, but now it had materialized. Last night he was a musician that worked odd jobs to get by and was content with being aimless, and now, he was a father, a father of a demigoddess. Hel had not been very specific about the dangers that followed Felicity, and now him he supposed; how was he going to explain this to his parents? To his friends, he needed help, he had to go back to Ireland. This was not going to be easy, even with Hel’s help and support, but he was up for it. Whatever was coming he would face it, he would be there for his daughter just like his parents were there for him no matter what.

***

Verdandi saw everything as it was happening. Hel resumed her role as the queen of the Underworld, pretending that her heart and mind were there, Loki was struggling and raging in his bonds and Odin was vigilant as always, but still unaware of the existence of Felicity. The father was preparing to go back to his homeland with his kin. He didn’t know what awaited them. Not even her and her sisters knew for sure. The pieces on the board that was Ragnarök were scrambled. Some of the pieces were still set in their rightful place: Fenrir was still going to kill Odin and Odin would kill him in return, Thor and Frey would perish as well, and so would Loki. Hel’s role was still unchanged; she would provide her father with an army of the dead but it seemed that the rest was up to her. After Ragnarök the world will be reborn, a new order will come; that’s were Felicty’s part comes in to action. She will either lead the gods in this new world or she will return to the giants what was taken away from them so long ago, as their ruler. Why was she the one bestowed with so much power? Simple, this girl had inherited the power of Ymir. Everything came from Ymir; the giants, the world as we know it, and even the gods. Odin and his brothers had killed Ymir, little did they know that had Ymir wanted to they could have killed them in the blink of an eye. They were nothing compared to Ymir, but Ymir had chosen to sacrifice themselves so marvelous things were born. Ymir was great, and the greatest thing about they was the purity of their heart. But Felicity was not Ymir, and it was yet to be seen if she possessed the same purity of heart. None of this worried Verdandi, whatever this girl happened to decide to do with her power was… unimportant. As long as the outcome was unchanged, the rest didn’t matter.

#hel norse goddess #norse mythology #helheim #ragnarok #paganism #pagan god #nordic paganism

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sserpente · 6 years ago

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A/N: Requests from @winged-time-criminal and anon. Thor1!Loki coming your way! :3

Words: 2953 Warnings: fluff and a bit of angst

Slave. That was the correct term for you, no? The ‘humble’ king called providing you with a room—more like a broom cupboard—and leftovers from every night’s supper payment; in exchange for your services to the crown.

You had been brought to Asgard a year back, survivor of a reluctant race Odin had longed to subjugate and bring under his control. They had resisted. His argument was ‘peace’—yours was destruction and mass murder. And it made you despise the royal family with all your heart. All of them. All but one…

Serving Prince Loki was all but boring. Unlike his arrogant brother Thor, he always was calculated, calm, drawn back and inexplicably intelligent. Not just once had you secretly watched him read and practise his magic when Thor spent half the night drinking with his friends.

When you had arrived on Asgard, the princes had been allowed to choose their new maids by themselves—not for fun under the sheets, thank the Norns, they had their royal concubines for those kinds of services—but to take care of and serve them as they pleased. Whatever it was Loki had seen in your eyes, it seemed to have fascinated him.

It had taken you months to warm up to him, your heart and soul filled with hatred for your new ‘home’ and occupation. You should consider yourself lucky, he had spat one night after you had accidentally spilled wine all over him with tears in your eyes for you had been so homesick. And as much as you had longed to slap him across the face and risk getting flogged for it, you knew he was right. Thor’s maid already had several long scars and cuts on her back to prove he was.

At the very least, so you quickly figured, he liked to read. Every day anew, there would be different books in his chambers and once you were done cleaning and tidying, you made yourself comfortable at his desk or in his soft armchair and forgot reality for a while.

You were mischievous—and even if you seemed defeated and broken now, certainly, you were not going to accept the fate Odin had forced upon you. No. For months on end, you had been planning your escape, calculated all eventualities and even begun harbouring secret food supplies. Soon. You would get your chance soon and yet, every night you lay in bed and thought about freedom, about leaving your duties as Loki’s maid behind, you felt an odd sting in your heart.

When he was not reserved, he was kinder than one would have anticipated. You had taken a liking into him, perhaps even more than that—and maybe that was the reason for why your heart ached whenever he brought a woman to his chambers, be it a concubine or a pretty citizen. After all, you were the one making his bed the next day. His silver tongue convinced and seduced them all and even though he did not bed as many as his brother, the future king, you were well aware of the fact that Loki was not the kind of man you should fall in love with, especially as his lowly servant. Yet another reason to escape…

Blinking tiredly, you fought, desperately, to keep your eyes open long enough to return to your room safely. Loki had just finished his supper. He was unusually quiet and grumpy today. Holding friendly conversations with one’s maid was frowned upon for sure but that had never stopped him from engaging in some heart-warming small talk with you anyway. But you had overheard him talking about Thor’s upcoming coronation the other day… and Loki sure was salty about it.

You sighed mutely as you took a last glance around his chambers to make sure everything was prepared for him to call it a night and made your leave.

“Have I dismissed you?” His smooth voice suddenly broke the silence. Swallowing thickly, you froze, slowly turning back around.

“No. I’m sorry, your grace. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Loki tilted his head, the corners of his sinful mouth twitching. It was nights like these you despised your feelings for him. Loki could be unpredictably cruel with words, knowing exactly how to remind you of your place. And yet you always forgave him—because he had, unknowingly or not, let you seen not only once how tainted and neglected his own soul was. He did not mean it, not really…

“I am expecting a visitor tomorrow, an old… acquaintance, if you will. She is to arrive early so I need you to prepare the guest room.”

Obediently, you nodded, ignoring the pain cursing through your chest. She. A female acquaintance then. Surely, his chambers would smell of sex again the next couple of days. You almost gagged at the thought. Once you were done, you would sure have enough motivation to keep planning your escape and considering Loki would be busy courting his visitor… could there be a more perfect time for you to finally execute your plan?

Everything was prepared. You had a small bag containing food and other necessary supplies which would last for a week at the very least—and a while back, you had stolen a good and waterproof pair of shoes suitable for long walks in the forest.

