Author's note: Heya. This is my first ever fanfic. Been reading them for years. Only just started writing them. Go easy on me.
Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, The Avengers or Loki (Unfortunately).
The Fallen Prince.
Loki stood, brooding, in his glass cell, unmoving and unrepenting as he waited for the judgement for his actions. He had successfully destroyed half of Manhatten in one afternoon, only after almost completely destoring S.H.E.I.L.D Airship, and now he waited for the consequences of his actions. He didn't know what to expect. They wouldn't put him to death... They couldn't. Thor would never allow it, that he was sure of. And the Midgardians loved their precious Thor. As did the Asgardians. He didn't even have a race of his own. He was not of Asgard, nor was he of Jotemheim. He was a magic man with nothing. Not even a wife. Odin had made sure of that. Blessed Odin. The arsehole. Loki sighed in frustration, as the memories of the past, so bright and happy, floated back to him.
Loki was a young prince, a young 35, in no rush to settle down. He was more of the party hard, bed the women harder, fight the enemy hardest kind of a guy. His father was in no rush to abdicate the throne, and neither he, or Thor, were ready to take up the baton. He was renouned for his promiscuous ways, amongst the citizens of Asgard, the Nine realms, and the slave girls, alike. If he wanted them, he would have them. And when the women threw themselves at him, he was more than willing to pick them up, a few at a time, if needed be. No one said 'no' to a future king. Until that day.
He had been late in getting up, having no woman in his bed the night before, he had lost track of time, so he rung the bell to summon his slave girl, Anika. Perhaps she had an itch to scratch, Lord knew he had, and he could help her out. He waited a short moment before there was a soft knock at the bedchamber door. He rushed over and threw it open, only to find the young girl, no more than a young 20, standing there, shaking violently for her efforts. Her hair was a chocolate mess of ringlets and knots, someone had obvisously attempted to fix it, causing her pain and springing tears from her brown eyes, which had apparently prompted a hard slap across the cheek. Her clothes were old, faded and worn, definitely not the attire for the general servant, which told him that she was very low in the pecking order downstairs. Secured around her neck was a thick gold choker collar, something he had only seen on those his father deemed a threat. He could not see how this little lamb could be a threat to a fly, let alone Odin himself. He, of course, had the power to remove it, but his father had placed it on her for a reason. Her clothes hung off her blotted body, her arms very thin, her waist unbelieveably small, her stomach large for her figure. She was very pale and sickly. This girl was not Anika. But he had recognised her. Not from his bed, no, he had never taken a woman before her pride year. This woman had yet to reach hers. But he recognised her facial features, this woman was someone he had known.
"My... my... my Lord, you summoned m,m,m,m,me,' the slave girl stummered, her voice breaking with her shaking. He pitied the poor girl, this girl did not associate with people often, let alone, the royality for whom she worked for.
"Where is Anika?" he asked, wincing inwardly as he heard the harshness of his voice. The girl shrunk back from him.
"Anika, sh...sh...she is on stand down, my Lord, for b...b...bad mouthing the king in your honour. The maiden, sh...sh...she had no one else to send to your a...a...aid, my Lord. I.. I...I am sorry for being in your presence." She was sorry for being in his presence. What had happened to this woman? She had no reason to apologise. Most women fawn over him. Anika hated it when he took another woman to his bed. This girl was terrified, and he wanted to know why.
"What … what did you want from me, my lord?" she asked. Loki looked at the girl, he could not ask this young woman to give him what he really wanted. But he still needed to be dressed.
"I need assistance with dressing, little one," he said, in a quiet tone, stepping out of the way to let her past. She cautiously stepped in, her long, tattered skirt billowing behind her as she stepped. He knew he would have to sort his own trousers, there was no way he would let her do so. Not because he found her unattractive, the fact was quite the opposite; he found the young woman very attractive, much too thin for his liking but he could change that. He couldn't let her sort his trousers because she was an innocent, he could not allow this young woman to feel obliged to sate him.
She looked at him, her eyes full of fear, he could see she had been alone in a room with a man before, an event that had scarred her.
"I need my undershirt, my overcoat and leathers, little one," he instructed, trying to keep the harsh and instructive tones from his voice. He could use it with Anika, she was a play thing. But this scared, little lamb would not react to his harshness, she would shut down entirely.
"I will change into my day's trousers, then return to you," he said, drawing a slight nod from the girl before he turned and entered the closet.
