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cozy-the-overlord · 4 years ago

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Dances and Daggers

Summary: The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 3: The Wish

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Word Count: 3,726

Chapter Summary: Dinner with the royal family is... about what Teki expected.

Thanks for reading! :)

TW: mentions of child abuse, cursing

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

Read it on Ao3!

Her first night as part of the royal family found Teki with trembling palms and a gurgling stomach, fighting to maintain the appearance of composure. Her family didn’t seem to notice her anxiety—in fact, her mother seemed to be having the time of her life before they even left for dinner.

“See?” she beamed at Osvald as she spun Teki around in her new red dress. “It’s finally happening! She’s finally getting the recognition she deserves!”

Osvald studied her with a glittering gaze. Teki was careful to keep her own eyes glued to the floorboards. At some point in the last week, although he hadn’t said when, her stepfather had finally caved to the pain and visited the healers. Her mother had sighed in relief at this news, but Teki had to clasp her hands behind her back to stop them from shaking.

“How wonderful,” he said, smiling. He reached out to stroke a bit of loose hair that her mother hadn’t braided into her bun. His hands were cold on her cheek. “Then I’m certain everyone will be on their best behavior tonight, won’t we?”

Teki nodded. “Yes, sir.”

She was still trembling as she made her way to the royal tables in the feast hall. Stepping on to the raised platform didn’t help. Sure, the feast hall wasn’t nearly as large as the Great Hall, which was used only for festivals and celebrations, but everything seems bigger when you’re standing above it. Hundreds of pairs of eyes held her in their scrutiny. Teki thought she would be sick.

Her seat was at Thor’s right. Unsurprising—he was her fiancé after all, and he always sat at King Odin’s right. But this arrangement also put her at the end of the table, so that her only possible partner for conversation was the Crown Prince. Was that intentional as well?

If it was a ploy to get Thor and her to talk more, it didn’t work. The prince spent most of the dinner in raucous discussion with his father, as if completely ignorant of Teki’s presence at his elbow. They were very loud. Thor’s shouts rumbled the table and pierced Teki’s skull in a way that made the nausea even worse. She spent dinner trying to choke down a slice of bread.

It was weird, thinking about how she was going to marry Thor someday. She knew he was her elder only by a few years but… he seemed so much older. He was so tall, so muscular, with a voice that carried across the hall even when he wasn’t yelling. Just sitting next to him made Teki feel unbearably small. Only a few years between them, but he was already a man, and she still felt like a little girl.

At first, when people started getting up to dance, she feared that Thor would ask her as his partner. There was no way Teki would be able to turn down an offer from the prince, but she was barely holding herself together as it was. However, it seemed her worries were unwarranted. Thor got up without so much as a word to her and nearly flew to Lady Sif’s table amongst the nobles. Had she been feeling a bit better, Teki would have been concerned that Osvald had seen it, but all she felt in the moment was relief.

I’m going to be such a horrible Queen.

It seemed that the night had gone on forever. Everyone was shouting, laughing, dancing, having the absolute time of their life, while Teki only sank lower into her chair. When she sat with her mother, they could leave any time they wanted to. Nobody paid her any mind—she could slip out easily and no one noticed the difference. But here, she was on display for everyone. Here, everyone saw everything she did. It wasn’t fair. Her eyes burned. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want any of this.

Teki jumped when someone plopped themselves down in Thor’s seat, but it wasn’t her fiancé. Loki grinned at her with his sparkling emerald eyes.

“So, Lady Teki, how do you like looking down upon the masses,” he smirked.

Teki forced a smile. “I-I think it’s something I’ll have to get used to, my prince.” Her voice was pathetically small, and she cursed herself.

But Loki was kind enough not comment on her pitifulness. “Oh, I understand,” he agreed. “I imagine this setup is quite jarring.” Leaning in, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone, but I still get dizzy up here sometimes.”

Teki exhaled a quiet giggle. She was fairly certain he was only trying to cheer her up, but the thought that the prince got as sick to his stomach as she felt somehow made her feel like less of a failure. “Your secret is safe with me, my prince.”

“I knew I could trust you.” He laughed softly, motioning towards the tables below them. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your brother has been trying to get your attention all night long.”

She frowned. “What?” Following his finger, her gaze landed on Brant, who was sitting the wrong way in his chair, frantically waving. When he saw her looking, he jumped and waved even harder. Teki laughed as she returned the wave.

“Has he really been doing that all night?” she asked. She couldn’t imagine that Osvald and her mother would be pleased with him making such a scene, but it seemed her mother was busy conversing with the ladies around her and Osvald was nowhere to be seen.

“I noticed him shortly after the meal began,” Loki chuckled. “He hasn’t stopped since then.”

“Oh Brant.” Teki wondered who cut his meat for him. She couldn’t imagine Osvald doing it. She couldn’t really imagine her mother doing it, either.

The two of them sat on the platform for a while, talking about nothing in particular. Loki carried most of the conversation, telling her the most hilarious stories about his classes—spells that ricocheted off the golden doorframe, potions that overflowed and contaminated the whole room, pranks that he played on the teachers to show off his talent. Some of them were so ridiculous that Teki found herself wondering if he was making them up to make her laugh, but she didn’t question him.

“There’s one woman, Lady Alda,” he was saying, gesturing animatedly as he told the story. “Horrible old hag—she’s the type who gets upset if you read ahead. She believes if she hasn’t taught it yet, then you’re not allowed to know it. I didn’t like that very much, so I read ahead to the transformation section. She had acted as if transformation is the most difficult skill you’ll ever learn, but it’s actually quite easy. So, I taught myself how to do it, and in the middle of class I turned her desk into a dead rat.”

“Loki!” Teki laughed incredulously.

“That’s not the best part! She turns to me and starts demanding that I undo it, shouting so loudly the walls shook The vein was popping out of her forehead, her hair was wild—I swear, she looked like a troll. And I looked her right in the eye and said ‘But Lady Alda, you haven’t taught us transformation yet!’”

Teki was somewhere between enthralled and horrified. “What did she do?”

Loki shrugged. “She told my father. That’s all they ever do. They’re afraid to try anything else.”

She pictured Odin, with his untamed beard and deafening shout. “What did your father do?”

“Oh, he got mad,” Loki said nonchalantly, flicking a crumb off his sleeve. “Yelled at me for my ‘unprincely conduct.’ Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious,” Teki echoed softly. She wondered what Osvald would do if one of her teachers told him she had been acting out in class. The thought terrified her.

Loki had gone very quiet. Gently, he reached out to touch her wrist. “I—I meant to ask,” he cleared his throat. “Everything’s all right, right? I mean, with your family. Everything’s all right?”

Teki burned. “Yes, yes, of course,” she said quickly, her voice jumping an octave higher. “Everything’s fine. Nothing wrong at all.”

“That’s good.” His gaze had grown far more concerned, but there was relief mixed in with the green of his eyes. “That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. I just—I wanted to make sure—”

She nodded furiously. “I understand.”

Loki looked as if he was going to say something else, but Thor was rushing up the steps of the platform, shouting his name.

“Loki!” He grabbed at his brother’s shoulders, still seemingly oblivious to Teki’s presence. “Come! Volstagg and I are trying an experiment, we need your help—”

The younger prince squirmed out of Thor’s grasp. “Now?”

“Yes, now!” He tried pulling Loki to his feet. “We need an illusionist!”

“I—” he was able to shoot one apologetic glance to Teki before Thor had completely pulled him out of his seat. “Let go of me already! I’m coming.”

Teki studied her fingernails in her lap as the two princes clattered back down the steps. She suddenly felt very lonely.

…

“Can you read that one to me now?”

Brant cocked his head, brow furrowed at the line of writing. He and Teki were on her bedroom floor, pages spread around them covered in Teki’s careful lettering. They had been there all morning—Teki patiently helping him through longer words and sentences. Maybe it was just her, but she thought her little brother was making some definite improvement.

“Tah—Tah—”

Teki shook her head. “Remember what we said about the t and the h?” she asked, pointing at the paper. “What sound do they make when they’re together?”

Brant’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Thhh!” he hissed excitedly, spittle flying all over the page. Teki snickered.

“So what does it say?”