You knew there was no way off the planet, not without the Bifrost and Heimdall guarding it day and night. But Asgard was big—there were uncountable, unexplored areas, civilisations far away from the crown. Surely, you would find shelter and live a proper life, work for money without having to accept humiliation. Freedom. A life that did not consist of paying off a debt for a crime not you but your people and rulers had committed.

So the next morning after you had served Loki’s breakfast and politely greeted his downright stunning female acquaintance, you took your chance. You were ready and you sneaked out of the castle, spending half the day hiding among the crowds in the market places, avoiding einherjar patrolling through the streets and creeping through narrow alleys. You had planned this route for weeks. You were going to be free.

“No! Please, no!” You moaned in pain when the einherjar tightened his grasp around your arm and dragged you through the door. His harsh knock came right before Loki’s slightly annoyed “Enter”. He frowned when his eyes met your flushed form struggling in the einherjar’s grip while you tried anything in your power to avoid his gaze—and that of his outrageously beautiful guest. Angrboda’s breasts were wonderfully full, her lips red and sinful and her long black, shiny hair… you almost felt ashamed of the way you had neglected yours over the last few weeks. Amused, she raised an eyebrow.

“What is it?” Loki spoke.

“We caught her near the gates of the city, my prince. She was not authorised to leave the palace, leading to the assumption she attempted to escape. She had a bundle full of stolen food with her.”

How, how could it have gone wrong? You had planned it so well, all eventualities! No matter how many times you twisted and turned it in your head—you could not understand you had blown it. This was it. Your life would end. You would be flogged if they had mercy on you. But betrayal held a cruel punishment, Odin had warned you so himself. Death.

The einherjar of course knew you were Loki’s maid, it was why they had brought you back to him straight away. Everyone working in the palace knew. Other, paid maids envied you for your services to the prince and even some of the concubines eyed you jealously when they left his chambers in the mornings.

Loki tilted his head. His expression was thoughtful. Was he angry, disappointed, indifferent? You could not tell, even when he opened his mouth.

“Angrboda, my dear, would you leave us for a moment? I will have a word with my… maid.” He glared at you threateningly when he spoke the last word, causing the black-haired woman to giggle.

“Take your time. You will find me in the gardens.”

She nodded at the einherjar who were kind enough to escort her—leaving you alone with him. You were unsure whether to be relieved or even more scared now.

“How did you do it?” He asked calmly, rising from his armchair to pace up and down in front of you. Slowly, like a predator.

“I d-didn’t… I didn’t mean to—“

“Get caught? No, I presume you did not. How did you do it?” Your lips parted. Only now did you understand his question. He did not want to know why you had attempted to escape but how.

“The einherjar said they found you trying to sneak through the gates.” He smirked. “How did you get so far? That is rather impressive.” He almost seemed to be talking to himself, pondering over the young woman shaking right in front of him. “Tell me.”

Was he not angry? You had betrayed him!

“I…” You couldn’t tell him, now could you? If you were to try again… but… would you ever be able to try again? “Am I going to be punished?” You choked out timidly instead, dreading the answer already.

“What do you have in mind?” Blinking, you stared at him. What?

“Your failure will be punishment enough. I expect breakfast at the usual time tomorrow. Now get back to work, (Y/N).” Your name. He knew your name? Loki was right, living with the fact you had been so close to freedom and then failed was indeed devastating and yet… despite how coldly and indifferently he treated you… there was no anger in his voice. There was only disappointment.

You felt remorse. Pain. Guilt washing over you all night. How could you possibly feel like this? It was true, Loki had never treated you wrongly. He had never touched you inappropriately or hurt you physically. Your life had taken a bad turn but it was not terrible—and you realised only now that Loki had shown mercy that perhaps fleeing had been but a bad idea after all. Was this his purpose? What he had had in mind with his strange reaction?

You dreaded seeing him again the next morning, serving him his breakfast in silence. Angrboda was nowhere to be seen—yet the smell of sex in the room made it clear what had happened between them last night. Quite frankly, it made you feel even worse.

You flinched when he spoke up the moment you reached for his empty plate to return it to the kitchens.

“Leave that. You are coming with me.”

“My prince…” You stopped yourself, not sure what you should say anyway. How would you apologise? You did not mean it, you had wanted to leave—and being caught had not only brought humiliation and an undying fear for your life but shame on the prince.

You were trembling when you followed him through the castle and out into the city. He was right in front of you—if you made a run for it now, would you live? And why were you thinking you were going to die now in the first place? If Loki wanted you dead, he surely would not bother getting his hands dirty himself. So where were you going?

You arrived in the suburbs soon, with fewer people passing by. Loki was on high alert—you were certain he did not want to be seen out here. For what purpose, you did not know. He tensed up instantly when an einherjar turned around the corner, frowning upon seeing the prince this far away from the palace.

“Your grace…?”

The God of Mischief reacted quickly. Not giving you a chance to resist, he wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you flush against his strong body, his lips coming crashing down on yours. His eyes fell shut when he pushed you against the nearby wall, his fingers exploring your curves greedily.

“Oh… my apologies, my prince.”

Now it wasn’t exactly popular for the princes to bed their maids, yet as long as it happened behind closed doors and the common folk did not witness it first hand, not even Odin was to complain. Frigga, you liked her, was the only one concerned for their servants. Thor was an impulsive, reckless and demanding fellow and you had heard horror stories of him asking for physical pleasure numerous times—whether this was true, you did not know though and it was not important.

Instead, all you could focus on were Loki’s soft lips moving against yours, his deeply passionate kiss taking your breath away. Heaven. How often had you dreamed of a moment like this?

You understood. The einherjar catching you both in an act of affection would distract from any other activity the God of Mischief pursued out here and still… when Loki pulled away, his lips remained parted, his blue eyes locking with yours. He appeared to be as shocked by the chemistry of that kiss as you were.

“Come.” He whispered quietly, quickly looking away. Your heart skipped a beat, your lips still tingling.

You seemed to be walking for hours when in reality, the clock struck only twelve when you reached the edge of a forest, with two entangled trunks forming some kind of pathway right in front of you. Loki sighed when you came to a halt.

