(Note: This story was first drafted in a Facebook chat, hence the "switches" in points of view. Thanks for reading! -Red and Ro)
A green light filled Andi's room. There was a flash, and Loki, the Trickster God of Asgard appeared. He looked around with a bemused expression on his face (as if to say "Where the hell am I?") The he noticed the woman lying on the bed.
"Is this Midgard?" he sneered.
"...Midgard...?" I sat halfway up in bed, only the light of the moon filtering in to illuminate this strange being. "Who are you?"
He shook his head at her ignorance. "Do you really not know me? How far the gods have fallen. I am Loki of Asgard. And I intend to rule this realm."
I gaped at him, processing all the information just thrown my way. "Loki...should I know you?" I shifted uncomfortably, putting as much distance twixt me and him as I could. "And you'll have to get in line. There are plenty of people who want to rule the world. Er. Midgard...?"
"Yes, Midgard. This pathetic place you call home. And as for the people who wish to rule the world, they are merely people." He raised himself up to his full height, the horns of his helmet scraping the ceiling with a wrenching noise. "I am a god, and you shall kneel before me." He pointed his staff towards her, the tip mere inches from her face.
My eyes nearly crossed looking at the staff, then narrowed as they flitted back up to him. I backed away and swung my legs over the bed, folding my arms. "There's only one God I care about, and...you're not him." My eyes flashed. "Get OUT of my bedroom."
Loki sighed. "Why is it everywhere I go, Thor has been there first?"
"...I know that name. He was here?"
Loki looked bitter, and said with a biting, sarcastic tone, "Of course you know that name. Everybody knows Thor, the God of Thunder, but does anyone ever know Loki? Ugh, I hate him."
My arms still crossed, I studied him."What, do you want a hug?"
He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. There was a pause. "Why would I want a hug from a mortal woman? I am not soft like my brother is."
I rolled my eyes. "Because you clearly have issues with security. And don't worry, I doubt anyone would mistake you for being "soft". " I shivered a little, being out from under the covers. "As if I'd give you a hug anyway. I'd just as soon 'kneel'."
"Do you shake from my presence? That's good." He paused briefly. "But I see you have spirit. It shall be fun to conquer you." There was a longer pause. "Oh, and if I wanted a hug, I'd take it."
I snorted. "I'd love to see you try." I looked wistfully at the bed, then back at Loki with a sigh. "Well if you're not going to leave, I'm going back to bed. Have fun with your -" a yawn interrupted my words, "- conquering, Loki of Asgard." I climbed into bed and rolled onto my side, facing away from him. I was still shaking, but now it was from anxiety, and something else I couldn't identify.
He sneered at her back. How dare anyone question his authority. And how dare a mortal woman challenge him.
He thought a moment. He didn't want to give into her tricks, but he also didn't want to back away from a challenge... He thought a moment more, then he smiled a devious smile. Perhaps he should change his tack. See what playing a "benevolent" god got him.
Another twitch of his lip and his armour was gone. In its stead was a pair of green silk pajamas and a robe. Slowly he walked over to the bed; softly, deftly he got into the bed with her. He trailed his hand over her arm, and then pulled her close to him. As he did so, he smelled her hair.
"I can play 'nice' you know."
I felt the bed sink as he climbed in behind me. I tensed, and breathing became difficult. Goosebumps were left in the wake of his touch.
"I think I'd rather kneel," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart was pounding at an alarming rate, and he was close enough for me to feel his breath on my neck.
"Oh, no. I'm beginning to like this." He paused, then moved his mouth closer to her neck and ear. " And I think you're beginning to like this too..."
I squirmed at the sensation of his lips so close to my earlobe, his hot breath vibrating in my ear like an earthquake. I arched into his solid body, my chest heaving, mind racing.
"I don't want to like this...please...let me kneel..."
"Was that a beg?" he laughed. "Where's all that spirit gone to? I liked it." He moved so that all of him was touching her: his legs parallel and touching hers, his other arm slipped under her to wrap around her, his head rested almost gently on her head/neck.
I let out a shaky breath, feeling heat rise in my cheeks...and other places. A spark had ignited... "Is this what you call a "hug" Loki of Asgard?" I cooed, trying to summon restraint and courage. Apparently you cannot have both concurrently. "Because on Midgard, this constitutes 'spooning'." I jerked my head away from his in mock annoyance.
