Author's Note: Okay, first of all, I feel I should let you all know that I have never read a Thor comic in my life; this fic is based mostly on the movie universe and what information about the comics/Norse mythology I can find online. When I saw the movie I loved it and absolutely adored Loki's character, and I thought he deserved some lovin'! This story introduces my OC, Rika, who has been running around my head for a long time now. She wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote about her! I originally intended for this to get her out of my system, but I just keep coming up with ideas, so this will likely be the first in a series of one shots based around Loki and Rika. Hope you like it! Also, the site absolutely killed my formatting when I uploaded. I tried to fix it as best I could, so hopefully there's nothing too terrible going on down there.
Disclaimer: The only things I own are Rika and the plot. Everything else belongs to Marvel.
Loki, second son of Odin and prince of Asgard; called Silvertongue, Liesmith, and God of Mischief, among other things. He's been my friend for as long as I can remember. We've been through so much together: decades of lessons, hundreds of battles, thousands of adventures, and so much more.
And I've been in love with him for centuries.
I've never told anyone, of course. It's always been my private little secret, something I hold close in the deepest part of me. And that's because I'm afraid, I suppose. Afraid of ruining what we already have, of losing his friendship. I couldn't bear that. So I keep it to myself, going through life pretending I'm not deeply, thoroughly in love with my best friend.
"Rika!"
I turn as someone loudly shouts my name, and see Sif hurrying towards me, looking faintly irritated. I slow down and wait for her to catch up.
"Yes, my friend?" I ask, arching an eyebrow at her expression.
"Rika, I have been calling out to you for the past few minutes. Did you not hear me?"
I shake my head. "Sorry Sif, I must have been daydreaming."
The beautiful warrior rolls her eyes and falls into step beside me. "That is an understatement. Did you forget what day it is?"
I frown as I try to figure out what she's talking about. Then it hits me and I stop dead in my tracks, slapping a hand to my forehead and squeezing my eyes shut. I hear Sif laugh softly at my reaction and crack open one eye to look at her; she is grinning lopsidedly and shaking her head in amusement.
"Come, my forgetful friend," she teases, taking me by the arm and steering me back towards the palace district. "Let us go get ready."
...
"There you are, brother," Thor says in a booming voice as he claps me on the shoulder. "Not yet ready for the feast?"
I turn to look at my older brother. He is already wearing his ceremonial armour, complete with the long scarlet cape and winged helmet. "No, not yet," I reply.
Thor shakes his shaggy blond head. "There is not much time left before the feasting begins, Loki. Mother and Father surely will not tolerate lateness today."
I sigh and place the large tome in my hands back on the shelf. Thor is right. I must go prepare myself for the celebration. However, I am not much looking forward to an entire evening surrounded by Asgard's nobility, most of whom I find incredibly dull. Thor seems to have guessed at my train of thought, for he looks at me sympathetically.
"I know you do not want to go, brother, but it may not be quite as terrible as you imagine."
I raise a skeptical eyebrow. "And what gives you that impression?"
Thor grins almost wickedly. "Rika will be there," he says simply.
Suddenly the prospect of attending tonight's celebration does not seem so bad after all. I turn and leave the palace library, heading towards my chambers. Thor comes with me.
"Loki?" he says, his voice unusually quiet.
"Yes Thor?"
He pauses, waiting for me to meet his eyes before he continues. "Why do you not simply tell her how you feel?"
I let out a long breath. This topic has been coming up every now and then ever since Thor guessed at my feelings for Rika almost half a century ago. I had admitted the truth when he asked me outright, not thinking at the time that he would then take it upon himself to attempt to get me to admit the truth to her. I confess, I have toyed with the idea many times; but I always lose my nerve long before I actually get to the point of telling Rika how I feel about her.
"Because, Thor," I reply, "as I have told you countless times before, I am certain she could never return my feelings. And I could not stand to make things awkward and lose her friendship."
"And as I have pointed out to you before," Thor says as we enter my chambers, "you cannot be certain of her feelings when you have never given her a chance to reveal them."