“W-what are we doing here?”

“You are not happy here,” he stated the obvious. You did not react. “I found your little notes and maps last night while you were preparing Angrboda’s room, you see. They were impressive. It must have taken you a long time to collect all the necessary information for your escape.” His brief laugh was bitter. “I must be truly terrible if you have been trying to get away from me for so long.”

“You are not… I… I don’t…”

“If you are going to explain yourself, I would suggest you do so using proper sentences.”

Taking a deep breath, you gathered all of your courage.

“You are not terrible, my prince. You are simply… reserved. And you make sure, regularly, to remind me of my place when you are in a bad mood.” Suddenly, the words spilled from your mouth like a waterfall made of letters. “I never wanted this. I lived a free life before I was taken here to pay for a crime I never committed. I have no money, I have no free time… I live in a tiny chamber and I don’t even own proper clothes…” Your lower lip was shaking when you pointed at the stolen shoes on your feet. “Of course I am not happy. But I… I never… I never meant to disappoint you.”

Only now that you spoke them out loud did you realise the words were all but true. All the remorse that had tormented you overnight…

“What makes you think you have disappointed me?”

“I… I could see it in your eyes… a-and just now, too.” Did he know you loved him, truly? “But I… I didn’t think you would care about my loss, my prince. I’m just a lowly maid, after all. Replaceable.” You spat bitterly. He knew. He had to.

“You made your final decision when you lay eyes on Angrboda then.” Yes. He knew. You nodded mutely. She was everything you were not. What reason had there been for you to stay and change the sheets after he had seduced yet another woman? It hurt.

Loki paused, taking another deep breath. His voice was soft and gentle the next time he spoke.

“This pathway will take you back to your own realm. No one but me knows it exists.”

Your eyes widened.

“You… you are letting me leave?”

The God of Mischief smirked. “Only if you promise to return to me. You are quite the little minx, (Y/N). No one has ever made it out of the palace, let alone down to the gates of the capital. I’m impressed. I would rather reward you for that than punish you.”

Your lips parted. “What… what do you mean, return to you?”

“I will not dismiss you from your duties. You are my maid. But if you swear to return, you may use this pathway as much as you like.” His smirk grew wider. “And I might have to steal a few more kisses in the future, too.”

You didn’t notice you were crying until you felt the hot tears rolling down your cheeks already. Squeaking overwhelmed by sudden joy, you had no control over your body when you threw yourself into his arms, whispering thank you over and over until you ran out of breath. One thing was clear, for somehow, you had proven yourself to him. He had noticed you, properly. And you might even have a chance to win his heart the way he had won yours…

The God of Mischief chuckled. He took your fear of having acted inappropriately from you quickly when he reciprocated the hug and held you tightly until you had calmed again, your face still pressed against his chest.

“Be back in time for supper. Angrboda will have left by then. I shall have the red wine you secretly drink up when I abandon it on my desk prepared for us. And then, my lovely (Y/N), you shall tell me all about how in the nine realms you managed to escape and trick a bunch of einherjar with centuries of experience.”

You giggled at his words.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would be flattered if you supported me on Kofi! kofi.com/sserpente

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hajimesh · 5 years ago

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lokasenna pt. 11

word count: 1.8k

pairing: jötunn!loki x healer!reader

summary: loki’s awake and you update him about what he missed. i suck at summaries it’s basically loki x reader interacting?? sORRY

a/n: dedicated to @oatballsoffury since i saw you binge read lokasenna last night lol, i loved your comments btw!! this is a bit of a filler sooo i’m sorry if it’s a bit boring. masterlist is in my bio

- Ellefu -

“Sorry for interrupting your fun.” A hoarse voice said, catching all of you by surprise. “But I kind of feel like I’m in dire need of a bath.”

Loki tried to move but groaned, making your arms fly forward as if to stop him.

“Loki! I mean– King Loki, how are you feeling? Are you in pain?” You rushed through your words, still not believing your eyes.

He finally decided to look at you and what he saw made his heart drop. The cut on your cheek looked better but the skin on your left eye had a purple tint while another bruise could be seen on your forehead, same colour as the one in your eye.

“What happened to you?” His tone sounded worried and his brows were drawn closer, a hand hesitatingly reaching out to touch the tender area gently.

You winced a bit but smiled at him reassuringly. “A giant broke into my room.”

His eyes widened considerably before hardening. “Who was he? And where were you!?” He got agitated, his last question directed at Ægir but before the later could answer, he continued speaking. “Where else did he hurt you?”

“I’m good, nothing serious. It’s you who you should be concerned about. You– you almost didn’t make it.” You reassured him about your state but when you told him about his, your voice broke slightly.

He gave you a weird look, thoroughly confused by your statement. He knew he had received a few hits and stabs and he remembered the energy fading away from him, giving in to the darkness but that was it, right? “It was just a stab.”

“Yes, but the dagger was poisoned.”

Loki remained silent, looking at the sheets while both Ægir and Viðblindi sat in silence knowing it was best to not say anything and let him talk to you.

What Loki didn’t know was that you had a few more wounds than the ones in your face. You had broken a rib so, eventually, you grew tired of standing and chose to sit on his bed still looking at him. “They haven’t found the ones responsible for the attack.”

Loki finally lifted his eyes from the bed, meeting your worried eyes. “It was the Storm Giants. Even a fool could notice.” He said in a flat tone, rolling his eyes slightly.

You tried not to dwell on the not-so-kind adjective he chose, perhaps he didn’t mean it for you and was referring to the jötnar? “But the council–”

“The council wants me dead.” He interrupted you, earning a soft gasp from you. He sighed, rubbing his temples before continuing. “So of course they would turn a blind eye on them.”

You knew the jötnar were not the kindest creatures but you couldn’t believe there would be some of them willing to not only let the criminals get away with the almost murder of the King, but to actually try to kill him. “But that’s regicide! Punishable by death, there must be something you could do.”

Loki gave you a sad smile and his hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was touched, he really was. He didn’t think that after what you had gone through, thanks to him, you’d still worry about his well-being. “This is Utgard, my dear. I’m afraid things don’t work the same as Asgard.”