“Thhh—the. The!” he grinned. “The wi—the wis—”

The slamming of the door cut him off abruptly. Voices echoed from downstairs, ricocheting off the walls. They both tensed.

“You sit there and give me nothing and then you expect me to listen to you when you’re going on about your—”

“Oh, I don’t expect you to listen to me, Áslaug. You never fucking listen to me—”

“Stop yelling! You’re always fucking yelling!”

“You think this is yelling? I’ll show you yelling—”

Brant whimpered as the sound of something shattering against the wall rattled the air. Teki inhaled.

“Come, get your shoes on,” she whispered, slowly pulling him to his feet. If they were quiet enough, Osvald and her mother might not even realize they were home. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Teki had learned long ago to appreciate the ivy outside her bedroom window. Her mother would beat her herself if she knew how often her daughter climbed down the side of the apartment, dress fluttering above her ankles, but it was a risk worth taking. The vines were strong, and they led directly into the royal gardens—the perfect escape.

She went first, guiding Brant down behind her. He wasn’t nearly as agile as she was, but he knew where the right footholds were, and he knew better than to cry out if he slipped. They reached the ground in silence, the cacophony of battle still reverberating behind them.

It was a warm day. Teki pulled Brant through the grass and on to the garden paths. There were only a few hours until dinner—hopefully things would have calmed down by then. Her parents’ arguments usually flamed out fairly quickly. Osvald’s temper had a tendency to linger, however, and Teki knew better than to risk crossing his path while he was angry.

Maybe sitting with the royal family isn’t so bad after all.

Ahead of them, the courtyard was alive with shouts. There was a crowd gathered, chanting and cheering and jumping up and down.

“What’s going on over there?” Brant whispered.

Teki would have preferred to avoid the commotion, but she let her brother pull her towards the pack. They were watching a fight, it seemed—two figures were going at it in the middle of a hastily drawn ring, rushing at each other with giant sticks.

Oh. Teki winced. They must have been practicing for the Games. It was the only time she ever saw those kinds of weighted staffs in use. The Games were an end-of-summer tradition, where all the worthy men of the court would show off their prowess as a warrior and might as a man by jumping into an arena and defeating their opponent in a series of different duels. It wasn’t as much an exercise in strength as it was a display of brutality—usually, the loser was carried out of the arena a bloody mess. Teki spent those days with her head buried in her hands, only occasionally peeking through her fingers when it seemed safe to look.

It was a moment before she recognized Thor, shirtless as he wielded his staff, sparring with another blond she didn’t know. His partner was panting like a dog, but Thor looked as if he hadn’t broken a sweat. Blow by blow, he beat his opponent back in the ring, pushing, pummeling, dominating… until the boy fell backwards, holding his hands up in surrender.

Thor laughed, slamming his staff on the ground. “Is that truly your best effort, Fandral?” he asked as he extended a hand. “I’ve seen some of my mother’s ladies put up a better fight than that!” The crowd snickered with him.

Thor and Osvald would get along well.

She wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but it sunk in like a stone in her stomach. Teki swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Come on, Brant,” she mumbled, pulling at his arm. “Let’s—”

“Hah!”

Teki shrieked at the sudden presence behind her. She flipped around just in time to smack into Prince Loki’s leather chest. He laughed as he reached out to steady her.

For a moment, all she could hear was her pulse pounding in her eardrums. “My prince,” she said shakily, forgetting to curtsey. “You scared me!”

“Many apologies my lady,” Loki grinned, looking anything but apologetic. “I suppose you were too engrossed in your betrothed’s performance to notice me approaching.”

“No, I—” she stuttered. Why did that statement make her feel guilty? “I was just taking my brother out for a stroll, my prince.” She pulled at Brant’s shoulder, who upon Loki’s appearance had taken shelter behind her legs. For some reason, it was critically important that Loki know she hadn’t come here just to watch Thor.

“Ahh.” The prince kneeled to smile at her brother. “And how do you do today, Lord Brant?”

Brant shrank further back behind her legs. “Good,” he mumbled.

Teki flushed with embarrassment, but Loki only laughed. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said. Behind them, Thor was challenging someone else to another sparring session.

“Don’t be a coward! What kind of warrior runs from a fight?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Would you like to walk down to the lake?” he asked. “It’s much more peaceful there. Unless you’d prefer to stay for this madness.”

A crash shook the ground beneath their feet as Thor body slammed his next victim into the dirt. Teki cringed. “The lake sounds lovely, my prince.”

It was funny how easy it was to fall into conversation with Loki. They drifted from topic to topic almost lazily as they made their way across the grounds—how nice the weather had been, how strange it was that Teki was sitting with the royal family now, how overdramatic Thor could be about his training. When they reached their destination, Loki was telling her about his family’s upcoming trip to Alfheim.

“I’m really excited,” he said animatedly. “I’ve only gone once, and I was too young to properly remember much. Father usually takes only Thor when he travels.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Teki smiled. She smoothed out her skirt as they reclined on the grassy banks. There was the slightest breeze rippling through the water, sending tiny ripples to lap against the dirt. The effect was almost hypnotic. “Alfheim’s a beautiful planet.”

“Oh,” Loki looked up eagerly. “Have you been?”

“Oh, no—I—” Teki faltered. Not supposed to talk about this. “My father lived there for a while,” she finally said. “He used to tell me about it.”

She could almost hear him reminiscing in her head. Alfheim is where music lives, he used to say. It sleeps in the trees and dances through the air like a bird. Someday I’ll show you, Teki. Her eyes prickled with tears, but she blinked them away.

“That’s fascinating.” Loki leaned in closer, continuing hesitantly. “Was he—was your father Elvish?”

“Oh no, he was Asgardian. He just traveled around a lot.” She frowned, trying to retrieve the memory. “I think he lived in Vanaheim for a little bit too.”

Loki sighed. He dug his fingers into the grass, tearing at the delicate stalks. “I wish I lived in Vanaheim. That’s where all the most talented magicians study. My mother studied there, for a time.”

“Then why can’t you go?” she asked. She didn’t understand why he looked so forlorn—she couldn’t imagine any magic teacher would turn him down, considering how effortlessly he healed her rib during the Summer Festival.

“Father won’t let me!” he groaned, chucking his handful of grass into lake. “It’s beyond frustrating—I’m more than qualified, but he won’t have it. He says my place is on Asgard and that I shouldn’t be running across the Nine Realms just to chase a hobby.” With a huff, he leaned back against the embankment.

Teki didn’t know how to respond to that. “Well, maybe he’s just waiting until you’re older,” she supplied unhelpfully.

“Maybe.” But she could tell that he wasn’t convinced.

Brant, who had been silent up to this point, tugged on her sleeve.

“He can do magic?” he whispered in her ear. She giggled, squirming from his hot breath. Under any other circumstances, she’d be embarrassed by her brother’s lack of propriety, but for some reason, it didn’t feel out of line in this instance.

“Why don’t you ask him?” she whispered back.

Brant looked up at her with wide eyes, shrinking back behind her again. Teki nudged him gently towards Loki. He glanced back at her again before gulping in a deep breath.

“Can—can you do magic?” he asked, stumbling as he avoided eye contact with the prince.

Loki smiled. “I can, as a matter of fact. Would you like to see?”

Brant nodded shyly. Loki motioned him over, cupping her brother’s tiny hands together. “I want you to hold your hands like this very carefully,” he said, very seriously. “I’m going to give you the magic, but you can’t let go. Alright?” Brant nodded again, brow furrowed in concentration as he stared at his palms. Teki scooted over so she could have a better view of what was happening.

“Now, close your eyes and count to three,” he continued. Brant closed his eyes. “One, two, three!”

Teki gasped. Suddenly, her brother was holding what could only be described as liquid light. It gleamed in his palms, illuminating his face in a yellow glow and glistening in the reflection of his cornflower eyes. His face broke into a wide grin.

“Magic!” he breathed in awe.

Loki chuckled at their astonishment. “Blow on it,” he told Brant. “Go ahead.” Brant blew softly into his hands. The light rippled like water, lapping against his fingertips. He giggled.

“It tickles, Teki!” he whispered.

Teki was mesmerized. “What is that?”