Refusing to acknowledge the truth of his words, I silently cross the large room and begin to change into my own set of ceremonial armour. Nothing is said while I strap on the many pieces of armour, nor while I fasten my own long green cape to my shoulders. It is not until I reach up to place my horned helmet on my head that Thor breaks the silence.
"Very well, brother. Have it your way." He briefly clasps my shoulder before crossing to the door. "But I wish to see you happy."
His sincere words surprise and touch me, and it is a long moment before I turn around to respond. When I do, I find that my brother has left me alone with my thoughts.
...
The wedding anniversary of King Odin and Queen Frigga is always a cause for much celebration in Asgard, and this year is no exception. As I enter the palace with Sif I see that the whole place has been extravagantly decorated since I was last here early this morning; we cross the entrance hall with a large group of other finely dressed nobles and make our way down the large main hallway towards the palace's largest ballroom.
Halfway down the hallway we hear our names called out from behind us and turn to see the Warriors Three - Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun - coming towards us, all of them dressed in their finest armour. We stop and wait for them to join us. Fandral bows and brushes a quick kiss over my knuckles, then repeats the action with Sif, grinning his perpetual charming grin; Volstagg smiles hugely and gives us a loud and cheerful greeting from behind his big bushy beard; and Hogun nods his head, stoic as ever.
A genuinely happy smile finds its way onto my lips; I adore these people, my closest friends and comrades. All that is missing from our group is Thor with his booming voice and easy smile; and Loki with his mischievously gleaming eyes, his quiet laugh, his handsome face, his sculpted body...
I shake my head slightly to clear it and fervently hope that no one notices the blush creep into my cheeks. It is not a good idea for me to dwell on thoughts of Loki right now, especially those kinds of thoughts. I'll need to be able to concentrate on the myriad of rituals and formalities that will begin the feasting. I fall into step beside Volstagg and he offers me his arm as we all continue down the hallway and enter the ballroom, which is even more elaborately decorated than the rest of the palace; the five of us cross the massive room and head towards our seats at the table to the immediate right of the high table, as is our privilege as honoured warriors and protectors of Asgard.
As we draw closer to the high table I notice that both Thor and Loki are already seated there, conversing cheerfully. As I watch them, Loki raises his head and looks at me. I give him a bright smile and a little wave as I release Volstagg's forearm and take my seat between him and Fandral to await the beginning of the feast.
...
The grand ballroom gradually fills up with people while I sit at the high table with Thor. Though my brother has engaged me in conversation as we wait for our parents to arrive I cannot keep myself from glancing at the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rika. Thor has just launched into the tale of something amusing that happened while he was sparring with Volstagg that morning when I look up again and see her.
My breath catches in my throat. My Rika is always a beauty, but tonight she looks utterly stunning, wearing a long, flowing gown of deep purple silk. The bodice is form-fitting, hugging her slender frame perfectly, and at the hips the skirt becomes looser and flares out slightly, swaying as she walks. The sleeves of the dress are loose and sheer, and end at her elbows. Rika's dark red hair has been curled and piled on top of her head in a fancy style, with a few curls left loose to frame her face. As she draws closer I can see that her neck and wrists are adorned with simple silver jewellery, and there are tiny amethysts scattered throughout her hair.
Rika meets my eyes and waves, her face lighting up with a smile, and I suddenly feel as if all the breath has been knocked out of me. I can't take my eyes off of her. I long to go to her. I am about to rise from my chair as she takes her seat between Volstagg and Fandral; but at that moment Thor, who has not noticed my attention has wandered, finishes his story and lets out a booming laugh, and the spell is broken. I turn back to my brother and fake a laugh, though I haven't the faintest idea what he has just said.
Seconds later a fanfare sounds and my parents enter the ballroom, arm in arm, and all the guests quickly stand and drop into deep bows and curtseys. We all stay that way until the king and queen have seated themselves in the centre of the high table, then everyone resumes their seats. Thor stays where he was before while I quickly move to our parents' other side. For a few minutes everyone moves through the ritual formalities which must be observed at such a formal occasion, and then finally the feast really begins. Servants bring out hundreds of platters filled with delicious food and jugs of Asgard's finest wines and ales, and after Odin and Frigga raise their goblets to each other and drink deeply the rest of us are permitted to begin eating.