You tried to ignore the strange fluttering in your chest and focused on Loki’s words. Now you knew you could not trust anyone, not like you hadn’t deduced it before but now you could say you were one hundred percent sure, at least if you wanted to survive.

“How long have I been gone?” Loki asked after a few minutes of silence.

Viðblindi cleared his throat before answering him. “Three days, your grace.”

Loki’s eyebrows rose in surprise but then made an unpleased face. He turned his head to you and stared as you played with the fabric of your coat. The days seemed to get colder and you needed the extra layers if you didn’t want to freeze to death. When he failed to catch your attention, he tried to scoot closer to you but forgot about his wound, hurting himself in the process.

You heard him moan in pain and you snapped out of your daze, eyes wide and frantic.

“Don’t move!” Again, you reprimanded him as he huffed.

“I want a bath.” He pouted and King Loki was gone, being replaced by the image of the little boy you used to play with; arms crossed and a bored face.

You rolled your eyes but nodded. Ægir and Viðblindi excused themselves not before offering their help which was quickly dismissed by Loki.

Oh, sweet Valhalla.

* * * *

“I see you are still in speaking terms with him.”

Getting Loki in the bathtub was almost impossible. After the initial shock of seeing his bare chest went away, you spent fifteen minutes making sure the water temperature was right. When he noticed the tell-tale signs of you about to go off at him, he gave you a sickly sweet smile and got in.

You lifted your eyes from your book as you heard him speak but you regretted it immediately, being met with the sight of his bare torso as he ran his wet hair away from his face.

“Huh? Oh, of course I am. He’s my friend.” You said as you switched your eyes back to your book, a blush growing on your cheeks.

He made a disgusted face not noticing your flushed state. “You deserve better friends.”

“Oh, is that so?” At this you finally put your book down on your lap, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yes. Like me.”

His tone was playful but you felt the anger swirling in your belly again. You narrowed your eyes and closed the book loudly, making him jump slightly. “A friend who won’t stand up for me when needed. I think not.”

Your tone was bitter and he winced, looking down at his hands and playing with the bubbles.

“Y/N…”

Shaking your head you stood up from the chair you were sitting in and made your way to the door, only to be stopped by him.

“Y/N!”

You stopped walking, shoulders tense as the anger in your body grew. Turning on your heel you looked at him straight in the eye with your arms crossed. Loki stood up from the tub but before you could see something you shouldn’t he conjured a towel to wrap around his hips, making his way towards you.

“I talked to her. After what she did.” His steps were slow and hesitant as he raised his arms, signaling he meant no harm. “I could not reprimand her because whether we like it or not, she’s a princess. You can’t talk to her in that way.”

You scoffed, he had to be joking. “Unbelievable.” You muttered under your breath but he still managed to hear you.

You were ready to head out of the door when he placed his hands on your wrists, stopping you immediately.

“You must understand! Be glad that she didn’t ask for your head.”

The anger in your body snapped, a fire burning in your eyes. Something he had never seen before.

“She called me your pet!” You finally exploded, yelling at his face what had been bugging you for the last two days. “She hinted that I was a source of entertainment for you, of pleasure, if you will.”

You kept wondering where did she get that idea and if everyone else in the castle thought the same. Your entire’s life work diminished because of blind hate. You couldn’t feel more helpless.

“W-what?” Loki whispered, his voice shaky and filled with disbelief. “I did not know that.”

“Of course you didn’t.” You crossed your arms over your chest after he let go of your wrists, surprised by what you had just said.

One look at your eyes and he knew he had screwed up. You were hurting and he couldn’t help but think that sending you back to Asgard, back to safety, would be wise. But his selfish side stopped him from letting go of you, he enjoyed your presence, you didn’t know but he truly felt like a piece of home was with him every time you were around.

“I don’t know where she got that idea but you must know it wasn’t me.”

Raising an eyebrow you kept your gaze on his. He looked sorry, worry lines appearing on his forehead and around his eyes. You knew, in your gut, that he didn��t mean to hurt you but you couldn’t shake the odd feeling of wanting him to prove you he cared. Something in your heart wanted more and yet you couldn’t pin point what exactly. For both of your sakes you chose to let it slip and turned your head away.

“Please don’t leave.” Loki whispered, hands reaching out to you but stopping right before he could meet your skin.

The hopeful look in his eyes tugged at your heart and you groaned inwardly.

“I’ll make tea.”

* * * *

Loki was back on his bed and you sat on a chair, reading your book.

You had considerably cooled off after the heated argument back in the bathroom. After making tea, you chose to sit on the far corner of the room, book in your hands, as you kept looking over him. No matter how angry and upset you were at him, he needed you.

You heard the doors open and you felt dread filling your body as you saw who it was.

“My King. You are awake.” Angrboda said in a relieved tone.

He only nodded at her but said nothing. His thoughts about her conflicted him, he wished he could confront her about what she had said to you but knew he couldn’t do that without putting you at risk.

Angrboda gave you a glance and her demeanor instantly changed.

“Leave.”

Raising an eyebrow, you closed your book with a sigh before speaking. “I beg your pardon?”

She narrowed her eyes, her hands slowly balling into fists.

It seemed as if she didn’t care that Loki was right next to her and would witness how she mistreated you.

“I won’t repeat myself.”

You looked at Loki, waiting for him to do or say something but he remained unbothered, looking down at his hands as he picked at them. You narrowed your eyes but said nothing, standing up from your place you moved the chair back to its place making sure it scraped the floor and made an annoying scratching sound.

Thank the norns for those Jötunn anatomy books that said their ears are more perceptive of very acute noises.

Angrboda whined as she covered her ears in an attempt to stop the noise, face scrunching up in distress. Once she removed her hands, small spots of blood littered on them and she growled at you while Loki, who had also suffered the pain, still managed to smile faintly at you knowing this was your way of revenge. He knew he was hurting you by not sending Angrboda away, it pained him too.

This was the only way but of course, you couldn’t know.