“It’s just a light source. They use it a lot with younger students, because it’s not as difficult to control as fire.” Loki circled his hand once around Brant’s, a quick flick of the wrist. Slowly, the light drained into nothingness. “It was one of the first tricks my mother taught me.”

Brant was turning his hands over and over, as if he was surprised to find them unchanged. “Can you grant wishes?” he asked excitedly.

Both Loki and Teki snorted. “You mean like a Midgardian genie?” he laughed. “I suppose it depends. What wish would you like granted?”

“I wish I had wings!” he cried, leaning forward with a wide grin. “Can you give me wings?” Loki glanced at Teki quizzically. She frowned. Where was this coming from?

“What do you need wings for?” the prince asked.

“Because then I could fly, and sit really high up in the trees, and when I want to go somewhere I could just fly, and then when everything’s bad I can take Teki and fly away so we can live in the clouds until everything gets better again.” He inhaled. “So can you give me wings?”

Teki swallowed. She could feel Loki’s eyes on her, feel the pity in his gaze, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet it. “That wouldn’t work, Brant,” she said thickly. “Clouds are just mist. You can’t live on a cloud. You’d fall right through.”

“Oh.” Brant deflated, sitting back on his knees.

“I’ll look for a spell to give you wings, Brant,” Loki promised, voice soft. “And maybe I’ll find a cloud you can live on, too. There’s all sorts of strange things in the universe.”

Teki stood up. She couldn’t bear this anymore. “We should be getting back,” she said. “We need—we need to get ready for dinner.” Hopefully they’re not still throwing things. Brant stood up obediently, taking her hand.

Loki scrambled to his feet as well. “I can walk you back, if you like?”

“Oh, no—that’s—” Her heart ached at the way his face fell, but her blood ran cold at the idea of Osvald catching her running around with the wrong prince. “Thank you, my prince, but I don’t think that would be necessary.”

“Of course, of course.” Loki bowed slightly, his hands awkwardly fumbling with his sleeves. “Then… I’ll see you at dinner, I suppose?”

Teki forced a smile. “See you at dinner, my prince.”

They walked away, Brant still clutching her palm. Her brother had the right idea, she realized. She too wished they would grow wings and fly away to the clouds.

#dances and daggers #loki x ofc #loki marvel #loki fanfic #dances and daggers chapter 3 #the wish #cozy writes

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xfandomwritingsx · 4 years ago

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The Sweet of Night – Loki Laufeyson – Part 6

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Description: After growing up besides Loki and having a complicated friendship with him, you visit him in his cell at night.

Warnings/Labels: Sexual tension.

Approx. Word Count: 3,900

Story Masterpost

Why is it all the romance in these is always so tame? is the note he leaves in your latest book when he returns it. He isn’t wrong, necessarily. While you’ve always considered the romance in the novels steamy, you must admit it is in a more subtle fashion. You chew on your lower lip and glance to your bookshelf, thinking about one in particular; the one hidden behind the others in a plain, unmarked cover. It is very… erotic.

You’d purchased it from a little shop outside the village and done so in cloak and shadows. You only read it on nights when you can curl up into your bed completely uninterrupted and preferably if you don’t need to be awake early the next morning. It may not be the most eloquently written piece of literature, but it gets the job done, as the saying goes.

No one else even knows you own such a novel and here you are, actually playing with the idea of sending it to Loki. If he wants untamed romance, it’s sitting right there. But, no. That would be too much, wouldn’t it? Even if it was to just poke fun at his question? No, you couldn’t do it. Something about giving him that book feels too intimate, too brash.

You put his note inside your desk drawer, amongst his others, and return the book to your shelf. You run your fingers along the spines of your other novels, trying to find one that might suit his fancy. He’s already gone through most of your collection. Perhaps a different genre? Would a murder mystery intrigue him or bore him? Loki gives off the impression of being someone to figure out who the killer is within the first few chapters and be bored or irritated the rest of the way through.

As you stand there, contemplating what you’re going to do once you have no more books to share, you find your hand reaching up and ghosting over your shoulder. You’re still so unsure about him. Loki holds tight to the stance that he did not do anything, but you could have sworn you felt his hands upon you. You keep your focus on your uncertainty so that you don’t contemplate the more pressing and more concerning question; why did you want to feel it again?

A knock on your door startles you and you jump back from your bookshelf. Checking yourself in your looking glass quickly, you right the collar of your top before moving to answer your door. A servant stands on the other side, head already bowed and holding out a large clothing box that rests on his forearms.

“Your garments for the feast tonight,” he tells you, snapping you out of your initial confusion. You had honestly forgotten about the feast, mind preoccupied with so many other things.

“Thank you.” You take the box from him and with one more bow, he proceeds down the hall. You wish the servants weren’t so formal with you. It makes you feel strange to have such little interaction with them. As you step back into your room, you make a mental note to perhaps schedule some kind of meal with them.

You put the box on your bed and gently remove the top, looking for the note your mother inevitably put inside. She always insists on you having new robes and gowns for feasts and parties. She claims it’s only proper and when she realized you weren’t going to get new clothes yourself, she started sending them to you instead.

With no note on top, you pick up the garment, shaking it out to full length in front of you. It looks tailored to your build, as always, but the style doesn’t quite fit what your mother usually sends. You are used to golds and silvers, sometimes yellows and reds made of shiny silk and satin; all colors and fabrics she sees fit for a royal to wear.

The dress in your hands is velvet dyed a deep but vibrant green. It’s slim, only flaring out at the bottom towards the ankles with a small slit at the bottom. The sleeves will reach three quarters down your arms, no poofing at the shoulders. The neckline is steeper than you’re used to, but it doesn’t look distasteful. When you turn it around, you notice it has a low cut in back as well. It’s quite striking.

You admire it for another moment before looking back inside the box for the note to explain the change in taste. Instead, you only find the thin, delicate wrapping paper and an empty box. You shake out the dress once more to make such nothing stuck to it and then lay it out on your bed to shake out the box. There is definitely no note.

“Odd,” you say to yourself, squinting at the dress. It’s really unlike your mother to not leave a note. You shrug it off however, seeing as how it’s not the oddest thing your mother has done before. You make sure to hang the dress as to not wrinkle it until this evening.

---

The dress is even more striking on your body than it was on its hanger. You smooth your hands over the bodice of it as you watch yourself in the looking glass. You dare say you look quite lovely in it. You adorn your neck with a silver chain necklace you’d received as a birthday gift a few years ago and do your hair into your favorite style for these occasions. While the low cut back does make you feel quite a bit more exposed than normal, the entire air of the gown gives you a boost of confidence to wear it proudly. Slipping on your shoes, you make your way to the feast.

The grand hall to the formal dining room is filled with people and noise as you enter. Few people turn to look at you as you enter, just one person in a crowd. Your eyes scan the hall as you walk through, looking for a friendly face to approach.

You always hate large gatherings like these simply because it puts pressure on you to find someone to socialize with. Standing on the wall and observing, as you would prefer most days, is unbecoming and sometimes seen as rude. While most of the faces here are familiar, there are few you’d fancy speaking to. This leaves you walking down the middle of the hall, searching for any such person and as you walk through the center of so many people, you feel as though you notice more heads turn your way. You ignore it and continue on your way until you see Thor, Sif, and The Warrior’s Three near the entrance door.

Sif notices you first and she does the smallest double take in the midst of their laughter before giving you a sly look from the corner of her eye that you don’t quite understand. You wear a casual smile as you approach them and make yourself known.

“Evening all,” you greet, turning their eyes to you. “I trust everyone is behaving thus far?” You catch a slight widening of Thor’s eyes as his face freezes in place for no more than half a second.

“Now what fun would that be?” Volstagg bellows, taking a drink from the tankard of mead already in his hand. When his eyes fall upon you, the drink is spluttered back into its cup as he roughly coughs out a formal, “My lady.” Fandral claps him on the back to aid clearing his lungs as they all laugh.

“I believe that was meant to imply he likes your outfit tonight,” Sif teases. You shift uncomfortably and give a shy smile, suddenly unable to ignore that feeling of everyone looking at you. “He’s just not articulate enough to say so.”

“You do look quite lovely tonight,” Hogun confirms in a much softer and kinder tone. Sif swiftly links her arm into yours and pulls you close to her side.