He lowered his bed trousers, revealing his morning wood. Gods it would have been dealt with, if Anika was here. But then the little lamb in his bed chamber would not. He reached down and ran his hand over his long, thick member. At 13 and half inches, he was well endowed, the women gagged for him. He was the largest most had ever had. But suddenly none of them mattered, not even Anika, the only woman he had ever had more than once. Suddenly that decision was a mistake. He felt, was that shame? He felt shame after meeting a lowly slave girl, that had his heart yearning and head desperate to protect. He looked down at his hand running over his angry red cock and growled. He dropped it, he was actually masturbating in his closet over an innocent whilst said innocent was in his bed chamber. He grabbed his black leather trousers and dragged them on, before he walked back into his chambers. He looked around to find the girl had made his bed and straightened up the mess he had made the night before. His room was cleaner than it had been in a while, not even Anika cleaned it this well, but he suspected that was so she could come to his bed chamber more often. He saw the girl standing in front of a small mirror that hung on his wall. This did not suprise him, Anika and indeed all the women who came to his bed, checked themselves often before leaving. But he had not welcomed her to his bed, and her mouth was moving. Furthermore, thin vines of silver threaded themselves through the air from her eyes to the mirror. He watched in awe and shocked suprise as she finished remembering and the vines exited her eyes and wormed their way into his mirror. She sucked in a deep breath and dripped her hands to her sides, before turning with her hand on her stomach. She saw him, standing in the middle of the room, and instantly dropped to her knees.
"M...m...m..my lord, p...pp...p...please do not hurt me. I know I am not to do that," she started.
"Then, why did you?" His voice was crisp and dripping with autherity, he winced as it reached his own ears. The girl shook so violently in fear, he had to walk over to her and physically stop her.
"I will not hurt you, little one, but you must answer the question." She looked up at him, knelt down on one knee before her, and visably relaxed.
"No one believes me, my lord," she whispered. Believes what?
"And you think I will, little one, why?" he asked. In a reply, she touched his hand he had placed on her shoulder.
"Because you have touched me, and are yet to hurt me, my lord," she whispered.
With that, the memory faded and morphed into another.
He had had a bad day after the slave girl with no name had left his chamber. It was nothing like his father had told him off, or Thor had slept with his precious Anika. In fact, he had, but Loki had no care for it. He had been in a genernal foul mood all day. Perhaps because his morning wood had became afternoon wood and was now an all fucking day wood, and he had no chance to take care of it. Or perhaps he was just moody because he hdad yet to find out what the slave girl had done to his mirror. So when he stormed into his bed chamber, he threw over his overcoat and threw himself on his bed, unlacing the ties of his pants and pulling himself out of his confinds. He ran his hand up and down his length, imagining the slave girl kneeling on his bed beside him, a nervous hand gently touching his head. He groaned, imagining the woman growing in confidence and grasping his full gerth, running her hand up and down his length, gasping as she couldn't get her fingers to touch around his shaft. His hand flew faster on his cock, as the slave girl in his head wrapped her lips around his head. The slave girl who had used magic on his mirror. The slave girl who had kneel before him, as if ready to be beaten and forced to have sex with him. The girl who had been wearing a cancelling collar... His hand stopped. The girl had done magic, whilst wearing a cancelling collar, to tell him, specifically, something that no one else would believe. He sat up, looking at the mirror on the wall. The girl was powerful, more powerful than anyone would credit her for. He tucked himself back into his trousers as he stood and walked to the mirror. It looked like a normal mirror but as he touched it, his mind flew through images, memories that were not his.
A young girl smiling with a twenty year old Loki, the young girl's name Sygin, the bastard daughter of Eir and her lover. She laughed as Loki played jump rope with her, her laughter ringing around the court yard. Her gentle ringlets pulled back by a thin gold band. Her brown eyes full of life and charm as she watched him try and untangle himself from the rope. Loki was smiling as he untangled himself and Sygin squeeled as she bolted off, taking a whole 5 steps before he had caught her around the waist.
The image shifted to the same court yard in auturm, the leaves on the ivy a vibrant red, as he, aged 29, and a 14 year old Sygin sat on the bench on the side. The girl had blossumed into a very attractive young lady, her body was the envy of many goddesses in the court. Loki would have been lying if he said he did not think she was beautiful. She was crying. Her sister and Thor had been teasing her how she was going to die alone, because she had a crush on Loki. Loki had known about this crush for a while, and as a gentleman, had told her that when she reached her pride year and she still had feeling for him, he would happily ask for her hand. Thor and Sif really knew how to upset the delicate young goddess of love and truth. She was crying into his chest, petting her gentle ringlets as she sobbed. He held her as her sobs slowed to a stop, and he looked down at her as she looked up at him. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she still looked a beauty. She looked at his lips and leaned in, kissing him gently on the mouth. He sighed and felt his eyes shut as she pressed against him, running her fingers through his hair. She slowly pulled away and looked at him, panic and fear in her eyes, as the colour drained from her face. Tears started anew as she apologised and ran away, leaving him, as he recalled, stunned, in love and horny. He remembered that was the last time he had seen her, the girl he had fallen in love with, and he admitted in that moment, he used the other women as a destruction. He didn't even know where she had gone. But the memories did not cease.