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lokasenna tag list: @perceptorxbrainstorm / @immakween / @ellaxiv / @pinkmoontribe-blog / @help-i-need-a-social-life / @jessiejunebug / @fire-treasure-iii

loki tag list: @slytherinsassembletofightsith / @memmucci / @servamp-addict / @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 / @theworld-is-ahead / @crescent-night / @godhateskyleigh / @deathofmissjackson

marvel tag list: @for-the-love-of-the-fandom

#loki #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x y/n #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 7 years ago

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Shieldmaiden, pt11

Word Count: 3681 Tags: @outside-the-government @distinguishedqueenofbooks, @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @youdonebeengarthed @auduna-druitt @samaxraph99 @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @little-study-bug @graysonmalfoy @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @ha-tep @fantiomaticsupertolkienlover

Author’s Note: In Norse mythology, Hela is Loki’s daughter. Not his sister, as suggested in the MCU. Just an FYI.

Eira’s lips moved silently as she repeated the properties of the dainty flowers she was crushing in her mortar. She was sure she’d felt the nascent potential for removing festering from a wound bed when her magic had licked out into the plant as she harvested it, but she was sure she’d never noticed the use in any of her studies. The scent was pleasing, and smelled cleansing though. She sighed and stopped grinding the crisp blooms for a moment, holding her hand over the mortar and casting into the vessel to amplify the response.

Cleansing and clarifying, pain relief and reduction of swelling, as well as calming and soothing. She could feel another use teasing at the side of her fingers, and flexed her hand, pressing her magic deeper into the mortar. With a loud crack, the vessel shattered, blowing pieces of the purple flower and the iron of the mortar across the room. Eira shrieked and jumped back.

She looked around at where the remains of the iron dish had landed. Some of them were red hot; others had left scorch marks where they had bounced before landing. The sickly scent of smoldering lavender clung to the room, hanging around her head and making her lightheaded. The door to the study flew open, and Fandral flew in.

“Eira, I heard a blast and you screamed?” He had his sword drawn, as though he were expecting much worse than what currently confronted him.

“I overcast and shattered my mortar. I’m fine.” She shook her head in embarrassment, and took a deep breath. Fandral stepped into the room and tilted his head, assessing her.

“You are not fine, Eira,” he contradicted her. “Guard, get the queen, immediately. Eira needs a healer!” He stepped forward and caught her as she fell forward, hands at her midsection.

Eira’s eyes fluttered open and she saw that she was staring at the ceiling of her rooms. She tilted her head and saw Frigga sitting at the bedside, flipping through the book that Eira kept all her healing knowledge in. She struggled to sit, but her body felt heavy, and her limbs did not want to work.

“I put you into a healing sleep until I was able to get your mother here to help me to repair the wound to your abdomen,” Frigga began without looking up. “This is what I feared when Odin released you. You are too powerful.”

“I don’t understand,” Eira’s voice was dry, and came out a rasp. Frigga laid a hand on her chest and Eira felt the pull of a weight off her, like a heavy blanket being drawn back.

“You should be able to sit now.” Frigga closed the book and placed it on the bedside table. She poured an amber liquid into a mead cup as Eira pushed herself to sitting. “Drink, and heal.”

Eira took the cup and sipped tentatively. She ached everywhere, but as Frigga had drawn the mantle of healing sleep off of her, she noticed a particular and strong pain to her abdomen. As she drank, warmth flowed through her, coiling around the most painful areas and numbing her.

“I’ve never felt such power, Frigga. What is this?” She was too nervous to attempt scrying with the drink.

“It is an apple wine,” Frigga began.

“Apples don’t have this kind of healing in them,” Eira contradicted. Frigga smiled and took one of Eira’s hands in her own.

“Normal apples do not. This wine was made from Idunn’s apples. There was a great deal to repair, and healing is your particular talent, not mine. I had to make do with what I had, and then I had to go beyond your healing tome to repair the damage to your body,” Frigga explained. Eira blanched and looked at the cup.

“But Idunn’s apples? Will that not cause –“

“Eira, the mortar, when it shattered, blew in all directions. It peppered your belly with shards of molten iron, tearing at your vital organs. It seared the wounds in many places, making it nearly impossible for me to heal, even after I’d removed the fragments. There was such profound damage.”

“Frigga, I’ve never had one of Idunn’s apples, but rumour says they grant eternal youth,” Eira questioned.

“Well, nothing is eternal, but they do keep the wrinkles away,” Frigga laughed.

“If that is true, then is it also true about the fertility they cause?” The second question was quieter.

“Your womb was shredded. I repaired what I could. But you are a young woman, Eira.” Frigga explained.

“A young woman who has been abandoned.” Eira tried to keep the bitterness from her tone but was unable.

“But a young woman regardless. And beautiful. And powerful. And royal. And you will love again. And you deserve children with your new love,” Frigga ran a hand down Eira’s cheek. “I know you’ve no need of a second mother, but you are just as much my daughter now as you were when you and Loki were first bound. I would see you happy, and settled. Now rest. The healing sleep has lifted, but Idunn’s apple wine needs more time to work.”

Eira drew in her breath and closed her eyes, a slow tear leaking down the side of her face, trickling into her ear. “No one wants the cast off former bride of the second prince, Allmother. Barren or not.”

“Then you have not seen how the men you know look on you,” Frigga chastised. “Rest now, my child, and think on this. It should not be if a man would want you. When it is time, you will choose to love again, and the man will follow. You are a goddess, Eira. Nothing can resist that power.”

Eira squeezed Frigga’s hand and allowed herself to drift back to sleep.

“It is time, Loki,” Angrboda held a hand to her swollen abdomen. Loki blanched.

“What must I do?”

“Were you not there when your precious heir was born?” Angrboda spat, waddling to her bed. “Make me a pain-relieving tea, make ready the linens, and plan for a long night. I am going to try to rest until the pains worsen.”

Loki made himself busy quickly, placing the draught at the bedside as soon as he could, and then taking charge of the things Angrboda had demanded. As her contractions quickened, Loki felt helpless to do anything, but soon, clambered into the bed behind her to hold her upright.

“I will need to move soon to catch the babe,” Loki murmured, and stroked her sweat-dampened hair off her face. Angrboda groaned through another sharp contraction and nodded.