“She looks lovely every night,” she says firmly. “You buffoons just never notice a woman unless a certain amount of skin is showing.” You can’t help the small smile on your lips as all four men start blabbering excuses. “If you’ll excuse us,” she interrupts. “Us women have better things to attend to than you gentlemen.” She pulls you away by your arm and you give a little cheeky wave to the boys as she whisks you away, feeling much more confident and less embarrassed.

“You always know just how to handle them,” you compliment her as she walks you off to a quieter corner.

“You say that as if you haven’t put them in their place yourself before.” She unlinks your arms and swipes some drinks off of a passing server’s tray.

“Never with quite the finesse you use.” You take one of the drinks from her and clink them together before each taking a swallow. “I haven’t been around as much as I used to.”

“You’ve become quite the busy woman,” she agrees. “There’s been some curiosity about who you’ve been spending your time with.” She peers at you from over her drink and your mouth drops open.

“No one!” you protest. Her eyes drop to your gown.

“Are you quite sure?” A coy smile is on her lips when she lowers her drink. “That dress is quite a statement piece.”

“You know my mother always picks out my formalwear,” you chastise her. Sif huffs a laugh.

“That does not look like your mother’s doing.” Before you can argue, there’s a hand on your shoulder and your mother is sweeping into the conversation herself.

“Oh I know, but the shop keeper talked me into it at the last moment,” she explains, slipping her hand down to yours and guiding your arm out to the side to admire you. “It certainly is bold, isn’t it? A little change is good.” She lowers her arm and smiles proudly. “Can’t have you dressing like an old maiden now, can we?”

“Mother, a simple change of wardrobe isn’t going to suddenly marry me off.” She shrugs, brushing off your scolding and smiles at Sif who passes you an apologetic look.

“And you look dashing as always, Lady Sif,” she compliments. Sif nods her head in muted gratitude. “Come now, we must find our seats.” Your mother links her arm in yours and for the second time this evening, you’re pulled away.

---

The meal itself, filled with loud commotion over casual conversation, passes quickly. The food is, as always, plentiful and delicious if not a little extravagant. Drink flows easily among the tables, sometimes a little too literally as clumsy hands spill it across the table cloth. You are among one of the firsts to stand and make your way to slightly less crowded and loud sections of the halls.

You venture out towards the gardens where only a few stray people have wandered to yet. The open back of your dress sends a slight chill down your spine, but the longer you stay outside, the less you feel it. You lean your arms on a fence railing and slowly inhale the aroma of the surrounding flowers.

“My lady,” a timid voice says from behind you. You look over your shoulder to see a lad dressed in formal guard’s wear and looking at you with a young face. “I am Fazil Devereux.” He offers you a bow and your body tenses in preparation for what you expect to be an awkward conversation with whom you assume to be Lord Devereux’s eldest son. “I am hoping to steal away a little of your time this evening.”

“That’s very kind of you,” you say gently and formally. “I am, however, quite tired and should retire for the evening.” He gives you an unexpected smile.

“Your mother told me you may decline at first.” You have a hard time keeping a polite look on your face. “I won’t be dissuaded so easily.” His voice is full of young confidence, the kind that tries too hard to be real. The poor lad is trying to be bold in an effort to be attractive and, unfortunately for him, failing.

“Fazil,” you start, ready to change to a sharper tactic if he doesn’t ease soon. You use his name instead of his title, removing your obligated politeness and formality to the interaction. “I don’t think you-”

“There you are!” Thor’s voice booms, interrupting your rejection. He’s besides you in no more than two steps, a hand gently at your elbow. He makes a show of noticing Fazil in front of you, as if he hadn’t seen him prior. “Apologies for the intrusion my good fellow,” His voice is quite loud and you recognize it as his show voice. “I have things I must discuss with my advisor.” There’s a small mixture of fear in the disappointment in Fazil’s eyes as he bows his head.

“Of course, sire.” He looks back to you. “Another time then perhaps.” You give him a clearly forced smile, though you doubt he notices the difference. Once he’s out of earshot, you turn to Thor.

“Thank you,” you whisper with a slight laugh. He smiles warmly down at you and leans against the railing himself.

“It was not a problem. I know a thing or two about unwanted pressures to find a partner.” You turn and lean back down onto the fence again, sighing.

“Yes, but I’m sure your pressures are greater.” You would never dare to think your woes equal to those of the will-be-king.

“Unwanted advances are unwanted advances,” he says. “Comparisons are not needed.” Your lips tilt up softly. Sometimes you forget how kind and even wise Thor can be. He’s grown quite a lot from the boy he used to be. It’s admirable. “You do look very beautiful tonight,” he tells you carefully. “You drew the eye of many men and women.” You begin to feel your face heat. It was not your intention to draw any eyes at all, but it does fill you with a touch more confidence, if you’re honest. Thor looks at the dress again. “It’s a good color on you, which is ironic,” he laughs, looking out whimsically over the flowers.

“Why is that?” you question. His smile is contagious.

“That is my brother’s signature color.” The smile drops from your face. “I must admit he wore it well, but I do dare to say you wear it better than he ever did.” You stick the smile back onto your face when he turns to look at you, fully entertained by his own musings, but he still sees the unease in your eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” You nod. “I just got a chill is all.” The lie swallows easily and Thor lifts his hand to his neck to unbutton the thick cape he adorns.

“Here.” Ever the gentleman, he sweeps his cape off of his shoulders and onto your own even as you politely protest. He steps closer to fasten the button at the front of your neck carefully before fanning the fabric around your body. His hands land on your shoulders and linger, giving you a short squeeze.

“Thank you.” You must admit that it does help the chill and with your back and the dress now covered, you’re breathing a breath of relief all of a sudden. “I don’t believe I’ll be staying much longer though.” Thor gives your shoulders one more squeeze.

“Then you may return it on another day.” He lets his hands fall from you and steps back, still smiling. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” With one more nod from the both of you and a smile over his shoulder as he departs, Thor leaves you to your thoughts.

You linger for barely a minute before your feet are whisking you away in such a hurry that you don’t notice how the garden has filled with more people.

---

“My Lady,” Decimus greets in surprise. “I was not expecting you tonight with the feast.” He straightens and moves to leave his post. “I will retrieve a chair for you.”

“There’s no need,” you assure him, holding out your hand to stop him before passing by. “I won’t be staying long.” Your feet carry you quite quickly to Loki’s cell.

“Well, well, well,” he hums from his spot on his bed as he sees you round the corner. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Was this you?” you ask hurriedly as you poke your arms out through the edges at the front of the cape, showing the sleeves of the dress.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect to get the pleasure of seeing you in it.” He sits up from where he’s lounging and smiles. “My brother’s cloak does not make a good accessory.” There’s a slight bitterness in his tone and you snap your arms back underneath the shield of the cape.

“How did you manage this?” you ask, your bafflement not having faded. “And why?” He shrugs.

“There are still people out there who owe me favors even when I’m locked away in here.” He stands and starts to walk towards you. “Your mother was very easy to convince, I heard. And as for the why part…” He sighs and shrugs again as he gets to the barrier. “It’s a gift.”

“A gift?” you scoff.

“There’s only so much I can offer from within the confines of my prison.” His words sound genuine, which somehow makes you distrust them. “You’ve given me books and companionship. The least I could do is give you a pretty dress worthy of your beauty.”

“You cannot buy me with pretty things,” you tell him, pushing back the blush from his compliment. His smile widens.

“Ah, but I have no need to buy you. I already have your company on a regular basis. I have nothing to gain from such a gift except for your gratitude, should you give it.” You see his eyes try to peer into the cape, to see the dress, but the large fabric hides it well.

“You get off on manipulation and playing with people,” you counter, refusing to let yourself be fooled with soft words. “You gain pure entertainment and pleasure by slipping me into this gown and me parading around in your signature color.” His eyes shift a shade darker, the smile melting into a smirk.