The images shifted to the throne room, with Odin on his throne as Sygin, still red eyed and puffy from her kiss in the court yard, being held down by two guards. Odin was condeming her to a life of slavery for the crime of promiscuity. She screamed that she was a virgin. That she had never even seen another bare. But Odin ignored her. She screamed as the cancelling collar closed around her neck and the guards dragged her off down to the dungeons. The images changed to show Sygin being beaten by the enforcer in the darkest reaches of the prison. The door opened and a tall, muscluar guard entered, commanding the enforcer to leave. He did as he was told and the guard lowered so he was inches from her face. She was no more than 15 years old, telling Loki that this memory as just after her imprisonment. The guard laughed at her and called her a filthy whore, Sygin spat at him. Her greatest mistake. He picked her up by the hair, throwing her against the wall, forcing himself into her. She screamed in agony, her virginity being ripped from her faster than her life had been. The guard had no mercy, he fucked her hard and unrepenting. She wept as he used her for hours before dumping her on the floor to sob. She wept, screaming one name. His.
The scene changed, but stayed the same. Sygin, 17ish by this point, was pale and thin, he almost didn't recognise her. She was bloody, bloody mats in her hair, her dress, the same one she had kissed him in, the same she had been in prisoned in, destroyed. The guard was back, she didn't even look at him, which told him that this man had destroyed the joyous girl he loved. This poor excuse of a man had taken, and taken, and taken from Sygin. And he was back for more. This time with buddies. He didn't want to watch what happened next, but the slave girl wanted him to see as the guard and his buddies took turns to rape Sygin over and over.
When the image shifted, he was sure it was only the beginning of that event she had shown him. The image changed to when she was taken from the prison cell, but she was more than a slave to the slaves. She only ate when the slaves had leftovers. She cleaned up after the slaves and the slaves and guards used her as their fuck doll. The bubbly little girl that had forced him to play jump rope and the young lady who had kissed him with such passion were gone. The woman he saw wept every night, writing a jornal only she could produce, finding by accident she could use magic, in spite of the cancelling collar. She cried herself to sleep, his name falling from her lips silently. He thought that would be the end, but the slave girl had one more thing to show him.
It was this morning, the bell for Loki's room rung and Anika stood all too quickly to attend. The Maiden ordered her to sit back down, and looked around to see if there was another slave girl to attend. There was no one but a bloated young woman, sweeping up the broken glass of breakfast. The Maiden croaked at her, telling her to tend to the prince. The woman's eyes widened as Anika asked why she was sending the wench to service the prince when she was perfectly capable. The maiden threw her hand up and Anika's voice stopped, even as her mouth continued to move. Well, at least he wasn't the only one who thought she talked way too much. The image showed the slave girl's face as she smiled, pulling a small locket out of her bodice. A locket he recognised.
Loki stepped away from the mirror, seeing his room again, starting a little as he reorinatated himself. He couldn't believe it. No, no, no. Surely not. Not his little angel
"Ah, the beauty king is back with the universe." He turned at the voice to see Thor, leaning against the bed post. Loki saw red, and he snapped. He grabbed Thor, throwing him against the wall.
"Did you tell Father Sygin was promiscuous?" Loki ground out. Thor was confused.
"What the? Sygin? The little girl who was in love with you? Why would I do that, she was sent to Midgard to protect the children." Loki wasn't in the mood to be pissed around.
"You lie," he yelled, holding him tighter against the wall.
"Loki, I do not lie. You are the god of Lies, surely you can see that I am tell you the truth. She was sent to Midgard to protect the children from the illness." Loki took a deep breath and could see he believed what he was say to be true. He lowered his hands from his throat and took a step back.
"You are wrong. She was never sent to Midgard. She's been in the castle all these years. And I intend to make her my wife, Thor. I have found her and I will not lose her." Thor watched as Loki dressed himself and stormed out the door. What the hell was in that mirror? He walked over and touched it. The images begun in his head.
Soon after, a fight that had broken out in the servent's hall, with Loki the center of the attention. He successfully had killed four of the seven guards that had raped Sygin, mimed two and had castrated the last, the one that stolen his prize, and had proceded to destroy the servent's hall in a fit of rage trying to find Sygin. He had told a concenred Anika that she was nothing but a devious whore and if she dared to touch him again, he would slit her throat, and had blown in the west wing of the had joined his cause with such a fire in him, Loki had knew that he had seen Sygin's memories in the looking glass and together, they had stormed the cell. What they had found had infuriated Loki beyond contempt. Sygin had been hanging from her feet, blood dripping from her ears, nose and mouth. Thor had watched as Loki grabbed the young girl with such a tenderness that he hadn't known his brother to possess, as he magiced away the chains that had bound her. He had watched as he gently took the broken girl in his arms, as she were the love of his life and he stubbled back to his bed chamber. Thor had followed his brother, ordering his personal maidens to summon two nurses, watching as his brother became the man he had never thought he would become. He had watched as Loki placed the unconcencous girl in his bed, tucking her in, like one would a lover, before collapsing on the floor.