Even though the feast is fantastic, I am anxious for the meal to end so that I may go speak to Rika. The way her table is angled allows me to easily look at her throughout the meal; she and Fandral appear to be teasing Volstagg good-naturedly about the vast amount of food he is consuming. Rika laughs, her face alight with mirth, and she nudges Volstagg's arm. He shoots a fake glare at her and Fandral, which causes the pair of them to burst into laughter again.
As I watch, Rika shakes her head amusedly and picks up her goblet. She takes a deep drink and catches me gazing at her over the rim of the cup, upon which her cheeks inexplicably flush pink and she lowers her eyes to her plate. I don't have time to dwell on it, however, as my mother chooses that moment to speak to me.
"Do you see something interesting, my son?" she asks in a knowing voice, so quietly that only I can hear her.
I am horrified to feel my cheeks grow hot, and I am certain they have turned pink. I suppose I was a fool not to have realized that my mother would have figured out how I feel about Rika. She very likely has known for a long time. My eyes flick involuntarily back to Rika, who is now listening to Fandral tell a story with a small smile on her face.
When I look back at Frigga I find that she has followed my gaze and is watching Rika. "She is a remarkable young lady," my mother states, bringing her eyes back to meet mine.
I nod. "She truly is."
Frigga smiles softly. "You ought to tell her how you feel, Loki."
"I don't know that I can, Mother," I say, allowing my fear to colour my tone. My mother is able to bring the truth out of me like no other can.
"Of course you can," she replies, placing her hand on mine.
I shake my head. "What if she rejects me, and it ruins our friendship? Loving her and not having her is a bittersweet kind of torture; but I could not bear to lose her altogether."
Frigga holds my gaze and there is no judgement in her eyes, and her words are wise and loving. "That is no way to live, my son. Love is nothing if it is not shared." She gives my hand a gentle squeeze. "A mother desires nothing more than to see her children happy. And you deserve happiness, Loki."
I struggle uncharacteristically to form a response, but before I can find words Frigga looks to Rika once more, then back at me, and she speaks again.
"If Rika will make you happy, you owe it to yourself to try."
And with that my mother squeezes my hand one more time and turns back to speak to Odin, leaving me with my mind reeling.
...
The meal goes on for over three hours, with so many courses being served one after the other that I lose count. Granted, royal feasts are always long and extravagant, but this one is longer than most. By the time the last of the desserts are cleared away I am stuffed and getting restless, and I watch the servants take away the platters with relief. This means it is time for my favourite part of the evening - the ball. I've always loved dancing, and I'm good at it. The dancing that takes place at royal feasts is always some of the most enjoyable.
As the last of the plates are cleared from our table, Volstagg lets out a satisfied belch beside me. I look sharply at the big warrior, raising one eyebrow at him. He just shrugs. I shake my head and roll my eyes, but can't stop the corners of my mouth turning up in a small smile.
All around the ballroom people are beginning to get to their feet, and the noise level rises considerably now that we're not all busy eating. The musicians in the corner begin playing a traditional song of love and celebration which is normally played at weddings, but is equally appropriate for this occasion, and the guests stop conversing to watch the king and queen sweep out onto the dance floor. This is their dance, their moment; and no one else moves until the last notes of the song fade away and Odin and Frigga bow and curtsey to each other. Then all of us gathered in the ballroom break into applause. The musicians begin another song and other people join the dancing.
The tune being played is one I recognize; it is a lively foxtrot. I feel someone grasp my hand and turn my head to see Fandral make a little bow to me.
"Join me for a dance, my lady?"
I nod and smile, and he leads me out onto the dance floor where he immediately places his free hand on my waist and I put my hand on his shoulder. I've always enjoyed dancing with Fandral; he's a skilled dancer and makes a good partner. We move gracefully around the floor together, weaving in between the other dancing pairs.
As we dance I notice Fandral's eyes sweeping the room and I laugh, instantly understanding what he's doing; I have known the man for nearly a millennium, after all.
"Trying to decide which lovely lady to bestow your attention upon tonight?" I ask, grinning playfully.
