#that being the word used for viking undies

[woodelf68]

The only thing the movies had to say about Loki's magic use being seen as "lesser" is the warriors seeing his use of illusion as "tricks". Using a conjured smoke screen to escape an enemy host that you have no way of beating? Dishonourable, better to just fucking die fighting a losing battle when retreating and coming back with reinforcements is an option, I guess. Confusing an enemy with magical clones? Get in there and get your head beat in, you coward! *Rolls eyes*

wait if asgard's so against men doing magic does that mean mjolnir's just really heavy

[tarithenurse]

Stranded

Pairing: Loki Odinson x fem!reader Content: FLUFF!! A tiny bit of angst in order to create a bit of plot. A/N: I rarely write anything as soft and sweet as I’ve attempted here. I would be incredibly grateful for feedback so I can find out if it’s okay or I should worry about being lynched by FRA (fluff readers associated). Any comments are appreciated.  

Stranded - One shot

The day has been long and with way too many issues at work to even bother pretending to be a part of real life. That in itself is not something new and explains why you've got a "care package" in the trunk of your car. It doesn't contain a lot, just a few blankets, some chocolate, an energy drink or water (depending on how healthy you are pretending to be at the moment), and a sketchbook with pencils. All of that is the key items you have found out you end up needing when driving off to your "secret" hideaway. It's almost an hour from work and in the opposite direction of where you live, but oh yeah, it's worth it!

You reach the forest in the late afternoon and park the car. About a mile down the official track between oaks and beech trees, you take a left onto the thin track made over decades by deer and other large mammals that tread silently among the trees and past the creek until you reach the hill. It's steep, and you have to hold on to branches and roots to reach the top where the clearing opens up to a world that seems untouched by man. Almost, at least. The noise of cars from the highway further north can be heard dimly, especially now that rush hour has started, but the view across the great lake is undisturbed and the sun beams down merrily for at least three hours still, so you spread out one blanket on the long grasses and settle down after stripping down to only your undies. Why? The question is “why not”. You've still never met a human being out here and you're pretty darn certain the animals don't care.

...

Even with your eyes closed you can feel that the sun has shifted considerably, meaning you must've fallen asleep. Stretching lazily, you inhale the scent of wildflowers carried on the cooling evening breeze. Glancing from under heavy eyelids at the horizon, it surprises you that the sun isn't exactly where it should be...in fact...it seems to be behind you, but that's wrong because that would mean it's morning. After you rub your eyes (several times, just to be sure), you have to admit that the lake isn't there either and now you come to think of it, you've never before been able to see the mountain range from here. It’s all too strange for you to truly fathom.

That's when you hear the voices – so much for no humans around. They could be tourists hiking because they don't speak a language you understand but foreigners or not, you're not ready to appear naked before innocent people. Reaching for your pile of clothes, your hand closes around...grass.

"Fuck."

It's the most intelligent thing you can think of at the moment. The clothes are gone and so is the backpack with the few things you always bring with you out there. There's just the blanket you're sitting on and the undies you're wearing which will be nowhere near enough to cover you decently.

...   Loki PoV   ...

For once Thor is the one complaining about the little surveillance-trip that the brothers have been sent out on. Maybe it is because it is mainly Loki's idea, but it could also be due to the fact that the indication for the trip is a "sense of change" which only the younger brother, Frigga, and the Bridge Keeper have experienced without pinpointing further yet. No one would dare question neither the queen's nor Heimdal's powers. Loki's though? Odin has a tendency to disapprove of the prince's use of magic and that has rubbed off on Thor who favours strength above cunning. Bumbling several paces behind, the brute is now loudly complaining while pushing at any old tree he can find just to hear the wood groan at his might.

"This is folly, brother," the blond complains, "leaving Sif and the horses behind just to walk all this way! And why?!"

Loki knows why and has in fact tried to explain it several times already which is the reason Sif refused to go along. Instead of attempting again, he quietly aims for the crest of the slope while the complaints continue behind him. The intangible sensation of something that does not belong draws him into the clearing where the tall grasses and wildflowers bow to the soft evening winds and the rushed flutter of a blanket pulled around a female figure. Stopping in his tracks, Loki takes in the stranger who looks so utterly lost. Big eyes, naked shoulders and arms that cling to the knitted shroud. A stray blade of grass in the hair.

"Hello," the pale prince offers, "do not be frightened, I shan't hurt you. What is your name?"

The pretty head cocks to the side, sparkling eyes squint at him almost as though she cannot believe he is there. At that moment Thor comes trampling out of the treeline, now swinging his axe at the highly hostile blossoms while making idiotic sounds as though he was a child battling an imaginary army.

"Thor...THOR!" The bumbling idiot finally stops to look at his brother. "Lower your axe, you are scaring our...guest."

"Thor?" The voice is meek but clear like water, captivating the attention of both brothers. "Thor...Loki?"

They nod, but if they had expected any further clarifications, they would have been sorely disappointed because the woman begins to laugh. Shy at first then louder and louder until her entire body is shaking. A string of intelligible words pour from her plumps lips, ending with an upwards lilt.

"Do you know the language?" Thor asks.

There is no language within the nearest realms that Loki does not speak, still this one is unintelligible though familiar to him. "Not yet. Stay here." He walks forward, hands spread to the sides to prove he is unarmed in the hopes that the woman will not be scared. "My name is indeed Loki," he speaks softly, "I do not understand your language, so I beg of you to allow me to cast a spell on you."

One step more, then another and...noticing the twitch in her body, the raven-haired god stops, holding out a hand to her instead. The entire world holds its breath as the stranger makes up her mind, looking about as if waiting for an answer that will not come before she moves slowly. The folds of the blanket part, allowing a glimpse of a bare leg as she carefully steps closer. There is a moment of hesitation before she changes the hold on the cover and takes his hand.

Thin silver particles pass between their fingers and enter her bloodstream. She does not panic (which would have been a reasonably logical thing to do) but watches with interest.

"What on earth...?" The incredulity is like sweet honey on the words.

Loki smiles, already two clues richer. "My apologies, my lady." He bows to kiss the soft hand. "I have cast a spell on you to improve the chances of a dialogue."

She does not pull the hand back unkindly, although the look she shoots Loki is hard. "How gullible do you think I am?"

"I beg you pardon?" The urge to reach out for the woman as she steps away is strong and even Thor must realize that things are not going as expected. "I assure you we have no reason to think less of you...nor are we trying to deceive you in any manner."

A scoff, bordering on a snort, clearly proves what she thinks. "Right, so two mythological characters are parading around in the middle of nowhere in a forest on Earth? Yeah right! There's no -"

"Asgard." Thor interjects helpfully.

The wind plays in the leaves, a bird sings goodnight to the last rays of the sun that will reach the hilltop, and the nameless woman stares tiredly from one brother to the other. When she finally does resume to action, it is merely to readjust the knitted blanket and turn away. Treading carefully about, she begins to search for something.

Thor leans over to whisper conspiratorially to Loki after a while. "She truly does not believe us."

"It appears not," Loki admits, "perhaps she would feel safe to come with us if we were in the company of another lady..."

"Sif?" Thor scratches his chin, while considering the options. He is not much for going back to the horses only to go up hill again and then eventually down once more when the girl ultimately, as he voices the concern, refuses to come along. But what other options are there? "As you wish."

…   Reader PoV   ...

Out of all the weirdoes in the world, at least the two Viking-wannabes seem friendly enough for now….except maybe, the broad dude with the axe. You sigh, unsure what to think of anyone who'd run around with what looks like a very sharp murder weapon. Anyways, you've more pressing matters to attend to because you need your stuff: clothes, shoes, keys, all of it...but you can't find it anywhere in the tall grass. It probably got lost with my mind, you bicker at yourself, considering that you almost believe the men.

Everything is wrong. You've come to the little slice of heaven for years and the place you're at now? It's just not "it". There are several similarities, sure, there just happen to be a lot more differences that you can't explain in any reasonable manner.

"Asgard," you huff, widening the perimeter of the search, "as if."

Painfully aware that the men are whispering behind your back, there's nothing comforting about the so-called Thor leaving a bit later. Correction, it's perfectly fine that he leaves, but less so that the slender guy stays…especially the way his watching you like he's trying to learn everything there is to know including your weaknesses and fears and… You stop yourself before you think further just in case the whole spell-casting-thing isn't some weird made-up thing. Oh, man. Of course it's made up! There's no such thing as magic and the shimmer when he took your hand was just a trick of the light. Rubbing your hand, it's comforting that it doesn't feel any different.

Your brain keeps searching for all the logical explanations for the things you can't actually explain, and it gets you so wrapped up in theories that you don't notice that the spirally path leads you right up to "Loki" again. Much too close to him, you back away only to step on the hem of the blanket.

It's exactly like in the movies: as if from outside your own body, you witness the slow motion rendition of how you stumble and almost fall. Almost, because Loki somehow swoops you into his arm while also managing to pull the little cover you have around your torso again. And there you are, supported in a stranger's arms gasping in surprise at the nearness of his body and gorgeous face. Turquoise eyes twinkle down at you with mischief and tenderness that you don't even want to recognize while at the same time drawing you in like a moth to the flame. Trying to shift your focus away from the sharp cheekbones and elegant brows, you find a new distraction in his shoulders where your arm is draped around. Oh, he might be slender, but there's absolutely shape under those weird clothes.

"Are you alright, lady…?" His deep voice hangs in the air like the scent of jasmine.

"[Y/N]," you offer lamely, "my name's [Y/N]...and I'm…I'm okay."

If it had been a movie then there'd be a 50-50 chance of a kiss at this point. Thankfully, it turns out the odds are in your favour (or so you remind yourself) and there's no romantic exchange, instead the man helps you get your footing and then he lets go of you.

"Fret not, I will see you safely returned to your home world." Loki probably meant the smile to be reassuring, it ends up as slightly sad instead. "In the meantime, however, may I offer you shelter for the night? And...proper clothes upon arrival at the castle?"

That's how you end up following Loki into the forest, meeting Thor and a fierce looking woman not far from the hilltop, and on until you reach three horses waiting for their owners. Thor and the woman, Sif, are in the saddles and on the move before you can blink, leaving Loki's horse as the only ride. It's a fair way up for a blanket-dressed person.

"I'm a good walker," you start to explain, wanting to remain safely on the ground as much as you hate being a burden.

But the handsome god (because you can't help but think of him as such) is already at your side. "Allow me to assist, lady [Y/N]."

And how can you refuse him when he smiles so kindly and look so worried? A nod, then he's wrapped those big hands around your waist and lifting you so effortlessly you can hardly believe it.

...   Loki  PoV   ...