And yet here he was, waking in his bed. He shot up, turning to find Sygin sitting on the end of his bed, her leg crossed beneath her. She turned to his movement quickly, startled and she fell backwards. He leapt forward and grabbed her, pulling her into him, not thinking. She stiffened against him and started to shake. He realised just how terrified of being touched she truly was and quickly let her go again.
"I am sorry, my sweet," he whispered. She bowed her head.
"Did I wake you, my lord," She whipered back.
"Yes," he replied. She looked up at him, in terror.
"I am so very sorry, my lord, I had no intention..." she started her apology but he did not wish to hear it, so he did the one thing he had been dreaming about doing just moments before. He grabbed her gently in his arms and kissed her. She stiffened and gasped, but when she realised he meant her no harm, she relaxed into his arms and his lips, climbing into his lap. After a short time, he pulled back and watched as she very slowly opened her eyes, as if she was afraid it was a dream.
"You only woke me, because you were not in my bed, Gin." She looked up at him and smiled weakly.
"It has been a long time since someone has called me that," she said, looking down at his chest. He kissed her head.
"No more prisons, my sweet. No more names, and you only man you will have sex with, is me," He said, before leaning in to whisper in her ear, "And trust me when I say you will be treasured, as I make love to you, my beautiful girl."
He hadn't made love to her straight away. No, he waited. And he waited, and he waited. Making sure that she was 150% ready for him to took her. Not saying there was no tom-foolery, he was the God of Mischief, after all, and how else was she supposed to get used to his touch. He had discovered her time in prison had been sexually beneficial; she could break even the strongest of men, and perhaps turn a gay man straight with her ability to give head. She had apparently lost her gag reflex, which meant she happily took all of his 13 and a half inches. She wasn't against being with a woman either, as long as it was Loki, himself. Loki loved to watch her eat out a verison of himself in female form. She was open to sex with multiple partners, again if they were Loki, and she was the first and only person to see him in Jotën form. She was practically gagging for his blue cock in her mouth when she accidently walked in on him in the bath one morning, which had lead to the discovery of her unusual pleasurable pain kink. But he waited, as promised, until she had reached her pride year before he had sex, no, made love to her. It also happened to be their wedding night.
He had woken her late on the day of her 21st birthday. She had gotten into the habit of sleeping naked in the prison, and Loki really had no quarms about that one so it was the one habit he had not forced out of her. That day, like many days before it, her habit had played perfectly into Loki's plans. He slowly pulled the blankets down her body, the skin of his fingers grasing her body as they went. He gently rubbed in the inside of her thighs as he settled down between them, his face and lips millimetres from his most favourite haven. He stuck out his tongue and ran it along her pretty lips, dipping in to flick her button. He looked up at her sleeping form as he continued to flick her button with his tongue. She had gained weight in the nine months he had kept her, thank god, and her body was prefectly rounded in all the right places. Her hips were beautifully moulded, running up to her tiny (and healthy) waist, up to her chest, which had a prefect pair of big, juicy, round tits that he was most proud of, by the way. Her face had filled out to the face he remembered, no longer so gaunt and sunken in. She screwed up her face in her sleep, causing Loki to chuckle against her quim. She tossed about, running her hands down her face and onto her tits, where she grabbed them and squeezed, pushing the overflowing moulds together as he would get her to do when he fucked them. She played with the nipples before she put them both in one hand and ran the spare down to lace her finger in his hair, forcing him to go harder. She frowned and slowly opened her eye to look down between her legs. She sat up slightly, changing the angle slighty and forcing his tongue onto the place where she wanted it. He slipped a finger inside her and she went flying back into the bed. She groaned at the contact inside her and he chuckled, the vibrations running through her clit. She arched her back harshly and ripped his hair, making him bite down roughly. She screamed, not in pain, he had heard this noise from her before. It was his most favourite sound he had rung out of her yet, telling him she enjoyed what he was doing. Her legs folded up, tighting around his head, her toes running up his back before digging into his shoulder blades. He bit down again, sliding a second finger inside, causing her to sit up on her lower back. He looked up at her, his head encased by her entire body, the only body part touching the bed was her lower back. Her hair cascading down her back, the look on her face was pure ecstasy. She tightened herself around his plunging fingers and ran her hands over his bare back. He smiled against her and pushed a third finger inside, her reaction digging her fingernails deep into his back. She squealed and catterwailed as her orgasm ripped through her. Her body convulsed and her head fell forward, sheilding him from the world with her hair as he lapped up her juices. She did not move from her position, running her fingers through his hair as he slid up her body, her feet running to sit on the small of his back. His head still blanketed by her hair, he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them millimetre from her lips as she struggled to catch her breath.