“Is that what you think?” He brings his forearm above his head and rests it on the barrier. “That I lay here in this cell and bring myself to heights of pleasure to the thought of you wearing my color?” Your mouth snaps shut, having stumbled your way into something you hadn’t meant to. Images you’ll never admit you’ve wondered about before are suddenly filling your head. “I assure you my pleasures would come from slipping you out of the gown, not into it.” Your hands fiddle together beneath the cape, breath caught in your throat. “But if you’re so sure, come now.” His eyes trace down you once with a slight nod. “Let me see it on you.” At this point, you’re not sure if he’s demanding or begging. You feel that rush of confidence and it turns to boldness as you lift your fingers up to the button at your neck.

“A show of gratitude, as you called it,” you rationalize as you enjoy the look of surprise in his eyes, having caught him off guard for once.

He remains silent as you push the cape from your shoulders and let it billow onto the floor. His eyes take their time traveling down every inch of your body and then slowly back up again. His breathing is forcedly slow, but his hand above his head has clenched into a fist. He licks his lips once before he speaks again, his voice a husky silk draping over you.

“Turn for me.”

There’s no hesitation in you as you slowly spin around, careful not to let your feet tangle in the cape as you do so. There’s a hiss from Loki when your back is exposed to him and you pause to look over your shoulder at him. There’s always been flirtation, the tease of something, but the way he’s looking at you now leaves no room for debate between either of you; there’s an attraction here. In this moment, you can’t pretend it’s one-sided either.

“Perfect place for a man to place his hand, isn’t it?” you ask coyly. His fist tightens as his hand hanging by his thigh harshly flexes in contrast. “Is that why you chose this one?” You begin to turn again so you can face him. “So you could imagine your hands on me?” He crooks his finger at you, beckoning you closer. Lifting the hem of the dress to avoid tripping, you approach the barrier.

“Do you wish to know what I imagine?” His voice is low and leans down towards you. “I can show you.”

“Show me?” you ask skeptically. Your hand comes to the barrier and his follows, reaching to touch you if only he could.

“Oh yes,” he chuckles. You see movement behind him and it startles you. You shift away from the barrier and he leans for you to see more clearly.

You’re looking at yourself. He’s projected an image of you standing beside an image of himself. You are facing away, the smooth of your back in full view in your dress. The image of him faces you, his hand teasing your shoulder with his fingertips as he watches your image’s face intently.

“I can show you all sorts of things.” The real Loki draws your attention back to him. “You may not be able to touch me, pet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t see it happen.” You can barely feel your feet on the ground and you know the barrier between you is the only thing stopping you from making a very, very bad decision.

“Is that what you do when you’re feeling lonely?” you ask him teasingly. “Put on a little show for yourself?”

“I wonder which answer it is you’re hoping for,” he teases right back. He has no interest in the illusion behind him and you find yourself unable to look away from the flesh and blood man in front of you too. He raises his hand, traces his finger along the barrier before your cheek. “For a man of illusions, I much prefer the real thing.”

“As do I.” There’s a flicker behind him as your images dissolve, but you pay little attention to it.

“Perhaps one day,” he muses.

“Perhaps.” There’s a slightly somber pause that allows the tension to fade enough for you to release yourself from his pull. “I can’t stay,” you tell him regretfully.

“I’m sure the feast wore you out tonight.” He sighs heavily and allows his hands to drop away and lean back.

“It was quite the event,” you admit. “And now I’m sure I’ll have to avoid prying eyes seeing as how I wore what Thor pointed out to me is your color.” Loki chuckles softly as you back away to gather the cloak and refasten it around your neck.

“I have a feeling the court will be much more interested in you walking around in and leaving the feast in Thor’s cloak.” You scoff at him and his notion.