Fandral looks down to meet my eyes and pretends to be offended, but his eyes are shining with mirth. "My dear Rika, you wound me with your accusations! Would I ever do such a thing?"
A decidedly unladylike snort of laughter escapes me. "Yes," I state simply, and Fandral chuckles.
"Perhaps you are right," he replies with a wink as the song ends. He bows and kisses my hand as I drop into a curtsey. Fandral leads me off the dance floor as is proper etiquette, then departs with an exaggerated wink and a nod in the direction of a group of giggling ladies. I wave him off with a laugh.
"Good evening, my lady," says a voice in my ear that makes my heart flutter. I manage to compose myself and turn around, curtseying low as I do so.
"Good evening, your highness," I say, a slightly teasing smile on my lips as I look up through my lashes at Loki. His own lips quirk up in an amused smile at my formal greeting. Normally none of our group ever bothers with such formalities, being such close friends; at an occasion such as this, however, it is expected that we behave accordingly.
Loki bows and takes my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles, and I feel as if my heart has leapt into my throat. Was I imagining it, or did he keep his lips on my skin a moment or two longer than necessary?
Then he releases my hand and straightens up from his bow, and I rise from my curtsey. My cheeks feel hot.
Loki notices. "Are you well, Rika? You look flushed," he says, concern lacing his voice.
I force a small laugh and wave my hand dismissively. "Yes, Loki, I am fine. A little too much of your mother's wine at dinner, I think."
He accepts the excuse without question; Frigga's wine is known throughout the realm for it's potency. A small smile crosses Loki's lips.
"You haven't had too much wine to share a dance with your favourite prince, I hope?"
"If Thor wishes to dance with me, he should ask me himself," I tease, grinning mischievously. Loki chuckles softly, taking my hand and leading me onto the dance floor. We begin to waltz.
"So," Loki says, looking down at me with his emerald eyes full of mischief, "Thor is your favourite prince now, is he?"
Silently praising the gods that the uncomfortable moment has passed and we have fallen back into our normal joking, I exaggeratedly pretend to be lovestruck. "Oh goodness yes, how could he not be? Thor is just so utterly handsome and amazing that no maiden stands a chance against his charm!"
Loki pretends to be hurt. "Ah, so I am doomed to be no more than the second prince, even in your eyes, my lady."
I look up at him sincerely, all trace of joking suddenly gone from my tone. "Never, Loki. You're always first with me." I'm shocked at my own boldness; where did that come from? Perhaps I really did have too much wine with dinner.
Loki appears genuinely surprised as well. It seems as if I have managed to render Loki Silvertongue momentarily speechless.
I was far too close to laying my heart out there, and thankfully his pause gives me time to recover. "You're my best friend, Loki. You know that."
...
I do my best to hide the disappointment in my eyes at Rika's words. Best friend...of course that's all I am to her. How could this beautiful, perfect creature ever love me the way I love her?
For a moment I wish to leave, but I cannot abandon Rika in the middle of a dance, and the feeling vanishes as quickly as it appeared. I focus on the feel of her in my arms as we swirl around the room and I become reluctant to ever let go.
"You are my best friend as well, Rika," I reply after a long pause, my words weighted with what I long to say but don't: I love you completely, so much that my heart feels as if it will burst with it.
She looks at me intently, and I realize that some of what I'm feeling must be showing in my face. I immediately smile at her to banish the tension and she appears satisfied.
The song ends, far too soon for my liking, and I am forced to step back from Rika and bow as the dance ends. I do not let go of her hand; I cannot keep myself from touching my lips to her knuckles again and, just as before, I let them linger there for a bit longer than is strictly necessary. Finally I straighten up and start to lead her from the dance floor, but Rika tightens her grip on my hand and pulls me back to her as the next song starts up.
"Another dance with my favourite prince," she says with a sweet smile, and I return to her willingly, placing my hand on her back and delighting in the feel of her.
...
My heart thuds hard in my chest when Loki kisses my hand again, and when he begins to leave the dance floor I suddenly can't bear the thought of letting him go yet. So I pull him back to me for another dance. He puts his arm around me again and I marvel at how very right it feels to be in his strong arms.