“Now. I need to push. Help me to the edge of the bed.” Her words were without the usual cruel edge to them. Loki lifted her as though she weighed nothing, and assisted her to sitting. He laid linens down on the floor, readied one of his daggers to cut the cord. He threw a swaddling length over his shoulder. Angrboda clenched her teeth and bore down, digging her fingers into Loki’s shoulders. Loki flinched, and relaxed when Angrboda’s grip on him lessened. Her fingers tightened into his flesh again. Over and over, she’d dig her nails into his shoulders, until he could feel blood trickling below his tunic.

“Boda, I can put a pain-relief spell on you,” he offered. She gritted her teeth and shook her head.

“No, I won’t know when to push,” she worried.

“You’re in pain, Boda.” He hadn’t used the affectionate nickname since he’d returned from Asgard.

“I don’t want to prolong this pain, Loki, I –“ she gasped and pushed again, digging into his shoulders again, and screaming. It tore out of her, until she had no breath left and she collapsed against Loki. She took a short quick breath and cried out again, “Catch him, catch him!” Loki reached between her legs just as the slimy babe slid forth. He pulled the swaddling linen from his shoulder, and rubbed the babe down.

“She is beautiful, Boda.” Loki’s voice was soft with wonder as he tied off the cord and readied to cut it. He carefully bundled up the tiny, screaming baby and placed her in Angrboda’s arms.

“She? No, this is your son, Loki,” Angrboda protested. Loki shook his head.

“This is my daughter, and she is perfect,” he disagreed, running a finger down the baby’s cheek, and her cries quieted as she rooted toward the touch. “And she is hungry.”

Angrboda put the baby to breast, and once settled, pulled back the swaddling and gasped. “I was sure she was a boy, Loki.” Loki shrugged and smiled gently.

“I am glad for a daughter. She will grow up fierce and strong, like her mother,” Loki reassured her. “What should we name her?”

“Jotunn don’t name their children until they survive their first winter. She will simply be Lokisdottir for now,” Angrboda stroked the babe’s cheek. Loki was amazed at the softness in her gaze. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything so gentle from Angrboda before.

“I will need to present her in Asgard once she is named,” Loki sighed.

“You should inform your father that she was born before that visit,” Angrboda stated. Loki swallowed and nodded.

“Once I know you are on your way to well and healed, I will return to Asgard for a few days,” Loki agreed.

“Just don’t fall back in love with that bitch and leave me,” Angrboda’s normal sharp tone came back, but Loki could hear vulnerability in it.

“My place is with you and our babe. Who else will care for you? Eira has the entire court to manage her and Leif.” Loki kissed Angrboda’s forehead, and helped settle her into the bed before cleaning up and disposing of the afterbirth.

Eira sat in the garden, a shawl around her shoulders. Leif had graduated from building rock piles on to throwing smaller rocks against the biggest rock he could find, and then squealing and chasing the rocks as they bounced away. Eira flinched every time he threw a rock. The boy was stronger than she expected, and his throwing arm was true. She was worried he was going to wind up rebounding a rock into his head.

“Leif, my sweet boy, gentle,” she chided. She was still not moving quickly, and her magic was so weak she couldn’t even bring down the swelling on a bug bite last time she had tried. She took a sip from her tea and placed the mug down beside her. In the moment she looked away, exactly what she had feared happened, and Leif let out a startled shriek before falling silently to the ground. Eira screamed and launched herself off the bench toward her son.

He had a split in the skin of his forehead, and a large bump was already forming. Eira laid a hand on his head and dug deep into her last reserves. She cast her magic into Leif’s head, bracing it between her hands. The brain was swelling, and Eira felt her heart beat begin to race. Swelling in the brain was often fatal, and she had no strength to cast to lessen the injury. She pushed herself to find some last drop of magic in her, to push into Leif and heal him. She began to see spots in front of her eyes.

“Eira, what –“ Fandral ran into the garden and skidded to a stop in front of her figure, kneeling over Leif. He dropped to his knees beside her. “Guard! We need Frigga. Or Halla, if she is in the palace!”

“No, it must be Frigga. Mother has no magic,” Eira murmured, swaying. Fandral placed an arm around her to support her, and her magic grabbed at his essence, pulling energy away from him. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Fandral, I’m so exhausted.” Eira’s apology was accompanied by more swaying, as she pushed his arm off her. Fandral put his arm back around her, pressing it against her shoulder as though he could push his lifeforce into her.

“Take what you need, Eira. I am healthy, and strong.”

“I am not healthy, nor am I strong. I could pull the very life from your bones, Fandral, please. Just get Frigga!” Eira cried, and tried to pull free of his arm. At the same time, she could feel her weak magic pulling at him, energy flowing from him through her into Leif. She could feel the swelling in his head decreasing, the knot on his forehead growing smaller.

Frigga ran into the garden, skirts hitched to her knees, and dropped across from Eira. She lay her hands on top of Eira’s and let her magic flow to the healer, allowing Eira to direct it where it needed to go. Leif’s eyes fluttered, and opened. He started crying when he saw the three adults looming over him, and Eira lifted him into her arms and rubbed his back.

“There, there, litli prinsinn. You are well,” she soothed, kissing his brow.

“Bang!” The little boy announced and rubbed his head. “Ouch!” Eira kissed his hand, and placed his hand on the place where the rock had hit.

“Better now?” She asked. Leif looked at her, and kissed his own palm, pressing it up to her lip and nose. When his hand came away, it was covered in blood.

“Mama?” He looked at his hand, and held it up to her.

“Mama is better too, Leif.” She rubbed her sleeve across her lip, hoping the bleeding in her nose had stopped when Frigga shared her magic. She passed Leif to Fandral and pushed herself to her feet, swaying gently with the exertion.

“I will mind Leif, Eira. You need rest. You taxed yourself too much.” Fandral’s words lacked the accusation Eira thought they might.

“I will escort you to your rooms, Eira.” Frigga laid a hand in the crook of Eira’s elbow and steered her toward the palace doors.