“No one would believe Thor and I are anything of an item.” You readjust yourself and ready to bid him goodnight.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

~~~

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It has been probably my favorite to write. Let me know you liked it by liking, commenting, reblogging, or if you’re really feeling generous, buy me a coffee!

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timetravellingshinigami · 6 years ago

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More of my thoughts on Loki

This is more about Loki in Norse Mythology.

I’ve noticed one interesting thing about him. In my opinion Loki is like a mad scientist not afraid to go beyond the norm to fulfill his curiosity. The myth about him turning into a woman is very interesting(even though its not recorded) imo. (As far as I’ve seen this happened before he met Sigyn or Angrboda) I feel Loki knows that he’s the only one in the realm who can do what he does (shape shift i.e) and he at that point in his long life was curious about what being a woman and giving birth feels like. And as a shape-shifter that is something very easy for him to find out. As far as we know he went to Midgard in that form and stayed there for eight years and had children. This is something he cannot do in Asgard obviously. I don’t think an Aesir man he tricks into having sexual relations with him is going to very pleased when he finds out the pretty lady he had slept with was a man (and that too Loki). That would have resulted in some unpleasant consequences for Loki that he’s not ready to face. So, Midgard is definitely the best place for his experiments. As far as I’ve found we don’t really know what happened after the children are born. Loki obviously returns to his own realm and nothing is known about his Midgardian children. Does he visit them? Look out for them? None

His relationship with Angrboda is the same i feel. It’s another way for him to know what kind of freaky children they could have. I even found a statement that said, Loki told Angorboda that she would be his primary wife and not Sigyn (we don’t know how true that is) These children are not liked by the Gods but are also considered necessary. Loki, in the Lokasenna, even makes mention of the children he had with Angorboda.

Sigyn i feel is a royal wife or to say his legitimate wife. Someone he married in front of witnesses and accepted by all the Aesir as Loki’s primary wife. Her loyalty to Loki when he was sent to his punishment is something which i feel is expected of her as a wife but not something necessary. The poem Lokasenna is hilarious 😂 That’s all i could think about. Loki brings into the open all the scandalous happenings of the Gods around him. We also know that he has a son with Tyr’s wife and has had sexual relations with Thor’s wife Sif. This all of course is considered normal happenings. What bothers me is the story where Loki turning into a mare to stop the horse Svadilfari from completing the building of a wall. The reason the wall was built was because Loki allowed it. Long story short the Gods had issue with the wall being completed so fast and threatened Loki with death if he didn’t do something to stop the horse. Loki being afraid of the consequences agreed to find a solution irrespective of what happened to him…. and that’s how Sleipnir came about. I have seen many fans here that make fun and joke about Loki having sex with a horse and i just realised that the whole situation screams non-con. Loki was definitely not happy doing that. It was the only quick method he could think up that would keep him alive.

Other than that though i noticed Loki, ones he’s satisfied his curiosity about something he moves on. Or he’s never satisfied but gets bored and moves on to new adventures and experiences.

It reminds me of his words in Thor The Dark World, “Satisfaction isn’t in my nature”.

#just my personal thoughts #loki #norse mythology #loki norse mythology #loki odinson #jotunheim #asgard

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rnufharose · 6 years ago

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The Thunder God’s Bride [Thor x OC]

Chapter 4

Warnings: None. Maybe verbal abuse and bullying.

Words: 1474

Tapestries were etched into the walls of several rooms, many of which chronicled the deeds of the gods themselves. There was one of Odin, who fostered peace and prosperity unto his kingdom and the rest of the Nine Realms, banishing his firstborn Hela, the Goddess of Death, who would never witness the evolution of the Asgardian people. There were several of Thor and Loki, who fought side by side in battle with the Goddess of War and her Warriors Three. There were even tapestries of beautiful feasts and gold towers that rivaled the skyscrapers Cat always passed by in her home city of Manhattan--it seemed this world's grandeur was unlike any other.

Despite all of this, Cat wanted to leave. It wasn't that she hated this world--far from it. She only wished for her life to be back to normal. She turned away from the tapestries, looking at the pendent Thor had given to her as a gift. The rubies were still swollen, and once the rose blooms, the petals would start to fall.

"I have to be careful," she said to herself, closing her hand around the small rosebud. "I can't fall for him... I just can't..." The last thing she needed right now was to think about being married to a man she had never met. Surely Thor could find a better person to marry. She could tell the women on Asgard were far more beautiful than her. Would they even approve of their king being with a mortal? She wondered.

Moving away from the tapestries and walking through the corridors, Cat tried to find her way around the massive palace. After her tour with Loki, she had figured out how to get around to her room, the kitchen, the dining hall, and the throne room, but not the rest of the chambers that were within the gold walls. She sighed with defeat, frowning and continuing to walk down the hallway before she noticed several guards walking past her, and one of them was dressed in silver armor, her thick black hair cascading down her back.

Before Cat could avert her eyes, she tripped over someone's foot and yelped, falling forward and landing on the floor with a thud. She grunted with discomfort and furrowed her brows, hissing as she felt the sprain that pinched away at her ankle.

"You're in the way!" the woman above her said with disdain. "We don't want a mortal girl wandering around!"

As Cat pulled herself to a seated position she looked over her shoulder, "I'm so sorry about that--oh!" She met the woman's eyes. She remembered seeing her armor in the throne room, accompanied by that silver mask she also had.

"You're a nuisance!" The woman spat and the guards behind her agreed, giving a single nod.

"Who are you?" Cat asked and the woman scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I am Lady Sif, the Goddess of War, and I do not tolerate a shameless mortal prancing around Thor's palace!" Sif exclaimed, lifting her chin and staring at the brunette menacingly. "Don't be conceited just because he made a mortal his bride! You're an ugly, shabby, dull human girl, and you don't deserve him!"

Cat pulled herself to her feet despite the pain, shaking her head in disagreement, "Look, I disapprove of this marriage just as much as you do. If you're the Goddess of War, shouldn't you come at me on your own without your subordinates surrounding you?"

"Oh, look, the mortal is schooling me," Sif threw her head back, laughing, before she stepped forward, glaring daggers at the Midgardian girl. "Listen well, you ugly woman, I've known Thor longer than you have, so if anyone deserves to be his bride, it should be me, so stay out of his way and I will make your death quick and painless!"

"Gladly," That was all Cat needed to say. She turned away from the ravenette and continued down the corridor, wincing ever so slightly as her swollen ankle continued to ache. She was just going to have to bear it for the time being. Her regenerative abilities would fix up her injury in minutes. In the meantime, she needed to put her foot up.

"Are you alright?"

There was another feminine voice coming from one of the rooms to her left and Cat came to a stop, turning toward a woman who was just as tall as her, with tanned skin and brown hair. She wore white garbs and a blue cape, which went well with the angelic mask she had on before.

The young woman smirked and held her hips, tilting her head to the side, "Sorry about Sif. She can be very possessive of His Majesty."

The hazel-eyed girl wasn't sure how to react. She suspected this woman would also treat her the way Sif did, but she wasn't at all. Her smirk was friendly, and she wasn't insulting her at all. "I-It's fine." Cat waved a hand and grinned. "This isn't the first time I've come across people like her."

"Well, I assure you I'm nothing like her," she laughed and walked up to her. "The name's Brunnhilde, but you can call me Valkyrie."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Valkyrie," Cat gave her a single nod. "I know that it must be odd, your king choosing a mortal and all, but I don't want--"

"To be honest, I don't really mind," Valkyrie shrugged, walking with Cat as they rounded a corner. "My view is, be with whoever you want. I have a girlfriend in the ranks of the Valkyrie and no one seems to care. If His Majesty likes you, then that's his choice."

"But... what if I don't like him?" She held the necklace in her hand again, recalling Thor's wager about her falling in love with him. "I don't even know him... and he's insistent that I marry him."

"Milady, even though His Majesty is thick-headed, he has a good heart," Valkyrie assured her, patting her arm. "He saw something in you that Sif doesn't have, and many of the women on Asgard definitely don't have it. People here see mortals as pests but His Majesty has a fondness for them, especially female mortals--sometimes a little too much." She added with a snicker.

"You're also saying I should give him a chance." It wasn't a question. Merely, a statement. "Loki told me the same thing as well."

"I am saying exactly that," the two of them came across a lounge with a vast balcony overlooking the city. Ships flew through the flickering rainbow sky and Cat could see the people walking through the streets of Asgard.

"It's beautiful outside," Cat commented as she looked down. "I want to explore this world since it reminds me of my books but... I also want to go home." Speaking of books, Cat was beginning to miss the bookshelf in her apartment. She would always curl up on the couch or the fire escape outside her bedroom window with some tea and macaroons, but she wasn't even sure if she would ever regain that feeling again.

"I think you should," Valkyrie crossed her arms. "Look, it is going to take time to adjust, but trust me, His Majesty wants you with all his heart. Please give him a chance." She turned toward the door and gestured. "I'm heading out on patrol but we will meet again soon Milady. That is a promise I intend to keep."

Cat watched her walk away, her blue cape gliding behind her. Besides Rena and Loki, Valkyrie was also very kind to her. She didn't really care what Sif said to her. Her words didn't affect her since she too didn't want any part of this arrangement. Her ankle was starting to heal and Cat took a seat on the lavish sofa. What she wouldn't give to have a book and some tea with her right now. This lounge was quite peaceful and it somehow brought her solace from the homesickness she was feeling at the moment.