[Y/N] fits so snugly against his chest it seems like she belongs there. The first part of the ride, she has been trying to maintain some distance between them, but the rocking motions of the gallop makes it impossible and eventually she gives up. Instead, she busies herself with watching the landscape. Loki can feel how her body tenses and he imagines a frown on her face.

"This...this really isn't Earth, is it?"

Midgard. "No, my lady," Loki acknowledges quietly. She must be frightened by the situation.

Rather than weep or panic, though, [Y/N] speaks calmly. "How did I get here?"

"I am not certain yet…we sensed a shift in the essence of the verses as though something or rather someone passed through the veils."

"Me..."

She lapses back into a pensive silence as the horse carries them across the plains under the darkening sky. The first stars are visible now that the fire of the setting sun has diminished, and the woman looks to the heavens with a sigh. How does she see our world? Already, the prince has been to scores of realms either in times of war or as a diplomatic emissary, and each time he has revelled in studying the foreign cultures as though searching for something he cannot quite identify. He is almost able to place himself in her position as they crest the hill, bringing the palace and surrounding city into view.

“Oh.” The gasp reaches him softly.

Valhalla and the roofs of the many surrounding buildings glitter with gold illuminated by braziers and magic. Beyond the city, the Bifrost appears like a straight, luminescent line of brilliant colours heading for the vastness of space beyond the lone observatory. Under normal circumstances, visitors to the realm of Asgard would arrive there on the edge of the world and follow the rainbow road to the palace. Not this time. How did a Midgardian come here unaided?

…

Already before passing through the city gates, Loki has swept his cloak around the maiden to protect her from the night’s cold and now the curious gazes of Asgardians. Under the shielding fabric, there is a slight shift in [Y/N] posture as she presses closer to the only ally she has at that moment. Her heart is beating wildly, her muscles like springs as though preparing to flee…but to where?

“Do no fret, my lady,” Loki whispers, “no harm shall befall you.”

“Some might argue that it already has…otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

…   Reader PoV   …

You actually want to stay pissed off at the pompous, medieval, alien of a bastard but everything you see distracts you from it. Asgard, because what else could this place be, is nothing short of magical. You could almost believe it to be actual magic with trees that glow (that turns out to be fireflies, though), and space at the end of a road build of rainbows…your logic won’t buy it though. There’s no such thing as magic, just science we don’t understand yet. The argument sounds like a joke as the horses step towards the mighty gates of the castle. Of Valhalla.

The deep bows performed by anyone you pass aren’t meant for you but the princes and maybe the dark-haired woman. Sif. Not the Sif from the myths, though, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding? This woman looks like a warrior, tall and strong upon the horse, with shield and sword at her sides. There’s no smile on her lips and she’s not once bothered to look at you as opposed to the Asgardians you’ve passed on the way through the city.

Turning slightly to face Loki, you whisper: “Who erm…the stern lady, who’s that again?”

An amused twitch of his lips light his eyes with a sparkle of green. “She is Lady Sif, a dear friend of my brother and me and among the bravest of warriors in Asgard…she is also the grumpiest after having been proven wrong –“

“Wrong?!” A clear voice cuts through from up ahead. “There was not, as I pointed out, any tracks or camps indicating the arrival of foreign forces.”

Both men chuckle good-naturedly, and you can’t help adore the rumble passing to you from Loki’s chest. It feels familiar to listen to the three of them teasing each other, feigning horror of being “abandoned alone”, and reminiscing on past rescues where Sif seems to have been more than capable to save the men’s asses. Royalty or not, the friendship is stronger than the ranks, helping you forget that part until it’s time to dismount.

“Brother, lady Sif,” Loki calls out while detangling himself from the cloak and allowing you to keep it, “go ahead and explain mother and the All-Father that we have a guest in need of a caring hand.”

Of course they find the suggestion reasonable, leaving you alone with the dark-haired man. Turquoise eyes beam up at you. How did he get down there so elegantly? Wordlessly, you slide into the waiting arms that bring you safely to the ground only for his hands linger on your waist as you stand impossibly close to him. Holy smoke, he’s handsome! Perfectly sharp lines softened by an almost eerie grace that you would’ve attributed the elves of the fantasy stories you once read. Thin but soft lips made more beautiful by a gentle smile. Hair so black you almost suspect it’s not real hair but magic – magic which you of course don’t believe in. Now he is looking down at you, the eyes have deepened in the shadows until they are endless pools of dark green and midnight blue with silver streaks.

“Allow me,” the perfect man murmurs before adjusting the cloak around you, closing the golden clasp by your sternum.

…

The grand hall with the king on the throne placed at the veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery far end makes you feel tiny. Not tiny the way a child in a grown up world does, or the way that stargazing will make you feel insignificant in the grand scheme of things. No, this is tiny in the way an insect must feel as the human tries to determine if it’s a mosquito or not. Thankfully, Odin is convinced by more than just Loki that you’re no pest but a frail butterfly that should be nursed and eventually relocated to the natural habitat; and queen Frigga takes charge of your wellbeing, bringing you to a room bigger than your apartment where she provides clothes and food for you before leaving you to do as you please.

Even though the guest room supposedly is “sparsely” decorated it still falls in line with the style of the castle. Woven tapestry covering parts of the bare walls with images of landscapes and plants so vivid it might actually have been portals to those places; soft carpets forming islands on the stone floor upon which heavy furniture of ornately carved wood and golden metals rest; windows offering a view to the palace gardens – a view that is echoed in the enormous mirror above the fireplace. The canopy bed isn’t far from another door which turns out to lead to the bathroom of your dreams. The choice is made. Bath first.

…

The old, knitted blanket is neatly folded on the bed, looking out of place against the silks and furs but bringing a tad of homey comfort to the weird situation you’re stuck in. The emerald cloak is resting next to it, waiting for a chance to be returned to the rightful owner. Instead of wearing any of those two items, you’ve dressed yourself in the softest tunic and leather pants, a wide strip of emerald cloth wrapping around the waist of the brown and white ensemble. It might not be what the queen would have chosen, but it’s the least foreign you could find in a closet full of dresses and cloaks and it allows you to sit comfortably curled up in the broad windowsill to enjoy the delicate cold meal with the best view.

A knock on the door and a voice calling for you softly. You immediately know who it is and call out for him to enter.

…   Loki PoV   …

She does as I do. All his youth, the prince has favoured sitting by the glass if he could not go outside. To see [Y/N] do the same warms his heart.

“I hope you find everything to your liking?”

His question makes her smile broadly for the first time, melting the frown away that had seemed near permanent since he first laid eyes on her upon the hilltop. The bright eyes never abandoned the curious intellect that captivates him, but to see the glimmer of joy there…perhaps this unwanted adventure will not break her spirit.

“It’s great. Thank you.”

Sliding from the seat, she walks to the bed to pick up something, yet Loki only has eyes for the green sash accentuating the waist and the faint shade of her skin beneath the white tunic. The fabric is wet on the shoulders and the seam of the neck from where the water has soaked in from her hair.

“Here,” suddenly she stands before him, teeth worrying softly at the plump lower lip, “it’s…erm…thanks for letting me borrow…it…”

How can it be so awkward being near the only one that feels right? “My honour, m’lady.”

Fingers brush against each other as he takes the bundle from her, begging him to linger, to say anything merely to hear her voice once more. Electric warmth tingles where she has touched him now and before.

“Why…” she begins, but then must think better of it.

“You may ask anything of me.”

“You call me my lady…but I’m not royalty.”

Neither are you mine, yet my heart sings to you. “Noble blood is not all there is to being a lady.” The answer elicits the sweetest shyness that heats her cheeks. “And furthermore…I may have a say in who is deemed worthy of titles, so if I wished for you to be a lady…I could sway the powers that be.”

“Oh?” A single eyebrow raises in challenge. “You can do anything? What else can you make me?”

“Happy?”

The magic Loki possesses is not strong enough to undo time, if it was then he would wind back a few seconds now to unsay that single word. The prettiest eyes he has ever been lost in open wide, the lips barely part to free a soft gasp of surprise at his boldness. Fool! The derogatory is far from the only one he mentally yells at himself, already stepping backwards out the door as he tries to formulate an apology.

“Wait…” Frozen in place he cannot bear to look at her. “You already saved me, prince Loki, but I do have a…a…plea…”

There is an unexpected gentleness to her voice, compelling the man to look up with hope. “Anything.”

“Please…show me your favourite place to be on your own?”

…   Reader PoV   …

You’re wearing his cape again, but this time he has brought one for himself too. The horse you share with him is the same as well just like the nerves that surge through your body from the constant pressure of his chest against your back.

None of you speak as the animal carries you through the city under the curious scrutiny of the citizens. What are they thinking? Hopefully nothing mean. It’s not like you’re likely to get to see (or at least recognize) them again before you’ll be…what? Frigga had promised that you’d be brought home, but that the king must see to the safety of his so-called realm first – in this case by gleaning some information from you or the place you had arrived at. There was no doubt the kind treatment mainly is due to the friendliness of the queen and her sons. Her son. Yes, despite the generous hospitality you have convinced Loki to take you away from the safety of the gorgeous room at your disposal on some impulsive whim that has you begging for the familiarity of your hill…but that hill is worlds away and you could only think of one person understanding what you might need.

While you’ve been pondering, the city has drifted away behind you, allowing the horse to gallop full speed in the broken darkness where everything appears in tones of grey. Maybe it knows the way. Maybe Loki is that good of a rider. Regardless, you feel safe under the alien stars as the creature thunders along an unseen road and onto a beach. There’s a steady rumble of waves sloshing against the shore, splashing high enough to wet your bare feet. Far beyond the waters, though not as far as you would expect, is the endlessness of space dazzling you.

Warm breath fans your chin for a second before it’s swept away. “Merely a moment longer, my lady.”

He is true to his word, of course. When you dismount, you follow a path off the beach to the top of a scraggy cliffside and continue no more than a couple of meters around a boulder until the two of you reach a natural shelf with the night sky reaching above and beyond. Constellations of stars (similar and different from those seen from home) make room for swirling galaxies the closer to the horizon you look.

“This is…” you try to explain the calming effect the place has on you only to find words aren’t enough.

It fuels a longing for somewhere you don’t know yet while giving you a sense of belonging because really…what else is there? Places, planets, will come and go through the endless eons while you’re nothing but a tiny blip that has been granted the chance to witness the vastness of it all, to be a part of it, and form the lives of those around you whichever way you see fit. It’s comforting that nothing you can do will be so bad they can mess up the grand scheme of things, while daunting to know that the time you have is full of endless possibilities.

“I know.”

Behind you, Loki has spread out a roll of fur on the ground for you both to sit on, leaning calmly against the cliff with his long legs stretched before him. Absurdly aware of your body, you join him while carefully keeping just a few inches of distance.