"Happy birthday, my sweet."
He had not made love to her that morning, but had pulled her from the bed and dragged her through the castle down the boat house, where he set her in a boat and sailed them across the water to the hidden channel. He had taken them to Midgard, where they landed in the Scottish highlands.
The night there was crisp; the gentle breeze a mild temperture. The moonlight danced on the water of the loch, as Sygin looked around at the wonderous beauty. When she turned back to Loki, he was on his knee.
"My sweet, I have never believed I would be one to kneel before someone. And yet, even as a small child, I was powerless to you. I have loved you for most of your life, Sygin. Will you love me, with all my faults, and all my misgivings, for the rest of eternity?" She smiled at him, a single tear running down her face.
"Yes," she said, as she placed herself gently on his risen knee, kissing him with a love and passion he had never felt before. He placed a white gold ring, with a clear circullar cut diamond, on her left fourth finger, something he had seen the Midgardians do. He then helped her up and lead her to a small hut on the banks of the loch, nestled between the crystal water and dark woodlands. He wanted to be gentle with her, treat her as the precious woman she was born to be. Tonight, the sex would mean something. It would change their lives forever; no going back, she would become his wife and he, her husband. And he had never been more sure of something in his life. He would bind himself to her and her to him, so that no one, not even Odin himself, could truly seperate them. Tonight, they would pledge to Var, the goddess of marriage oaths, and there would be no undoing their bond. He grabbed the knife from it's sheath and grabbed her hand, making a clean slice across the palm. He disappeared their clothes as he did the same to his mirroring hand. He placed his bleeding hand on her, pulling her close to him as he lowered her to the bed. He spoke in celtic the marital vows, pledging to Var to protect and honour his woman, and to love her beyond his dying breath. She placed her hand on his face as she made her own pledge, in celtic, to Var to love and honour her man with all of his faults and misgivings, to love him for the whole of eternity, beyond her dying breath. He pulled one of her legs up to his waist to have her lock them there and he slowly entered her tight body. He hissed as he realised she had yet taken a man remotely close to his size and that she must have been in a great dealing of pain. He started to pull out but she pushed him back in, biting her lip and shaking her head as she struggled to adjust to his girth. He continued to slide in as far as she could take him before sighing and kissing her linked fingers. He said that in the face of Var he proclaimed his love and devotion to his woman by partaking in the rawest form of love. She gasped as he seemed to grow inside her, before making the same pledge, groaning and sighing every few word. Then he leaned to in and kissed her, and a searing white light extended from their linked hands, as he begun to move with in her. The love making was delicate, only soft, gentle movements from his hips as she begun to move with him. His canine teeth elongated and he pulled back from the kiss to see hers had also. In that moment, he bent his head down into the crock of her neck and bit her hard, breaking the skin. He felt her do the same and the surge of power and energy to past between them was intoxicating. Odin was right in worrying about her magicial strength; this glorious woman could put many of the ruling gods to shame. Loki could now draw strength from his wife, knowing she could do the same from him, wanting her to draw strength from him. He looked at her hand as it pulled his hand from her thigh and up to her face. His hand was blue. In the release of his powers, he had changed forms. She didn't seem to mind, however, because the moment she opened her eyes to look up at him, she let go. The strength and energy from her orgasm flowed through her into his body and directly to his cock, buried deep inside her convulsing cunt. He tried to let her finish before letting go himself, but the way her cunt clung to him was too much and he felt himself shoot strong load after strong load of seed into her cunt. She colapsed into the bed and he colapsed onto her as they both tried to catch their breath. Loki tried to remove himself from her, ashamed he had lost control and slipped into his Jotën form, but she stopped him, holding him tight between her legs.
"Don't. Don't hide from me, Loki. I love your blue form, and I love that you were you when you made love to me," she said, running one hand over his face into his hair, whilst running the other over the contours of his blue, runed back.
"I can hurt you, my sweet," he whispered back, nipping at her nose.
"Only if I let you. We bonded, did we not,"she whispered back, giggling. He smiled down at her, only she could see the bright in the dark. She loved him, all of him, and she wasn't afraid of him at all. For the first time, Loki felt normal. He was married, with a beautiful wife, who loved his most shamed flaw. For one, he was just a man, in love with a woman, who loved all of him in return. For once, life was sweet.