"Spooning? I do not know that term." He nuzzled his head against hers, reminiscent of how a wolf would. "But if that's what this is, it's not altogether un-enjoyable." He played his fingers upon her hand.
A grin spread itself across my face in the shadows as a thought formed in my mind. "No, I suppose it isn't," I said softly, stalling, trying to ignore how delicately he ran his fingers across mine. I took a deep breath. "But here's something that is..." Blindly I jerked my right elbow backwards, into his chest, and tried to wriggle free.
The sharp point of her elbow jabbed into his chest, generating a surprising amount of pain. He let out a sharp grunt, and grabbed her other wrist with the hand that had been lying under her.
"No," he growled.
I chuckled darkly, a sound I didn't know I could make. "Loki of Asgard, I do believe you're hugging me now."
Loki blushed. He didn't know he could do that. This mortal woman had a strange effect on him. Perhaps Thor wasn't as much of an idiot as he had always thought.
"What strange definitions you mortals have for your words." He tried to keep his voice normal. Tried to keep it domineering. "A moment ago this same thing was 'spooning'. Do please explain to me exactly how this is different."
I allowed myself a smile. There was a change in his tone...had he noticed it himself? Had he noticed I tricked him? "Well..." I began, allowing my muscles to relax. I was a prisoner in his arms. "Why don't you show me what your definition of a hug is...Loki." I felt myself blushing profusely.
He felt her relaxing into him. He stiffened, tightening his grasp on her wrist. "I don't hug." He fought the urge to play with her hand again.
"You seemed anxious to do just that a few moments ago..." I said, trying to mask my disappointment. I squirmed in his grasp; his grip on my wrist was quite painful. I flexed my fingers to increase their blood flow, then tried to turn around in his arms to face him. "You're hurting me."
"Am I?" The question was said with a sneering tone, but his face betrayed him, if only for a moment. "How terribly rude of me." He relaxed his grip, but did not let go. Nor did he let her turn all the way around. Powerful as he was, he didn't know what seeing her full face in the moonlight would do.
He was resisting. Suddenly, all I wanted in the world, was to see his face. "Fine. Be a bastard about it." I snapped. Heat still pumped in my veins, but now it was a dangerous mix of desire and anger, both. "I wouldn't give you one anyway, like I said. You'd have to TAKE it."
Her anger did something to him. It... excited him? He didn't know what to do.
"FINE! I will!" With a deft movement, he turned her on to her back, and was now over her, managing to touch her only at her wrists, which he held with his hands, level with her face. His feet supported the rest of him. Even as he moved into that position, he knew he couldn't hold it long. The look upon his face was complete rage, quite possibly at himself. He knew it was a bad idea to look her in the eyes, but he did, and he froze.
My breaths came in short spurts...excited that he took the bait...excited that I could see his face...terrified, by the anger that resided there. After several seconds, my eyes began to burn from the lack of blinking. When I finally did, I decided not to reopen them. I swallowed hard.
Her laboured breathing excited him even further. Then she closed her eyes, and he felt almost lost. Soon his breathing began to match hers. He could feel his legs start to give way. He steeled himself. He could not give in. He could not give in to what he wanted.
I could feel the anger, the hatred, it was emanating off of him in waves...he was shaking with it...I had angered the wrong god, I saw that now...it was a game, and while I may have won the battle...I was going to lose the war. I felt his body getting closer to mine, the weight bearing down on me. Still I kept my eyes closed. I turned my head away, and said the only thing I could think of. It came out as a stolen breath...
"Loki."
She said his name and he melted. A terrified look upon his face, he knew not what to do. He wanted to collapse on top of her, breathe her in, caress her body, but that would mean she would win. He couldn't let that happen. He was Loki of Asgard. His stubbornness wouldn't allow it. He had to do something. Anything. But he couldn't think. Then suddenly he found himself saying words he didn't want to voice, in a tone softer than he ever wanted to use.
"What is your name?"
Everything stopped. He...wanted to know...my name? His tone had completely changed...maybe I could open my eyes. My chest was still heaving like I had run a mile, and I licked my lips, preparing to speak. "I am...Andi. Of Midgard," I said. And I opened my eyes.
As she said her name and opened her eyes, he blazed with a new fire inside, one he had never felt before. He mouthed her name. Andi. He paused for a moment that seemed like an eternity. He knew what he had to do. He had to hold her, to kiss her, and if she would let him, to bed her.