None of you try to fill the time with speaking, that’s not the reason for this place to exist. Cosmic clouds show off the brilliance of the newborn stars they hold while suns belonging to other planets blink as if sending signals in Morse code. A particular bright one has a green glow to it that reminds you of the eyes of the man beside you, and the thought alone sends a fluttery cascade of excitement through your chest.

This is ridiculous! A night bird tests the quiet air from somewhere further in land. I can’t be falling for him…it’s just…just the foreign feel of it all. The haphazard notes take shape of a gentle melody which quiets your frantic mind. How silly of you to think that there are any other feelings at play here than those logically ignited by being stranded. On a planet from old Norse mythology. Surrounded by people that have been known and sort of forgotten by humans for a thousand years. All very logical, yes. Sighing, you allow your head to fall back against the stone and the more normal-looking stars twinkle above.

“I am sorry, lady [Y/N].”

Glancing over, you can see how he’s looking at you with concern. “You don’t need to call me lady…just [Y/N] is fine.”

The nod and smile are subtle but still manage to send waves of warmth from your toes to the top of your head. “Very well…” the prince concedes, “allow me to forego formalities completely.”

“O-okaaay…”

“It is nigh impossible for any of us to understand how you must feel.” He covers your hand that’s resting on your thigh, sending electricity tickling through your veins. “And I fear I may be out of place when I confess…it warms my heart to have brought you some comfort by sharing this place with you.”

Loki has turned towards you, leaning close enough for you to wish for more as the mesmerizing eyes draw you in. If only you were to stretch a little extra. Or maybe let your fingertips brush the stray locks of black hair from his face. All the wonders of the universe seem to fade away as your hand moves on its own and the gentle man’s face comes closer yet to yours almost like he –

“My son.” The voice belongs to the queen. “Lady [Y/N].”

Seconds later, Frigga slips past the boulder and into view of Loki, who already has jumped to his feet, and you. Your face is burning, but at least the starlight won’t reveal neither that nor the harsh scolding you give yourself silently.

…   Loki PoV   …

Naturally, mother insists on being chatty company on the way home. She even takes it upon herself to see first [Y/N] to the room too before looping her arm into his and leading the way to his chambers. The prince knows Frigga is preparing to say something and that the sudden silence is a sign of her choosing her words carefully…after all, she is the true diplomat in the relationship with Odin.

“What is it, mother?” Loki sighs, knowing that the last paces to his door will not save him. “Do you not appreciate our guest?”

“Oh, my dear, you know I do,” she pokes him teasingly, but her face regains the severe calmness just as quickly as the joy had flared, “yet as you say…she is merely our guest. Lady [Y/N] comes from another world to which she must return.”

Although the words are true, Loki finds he is loath to hear them. People throughout the verses move from one place to another every day in the hope of finding shelter, work, or even love. As the second son, should it be impossible for him to do the same if he was wanted elsewhere? If I ask her…would she…? But Odin would refuse any possibility, leaving only one option.

“Of course,” tracing the line in his palm as though nothing of import was being discussed, he shrugs, “that is to be expected. She belongs on Midgard.”

“Loki, my son, please listen to me.” Stopping them both, Frigga grabs his hands in both of hers. “The Midgardians live short lives. Burning bright until their light is snuffed out all too soon whereas we live for thousand of years with the ghosts of their memories and a hollow ache left in their place. Please, protect yourself…let her go.”

Stunned at Frigga’s words, there is no answer readily available to the normally sharp-tongued god. Is this experience talking? But his mother has already kissed his cheek and left his side without giving Loki an opportunity to ask the many questions burning in his heart.

…

He brings [Y/N] to the garden the next day to enjoy the sun beaming down upon the fragrant lilies and roses of any colour. Again, she has chosen the simple clothes of trousers and tunic (this time one of light yellow silk) fitted with a sash, catching surprised glances from passing servants and members of the court which [Y/N] deftly ignores. Walking barefoot over the grass, she begs to know about life on Asgard and Loki is more than happy to tell. Nearly forgotten tales of mischief from his childhood are recovered and exchanged in return for a bubbling laughter echoed by the cheerful melodies of thrush and lark. As evening draws near, casting the garden in cool shadows, they are still deeply engrossed in conversation when Frigga finds them.

“Lady [Y/N],” the queen smiles sweetly, “I do apologize for interrupting such pleasant times…however, I do insist that you are made ready for tonight’s feast.”

“Feast?” A glimmer of anxiety widens the guest’s [Y/E/C] eyes. “Made re- erm…how so, your majesty?”

Loki stands to bid them goodbye, knowing that this is a moment for his mother to explain what has been arranged for the night, and although the prince would love to be a fly on the wall during that conversation, he himself has been lax in regard to the day’s tasks.

….

Unable to detain himself any longer, the youngest prince has already made his way to the dining hall in hope of distractions in the company of his brother, lady Sif, and the Warriors Three. Together, they form a merry group of friends where honesty is valued regardless of rank, normally leading to witty banter.

“Loki…Loki!” Fandral pokes the prince in question on the shoulder. “Where is your mind, my friend?”

He is not ready to admit it, but the raven-haired man had been lost in the memory of the glow of the Midgardian’s skin as she basked in the sun earlier that day. All through the chores, Loki had found himself unfocused, earning him more than one tumble during sparring as Thor now reveals.

Sif considers the subject of the laughter with a smirk on the lips. “One might think it’s the presence of the lady [Y/N], or am I wrong?”

“I always take an interest in our guests and their well being.” A simple answer meant to hide the flutter in his heart at the mere mention of the foreign woman.

“Does that mean, little brother…” Thor’s heavy arms lands around the shoulder of the sibling, “…that you do not find anything particularly compelling about…that.” With those words, he spins Loki around to face the doors at the far end.

There is no need to search for what (or rather: who) the crown prince refers to, and Loki allows the world around him to fall away with the exception of her. Her. The sweet memory of [Y/N]’s voice as she laughed in the garden grows in power, becoming a summon controlling Loki’s heart and soul. How…when did it come to this? Frigga’s warning is not forgotten, yet…how can she know? The risk of abandoning a love like the one he is feeling, to never live as true and blessed as his existence could be at her side must be far crueler than spending the summer in her sun before facing the winter of his life alone.

Love? No…I should not give in. But then [Y/N] smiles at him and he is lost.

…   Reader PoV   …

Frigga had promised to help you get ready…you had just never in your wildest dream imagined how much that would entail. At least the queen is lovely and intelligent company. Very intelligent. Maybe Asgardians can read minds (or at least they’re intuitive) because it wasn’t not long before she had you spilling the secret you’ve barely dared admit to yourself, the two of you chatting like you had been friends all your lives. It had felt good. Splendid, actually, because home on earth there’s no one for you like that.

And now? At this moment, none of the confidence-inducing cheerfulness is left within you as you set foot in the dining hall, once again reminded of the fact that you’re an alien stranded in a fairy tale full of magic and heroes. Every one of the Asgardians in the room is oozing with majestic grace. They belong. You’re a cheap copy although Frigga has dressed you in the most beautiful dress of gold and blue before fitting you with jewels to match. At the time you had felt like a princess, now you want to hide. Scanning the crowd, you try to find the queen, hoping that she will be occupied by someone, allowing you to slip away – you see Loki instead.

…

Your prince, as you’ve teasingly taken to call Loki in return, has been at your side all night and time has passed in the blink of an eye. Eyes of turquoise green that see into your soul even now as you walk slowly through the moonlit garden to cool down.

I’ll miss him. The thought is unwelcome, tarnishing the joy you’ve experienced at the feast where the princes and Sif have introduced you to their friends, all of them including you in the raucous company as though you were one of them. I wish I was. It’s an impossible dream, made all the more dismal by the sense of belonging you feel around Loki.

“Lady [Y/N],” his voice wavers slightly as he strokes a wetness from your cheek, “do not be saddened…I promise your safe return home.”

But that’s not what I want. “Sorry…d- I…sorry.” Tearing away, you stumble half-blinded by the sudden tears down the first path available but soon find yourself at a dead end among the roses.

How could I be so stupid?! Wiping angrily at your face to stop the blubbering, you try to recall all the good reasons for going back to Earth…there just aren’t any that you wouldn’t be able to replace. No family or friends to speak of anymore. And sure, the work and colleagues are alright but it’s nothing that brings you a sense of home.

“[Y/N]?” It doesn’t scare you that Loki is much closer than anticipated. “It pains my heart to see such sorrow,” he mumbles while folding you in his arms, “I will do anything in my power to…to…”

Words falter and instinct takes over. Holding your close, he tugs your head against his shoulder. Strong fingers stroke your back and head gently while you calm down, and you slowly become aware of the kisses your prince plants of your hair and temple.

“Thank you, Loki.” A soft whisper is all you can muster.

“Always, my love.”

Both of you freeze for a second, unsure if he really has spoken those words, but when you lift your head to meet his gaze there’s no doubt. Nothing needs to be said or explained, the silence allowing a calming warmth to grow inside your chest. You can feel your heart swell. Heal. When his lips meet yours (hesitantly at first) it makes your soul sing.

“Please.” Breaking away briefly, Loki gasps. “Stay with me…or let me come with you! We well find a way.”

There is barely time to answer and you hope the renewed caresses speak for you. “Always.”