But it didn't last long. A short 18 months later, Sygin discovered she was pregnant. With the amount of sex they were having, it had only been a matter of time before she fell pregnant. They were so excited that they didn't leave their room for a week, much less donned clothing. Loki had a feeling his father wouldn't share their enthusism, he had yet to warm to the idea Loki had married out of his engagement to the very goddess he had pledged loyalty to his wife. Odin had no idea he had married the very woman he had tried to stop him from marrying, and he knew Odin would be furious when he discovered the truth. Of course, Sygin's powers made her uncomfortable with the whole idea but the girl who had once suffered greatly at the All-Father's hand, understood Loki's need for secrecy. They waited to tell Fregga about Sygin and the babe, and Fregga, though excited, told them they would be alone against the wrath of Odin. Thor knew, and had promised his hammer in a fight. But she had neglected to tell her mother and sister about her marriage and child. She was 8 months pregnant when Odin discovered just who Loki had married.
The whole castle reverbarated with his fury, as she sat on the balcony outside Loki's window. That was where Loki had found her, set on the chasë, a large book in her hands. He was terrified, but he looked at his wife, so calm with her hand petting her large stomach, looking a perfect image in the sapphire blue gown, she had bought in the market to match her true form. She looked up at him with a smile, and he felt his whole body relax. How had he found this beauty? She was so calm, even in the most awful situations, she was calm. Her time in the prisons had shown her the harshest of lives, so now, with Loki's hand, nothing looked scary to her. He walked over to her, kneeling before her, placing his hand on her kicking stomach.
"I see you told Odin the truth, my love," she said. He felt a tear spring from his eye and he leaned forward, hiding his weakness from his strong wife in her breast. She cooed and placed her hands over his head and body, petting his hair. He knew she felt his fear, just he felt her worry and soothing calm, with a slow rising panic starting to bubble as she tried to stomp it out. He looked up at her, in awe, just as he had many times before. She smiled down at him, running her hand over his cheek, a silent request to show her his true form. He let himself go, she smiled a little brighter.
"There is my husband," she whispered, continuing to caress his face. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, her body giving an involentery shiver.
"He is so angry, my love. He has summons you to him, I shudder to think what he will to you, Sygin. I couldn't live with myself if..." She cut him off.
"Do not say things like that, Loki," she said, forcing his head up to look her in the eye. She smiled as she looked into his blood red eyes, tracing the bridge of his nose with her fingertips. He closed his eyes, relishing her soft touch against his cold, hard skin. "Please, my love, do not say things like that. I am afraid of your father to begin with. I need you to be strong. I need you to be my husband."
He looked at her, her fears starting to show, with a single tear. He wanted to run. Run away and hide her away from his father, from the harsh world. To protect her from everybody who wished to do her harm. That was his job; it was his responsibility to treat her as the princess she was and defend her. Running was the quickest opinion. But she was not one to run. That was one of the things that had endeared her to him; the little girl, no older than 5, kicking his guard in the shin for pushing a other little girl who had hugged her prince. The small child, the smallest in the crowd, physically pushed her way through the crowd, going her the girls aid before turning and kicking as hard as she could, connecting with his shin, the only body part she could reach. He smiled at the memory, as he looked up at the version that was his wife, the protector. He placed his hand on her cheek, pulling his Jotën form back as he pulled her lips down to his and her hand to his heart, moments before his personal guard stepped into his bed chamber, followed by six of Odin's guard. He ignored them, knowing his guard would stop them before they reached the balcony, as he continued to kiss his wife. He made no effort to move into a more domanant positioning; his wife was never a subject, she was never lesser than him, and he didn't care if the guard saw him submit to her. She truly was the only being he would kneel to. After a short moment, he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead up to hers, his hand holding her in place.
"No more hiding, my love," she whispered, as he rubbed her cheek with his thumb. Even at this moment, with guards ready to take her away, just as they had 9 years earlier, she swollowed her fear and had showed no sense of the panic he felt coursing through her veins. He truly loved her.
"No more hiding, my beautiful wife," he whispered in return. He kissed her again, with all the passion and love he felt for her. The kiss was filled with all the thing that had been left unsaid, both of them believing they had an eternity to be with each other to say them, and a lifetime to touch each other. They kissed each other, succeeding in making the royal guard uncomfortable, and Loki's guard chuckle silently, as he had heard (and seen) so much more than their tame display of affection. How did they think the young goddess got into her current state? It certainly wasn't by playing Parchizzi. Loki pulled back again, kissing her nose.
"Together?"
"Always," was her whispered reply. He kissed her lips again, a small peck, before he stood, holding his hands out for his beauty to hold. She grabbed them and pulled herself up, her body protesting under the weight of carrying two beings.
Not once had she looked at the guard. Until then. She turned to face her entourage, Loki's guard bowing to her.
"I am so sorry, milady. I tried to stop them," he said, knowing if it hadn't been for her, his lord would have ripped him a new one by that point. She hushed him, placing a gentle finger on his lips as Loki stood behind to hold her steady, the urge to protect her doubled the moment he had discovered she was with child. She smiled.