As he turns me around the floor in time to the music I lean into him and close my eyes contentedly; I can't seem to help myself. For a moment I imagine that he knows how I feel about him and has returned my feelings, and that we are dancing as romantic partners rather than friends.
Lost in the music, my musings, and the scent of him I almost think I imagine Loki tightening his arm around me, but seconds later I realize he actually did. He is holding me closer than is required for the dance, and I raise my eyes to meet his. I feel the breath knocked out of me at the look on his face; he is gazing at me with open longing, and though I expect him to hide it when I catch his gaze the expression remains. The look in his eyes seems to match the feelings in my own heart.
Could I really have been so blind? Is it possible that Loki might actually return my feelings?
My thoughts are suddenly in a tumult and my feet stumble through the well-practiced steps of the dance. I feel as if I can't breathe properly and I'm getting lost in the depths of Loki's green eyes. I barely notice when the music ends and Loki stills his movement, stopping me with him. I am vaguely aware of the other couples around us bowing and curtseying, but Loki and I just stand and stare into each other's eyes.
I'm not sure how much time has passed when Loki tears his gaze away from mine and lowers his head to murmur in my ear. "Take a walk with me?"
I nod mutely, not sure that I could form words even if I tried; Loki grasps my hand and places it in the crook of his arm, leading me across the ballroom and out through the huge glass doors to the balcony.
...
I gently place Rika's hand on my arm and lead her out onto the balcony. As we danced and she leaned into me I finally decided to take the advice of my mother and my brother and tell her how I feel, consequences be damned. My mother was right. This was no way to live. I am overwhelmed with love for Rika and I need her to know.
I lead Rika along the balcony, far enough away from the doors so that if anyone comes out here they won't be able to overhear us, but close enough so that they will be able to see we aren't doing anything unseemly. I would not wish to tarnish Rika's reputation.
Stopping by the railing I gently pull my arm from Rika's light grasp and turn to face her, taking both her hands in mine. Her beautiful face is turned up to me, her bright green eyes shining with what looks like hope. I am struck again by how lovely she is.
I only realize that I have been silent for a very long moment when Rika raises her eyebrows slightly and murmurs my name. "Loki?"
Hearing my name cross her soft pink lips at such a moment almost unravels me completely, and I close my eyes for a moment to compose my whirling thoughts. When I reopen them Rika is still gazing at me, though now she looks more curious. I decide I must just plunge ahead and hope my gift with words doesn't fail me now.
"Rika," I begin softly, "you are so beautiful." She blushes prettily and I smile. "There's something I should have told you long ago, my lady."
"Loki, I..."
I raise a finger to her lips. "Rika, please, allow me to finish." I take a deep breath. "I adore you, minn hjarta."
Before she has a chance to respond I lower my head and press my lips to hers, lightly and briefly, just a ghost of a kiss; then I pull back to gauge her reaction. Rika's lips are parted slightly and she looks a little stunned.
I feel as though my heart is being crushed. I took the chance, and now she's rejecting me, just as I always feared she would. I look away. "I'm sorry, Rika," I mumble and turn away.
...
I snap out of my daze as Loki begins to turn away from me, the hurt look in his eyes breaking my heart. I grab his arm and force him to look back at me; he gazes down at me for a second before I place my hands on his cheeks and pull his face down to mine, kissing him firmly.
Loki stiffens in surprise for a fraction of a second; then he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me against his chest, deepening the kiss. I feel like I could explode with happiness. Too soon, he pulls away and looks down at me, raw emotion on his face like I've never seen from him before.
"Rika?" he questions shakily. There is no need for him to say more; I know what he needs.
"Loki," I breathe, stroking his cheek gently. "I've wanted to do that for such a very long time. Minn kœrr, I fell for you long ago."
Loki smiles brighter than I've ever seen before, and gathers me in his arms again, hugging me tightly. We stand there under the light of the stars for several long moments just holding each other, until Loki places another tender kiss on my lips and, smiling at each other, we make our way back into the ballroom hand in hand.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please drop me a review and I will love you forever :) Also, the Old Norse translations (which are still probably not fully correct since I don't speak Old Norse) are: minn hjarta - my heart, and minn kœrr - my dear.