[chimbu617]

A HTTYD Micro Memoir of the Past Ten Years

     It was 2010. I was 8. I just moved to a new town and as someone who was bad at trying to talk to people, I spent all my free time in my imagination and/or with my brother. He was my best friend and we did everything together.      My parents weren't big on going to theaters especially with an 8 and 12-year-old. So whenever we watched the newest, latest movie it was always through Red Box, they somehow always got for free. They rented two movies. I don't remember how they picked them out, if it was their or mine and my brother's choice. One night, after dinner, they popped in a disc and played the movie for us. I vividly remember how I felt sitting in our faux leather couch, cuddled up with a blanket in a dark room, focused on the movie.      The camera swoops in over a vast ocean in the dead of night. Pillers of stone carvings extruded out of the water with fire burning inside the mouths. In the distance, a beautiful island inhabited with wooden shacks. Small specs of fire can be seen in the village. Over this is a voice-over by the lead character, "This is Berk." A line that will follow me throughout the next 10 years of my life.      I spent the rest of that year dreaming of owning a terrible terror and have a friend to explore my world with. Of course, that was virtually impossible. Jump to 2012. I was 11. The first episode of Dragons: Riders of Berk aired. My brother and I begged our parents to record the series and we watched it religiously. We jumped into my bed turned on my tv and grew immensely excited for this world we both developed a love for.      I remember how I watched Heather first be introduced and immediately hating her character from the moment she was on screen. I created a self insert character where "I" washed up onto berk after a shipwreck with amnesia. I always thought that Heather stole my premise and then ruined it by betraying the main characters. I now enjoy her character and look back on my childish foolishness.      I guess my mom at some point stopped recording the show after my brother moved out and I grew out of the show, but not the fandom. 2013, I was 12 and just started 7th grade. The teaser trailer of the second movie came out and I watched it with awe. I was conflicted by the redesign of Hiccup yet I probably watched that trailer more times than I could count. I met my best friend and we both spent our time in science class drawing. She convinced me to start drawing actually. I spent that time drawing and watching crack compilations for Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons.      I never stopped my love for the world despite not having a lot of content to fill in the void in my heart. I ended up teaching myself Viking/Celtic runes, so I could read the text in the movie and show. It was 2014 when I taught one of my friends in my 8th grade English class the runes so we could pass notes in class. We wrote notes that absolutely made no sense but had so much fun knowing that we were the only ones who understood it. Our teacher caught us passing the note and took it from us. The look on her face was priceless. She looked frustrated and confused. She gave us a baffled look and continued on with class without a word.      I wasn't able to watch the second movie in the theater either. I ended up pirating it off some streaming site. I laughed and cried. At his death, my parents came in to ask if I was ok.      Several weeks after my 14th birthday in 2015, Race to the Edge's first season was released onto Netflix. I ended up binging all of Riders of Berk and Defenders of Berks in a few nights. I cried when I saw Stoick alive again and revived my undying love for this franchise.      January of 2016, my brother called me and asked if I had seen the new season of Race to the Edge. I ended up watching only a few episodes before falling out of interest in the series.     In December of 2017, I decided to catch up with the show. I would wake up, go to school, go home, did homework, binge as many episodes as I could and repeat. Soon after I finished it was 2018 and the new and last season was released. I had my friend come over to spend the night and I straight up said "Sorry, but I want to watch this" and she had to sit there and watch the show without any context of prior seasons. For Halloween that year that same friend and I ended up dressing up as Hiccup and Jack Frost. My mom gave me a stuffed toothless she was holding for Christmas for my costume. Some older lady told me she liked my plush cat.      When I found out about The Hidden World coming out my friend group and I decided to go see it in theaters. I accidentally overslept that day and rushed to the theaters where my friends were waiting. One of them ended up buying a ticket for me, refusing to accept my money when I offered to pay him back. There aren't words to describe my emotions in those few seconds the Dreamworks logo played. I was excited at being able to finally see one of the movies in the franchise in theaters. Although I started to feel my heart being pulled apart by tiny strings attached to the muscle. I then realized in that small amount of time that, this was it. This was the end. No more. That everything I watched, learned, waited for was for this moment. The dragon classes and types I learned, the runes I used, the music I would close my eyes to and imagine I was in a different world, and the reality in front of me ever since I was a child that I could never live in this world. It was all in front of me.      The movie played, and sure I laughed at Tuff, watched in awe at the beautiful plant and sand animation, cried at their parting, and rejoiced at their reunion. As I left the theaters though I couldn't help but think, "It was better than expected but not as good as I hoped". Whenever someone asked me my thoughts of the movie I would tell them those exact words. Looking back now, I don't know what I hoped for it to be. A happier ending? No, I came into this expecting the loss of dragons. A more interesting villain? I can't think of any better villain for the context of the scenario. I left it as such. I hoped for better yet knew not of what I hoped for.     It was winter break in 2019 and I left my dorm to go home and visit my family. The first night I was back my mom said she recorded something for me. I sat in the recliner as my cat snuggled into my lap and my mom started up Homecoming. I appreciated the fact that my parents haven't seen the second or third movie, yet sat through Homecoming with no context for me. This last Thursday, the 19th of March, I was working on my theater assignment mid-quarantine and randomly had the desire to watch Ratatouille. As I finished the film it reminded me of How to Train Your Dragon. With the whole human and animal bond that overcomes the differences between the two species to work together. I ended up wanting to watch the film again. As I watched it, I thought to myself, just the first movie, right? As I started The Hidden World, I thought to myself, just the movies, right? As I started Riders of Berk, I thought to myself, just the pre-time skip series, right? As I started Race to the Edge, I thought to myself, I need to drop my Biology course since I'm gonna fail.      When I rewatched the third movie all my original doubts on the film vanished. At the end when Hiccup decided to let Toothless go, I didn't cry. But, when Hiccup tells us, the viewer, that dragons were waiting for us to get along, I sobbed, more than I did any other time watching the entire series in the last 10 years. I realized two completely separate things. We as humans will never earn the right to have dragons, as we will never get our crap together. We are filled with corrupted morals and mindsets and will ruin everything and anything we get ahold of. The second thing was something I experienced earlier. Though I was afraid of the end I was so used to things claiming to be over and then the creators ending up making more for a cash grab. In that moment of watching 30-year-old Hiccup throw his son into the air, I realized that this was it. This was the end. The end of the movie, the end of the story, and the end of a large part of my childhood.      When I graduated high school I cried in my car after our practice run. I was growing up and I would have to be leaving everything I had known until then behind. It was Troll Hunters a series I started before I moved into my dorm that helped me calm down and move into a new place. It helped me understand that I can't just change and leave what I love behind. I can take it with me beyond this line I drew myself. The past few days changed that though. I couldn't take my beloved world across the line with me. It will forever be chained into my past as something I can look back on yet have no expectations for any future with it. I cried because there was nothing in my hands that I could do to keep what I loved with me. But, with Stoick's words "With love comes loss, that's part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it's all worth it."      Thank you How to Train Your Dragon. You have given me so much. More than I could say. More than I know. We have grown up together, but now it's time for both of us to move on. Time for me to let you go.

Whoever stuck around until the end, thank you. I felt I had to write this as my fingers were itching for it. This is just a first draft but I doubt I’m ever coming back to this. I wanted to do something for the anniversary but like I said I didnt start getting back into httyd until the last 2 weeks and I just found out. I wrote this in like 2-3 hours, and I’m suprised at myself for powering through it. I’m still working on writing personal memoir pieces so excuse my skills. Anyways thank you again and Happy Ten Year Anniversary HTTYD!

[fan-writer02]

Requested by @we-are-not-the-losechesters. I hope this is what you had in mind. :)) Enjoy!

Ghost

Astrid could always tell when Hiccup was hiding something.

And it was difficult to see at times. I mean, there were situations where Hiccup was so obviously hiding something, even the twins realized it. But that was usually for silly things, like he’d accidentally set Snotlout’s undies that’d been drying by the Forge on fire, or something equally as ridiculous. 

Then, there were times that were severe. When something was hurting him- badly- and he refused to tell. She knew he hated being put on the spot, hated being the center of attention- especially the center of pity- and over the years he’d gotten all too good at hiding it.

But, she found a way to tell. Toothless. The dragon always trailed behind Hiccup when he was in turmoil, physical or not. Toothless could sense it better then anyone else, so Astrid observed.

Once, after a patrol on a rainy night, Hiccup came back acting completely normal. At first witness, you’d think he was fine. But with Toothless’s constant crooning, or soft nudges at Hiccup’s arm, Astrid knew something wasn’t quite right. She asked, and he’d laughed it off, saying he was fine and why did she ask? Turns out he’d contracted a raging fever.

She had crossed her arms and frowned. It was almost scary how good he’d gotten at lying. Once upon a time, he’d have stuttered out the fib, giving away that there was indeed something wrong, and he was poorly hiding it.

But never had Astrid actually seen Hiccup admit when something was wrong. Someone would always have to ask, and even then, he wouldn’t always admit it. It was one of those things that he was so gosh darned stubborn about. Like his Dad. Astrid had never seen Stoick say something hurt. Even that one time his arm had been burnt from the tip of his fingers clear up to his shoulder, he hadn’t uttered a single complaint. 

Astrid wondered if Hiccup was conscious of that fact, and hence he wanted to prove his father that he was just as strong. Astrid had thought he’d gotten over the whole “prove-I’m-a-true-Viking” thing, but maybe she was wrong. 

Either that, or it was just him being stupidly stubborn. Could be a bad combination of both.

Either way, she’d learned that no amount of telling Hiccup to actually tell people when something was wrong would get him to do it, so, she adopted to other ways of finding out.

Hence: Toothless. A dead giveaway.

And that’s exactly how she found out that Hiccup had phantom pains.

The first time it happened, Hiccup had walked into the club house, unusually quiet. None of the other’s noticed, chatting amiably over the table as they ate their breakfast. But Astrid noticed how Hiccup’s steps were short, how he boar a little falter when he placed his metal foot on the floor. She saw the shine of sweat beneath his hair, and how pale his face had become.

But what was the dead give away was how close Toothless was to Hiccup’s side. You’d think they were glued together. The dragon’s nose was pressed at Hiccup’s left hip, and an occasional whine would rumble in the back of his throat. 

She didn’t know what was wrong, but she knew it was something. So, telling Hiccup she wanted to talk to him- in private- she led him outside the hut, Toothless following close behind.

“Something’s wrong.” She said firmly. Hiccup’s face flashed to concern.

“What? Is it Viggo? Astrid, we need to-”

Before he could rush back inside with orders for the gang, she grabbed his arm. She was surprised to see he almost fell, and probably would’ve had Toothless not been so close by. His breathing was abnormally heavy.

“No, that’s not what I mean... Hiccup, I know there’s something bothering you- you’re sweating buckets and I can feel the heat through your sleeve.”

He looked away without a word. With a shake of his head, he said certainly. “I’m fine.”

Astrid’s heart ached for him, and yet, she couldn’t help but feel hopelessly frustrated. Why wouldn’t he just... tell her when something was wrong? 

Grabbing his other hand (Which, she noted, was cold and clammy), she asked quietly. “Please, Hiccup, tell me what’s wrong?”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. The only sounds to be heard were the twins arguing from within the club house. 

“M-my leg...” He finally whispered. Toothless warbled worriedly. Gesturing with his free hand towards his prosthetic, he explained. “I-it... sometimes feels like it’s there... but, not there...” He shivered again, prompting Astrid to step a little closer. “I’m fine, truly, Astrid. It always stops after awhile-”

She jerked her head up. “This has happened before?” He pressed his lips together, a silent answer. “Hiccup... you need to tell us- any one of us- when stuff like this happens. It’ll be the death of you.” She tried to sound angry, but she truly couldn’t, because she wasn’t. Not really. Not when he was shaking so badly he could barely stay on his feet (foot). 

Looping his arm over her shoulder, and wrapping her arm around his back, she began leading him towards his hut. Toothless didn’t leave his side for a second, still pressed close to his left hip.