"Not your fault, dear. It is not your fault," she said, placing her hand on his cheek. He bowed his head to her.
"Of course, milady," he said, stepping around to her other side. It was his every intention to walk his lord and lady to the court. Loki grabbed her hand and secured her arm in his, her fingers lacing in his, the only sign she gave of her nerves.
"Shall we?" she called, her voice strong. The guards shuffled in unison as they shifted in their awkwardness to lead the young couple to their fate. They walked down the hall, three guards either side of the youngest prince and his pregnant wife.
They passed a group of slave girls, Anika among then. She rushed forward and pulled Loki to a stop.
"Whatever happens, my lord, I am here for you," she whispered in his ear, so Sygin couldn't hear. Pointless, really, as she could feel the disgust and anger rolling through him anyway.
"What makes you think that I would welcome you to my bed, after this, whore," Loki ground out at her, the poor girl thrown aback by his harsh words.
"Loki, that was not called for," Sygin said, pushing her large bump between her husband and the woman. Her arm accidently brushed the woman's bare arm, and everything the woman had seen flowed through her. She saw the woman's childhood and her work at the castle. She saw her sexacapades with the male staff and Thor, but what else she saw, made her skin crawl. She saw a younger verison of her husband, having sex with this woman. Not making love to her as he would with Sygin, tenderly and filled with kindness. No, there was no love in his eyes; for him this woman was merely a means to an ends. A woman willing to spread her legs when he called. To Loki, Anika was a whore. But Anika, she loved him. Not in love with him, she was in love with the feeling of being needed by a beautiful man, a prince to boot. But she was loved him like a woman loved the man she gifted her virginity. The emotions she felt and the things she saw from this woman made her mentally shudder. Loki felt her sudden rush of emotions and her shudder and gently squeezed the hand he held. A guard pulled Anika away from the young prince, the poor girl stricken by his words, letting her companions enevlope her back into the group. Loki was visibly shaking with fits of his anger, and Sygin, being the angel that she was, leaned up, pressing her pregnant belly into him, causing him to place a protective hand over it, and she kissed him under his ear.
"Calm yourself, my love," she whispered, as she forced a wave of calm into him. If his senses hadn't been so heightened he wouldn't have felt anything other than the overwelming calm she was raidiating, but he dug a little deeper and felt the fear she was stamping out.
"Together?"she asked, looking into his eyes.
"Always," he replied, repeating her earlier reply. She repositioned herself beside him and together, they continued on their path to the court.
"It was her,"she said, looking dead ahead, making her words a statement, not a question. He looked down at her as they walked around the bend to the court. "She told Odin about us. And me, nine years ago. She is a personification of lies." Not once did she look at him, she didn't need to ask, she already knew the truth. Loki felt the jealousy and hatred that rolled through his wife. She was furious that the All-Father had been manipulated into believing such an outragous lie. She was jealous of the slave girl who had been so close to the man she had loved for so long, whilst she was left to the abuse in the prisons. She was angry that Loki had believed the lie that she had been sent away. But most of all, she was filled with hatred towards the fates that had ruined her entire life. And in spite of this, she didn't let any of this hormonal swell of emotion show on her face.
"Enough," he said, pulling her to a holt outside the grand door of the court. He turned her to face him, but she refused to look at him. He gently pulled her chin around to look at him, her eyes reluctantly looking up at him, showing him the hurt and pain in their depths. "No more of this, Gin. Anika is nothing to me. She was nothing more than a play thing to me. She was a means to an ends when she chose to warm Thor's bed as well. She was nothing to me when you re-entered my life. She was never you. And she was dead to me the moment I discovered the truth about her betrayal," Loki said, placing her hand over his heart.
"If you say so," she replied in a hushed tone, her disbelief evident. He leaned down and placed his forehead to hers, causing her to look up at her.
"I do," he whispered, kissing her lips before the doors opened. They seperated to watch, not moving to please the king, Sygin grateful that her husband was not afraid to be seen with her, especially now. They saw the room was empty, save for the four figures, standing beside the fifth, who sat on the throne. To the left of the throne was Fregga and Thor, each looking mildly worried about the fate that laid before the young couple. To the right, was Eir and Sif, both of whom were blank faced, not so much as a welcoming smile graced their faces as they waited for the smitten couple to enter the room. The occupant of the throne, Odin himself, looked thunderous. Loki looked at his wife, who took a deep breath, stood up as straight as their baby would let her, shoulders back, head held high, and turned to enter the room. Loki was in awe, at his wife, as he watched her wuddled up the room.
"Loki Odinson, what do you have to say for yourself," Odin bellowed. Loki stepped in front of his wife, protectively as he answered.