Eira was restless. She was not healing quickly enough for her liking, and her magic was so erratic and unpredictable that she feared using it. She sat at her workbench, grinding lavender in her new mortar. It was hewn out of marble, and the inner bowl was still a little rough. It made grinding both easier and more difficult. Fandral was out on the balcony with Leif, playing with wooden dragons and horses. Leif had been a little more subdued since his accident, and was not as keen to play throw with the rocks. He was very keen to spend time with Fandral, and Fandral was often nearby to keep the boy company, as if he sensed that Eira was struggling with her recuperation.

A knock sounded at the door before it swung open and Thor strode in. Eira stopped and rose, nodding and dipping into a slight curtsey. Thor rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Eira, I have told you that we are equals. I grow tired of saying it. Think you that I speak merely to hear my own voice?”

“That depends on when you are speaking, Thor,” Eira retorted pertly. Thor gaped just for a moment before letting out a hearty laugh. He sobered quickly, and sat on the stool beside Eira.

“I have been thinking, Eira,” Thor began. Eira smirked, and placed the pestle beside her mortar to pay attention.

“A terrible pastime,” she chided with a smile. Thor paused again and chuckled, shaking his head. He took her hand in his.

“Eira, you are a princess of Asgard. And you are raising a prince,” he spoke slowly, as though great deliberation had gone into his words.

“Yes?”

“What Loki did was base. Abhorrent. I cannot understand what drove him to it,” he continued. Eira swallowed and looked away, willing the tears to not fall.

“What is done is done, Thor,” Eira managed, her voice cracking slightly.

“It is not right, Eira!” Thor exclaimed. “You are a princess, deserving of respect, and honour. You inspire great deeds on the field of war, but you also inspire great kindness and generosity. You are a goddess, and a Valkyrie –“

“A Valkyrie fallen, Thor. I am not –“

“You are a goddess, a princess, and what is more, you are deserving of praise and glory. It sickens me what your situation is. Please allow me to make it right, Eira.” He paused and waited. Eira wasn’t certain how he wanted her to respond, and cleared her throat uncomfortably, glancing toward the balcony where Leif and Fandral were playing even more quietly than they previously had been.

“How can you possibly repair the damage?” Eira asked. Thor smiled and leaned closer, his knees nearly touching hers.

“Marry me, Eira.” The words were soft, and gentle, and Eira could tell they were meant with all kindness.

“Thor,” she started, shaking her head.

“Hear my thoughts, Eira. You were right when you said I did not love you before. I loved the idea of you. And then, I had to repress any feelings of fondness I might have harboured because you were my brother’s wife. But since you’ve come back to the palace, and I’ve watched you with Leif, seen you working with my mother, all those feelings I once thought I held for you have renewed. I am not foolish enough to think I love you yet, but I know I would.”

“That’s hardly romantic, Thor,” Eira snorted. “I might love you someday.” She mimicked his voice as best as she could, her eyebrow quirked.

“I don’t mean –“ Thor sighed and pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I do love you, Eira. I love you as a dear friend. And I know that should we court, I would love you with passion and romance. As you deserve. I am asking that you marry me. Not today, but in time.”

“I don’t know what to say, Thor.” Eira felt lightheaded and her mouth was dry. She took a deep, calming breath. And then another. Her eyes flicked to the balcony again, but Leif and Fandral were suspiciously silent.

“I would implore you to say yes,” Thor laughed. “But I would be happy if you would even deign to consider it.”

Eira bit her lip, noticing the shadow of Fandral’s tall form against the curtains of the balcony. She blinked slowly and took a deep breath. When her eyes opened, his shadow was gone.

“I will consider it, Thor,” she allowed. Thor squeezed her hand.

“I will make you happy, Eira.” He leaned forward and kissed her temple before rising and bowing slightly to her. “I will give you your privacy now.”

Thor had barely closed the door when Fandral walked in, a sleeping Leif in his arms. Eira stood to take him and he shook his head, turning into the nursery to tuck the wee boy in. Eira followed him to the door, and watched as he gently covered Leif, and tucked the ratty linen doll he slept with into the blanket with him. Fandral stalked wordlessly from Leif’s room without looking at her, and Eira rushed after him.

“Why are you angry?” She demanded.

“Because I am about to lose, again. To a prince, again.” Fandral spat, his voice barely a whisper.

“What was I supposed to say, Fandral?” Eira demanded, her hands on her hips.

“The truth. You aren’t ready for courtship? You have another in mind? Or were you only paying me a courtesy?”

“You know I wasn’t! Fandral,” Eira’s eyes filled with tears as her voice cracked. “You’ve been my only friend. My only confidant. Don’t be like this!”

“Do you plan on courting Thor?” He demanded, his voice void of emotion.

“No!” Eira exclaimed and flinched, looking over her shoulder to the nursery. There was nothing but silence from the room. Fandral stared at her in pained silence. He sighed heavily and grimaced.

“And me? Do you plan on courting me?” Eira could tell that he hadn’t wanted to ask. That he feared the answer.

“Not if you’re going to be a jealous fool,” she snapped, deciding he didn’t need his feelings spared. He shook his head and strode closer to her, narrowing his eyes.

“Eira, if there is to be no chance between us, cut me loose now. But do not taunt me. I do not wish to lose you to my prince, and best friend.” He took a single step toward her, closing the gap between them, and taking her hands in his.

“You have nothing to fear from Thor,” Eira allowed. Fandral let out a sigh of relief and swept her up in his arms. Eira stiffened, and turned her face away when he tried to kiss her, pushing away from his embrace. “No, Fandral.”

His arms dropped to his side and he looked puzzled.

“I merely –“

“Fandral, this is not some romantic saga that will be recited by bards. You have been carefree with your affection for so long. And you are so handsome and charming that you have reaped great benefit from it. But I am not some simpering courtier, determined to catch your eye for the night, and I will not be treated as though I am,” Eira began. Fandral took a step back, his cheeks colouring.

“That is not –“

“As much as I am not some silly girl determined to bed the great Fandral, I am also not your property. If the Norns truly intended us to be together, as you insist, then you are capable of understanding that I am the property of no man,” Eira interrupted, the sting of unshed tears prickling at her eyes. She turned away, and took a deep breath. Fandral said nothing. He stood, unmoving, behind her. “I find I am as exhausted as my son. Good day, Fandral.”