Sighing as she laid on the sofa, feeling the feathery cushions against her body, Cat tucked her hands underneath one of them, curling up into a ball. She didn't know what to do. With Loki and Valkyrie urging her to give Thor a chance, it felt as if she wasn't given any more options. She didn't have a choice, to begin with. All she could do here was wear the gold dress that hung lightly on her shoulders, walk through the palace and get lost, and listen to Sif's insults.

Cat felt like nothing but a beautiful object that had adorned the palace walls. She felt like Thor's trophy. She doesn't want to get to know him. She doesn't want to have anything to do with him.

@scarletraine @marvelfansworld @mademoiselledubois @thewayilookatbacon @fuckthatfeeling @mydnightsdance @shileen91 @cjmacember

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ravennawritesfanfiction · 7 years ago

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The Raven and Her Wolf- Chapter 11: Fit For A Princess

Rose’s discussion had left her with more to think about than answers to her questions. She knew that Frigga was probably right about not thinking about what she had seen, however, she still wanted to know for sure what she had seen. What if she could prevent it by knowing?

Loki found her the next morning, though he was in high spirits, she couldn’t bring herself to share the feeling. At breakfast, Thor tried to get a rise out of her, just to be ignored. Loki grew worried about her and asked Frigga what had been said. He agreed with his mother, that Rose should just pretend that it never happened.

A week went by and after trying and failing multiple times to find the Oracle, Rose finally admitted defeat and went back to her life as it had been. Loki was overcome with relief.

There had been several conversations between Loki, Thor, and Odin about the matter of Loki’s right to wed. Thor was oldest and should marry before Loki, however, Thor maintained that he couldn’t be happier about how everything worked out.

Loki found you in the garden the morning after the final discussion. He wasn’t wearing his usual wardrobe and it was a pleasant change. He looked so nervous; perhaps Odin had decided to kick her out after all.

“Good morning, Rose. How are you today?”

“Loki, Dear, I am fine, but why are you being so formal?”

“I have a matter that is most important to discuss with you. Oh, nevermind being formal. It feels wrong. Rose Crane, will you do me the honor of ruling by my side as my Queen?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Please say that you will.”

“Of course, Loki. I would want nothing more than to be your Queen!”

It wasn’t the proposal that she would have expected, but he was royalty and there were probably guidelines on how one is to propose to their future spouse. The Asgardian culture never ceased to confuse and amaze her.

Since she had agreed, the wedding wouldn’t have to wait for long. Unlike in Midgardian culture, where you can be engaged for however long it took to plan and arrange the perfect wedding, everything here moved fairly quickly and it didn’t leave a lot of time for cold feet.

The Palace transformed before her eyes; in a matter of days, it was completely ready to house the most ornate wedding imaginable. Flowers were free to climb every pillar and red carpets lined the way Rose was to walk in less than two days. White benches were set out and Frigga diligently sent out invitations. Thor disappeared a few days before the wedding, and no one knew or would say where he had gone.

Rose was beyond nervous. Frigga and Lady Sif set out to pick the best dress, and they couldn’t seem to come to an agreement. In the end, Rose agreed with Lady Sif’s choice of a slightly loser fitting dress that allowed her to breathe better. Frigga’s choice had been equally as stunning but was a little tighter that Rose would have liked for such an exciting day where breathing was important.

When Thor finally turned up again, he wasn’t alone. It had been over a decade since Rose had seen them, but she knew it was them before she even saw their faces. The man was very stiff and clearly didn’t want to be there. The woman kept shifting about, taking in all of the scenery around her. Loki was talking to them, although he was mostly talking to the man.

Loki would make a good diplomat. Rose knew it wasn’t easy to speak to this man, but Loki was making a good show. She was secretly proud of Loki for putting in the effort. Thor found her watching and gave her a hug. When she asked what that had been for, all Thor could say was “That man is terrifying. You are so brave.” Rose let out a laugh, Loki had heard her and bowed as she left the visitors to look about.

“You should talk to them.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt. What did he have to say?”

“A lot along the lines of��‘Why am I here? Who are you? and Where are we?’”

“Dear Lord, what did you say?”

“’You are here because you were invited and I am Loki, Prince of Asgard. As for where you are, you are in Asgard.’“

“He won’t want to speak to me.”

“You’re probably right, but she will.”

At this point, Rose wasn’t sure whether if she was nervous about getting married or talking to two close strangers.

“Hello, Mother, Father.”

“Rose! Look at you! You look so gorgeous!”

Her mother was over to her and holding her in a matter of minutes and was quietly sobbing on her shoulder. Her father hadn’t moved or acknowledged her in any way. She had expected nothing less.

“I missed you so much, Sweetheart. Where have you been? I heard you were fighting in Washington’s Army.”

“I was, Mother. I missed you too.”

“And that is precisely why I don’t want to be here. You are a traitor to the Crown.”

Your father had always had a way of crushing nice moments. It made you so mad, but now you were in a position to do something about it.

“Perhaps, but now I am wearing a crown, so it was all worth it.”

“Why are we here? He wouldn’t answer the question.”

“He answered it just fine. You are here because you were invited.”

“Why?”

“That man is my Fiance and you are here for my wedding. Don’t worry, you won’t be walking me down the aisle. His brother is.”

“You ungrateful little brat!”

“I am grateful to many people for many things, you aren’t one of them. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go speak with the Queen; my future mother in law. Mother, it was lovely seeing you. Father.”

Rose turned and left, Thor and Loki were hot on her heels and it took them both a few paces to actually catch her. Thor had gone pale. Loki had that look of pride on his face again. Neither of them could believe that Rose had told him off like that. Though Loki had to admit that he had wanted to say something himself, though he had thought better of it.

The day before the wedding had Rose too busy to really spend time with Loki, and she wasn’t going to see him at all that night. Frigga had invited Rose’s mother to help with the final touches and both women seemed to get along quite well. They hadn’t heard Rose come back from running an errand and she could hear Frigga talking with her mother.

“She is a brave girl, Rose. The risk she took saving Loki in the woods was great, but she knew she couldn’t stand back and watch it happen. I mean no disrespect, but I noticed how your husband speaks to you and others he deems below him. Why do you let him? I imagine Rose had to get her bravery somewhere.”

“Honestly, Your Highness, it is not my place to speak to him in the manner required to stand up to him. Wives are property in our culture. He treats me accordingly. Rose is a creature of her own making. She didn’t like being ignored and she did something about it. She was deemed too strong-willed to find a spouse back home. The man she loved was promised to another. I drove her to fight and then he died. I’m not sure it is bravery rather than being too proud to say she can’t. She borders on stupid and reckless. So did her brother. They call it honor because it sounds better.”

“Well, as a mother. I am immeasurably grateful to her for her actions and sacrifice. My sons would not be alive without her recklessness.”

“Sorry it took me so long, Lady Sif wanted to show me something. What were you talking about?”

“You, Sweetheart. I am so proud of you. Do you know that? You have grown so much. I remember when you would pick a fight just to prove you were better than someone else. No, you are more reserved and there is an air of elegance about you; I had all but given up on you ever being a lady. I am sorry I didn’t do more to make you stay.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. I made a difference. I lead my men with dignity, I fought alongside Ichabod, and I did something that mattered without even knowing the implications of my actions. I am glad I left because I grew. I would have stayed the same if I hadn’t left Dover.”

Frigga’s smile was that of motherly pride. Rose’s mother, teared up and pulled her daughter into a hug. She had never received this much affection from her mother in her entire life. It was the closure she needed.

Thor looked so handsome in his ceremonial attire. Rose was definitely happy she picked this dress over the other. As it was, she was hyperventilating. She could see her parents sitting in the front row. Her mother had on the prettiest dress she had ever seen. It suited her and she deserved to have something nice.

From between the curtains, she could see Loki standing up front with Odin and Frigga. He had never looked better and it made Rose melt just looking at him. Loki turned to face her and she knew Loki was taking advantage of the connection.

“That’s not fair. You can see me while I am left using my imagination. You’ll pay for that. Look into a mirror and your punishment will be swift.”

If she couldn’t feel the teasing behind his words, she would have been worried. She remained planted where she was out of spite.

“Very well. Slowly it is.”

She could see his smile from where she stood, hidden.

Before she thought something else, they were given the signal and Thor held out his arm. She took it and the curtain was pulled aside. Everyone was on their feet and a little Asgardian girl was throwing white rose petals down in front of her and Thor. They started walking and there were awes coming from all directions. Loki was tearing up and smiling. He was barely able to stand still. He would have blown it had Frigga not placed a hand on his arm, steadying him.

When Rose reached her mother, she paused long enough to give her a kiss. Her father, the stern man that he was, was tearing up and Rose gave him a kiss too. Then went back to Thor to continue the rest of her trip to Loki’s side.

When they were to Loki, Thor did the handoff and whispered in Loki’s ear.

“Take care of her brother.”

Thor gave you a kiss on the cheek and then moved to your other side. Odin began the ceremony.

“We are gathered here today as witnesses to the marriage of Prince Loki and Lady Rose. Any who object, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

There was a deadly silence in the hall as everyone was afraid that they would ruin the day.

“The Prince and Lady will now share their vows to each other. Loki.”

“Rose, I vow before all who witness, that for as long as there is still breath in my body, I will defend you and fight along your side. Ruling as equals until the end of our days. You have saved my life and this is a debt I will pay back to you for all of eternity.”

“Rose.”

“Loki, you have saved me from evils so dark, I couldn’t fight them myself. You have helped me grow as a person and been my rock when I felt as though I might drown. I will honor you until my dying breath.”

“Loki, do you take Rose to be your lawfully wedded wife, to rule by your side in sickness and in health, for the better or poorer of this kingdom as long as you both shall live?”

“I do”