Astrid wasn’t truly panicked until Hiccup passed out halfway to his hut. Toothless went absolutely berserk, jumping about frantically only to return to slobber Hiccup’s face in dragon drool, before bounding off again in a frenzy. Astrid, as strong as she was, didn’t want to hurt Hiccup further by dragging him to his hut. Slowly, she lowered him to the wooden walk way in the shade of one of the dragon’s posts, letting his head rest in her lap. 

She didn’t know what to do. She’d seen phantom pains before. Her own father had had them with his missing hand. Some nights, as a little girl, she remembered hearing screams from somewhere outside. Her mother would always say it was a dragon in the night, probably wounded in a trap. But the older Astrid became, she realized that it had in fact been her father during bad bouts of phantom pains. She’d asked Gobber about them, and he’d explained it as “Ya feel like theh flesh is bein’ ripped clean of yer bones.” 

And who knows how long Hiccup had been holding the pain in. He must be exhausted.

She didn’t know how else to relieve the pain, besides being there to help him through it. She brushed her hand over his forehead, not happy with the heat that emanated from it. She hoped he wouldn’t grow ill when the bout was over.

Lifting her head to make sure no one was watching, Astrid carefully pressed a kiss to his forehead, blushing sheepishly after doing so. She quickly cleared her throat and adjusted her position, trying to forget she’d done it.

It wasn’t until late that night that Hiccup was finally up and about again without anymore pain then a slight ache. But, before he even left the bed, Astrid had threatened that if he did not, from there on out, tell them when he was having a phantom pain, she’d personally tan his hide when it was over. (Of course, she didn’t really mean it. In fact, she was fairly certain that even if he did promise, he wouldn’t hold up to it. Stupid Viking pride.)

[lokikingofasgardslover713]

Forgotten Gods: 4

1   2   3  5   6   7   8

MASTERLIST

Loki Laufeyson x Plus!Size Reader

Words: +4,400

Warnings: SMUT THIS CHAPTER! Consensual, reader is of age, I'm putting her around +21, but being Aesir she is technically decades old, but when doing the math, you get the picture. And this one is, rocky, heart break, you all will probably hate me after this one. I did bad things to Loki.

A/N: Sigyn/Siggy means victorious girlfriend or wife in old Norse. Ostmen are what the Vikings called themselves, seeress is just as it sounds a prophet, Danelagh or Danelaw is England and Norrvegr is modern day Norway. The name Gyda mean warlike in Old Norse.

Vǫlva= Viking for witch, usually old woman witch but I changed it up

Note on Viking wedding traditions: I sped some of the traditions up really fast! It normally takes years for Vikings to marry. I will leave a link, so you can see for yourself. But I kept with their traditions though mush aren’t known. Viking Wedding Tradition

For the past day, Y/N remained lying next to Bjorn’ wounded side, his arm thrown around her, Y/N dozing off when he was breathing easy & waking when he struggled for breath. Around midday their second day at sea, thank the gods they were calm for once, Y/N heard his chest rattle differently, prompting her to sit up quickly, looking down at him in darkness the candle she had lit that morning had extinguished itself, a bad omen.

“Bjorn,” Y/N unused voice rasped out, sitting up in the silk soft deer skin shift that he had gifted her with when they landed, before it all…

“Gyda, I,” he began, letting out a pained rasp, sounding like his breath was caught in his chest.

“No,” Y/N whimpered silently, knowing what this was & panic took over her body.

Flicking her wrist out to the candles, the room instantly lit up with the light that they provided, Y/N gently straddling over Bjorn’ thighs, careful not to jar the bleeding hole that he had gotten from a hatchet only a day ago. Looking from the wound to his paling face, he was dying, no he couldn’t die, this wasn’t fare, Y/N had found something familiar, something, someone that was to be hers when they reached Norrvegr &…

“Bjorn, please,” Y/N breathed out slackly leaning down to cup his pale, clammy cheeks, cherishing them & trying to keep the tears back.

“It's ok,” he rasped out, his face contorting in pain reaching up to lay a hand on her cheek, it was burning hot against the coolness of her own but gladly Y/N leaned into it.

“I go to Valhalla,” he informed her with a smile when Y/N opened her eyes to look at him, catching the tear that followed & continuing to smile at her.

“It would be very informative if you would tell me where you plan to send us every time we come here,” Loki bit out towards Thor, both getting the hang of being transported by Frigga’ seidr & not stumbling around like new born foals.

“It would be wouldn’t it,” Thor quipped back, taking in his brothers annoyed look before adding, “if I knew I would tell you, but mother keeps that secret even from me, best so that Heimdall or father doesn’t find out.”

“Understood,” was all Loki commented, turning from Thor to survey the area, it looked to be Norrvegr, but it seemed they where set out more inland, towards tip of the continent.

Both brothers looking around to find where they had been sat out & realizing that a road wasn’t far from where Frigga had put them. They would have to disguise themselves, Loki realized & called on his seidr to cover them in drab clothing so as not to attract attention.

“We should have brought horses,” Thor commented, looking over to the younger god who nodded in agreement, they wanted to avoid being seen as royalty, it would draw undue attention from more than the Ostmen.

Walking in silence for several miles, Loki finally decided to voice a worry that was beginning to nag at him, something he knew couldn’t last forever.

“How long do think mother can keep calling to the darkness like this,” he finally spoke to his older brother who let out a quiet sigh and looked over to meet his worried gaze before looking back to the road ahead.

“I'm not sure, it takes a toll on her even now,” Thor breathed out sounding defeated, thundering sounding far off.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Loki apologized to Thor, hinting to the thunder that sounded, but it felt as though it calmed slightly at his apology.

“It's fine brother, for the past, Norns knows how many nights, it keeps me awake, along with the nightmares,” Thor admitted to his brother, something Loki knew of himself, but didn’t let Thor know he heard him, though faint, calling out to Y/N & himself.

Thor didn’t have the stomach to tell Loki that he had a reoccurring nightmare of Loki falling from the Bifrost into the abyss, it sickened him every time he had that dream, & in it Loki cursed him beforehand. The two battling it out in the gate room, blue energy bolting around them & moving to the Bifrost. His younger brother continuing to curse at him about how he treated him, how he never helped to find Y/N, how he never protected her, & of the undying love that Loki felt, a love that since Y/N was never returned had turned his heart to stone, making him lash out at Thor and Odin.

“Brother,” Loki almost yelled worry crossing his features Thor coming out of his thoughts to realize that the sky had grown dark & it was beginning to drizzle when he looked at Loki.

“What is it,” Thor spoke up, calming the storm, thankful the imagery wasn’t real, & looking out to where Loki directed, a village, one that looked to be well populated.

“Good, let us find Y/N shall we,” Thor smiled, all be it fake & pained over at his brother, hoping that he didn’t pummel him into the ground for saying her name out loud though thankfully over the past few days it had passed Loki’ lips dozens of times.

“My Siggy,” Loki breathed so that only he would hear & not Thor, looking to the village in hope that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“No, I can’t,” her voice continued to shake, one hand releasing his cheek to go to the wound in his side, as if she could do something.

The gentle rocking of the ship felt as if it was trying to lull Bjorn to rest, his breath growing shallower, raspier, & Y/N absentmindedly tuning into it to match it sending herself into a deeper panic. Calling the seidr out of instinct, not realizing what she did until it began to take over both their bodies, not looking away from Bjorn’ hazing steel blue eyes.

“Gyda, Gyda, it's ok, don’t shed another tear for me, call it back you will weaken yourself,” Bjorn reassured her, calling back to how Y/N had to be carried onto the ship & placed in his bed with him because she had weakened from defending them, was he breathing easier?

“I want weaken myself,” she retorted, the room suddenly filled with a loud sickening snap that was all to audible & Bjorn letting out a pained growl that echoed around the room letting go of her face to hold to his injured side.

Blinded by her own seidr, Y/N continued to stare down at Bjorn, not seeing or hearing anything, but speaking, actually speaking with the seidr, telling it to heal him, like a conversation between old friends. A light pat to her burning cheek made her focus on Bjorn who was sitting up, holding her in his lap & looking healthy. Had she died & went to Valhalla with him?

“Gyda, look at me, I need you to focus lover,” he breathed, snapping her out of it, the pet name lover threatening to bring forth a memory but was forgotten the moment Y/N realized he was breathing easy hands wrapped around her cheeks , bringing her down out of her panic.

“Bjorn,” she finally spoke, eyes clearing, focusing, looking to his very being before he pulled her face to his & crashed their lips together, Y/N allowing his tongue entrance.

There tongues tangled fighting for dominance while Bjorn took the opportunity to gently push Y/N legs back so that he had a chance to free himself, but it seemed she was just as inpatient, hands jerked at the already loose tie, a sigh of frustration at how the leather didn’t want to give.

“Fuck,” Y/N breathed into his mouth in frustration, while Bjorn swallowed it up like a man parched, speaking with the seidr about the troublesome pants & no time they were in the floor.

“So impatient,” Bjorn laughed into her mouth, breaking the kiss to push her up, jerking the shift over her head but keeping it so it bound her arms behind her back, back arching to press soft breast in his face while Y/N scooted closer to grind on a rock-hard cock.

“So are you,” Y/N breathed out, sitting up to tease the head of his cock with her already dripping wet cunt, jerking her arms free from the shift for him to throw to the floor.

Bjorn pulled down on Y/N thick hip with one hand while the other went to the nape of her neck to pull her down for a  kiss, thrusting up to meet her only to be teased, sweat begging to bead on their bodies & not due to the seidr or his health.

“Fuck, Gyda, please don’t tease,” he spoke into her mouth, pulling hard at her hip, his grip desperate & bruising.

Finally giving, allowing him to tug her onto his cock to swallow down the moan she released as he stretched her in all the right ways. Allowing her to still because, even though she wasn’t untouched she still felt as if she was. He had no desire to hurt her, looking up into her face, a slight twinge coming to it as if from pain, and hoping that it wasn’t him as he gently rocked her hips to test the waters.

Sinking onto his cock made her mind set on fire, the flicker of something familiar running rampant through her pounding skull, why was this familiar? Another flicker, one of gold, green & black leathers. Silver short swords embellished with wolves, emeralds, no emerald eyes, a sea of green satin, while shoulder length black hair tickled along her stomach.

Her gut twisting, this was wrong, but it was right, it was pain & it was pleasure. Forcing eyes to open & the fleeting memory away because of the head splitting pain that it caused, filling nauseous when looking down into steel blue eyes. Something nagging at her that they should be emerald but brushing it off when his voice reached her ears.

“Gyda, am I hurting you,” Bjorn asked gently, guiding her hips so that she rocked over his, the fill of his cock mind-numbingly pleasurable as a smile danced across Y/N lips, rocking her hips more to thrust onto him harder.

“Not at all lover,” she breathed out on instinct, leaning back so that her breast where in his face, a pert nipple begging to be sucked.