“Good day, Your Highness.” Fandral’s tone was clipped. Eira barely heard him leave, his footfalls were so light, but he pulled the door closed just a little too hard. Eira let the tears fall, her confusion overwhelming her.

#avengers fanfic #avengers fanfic with OFC #loki x OFC

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inmyownlittlecorner5 · 3 years ago

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Bifrost Blues Chapter 2: To Market, to Market

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Read on Ao3+

Prompt 2: sneaking out together

graphic by the author with @ourdiningroom

1665 A.D.

Loki was bored, which was always a dangerous thing.

He’d been trapped inside the blacksmith’s shop with Thor for hours. The clanging of metal on metal, along with the terrible heat, was giving him a headache. As was usual, the blacksmiths ignored him in favor of Thor, who was easier to please and more profuse with his praise than Loki ever cared to be. For a time, Loki had amused himself by using his seidr to push the smoke into the workmen’s eyes. But by now, this joke had worn thin, even to him.

“We’ve been here long enough for you to purchase the entire shop, brother,” Loki said. “I want to see the new volumes at the bookseller’s.”

“As if I’d be stupid enough to follow you to the bookseller’s,” Thor said. “You’ll spend all day there. Aren’t there books enough in castle the library? I’m surprised you haven’t gone blind from all the hours you spend staring at words scribbled on pages.”

The blacksmith laughed heartily at Thor’s joke, and turned the prince’s attention to yet another weapon.

“At least I know how to read,” Loki muttered.

He stalked to the door of the shop, and leaned against the doorframe. As he watched the busy market-goers pass by, he began to spin tales about their lives to himself.

“Here is a madam well past youth who thinks she can buy some beauty in a bottle. And here is a fellow who thinks himself so shrewd. Too bad he will be cheated by every vendor he meets. And here—“ His eyes narrowed as he watched a hooded figure darting out of his favorite book shop. “What’s this? A rogue who thinks to escape detection?”

Thor forgotten, Loki prowled silently after the hooded figure. She wove her way expertly through the crowd, keeping her pace slow enough to maintain her anonymity. He was a patient hunter, following her to the edge of the market and to the deserted courtyard beyond. On the other side of the gurgling fountain, the figure risked a glance over her shoulder. This paltry mistake was enough. Loki caught sight of her deep blue skin.

It had been many years since he’d first seen the Jotun maiden. So many that sometimes he wondered if he’d dreamed the entire thing. But here she was, risking her life on Asgardian soil again. He had to know why. He darted forward to block her escape.

She’d grown in the years since he’d rescued her from the elder tree. But the feel of her temper as it flared to life, the lovely push and pull as she tried to restrain it, was the same as he remembered.

“We meet again, Maid of Jotunheim,” he said with a mocking bow. “You are still small for a Jotun.”

Angrboda glared up at him. “And you are still small for a prince.”

“What brings you to trespass on Asgard’s sacred ground again? I heard you had books enough in your own Realm.”

“Your Asgardian bookseller didn’t mind taking my gold. You will tax him, so you will get your cut. What does it matter where the gold came from?”

“I will have my tax now, I think. I want to know what book brought you to risk Odin’s wrath.”

She blew out her breath impatiently. “Your Highness, if you are going to arrest me, then do so. Otherwise, leave me to my own business.”

He advanced on her slowly, until she was backing up towards the fountain. “Arrest? I do hope it will not come to that. Imprisonment is so dull, don’t you agree?”

“Then you will excuse me. I’m sure you have much better things to do than waste time with a fugitive.”

As she attempted to skirt around him, he plucked the book from her hands. “As it happens, I don’t.”

“Give that back to me,” she hissed.

He glanced at the title, frowning. “Jord’s Rule for the Raising and Care of Horses. How disappointing. You would risk your life for this?”

“It may mean nothing to you, but it is of great use to me. Please give it back.”

He could feel her fury pulsing under the surface of her good manners. There was something mesmerizing about her energies. He wanted to chase them until he understood them completely.

“How do you come to Asgard? I had not thought Heimdall would allow a Jotun passage on the Bifrost.”

“I have my own path.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Then you will show it to me. In exchange for safe passage home.”

He could see her warring with herself, and he could feel the moment of her resignation.

“I suppose it would be worth it to be out of your debt.”

He offered her his arm. “Come, let us walk together.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I shouldn’t touch you. I would burn you with cold. Asgardians are so sensitive, you know.”

He laughed at her barb. “I insist. I doubt you can freeze me through good Asgardian linen and leather.”

Her eyes flashed gold. “Fine. I hope you get frostbite.”

She put her hand in the crook of his arm and led them up a narrow, winding street. Her touch was a curious sensation, for while he felt the chill of her skin, there was a warmth pulsing under it.

“You should know this will not settle our previous debt,” Loki said. “It will only keep you from incurring another.”

Her fingers tightened on his arm. “I should have known an Asgardian prince would not play fair.”

“But I am playing fair. I am also making the rules. Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault I have every advantage.”

There was a hint of red streaking the gold in her eyes now. “I don’t understand why you insist on tormenting me.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, affecting the innocent expression that tended to fool everyone but his mother. “No, surely not tormenting.”

“Teasing then. Aggravating.”

As he opened his mouth to tease her further, there came a set of thundering of footsteps behind them. Before Loki find a doorway or alley, Thor was at their side.

“Who’s this, brother?” Thor asked with his stupid grin. “Have you gone off on a liaison without telling me?”

Though Loki might have teased Angrboda until Ragnarok, he had no wish for any real harm to come to her. He raised his hand to disguise her with his seidr, unsure if he could even accomplish such a spell on another person. But it was too late.

“Loki,” Thor growled, his grin twisting into a fierce glare as he saw who Loki's companion was, “what have you done?”

End Note:

Jord is a Norse goddess of nature

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#flufftober2021 #loki x original female character #loki laufeyson #marvel cinematic universe #thor #inmyownlittlecorner5

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