“Rose, do you take Loki to be your lawfully wedded husband, to rule by your side in sickness and in health, for the better or poorer of this kingdom as long as you both shall live?”

“I do”

“I, Odin, the All-Father, pronounce you husband and wife, Prince and Princess of Asgard. Turn and face your subjects.”

The wedding wasn’t to be sealed with a kiss, as intimacy and affection were to be kept behind closed doors. It wasn’t a weakness, it just wasn’t proper. Instead, they turned to face the entire population of Asgard as they kneeled before their future Queen and King.

The walk out of the hall was long and many of the citizens threw roses down as they passed by. Her parents followed out next with Frigga and Thor behind them. Odin was next and everyone else followed him.

The night passed in a blur as alcohol was served and Rose never did find her parents in the crowd of people. Still, it was a night fit for a Princess.

Odin had one final order of business, as the Princess, it would be in the best interest of the kingdom if she didn’t grow old and die before Loki. So as his gift, he gave her the Golden fruit and granted her with a semi-immortality. She was now like them, extended lifespan and strength.

#loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#marvel #asgard #royal wedding #the raven and her wolf

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mystarsforanempire · 7 years ago

Text

Loki’s Timeline

Just a timeline of marriages, big events & children. I’m going to say a YEAR of ageing for the Asgardians, once they’re adults, is the equivalent of 100 years; when they’re growing up, the equivalents are definitely a bit screwy. Re: the myth fusion, I take a lot of the mythos into my portrayal, but none of the Baldr stuff, and I also exclude Skadi.

General warnings for trauma, character death and sexual assault. I have a lot of tragedy in Loki’s past, but none of it is really an excuse? So, please don’t read any of this as a reason to woobify or excuse any of Loki’s monstrous behaviours.

He’s awful because he chooses to be, and the trauma of his past doesn’t excuse what he does with his free will.

BIRTH -- Discovered by Odin Borsson and taken home to Odin and Frigga. Loki’s new brother, Thor, is old enough to be curious, but not old enough to ask questions or remember their answers.

Aged 250 years (~5) -- Loki is old enough to begin his experimentation with seiðr, and often mimics the magic his father and mother perform. Brimming with natural talent, he shows a great love of magic in his day to day life, and although he is still a young child, he immediately takes a great deal of interest in his studies.

Aged 400 years (~8) -- Loki is proficient enough in his magic to transform himself into other forms for temporary periods, although they have to be close in size to his own. Thor, for the past while, has been given basic training by members of the palace guard and by his father; Loki, impatient to begin his own training, shows an aggressive interest in weaponry such as knives and poisons.

Aged 800 years (~14) -- Loki now jealously watches Thor practice with the Warriors Four every day, not permitted to join their practice himself. He takes tutelage in both magic and knife-skills from his mother, but isn’t yet ready in either of his parents’ minds to fight against any of the older youths. Loki is now able to take on a great many forms, and is able to create crude imitations of himself in magical illusion.

Despite these strengths, Loki is often mocked by Fandral & Thor particularly, as Loki grows no stubble and remains as pale as ever, looking very different to them, with their golden hair and rosy cheeks. When Sif makes the mistake of joining in on their mockery, Loki loses his temper, and spells her hair out of her head: forced to try to make the situation right, he visits the Dwarves of Svartalheim to get her a new head of golden hair, and he also retrieves the hammer Mjolnir and several other gifts for those of the Gods’ Council.

As punishment for cleverly avoiding having to pay the Dwarves, Loki’s mouth is sewn shut with a needle and thread; when Sif mocks this, he turns her hair to be as dark and unshining as his own. (The Dwaves Of Svartalheim is written in its entirety here.)

Aged 950 years (~16) -- Loki spars with Thor, Fandral, Hogun, Sif and Volstagg every day, and accompanies his brother on adventures close to home. Loki has a reputation for playing minor tricks and japes upon some of the citizens of Asgard, but is often asked by some members of the city for help with minor disputes and considerations, although not when it comes to fighting off beasts as Thor might be asked.

Loki is now old enough to attend the Council of the Gods, and on the first occasion he does so, the issue at hand is that of a Jotunn visiting Asgard. He offers to fortify Asgard from any outer attack by creating a gigantic wall, but he demands as recompense the sun, the moon, and the hand of the goddess Freya in payment. Loki, desperate to impress the other Gods, suggests that they give him only three months in which to complete his work, that the Council can avoid giving him payment at all. Gladly, the Gods agree to Loki’s plan.

Aided by the great stallion, Svadilfari, the giant smith looks like he may be about to finish his goal, and the Gods blame Loki for the fact that they will have to offer the recompense they promised: Odin tells him that if Freya is to be given to the giant smith, he will make of a wedding gift Loki’s head.

Transforming into a mare, Loki leads the stallion far away from the giant smith, running until the last days of winter have given way to spring, but so exhausted by his run, he is unable to transform back into his true form, and he cannot fight off the stallion’s lust.

Some months later, Loki gives birth to the eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, and the foal is taken away to become Odin’s steed. Odin and Heimdall are the only ones who know about about Sleipnir’s parentage, and Odin means it as a kindness to save Loki the humiliation of the situation, but Loki never forgives him. (The Coming Of The Giant Smith told in its entirety here.)

Aged 1050 years (~17) -- Loki is responsible for the kidnapping of his good friend, Idunn, and must then make moves to retrieve her. Her kidnapper, the Jotunn Thjazi, is killed by the Council of the Gods for his crimes. Inspired by the events of Idunn’s rescue, Loki begins to utilize his newfound ability: he Skywalks from place to place, and begins to visit far-distant realms from his own.

Aged 1100 years (~18) -- Loki meets the Jotunn woman Angrboda on his travels, and falls head over heels for her bright spirit and warlike capabilities. He spends day after day offering her his heart on a platter, and with every day, she grows more fond of him. They marry in the dead of winter, beneath naked trees on a blanket of hard snow, then elope to an island on the edge of forever, surrounded on every side by harsh seas, and together they have three children.

First, the great serpent, JORMUNGANDR; next, the lovely and round-cheeked HEL, and lastly, the wolf, FENRIR. Loki, far away from the City of Asgard, spends his days in the deep waters of the endless ocean, playing with his children and his wife. Loki, so full of the love he could never lay upon the back of his first son, Sleipnir, cannot believe how lucky he is to have such children.

Aged 1200 years (~19) -- A seer tells the Council of the Gods back in Asgard that the children of Loki will lead to Ragnarok: Odin is immediately worried the seer means the stallion Sleipnir, but the seer goes on to say that the leader will be the child that runs on four legs, with amber eyes. The Council of the Gods seek out the home of the newly weds on a day when Loki is far absent, hunting a great deer with which to feed his family.

Odin casts the great serpent Jormungandr into the sky, cursed to eat his own tail, to ensure that he cannot break away and bring about Ragnarok; the goddess Hel he casts into the underworld, that she might rule the realm with her icy fist and not break away to bring about Ragnarok; finally, the wolf Fenrir, still naught but a pup, he binds in chains deep beneath the halls of Asgard, unable to ever break away.

In the skirmish between Odin and these three children of Loki, the goddess Angrboda is killed, and when Loki returns to his home, a freshly butchered deer upon his shoulders, he is so distraught and full of rage that the seas around their island home are brought to a tumultuous boil, leaving no water, and a layer of salt upon the sand.

Loki is dragged back to Asgard kicking and screaming, and he levels whole forests before he exhausts himself and falls unconscious upon the ground, his skin sizzling with overpowering magic. Odin carries his son home in his arms, although clutching the body burns his own hands, and for the next few months, he and Frigga take it in turns to take care of him, as the overuse of his magic has worked him into a dangerous fever that could easily kill him.

Loki initially forgets his children and his wife, and slowly pieces together his memory as he recovers from the fever. By the time he remembers everything, his children already despise him: the serpent Jormungandr moves away from his hand, the wolf Fenrir snarls and slavers at him, and the young goddess Hel will not respond when he tries to call upon her.

Aged 1500 years (~21) -- Odin arranges a marriage for Loki, wanting for him to be able to forget Angrboda and his lost children. Loki is unwilling, but each day Sigyn brings him flowers and does her best to make him laugh, and with each day, Loki’s hardened heart softens. They marry in the warmth of springtime, in robes sewn of flower petals and ornamented in gold.

Sigyn bears Loki two twin boys: Narfi and Valí. These two children are full of Norse blood and brightness: they are each sweet and sharp in terms, and Loki adores them, puts his very heart into raising them. He doesn’t isolate himself as he did with Angrboda, but remains a warrior alongside Thor and his Warriors Four.

Narfi and Valí play alongside the many children to Volstagg, and for the first time, Loki feels like he truly belongs. He still grieves for Angrboda and his lost children, but no matter how he tries, he cannot coax his children into listening to desperate apologies. Loki teaches his children what he can of magic, and Sigyn teaches them the name and origin of every flower and tree around them.

When Narfi and Valí are around eight years old (400/500 years), Loki joins Thor and Odin on a trip to Alfheim, where an elf takes offence to a well-meaning comment of Thor’s. When the Elf attempts to poison Thor’s wine, Loki takes offence to such underhanded moves being brought into play (by someone other than him) and he humiliates the Elf publicly in the nearby square.

The Elf goes to Asgard, and curses Valí, turning him into a wolf, that he might devour Narfi. When Loki returns to Asgard, discovering that one of his sons is missing and the other has been mauled to death, the Elf sends him Valí’s pelt. Loki and Sigyn part ways.

Aged 1900 years (~25) -- Instead of angry, this time, Loki is unfeeling, and disappears for around three hundred years. Although Odin, Frigga and Thor each search for him, he is nowhere to be seen; he uses a special magic to hide himself from Heimdall’s Allsight, and when he returns, finally, he pretends he does not hear the questions asked of him.

He slips into his position as Thor’s brother, and focuses his attentions on this duties as prince. He refuses any woman that so much as looks in his direction.

Aged 2100 years (~27) -- The events of Thor.

#v; in times of youth #t; headcanon #c; superior self | loki

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