A calloused hand caressing over the soft skin, thumb gliding over the bud before leaning to suck it into his mouth, gentle at first but raking teeth over it the moment he could feel her clinch around him. Good, because the soft, moist heat that was engulfing his eager cock was throbbing for an early release.

Y/N went first, dragging Bjorn with her, clawing to his back while wrapping arms around his shoulders to hold them tightly against each other, rutting on him & filling him empty into her. Hot seed filling her womb & making her find familiarity, comfort in it while he continued to rut on her. Riding out their highs, paying no heed to just how loud they had gotten. The pounding on the door not reaching their ears, at least not until Y/N seidr allowed the door open that she didn’t realize it held.

The moment was broken when the door to the room slammed open as if an invisible force was holding it shut, the men stumbled in wielding their weapons & looking breathless. Looking to their leader who sat upright, holding a fur over Y/N who was obviously straddling him, buried in his chest & Bjorn looked remarkably…well.

Quickly, without pulling out of Y/N pulsing heat, Bjorn jerked the nearest fur over their bodies, sweat rolling off of them & both panting hard when the door banged open. The bang of it causing Gyda to jump in his arms, wrapping her own around his waist & hold tightly onto a healed side. Y/N peaking out at one of the other leaders from another ship.

“We thought, sire, you're healed,” the one who had pushed in first began, stepping closer but pausing when he noticed the discarded shift on the floor.

“I am thanks to our young vǫlva,” Bjorn spoke, breathing easy & running his hand along her thigh cherishing it.

“Good news sire, we will leave you two alone,” the man spoke, sheathing his axe & ushering the others out gruffly.

“A seeress,” Thor asked Loki as they were back out on the road, that thankfully wasn’t swimming with mud, “why would they take her to a seeress, if this is ..”

Glancing over quickly at Thor, the looked Loki fixed him with told him to keep his mouth shut, to not deprive Loki of hope.

“Did the woman give you any names, anything to go by, something we could give mother,” Thor spoke rationally, using his battle training to force himself to think rationally & coherently.

“The woman that she described looking exactly like Y/N, she was accompanying the one who found her, Bjorn in Danelagh to the seeress that is a day’s ride,” Loki began to explain looking straight ahead with hope, strides getting longer.

“They called her Gyda, said that this Bjorn found her in a meadow after a raid there, said she remembers nothing but when she was found,” Loki continued to speak on happily, Thor trying to think rational once more.

“Wait how do you know this Gyda is her? It could just be some war prize that …,” was all Thor got out before a coldness washed over Loki’ features.

Loki stopped quickly, Thor making it a few strides ahead till he realized he had stopped & reluctantly turned to face his brother. The hateful gaze he focused on Thor sent shivers down his spine, it wasn’t Loki he was looking at, it was something completely different, he was void of emotion, body ridged & gaze that cut through him like tiny shards of ice making his very bones hurt. It troubled Thor that he had switched that fast, eyes that once sparkled with hope boring into him as if he was seeing him but wasn’t & above all what terrified Thor the most was the fact that he resembled the Loki he fought on the Bifrost, the one from his nightmares.

“Their leader was dying on the voyage here from a gaping hole in his side that was pouring blood, & when he reached the shore here he was completely healed & was ready to take this journey to take HER to the seeress because the seeress had explained to Bjorn where to find her in Danelagh. The seeress described Gyda, MY Siggy as a gift from the gods & that when found she was to be brought before the prophetess,” Loki bit out viciously, but then again he was calm, so collected, his gaze not faltering even when a thin tear broke free.

“Wait if she is with Bjorn, that means that, from what I gathered…,” Thor got out before Loki snarled out at him violently, stalking towards him to stop inches from him, glaring daggers into his soul.

“I know what it means brother! But she doesn’t know who she is, what we are to each other! Now shut up,” Loki growled, looking calm still, but also looking like a rabid beast about to pounce if Thor said one more word & that was something that they couldn’t afford at the moment.

The plodding of the horse was rhythmic as they followed the path to visit the seeress, causing Y/N to slump over, tired from healing Bjorn, from the journey, from the entire ordeal in general & was slowly nodding off on her mount. Y/N mount, a stallion that she tamed with just her touch. Gentle nudging at her elbow making her snap out of it to look over at Bjorn with a sleepy smile, leaning into his touch as he reached out to cherish her cheek.

“What do you dream of lover? I hear you call out to someone, but it's so quiet I never hear,” Bjorn asked her gently, confusion crossing her features, evident she didn’t realize what she did when she would drift off to sleep.

“I don’t know, all I see when I dream is colors of green, gold, black, & emerald,” Y/N admitted, missing the fill of his hand on her face when the horses shifted due to the terrain, noting that they where heading into snow dusted trees & the air was surprisingly colder than ever.

Fear shivered along Y/N spine along with the oddly unbearable cold that didn’t seem natural, looking around to figure out where they could be & spotting a grouping of cabins that situated in the trees. Walkways traversed between them, so no one walked in the mud, one off to itself leaving Y/N guessing it belonged to the seeress.

“Then hopefully Asta can help you remember then,” he spoke to her with confidence though she cold visibly watch a shiver move along his spine the closer they got to the cabins.

Bjorn halting his mount to jump down to catch Y/N’ & hold him for her to dismount, another tug at memory another sharp pain and another forgotten even when it felt as though steel blue eyes should look like sparkling emeralds.

“Don’t play games woman,” the man, snapped in the seeress face, an unreadable expression as she was violently slammed to the wall in the cabin, glad she enchanted it so no one heard there squabbles.

“I'm not! She is hear as we speak,” the old woman spat out, hand flying to the one at her throat pinning her to the wall, but still she hardly flinched, the tall man bearing down her, his illusion flickering but calling it back.

“And you are sure she remembers nothing? Sure that the sorcerer want find her,” the man snarled in her face, free hand producing a weapon that no Ostmen carried and holding the tip to the seeress throat in warning.

“I am positive! If you hadn’t fucked up in Danelagh when they had to turn back because of Thor’ anger then we would not have this problem,” she bit out, kicking the man back, making him drop her, but still he held the blade to her throat & towered over her.

A knock sounded at the door, the seeress gaze shooting up to look into the dark eyes of the man that towered over her hinting to the door that led out of the back of the cabin.

“Damn you Býleistr, go,” she snarled quietly, “I will bring her when I discard of her newest lover.”

Slowly Bjorn entered first, holding tightly to Y/N hand leading her into the seeress’ cabin, the old woman looking away from the back entrance that clicked shut, & looking to the two. An odd look of satisfaction coming to her eyes that sent a violent shiver through the two, the room colder than the outside despite the fact a fire burned at its center.

“My sire! I see you found the young vǫlva shield maiden that I spoke of,” the old woman spoke out in awe, coming forward & taking the time to look over Y/N like a prized bull.

“Aye, saved my life,” he admitted proudly motioning Y/N to go with the old woman who stood close to the fire.

The old seeress reaching out to take Y/N chin to turn her head this way & that. Looking over the deer skin pants, fur covered boots, the gold chain & pendant that was around her neck sparkling in the fire light. A pendant Asta knew belonged to Bjorn’ mother, the older shield maiden must have given it to the younger one when they landed. Looking quickly to Y/N side to see a sword, the one belonging to Bjorn, was lashed to her side by a beautiful belt, bring nit to question if he carried something of Y/N, spotting the golden handled dagger that rested inside the young ruler’s breast pocket.

“You were wed,” the seeress spoke, not sure how to proceed, normally these things took years, but if Bjorn’ mother blessed them then it was possible it was a fast ceremony in private.

“Not yet, when we return,” Bjorn admitted watching the seeress continue to focus on Y/N, how eerie it was that Asta looked Gyda over like a sacrifice.

“Come! You two must sit, we need to talk,” the seeress began, snapping out of her trance & hinting to the two to take a seat close to the fire as snow began to fall through the chimney over the pit.

Looking at Y/N, Bjorn noticed her color pale, especially when the seeress ghosted over her forearm, reaching out to pull Y/N close looking into fear-stricken eyes before looking to the old woman who rambled on about something then back to Y/N.

“Forgive us Asta but allow me to walk Gyda to the long house to rest, it was a long journey &…,” Bjorn began, cut off by the vicious shout of the old seeress who looked slightly taller now.

“I have waited too long & have ice cold death breathing down my neck! It's time to go,” was the shout that made the two realize the trap that they had entered had clamped shut around them & there was no escape.

Looking ahead to the trees in front of them, smelling burning wood & meat. Striding closer to once again see crows fly overhead, no not again. Before Thor could stop Loki, he raced ahead through the burring trees & lodges. Emerald seidr in a frenzy to stop the burning only to wind up in the middle of a ring of death. Burned houses, men, women, children, horses, looking as if it was to cover someone’s tracks.

“Loki! Stop,” Thor shouted after his brother running after Loki, the irate go showing not signs of stopping when he spotted the cabin that was further up on the hill, away to itself, a burnt shell.

Running up in his brother, Thor watched Loki stoop, pulling something off of a body lying next to the fire pit, that looked to have once been a man. The item he picked up glistened gold & silver, snakes intertwining down the fuller. Without putting any thought to it, Loki wrapped his palm around the blade, looking around the shell of a cabin & seeing nothing else but a sword he didn’t recognize. Hand tightening around the blade, cutting flesh to spill blood. Loki, no longer able to hold onto hope, falling to his knees & screaming out to nothing.

Thor stopped, he needed time, but then again what can he do? Y/N wasn’t here & who appeared to be Bjorn laid burned to death at Loki’ knees. And Loki, Norns, what the Hel was he going to do, how would he get him home? It was past night fall on Midgard as well as Asgard. Thor’ gut twisting because something told him this would be the last time they ventured to Midgard, the last time in a long time because Odin had found out. The two would be lucky if they weren’t confined to their rooms or the dungeon for that fact.

His last hope, Loki’ last hope was bleeding out all over his leathers, running down his knees & dripping onto the scorched platform. The young gods anger escaping in loud incoherent curses that shook the very ground with his anger. Unable to stop till he was breathless, hoarse, & completely spent. Leaving it up to Thor to get him to his feet, struggling in his arms to let him go & allow him to stay as penance. Forcefully Thor drug his struggling brother to wobbly legs to call out to their mother to bring them home & choking on his own sob.

“Look at who shivers before me,” Y/N heard a deep male voice echo around her in the dark, freezing room.

Trying to look through the darkness, but this time seeing nothing, dawning on Y/N that someone had rendered her blind. Arms stretched & pulled over her head, stretched out like a piece of meat to be butchered. Jumping when a cold breath moved across her skin, telling her that something was close. The cold of the room biting I through the clothes as if Y/N wore nothing, only remembering. Remembering, what was she to remember again? Shivering, chains jingling to echo around the room.