"NO!" He shouted, and flung himself off of her and moved to sit on the side of the bed, his back to her, head in his hands.
I let out a shriek as he screamed in my face. "GET OUT NOW!" I screamed at his back. I was shaking uncontrollably, taking in lungfuls of air in a vain attempt to calm myself down, yet instead, I felt as though a panic attack were beginning. I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, my back to him, clutching my chest, willing the painful tightness to ebb. WHY had he yelled at me like that? I looked over my shoulder at him; his head was still cradled in his hands, oblivious to all else.
"'No'...'no' what?" I stammered, shattering the silence. I wanted to see those eyes again. When I'd told him my name...not even a thousand flawless emeralds could match their luster.
Her scream injured him. He had hurt her and it pained him. He was close to tears. When she spoke again, two twin tears rolled silently from both his eyes.
"I can't... I can't..." He took a breath to try and steady himself. It didn't work. He lowered his head further.
My chest still hurt, my heart thundering inside my rib cage. It hurt worse when I heard the catch in his voice. That could only mean one thing. "Don't," I said, my hand over my heart. Don't cry, I willed him. Don't cry, I willed myself.
I turned around, saw his slight frame silhouetted in the moonlight as it fell across my bed. Why was I crying now? I wiped at the wetness on my cheeks, then slowly crawled over to where he sat.
He had hoped her voice would be a balm, that it would soothe him. It only made more tears roll down his face. Then he felt her move towards him. He wanted nothing more in the world than to turn to her. But he couldn't let her see him like this. He needed to tell her, to try and explain. Not that it would work.
"I can't..." he croaked out, "let you win." His voice was barely audible. "I can't let myself give into you."
He had begun to speak before I reached him. I didn't completely understand his words...but I understood the pain behind them. The conflict. I sat on my heels behind him, hands in my lap. "What if..." I began.
I slowly, gently brought my arms up, let my hands graze his shoulder blades, then slide up the rest of his back. He seemed to tense. I expected that. I didn't expect it to elicit tears from me. "What if I...let you..."win"?" I said in a shaky voice. I didn't even know what I meant, really. But in that moment, I knew what I wanted.
I wanted Loki of Asgard. To be in his arms. To have him look at me how he did when I told him my name. To see those blazing emerald orbs looking into mine. To...
He stiffened at her touch. Then he heard her voice. She was willing to let him win. And he realized it didn't matter if he won. What mattered was that he should stop her crying. He dried his face, then stood.
"I am Loki of Asgard. No one 'lets' me win." He turned and faced her, then suddenly kneeled before her. "I surrender to you." He looked into her tear-streamed face, hoping for a smile.
I looked at him askance, a tiny part of me wondering what he might be up to. But his eyes...there was nothing in them but sincerity. I would take his surrender. I felt myself blushing, and I bit my lip to fight back a wide grin.
"Your surrender is...accepted," I said softly, letting out a deep breath as I looked down into his face. A god. Kneeling. For...me. "But you have terms to agree to." Before he could bat an eye, I said "I want you to give me a - " ...I stopped. Did I want a hug? Or something else?
The tears had stopped. His eyes smiled, his mouth parted slightly. She blushed and he felt empowered - more than he ever had before. He waited for her request, but she didn't finish it. "Anything you wish is yours."
For the first time in his life, Loki, the god of lies and tricks, spoke truth with no hidden agenda.
I looked at him, still kneeling before me. "Please get up," I said softly. I didn't like being 'knelt before'. The heat was back in my cheeks, but embarrassment put it there. I lowered my head. "I want..." how could I possibly ask this? "A hug," I said in defeat. It was not what I truly wanted. I wanted a kiss...why couldn't I ask for it?
He rose at her request. As she turned a deeper shade of red, he felt that strange flame burn brighter within him. Then she asked for a hug. He had said she could have anything, and he meant it, but he didn't want to give her a hug.
He wanted to give her so much more than a hug.
What if he broke his word? Would she allow it? Why did he care so? And why did he just ask himself such a stupid question? He stopped his train of thought, and smiled at her.
"Anything you wish is yours..." He approached her, then paused, that familiar smile forming on his lips "But I am Loki of Asgard, and I do not hug."
Before she could say or do anything, he pulled her off of the bed, into his arms, and then kissed her with all his might.