“Return her sight, I want to see her expression when she sees my face for the first time,” the voice spoke right in front of her, another breeze of cold air making her realize it was her captors breath.

Slowly as if coming out of a hazy fog, Y/N regained her sight, only to look into blood red eyes that were sat in a leathery blue face scared with lines and gold adornments on his head. Unable to stop the gasp that left her, the creatures cold breath taking her own as he let out a chuckle & stood up strait backing away to stand to his true height.

“My sweet little goddess, how far you have fallen & without any memory to serve you but for the ones we are about to create from this moment on,” the blue giant laughed.

Y/N forced herself to look away, only to realize that there were several more in the room with her, one that wasn’t as tall as the one laughing over her, he looked young. Another next to him who was tall like the one before her & a lifeless body laid on the floor, the body of something dead. It was hard to tell what it was, a frostbitten heap of flesh that looked burned as well.

“Unbind her, I want to see what my runt of a son Loki seen in this creature,” the giant chuckled darkly.

The fall taking her breath, hitting the cold floor, instinct telling her to call out to the seidr to protect her, but who was Loki & how had she gotten here? The last she thought before trying to free herself from these monsters that towered over her.

If you want to be tagged or not let me know!

Tags: @dark-night-sky-99  @prettybubblesintheair  @gramaeryebard  @reallyheckinggay  @jovanna-shewolf  @andiyholly  @katstablook   @nickyl316h  @beets1bears1battlestargalactica @slender--spirit @aslandia726 @moonfaery @furstinnajoelle

[amberandmetal]

Not like you

❖ Teen & up

❖ Stranded in a new land you try to show the people that despite the differences in dress and manner you are not so different from them.

❖ See end for Author’s notes. I strongly advice you take a gander at it before reading this just to clear a few things up. But this can absolutely be read without it.

❖ The song I used as inspiration for the last part is Wardruna -  Rotlaust Tre Fell [Spotify] & [Youtube]

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

I

    You tried to move as swiftly and quietly as possible as you darted between houses and huts, cloaked by the darkness. No sound could be heard from most of them, instead the majority of the noise traveling through the night air came from the largest one, the one in the middle, the one belonging to the Earl . Who else could it be?

    You almost bumped into a man the size of a giant but he barely noticed, fall down drunk as he was he barely grunted in acknowledgement that something was blocking his way and then continuied on his stumbling path.

    Few torches were still lit and they did nothing for the clarity of your vision. Your heart pumped adrenaline through your veins as you darted past another building only to come upon the town forge. A quick overview, scourging through scraps and pieces left for the night and you found something of a remnant of a weapon but sharp and lethal enough to suffice as a defense. You weren’t happy about it. Really it was barely more than a handled shard.

    You stuck in under the cloth you had wrapped around your waist, removing another from your skirt, carefully wrapping your shaved head. If the brutes who invaded the village you’d been in were any indication, a shawled head were better than a shaved one.

    You fox walked over the ground, the mudd solid and silent from the night frost. You peered inside through a crack in the wall, scanning the scene before you. It wasn’t much if a surprise; most of the men were in no better condition than the troll you had run into, intoxicated with mead, drunk of their asses in celebration of their latest pillage.

    It hadn’t been your village, yet—

    Eye’s searching they finally fell upon the one sitting in the high seat, and the younger one beside her. They were both blessed with beauty that touched on the divine, the woman with long strawberry blonde hair and eyes like a hawk, and the man with deep seated eyes that shone a kind of cold and intense shade of blue you had never seen before. They seemed to be the only ones not halfway unconscious with drink.

    The hearth glowed invitingly, promising warmth and a place to dry and you deemed the situation harmless enough. Once you stepped through the entrance though, attention was on you as the large door made a horribly loud noise.

    “And who is this?”, the younger one drawled, curious eyes scanning your appearance.

    The woman stood up, long elegant dress draping the floor as she made her way past the drunks. She looked you over, taking in your unusual clothing.

    “Who are you and what is your purpose in Kattegat?”

    You swallowed, willing your expression to stay calm as you showed the small weapon at your waist, holding your hand up to show the unintention to use it.

    “I am Y/n and I mean no ill. I was on one of your boats,” she quirked a brow, “I am here to discuss a treaty.”

    II

    You rearranged the fabric around your body as you sat down on a cushion close to the Queen’s seat, organising the trinkets in your pockets so you could sit comfortably. A slave girl crouched down next to you offering a horn of frothy mead. The warmth of the hearth was as promised comforting and you put the drink between your thighs to hold out your hands and let the cold be soothed away.

    “So Mother tells me you came on one of our boats.”

    You look up, eyes locking with the bizarre ones of the younger man, the prince?, and instantly regretting it. His eyes bore deep into you in a way that felt strangely invasive.

    “Yes, that is true.”

    “How?”

    You looked back up, willing yourself to not be swayed by this viking.

    “It’s amazing how if a barrel is heavy enough a man will immediately think it valuable without ever actually looking inside.”

    The corners of his eyes crinkled then and he let his upper lip curl over his teeth in a laugh that managed to be both approving and frightening.

    The Queen leaned in over her son, a neutral smile painted on her lips.

    “Well, I am Queen Aslaug and this is my son Ivar. And since I trust your purpose here not being evil spirited,” she glanced at the sore excuse for a dagger at your side,” welcome to Kattegat. We will gladly discuss your business here but it will have to wait until after the feasts. I fear you managed to join us in the middle of Walpurgis and the long awaited evening of Thrimilci.”

    You feel your heart leap.

    “Thrimilci?!”

    “You know it?”

    “Of course, my people have been preparing for it for weeks. Frigg is very important to us.”

    That sparked a new manner in them both, whereas Aslaug softened a bit, smiling in earnest, Ivar lit with something like interest.

    “So you acknowledge our Gods?”

    “They are our Gods too, my prince.”

    “How could they be? So far away? All we’ve come across are filthy christians.”

    “That is not knowledge I have. I only know the ways of our forefathers who settled in the forest that I call home. We worship the Æsir but—,” you looked around the room, at the drunken brawlers, singing warriors and the evidence of preparations for a ritual blót, “..I believe, in a much different way.”

    This made Ivar draw back in suspicion, his horn lifted to his lips to drink, not once taking his eyes of you.

    “In what way different ?”

    You licked your lips, suddenly nervous at the change in mood.

    “We do not sacrifice to appease the Gods.”

    Ivar blinked. So did the Queen.

    “How else do you win their favour? By sacrificing is how we show loyalty and worship, or have your people forgot , hm ?” The last words were said inches from your face as the prince leaned over from his chair, hot breath and distrusting eyes having you shivering under their weight.

    “We give of ourselves,” you answered truthfully, “we give back some of what they’ve given and we honour them by connecting to the tree of life and offering ourselves.”

    Apparently this was not answer enough and both mother and son adorned similar looks of suspicion.

    “It’s hard to explain,” you offered and then as an afterthought added, “I can show you, if you would allow me.”

    Aslaug gave you a look.

    “That depends on what that would entail.”

    “Tomorrow is Thrimilci and I have prepared for weeks for our people’s kind of offering, I require nothing but a fire, a clearing around it and some of your people to drum and sing.”

    You chanced a glance at Ivar who’s apprehensive gaze hadn't dimmed the slightest.

    “That can be arranged, we often light a large bonfire near the forrest during Thrimilci, it is no bother,” she got up, surrendering her cup of mead to a nearby slave girl, “you can rest with the slavegirls—”

    A smirk played on Ivar’s lips as he interrupted his mother, “Y/n can stay with me, Mother, if she so choose.”

    “Fine.  Good night.” And then she was gone, leaving you alone with the prince. The mead had started to do its job and you felt lulled into a sense of comfort that hadn't been there a minute ago, in spite of the prospects of sleeping in the prince’s chambers. You tried to stifle the emotions the thought brought up, complex and conflicting as they were.

    All things considered the night had gone well— none of your worst case scenarios had taken place, all of your limbs were still intact and as far as you knew the Queen hadn’t made any orders for you to be put in chains. Your hopes rested on the celebration tomorrow evening. If you could show them that you were without a doubt a child of Odin just as them, the treaty bargaining would go over a lot smoother.

    “You are staring.”

    “It’s not often I see a woman dressed like this, or as covered up. Is there a reason behind it?”, he sniffed.

    “Your men didn’t react well to my appearance before, I presumed I would have the same trouble here.”

    That spark of curiosity ignited in his eyes again. They looked hungry— wolflike.

    “Tell me.”

    You took another swallow of the sweet liquid and licked your lips, acutely aware of how the prince traced the movement.

    “Like I said we give of ourselves,” you explained, “all but the children sacrifice our hair once a year.”

    Ivar blinked.

    “Your hair ?”

    “It is what makes us most beautiful and we willingly sacrifice that to show our undying loyalty to the Gods.”

    He seemed to contemplate this for a moment.

    “And the rest of you?”

    Despite yourself you flushed a bit at the thought of the young prince regarding your body, heat billowing underneath your clothes.

    “Ornaments on our skin,” you smiled, “tattoos, jewellery.. scars.”

    “Scars?” Something macabre sparked behind those blues, momentarily making you recoil.

    “..if you carve a certain shape, you skin will heal like that, creating its own tattoo.”

    “Show me.”

    “Tomorrow— .. tomorrow, my prince. Not here.”

    He huffed and downed the last of his mead, hoisting himself up in a strange manner and crawling down onto the floor—

    You couldn’t believe you hadn’t even noticed the man was a cripple.

    This was indeed a strange people.

    III

      Following Ivar had not been a problem since his crawling made a slow means of travel.

    You followed him into a small room, pelts and fabrics covering the bed and two soft looking chairs. You looked around, searching for the softest place on the floor when he spoke up.

    “The bed is big enough for two,” at the uneasy expression no doubt showing on your face he added with a sneer, “don’t you worry, little lamb .. I don’t need to force myself on women, nor would I have any interest in it. Sleep on the floor if you want, maybe frostbite is another way you serve tribute to the Gods, hm?”

    You knew he was being spiteful on purpose, trying to push your buttons. Problem was that it worked. As soon as the soles of your bare feet hit the cold ground you knew there was no way you could sleep like that. Your stomach churned. Maybe it wasn’t too late to sleep with the slavegirls? Although an direct refusal of the prince of Kattegat’s hospitality would probably not serve you or the prospects of a treaty well.

    You closed your eyes, inhaled deeply and shook yourself, willing your limbs to untense.

    On the bed Ivar had already made himself comfortable, slumped down underneath the covers with a challenging grin on his lips, eyes twinkling expectantly.

    “Yes, okay.”

    Your hands reached up to your neck, untying the knot keeping the shawl in place and then allowed it to fall to the floor; Ivar’s eyes widened just the slightest.

    You dragged your hands over your stubbled scalp, shrugging with a smile.

    “Told you.”

    “If this is the way of your people, “ he began as you fully clothed climbed under the covers, “why haven’t I heard of this until now? The warriors returning— .. none of them have spoken about this.”

    You settled down, head propped up on a pillow and your body at a safe distance from the prince.

    “That’s because they didn’t raid my village. But the one nearest to where we live.. and I do not wish for you to come for us next.”

    Ivar laughed, a gleeful yet cold sound that thrilled you yet simultaneously sent chills down your spine.

    “So what were you doing there, hm? Spying? You wanted to get there first?”

    You scoffed.

    “We don’t raid, we don’t pillage, we don’t fight—,” Ivar quirked a brow, “we do know how to defend ourselves, every child is taught from a young age but no, we do not fight. We believe there are other paths to Valhalla,” you curled up on the bed for warmth and peered at the prince, “and as for your question I was on a supply run. We’re a small village if you’d like to call it that, and some of our needs can not be met amongst ourselves.”

    “You are a strange woman.”

    “You are a strange man.”

    He huffed a laugh. This time it sounded warmer, more genuine.

    “I suppose you’re right,  y/n.”

    He fell asleep not soon after, softly snoring as you laid awake trying to come to grips with the events of the day; the day that had started normal like any other day, but had ended in the strangest way possible. You searched your pockets for the pouch of amber stones and garnets and when you found it, gently squeezed it in your palm. You drew a deep breath. You could do this.

    You jerked as the other body in the bed twisted and turned in it’s sleep, arms fanning out as if in search of something. You tensed, watching closely as his form grew closer and closer until he was all but pressed up against you. In a loud rush you let out the breath you’d been holding, partly wishing it would wake the sleeping prince. With no such luck you moved closer to the edge, lying on your side as to not fall out. Ivar only managed to move in closer and with a defeated sigh and a silent thought questioning your sanity you gave in, inching back until your bodies were lined up under the pelts.

    It was nice, though you found it hard to admit. The warmth of him was inviting and something about the way his body instantly calmed down by your presence made your blood heat. This man thrilled and terrified you to no end, and yet sleeping like this he seemed replaced by another, someone softer, someone without the need to strike fear with cruel words and morbid smiles. You tucked away a stray strand of hair from his forehead. What a strange man indeed.

    III  

    The crowd fell eerily silent as the bonfire lit and the drummers began to sing. The pouch with your stones hung heavy around your neck this time, a solid weight anchoring you to the present. You shed the shawl from your shoulders and stepped out of your boots and into the glowing light, the tiny ankle bells you wore rattling slightly. Some of the vikings around you exchanged whispers and quiet murmurs as your skin was bared for them to see; the intricate tattoos, black runes climbing up over your skin entwining with the white of your scars, all of it cast in a warm glow from the fire.

    The mudd felt cold but familiar and grounding to your bare feet. The first beats of the drums had you stepping out into the cleared circle, feet and body moving of their own accord as you gave yourself over to it; the warmth from the flames, the rhythm, the vibrations in the harmonies—  every sensation.

    Your body moved in pulses, twisting and turning as your chest pumped, opening up to the skies as your head fell back and then closed in again, your arms tight to your body before coiling out again, twisting like snakes in the air. You spun faster, closing in on the fire, letting the flames brush your skin as you focused on staying centered, at one with everything, connected to the bark of yggdrasil and bound to the current of life given by the Gods.

    The beat stopped momentarily and so did you, breathing heavily as the sudden quiet elevated the thrumming in your bones and the buzzing underneath your skin.

    A quiet speedy rhythm started up then, almost as if they were barely touching the skins. Your fingers began curling into your hand and then fanning out again, one by one, undulating with the melody of the rough and deep singing. Quickly you spun, twisting around your own body, your hips gyrating with the movement and making your skirt fan out. You hunched, letting your feet work in quick succession, stomping in beat with the drums, the bells on your ankles adding to the hypnotic rhythm. You moved in and out, closing in on the fire as if to embrace it just to move away again, hands constantly moving in waves, caressing the chilled spring breeze that whirled in to make the fire dance.

    There was a synchronised beat, a hard, loud sound elevated by the many a drums, and your eyes flew open to the skies. You opened your throat and let your spirit sing, the slightly lighter tone of your voice mixing with the throaty alto of the men. Your gaze descended on the fire as you sang, your arms falling with it, hands moving in as your chest jerked, pumped and twisted in time with the beats. Nothing could reach you here, nothing could find you in the tranquill and force of your trance, yet— you felt a push and pull on your senses, something devastatingly blue in your periphery locked on you.

     Ivar .

    A sudden chill trickled up your spine.

    You bowed your head and arched your neck, spinning in a snake like motion around yourself. The mudd splashed up on your calves as you ran backwards, feet sliding in the wet earth until you spun again, arms lifting as the voices of the men grew louder in unison; and you ran, straight forward, eyes closed as the heat began to become close to unbearable, and then you lept; legs bent out as the fire licked your skin- seeping into your innermost being, connecting you to all there is, to the Gods— to Frigg.

    You touched down on the other side in a hunch, one leg outstretched to paint a half circle around you as you landed mid spin. In and out your chest moved as you slowly got up, legs crossed, your arms stretching out to your sides, moving  like wings with the pulsing of your chest and shoulders. You stood up, your arms stretched outwards as your eyes faced the sky.

    “ Gods! I am yours! My spirit yours to do with as you will! ”

    The final drum hit and the sound moved through the clearing, the last note clinging to the night air.

    Silence fell. You could hear nothing but the crackling of the roaring fire.

    You bowed your head, closing your eyes once more as you bellowed.

    “To the Gods!”

    The crowd roared in answer.

    “TO THE GODS!”

  ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

❖A/n: First thing’s first: The title is not from Pocahontas, I swear! I am swedish so that line is something different here and that it could be “not like you” in english didn’t even occur to me until I had already named it and now I’ve named the puppy and it is done. So I don’t know what this is. I was listening to Wardruna- Rotlaust Tre Fell on my way home and I got this cool ritual scene in my head so I rushed home to jot it down and then it kinda got away from me from there. I wrote the endscene first and I would strongly advice that you listen to the song while you read it. I really love this one and I think it’s safe to say I will sooner or later have to do a continuation because fuck me, I can not just leave them like this. Also: The holidays/feasts mentioned are real but as far as I know they were mainly german and I don’t know if they celebrated the same ones in Norway/Sweden and also the godess mentioned in association with Thrimilci is Ostara but for my own convinience I swapped her with Frigg (Who’s to say that never happened? I mean Thrimilci is a festival of love and fertility.) And when it comes to Reader’s people and who/where they are and what kind of people they are: it is 100% bonafide completely made up. So there. Enjoy!

[imagine-valhalla]

BEING  ATHELSTAN’S BEST FRIEND WOULD INCLUDE:

◾ Let’s just say that there would be an undying relationship that would simply never burn out. Thick and thin this bond would run strong.

◾ You would always be understood, whether your beliefs or your perspectives would differ from each other’s, whatever it may be, yourself and Athelstan would find it in your hearts to understand each other at all times; making both of you feel comfortable and welcome in each others presences.

◾ Fiercely protective would be a vast understatement. You would sacrifice yourself to defend Athelstan, whether that was in regards to his honor or to defend him if his life was at stake. You would take the public backlash with pride, no matter what the price may pay for it.

◾ “You touch my Christian and I will do something so vile to you that even the Gods shall never foresee.” You would spit as viciously as venom.

◾ Athelstan may not be the toughest, but his loyalty would lie with you and he would never do anything to break that. He would simply die for you if need be, and surely vice versa.

◾ You would always find counsel in this priest, finding it to be so warm and loving to be in his presence. Athelstan would make a much better individual out of you because he would inspire you by his forgiving, compassionate and empathizing qualities.

◾ You would listen to anything that he would say within a heart beat, giving him the best advice that you could, and he would be grateful for your wise insights.

◾ If you felt insecure or felt bad over something, Athelstan would come up with the most comforting of phrases, not just to settle your thoughts or your feelings so you could be happy, but because he means it from his heart.

◾ “Everyone sins, and it is that what makes us human. If we did not make mistakes then we would not learn. And if we do not learn, then what is the true purpose in living?” He would almost preach, but not in a boastful way, for he knew that after all he had been through, this was true.

◾ The pair of you would not having to speak a single word to understand one another, a message could be put across by just a single glance or an action. You’d be so synced with one another that you’d be open books.

◾ You would love one another truly and this would be the truest of all friendships.

◾ If you were a Viking, Athelstan would not mind and you would not mind that he was Christian because the pair of you would look beyond that, seeing that the pair of you were likable and interesting in your own forms and fashions.

◾ You and Athelstan appreciating one another and being so grateful for the bond that you both share, for it would be irreplaceable.

◾ A closeness that could not be compared.

◾ Even though being best friends with Athelstan would be as easy as breathing, sometimes it just would not be, - particularly if you were Viking-. This would be due to the backlash the pair of you would get and sometimes being honest would be difficult for you both, since you’re so close but you’d know it would be the right thing to do.

◾ Always forgiving one another for doing something wrong, using harsh words or actions.

◾ The pair of you would constantly learn from one another, whether it’s writing or painting, training for battle, learning by example or whatever it may be; there would be so much to learn that you both may not understand logically but you would in time.

◾ Laying in long grass and watching the clouds, just enjoying life.

◾ If you had a talent, your good friend Athelstan would help you to nurture it, your dream. He would not let you down. He would be there with you every step of the way, even being your strength when you feel as though you cannot simply go any further.

◾  He would always be your light, your rock, and vice versa.

◾ You would see the good within him, not always understanding how your friend could be so pure and forgiving.

◾ But him not understanding how you could be so amazing and pure in your own way.

◾ Smiles would dawn and shine upon either one of your complexions.

◾ Both of you being quite open, sharing everything together.

◾ Experiencing new things together.

◾ Even though you would be so fiercely protective of your friend, he would also be very protective of you, and would often astound you when he would grow angry at those who would dare to speak bad towards you or attempt to harm you in some way.

◾ He would love you even if you were a mess, and vice versa.

◾ This friendship would not be perfect but it would be right, even if you were both polar opposites.

◾ You’d admire how he would stick true to his beliefs, finding him braver than any Viking.

◾ Athelstan would always encourage you to stick to your values, never settling for anything less. Self-respect and love is important.

◾ If anyone would mistreat either of you, the other would be right there to back the other up.

◾ Being best friends forever.

athelstan gif : source - 🏹

hope you enjoyed! please follow for more, lovelies.