"I married the woman I have loved for years. The only crime I have committed is marrying against the wishes of the king. I ended my betrothal; Var knew I was to marry Sygin, before even I did. She would not have blessed us the eternity together if it were not fated." Odin slammed his staff into the floor.
"You married a criminal, sentenced to death for her crimes," he bloomed.
"She did not committ the crimes you have comdemned her for. She was fourteen, Father. The only action of premiscuity she had preformed was a simple kiss. With me. You have been duked into believing she has committed a crime she is innocent of. What you premitted her to suffer, has destroyed the woman she was meant to become."Loki yelled back, his anger bubbling over. Sygin placed a soothing hand on his shoulder and laced the fingers of her other into his. He felt a soothing calm, being forced into him, she was unbelievable calm for this situation.
"She is lying to you, I have a witness who has shown the truth," Odin yelled in reply.
"It is a physically impossiblity for my wife to be lying. She is the goddess of truth. She does not have the ability to lie," Loki ground out, trying not to yell at the man on the throne, for Sygin.
"She deserved what she suffered," Odin replied.
And with that comment, Loki snapped, lurching himself at Odin. He got to the top of the stairs, before he was hit with Odin's staff, being thrown sideways into a pillar beside Thor and Fregga. The wind was knocked from his lungs and a ripping pain torn through his back. He looked up at his wife, with Odin approaching her, his staff raised and glowing, as she was hunched over in pain, struggling to suck breath into her lung. Fear washed of him as he meantally beat himself up. How could he be so stupid, lossing himself in rage when his wife, his beautiful, child-bearing wife, had no ability to seal herself off from his emotions, his pain? How could he let himself lose control, instead of protecting her, as he had promised on their wedding night. He struggled to standing, only managing to get to his knees, before the surge of pain forced him to stop. He watched as his father started to bring his staff down to drive it through her back. Fregga broke ranks and rushed towards her husband, placing her hand on his to stay it.
"If you kill her, you will kill Loki. They are bonded, with Var's blessing. Var allowed them to wed, because she saw in their hearts that they are meant to be with one another, Var could tell you this," she said to her raging husband. Sygin continued to wheeze, gasping for air, fear and panic clearly written in her eyes. Odin lowered his his staff and Fregga let out a breathe; she was relieved that her youngest son would have the chance to rise her grandchild. She turned and took the few steps to rejoin her blonde son. But Odin hadn't finished. He grabbed Sygin's round stomach, his hand glowing, and she screamed, the magic lifting her off the floor.
"No," Loki bellowed, as the pain ripped through him and he forced himself to stand, stumbling to wife's aid. Thor threw himself at his distressed brother, catching him rolled the waist as the dark haired god fought with the little strength he had to get to his bride. Sygin hung suspended 3 feet from the stone floor as Odin literally tore the babe from her womb, the child magically being pulled through her skin and gown, floating towards the king. He did not cry, did not make a sound, he just looked around at his floating mother, then his struggling father, and finally at the king. Sygin was dropped to the floor as the king took the child in his arms.
Loki saw the boy, who was the spitting image of his mother as he watched his wife watch from her position on the floor, pain radiating through her, as the king pick up his forgotten staff and gently touched it to the baby boy. The babe combusted into flames in his arms, and both Loki and Sygin screamed in an agonising serranade, watching helplessly as their beautiful babe burned. In the child had gone, Odin was yet to be satisfied and he decided the loss of the child would not be punishment enough. They would just go and create another life, and Loki needed to learn that defying him was a very bad idea. Odin touched Sygin's tear-stained face. Her eye's filled with terror and Loki felt the panic wash over him like a tidal wave.
"No, please, my liege. I will not fall pregnant again, I swear, just do not..." She started to beg, knowing her fate the second he touched her. It had been a simple touch, but it had his wife weeping more violently than he had ever seen. Odin turned to walk away, but she grabbed his hand, and within seconds, his face paled and dread filled his eyes. She dropped her hand, as he paused for a second, before straightening his shoulders and leaving. Eir and Sif left, following their king, neither looking at their flesh and blood in agony on the floor. Fregga rushed over to her sons as she checked him as a mother should. The royal guard left, leaving Loki's personal guard alone, who was the only being to check on his master's wife, crumpled on the floor. Loki fought against his brother, trying to get free.
"Let him go, Thor," Fregga told her eldest, and instantly his arms loosened. Loki pushed away from his brother and past his mother as he staggered to his wife, checking her from any damage.
"Loki, stop," she gasped, her voice filled with tears. Loki stopped instantly, knowing something was seriously wrong. "Loki, he is removing my memories. He is taking me away. He is punishing you for disobeying him and marrying me. He is making me disappear." The tears were flowing freely as she realised that it would be the last time she would see her husband. Loki growled and pulled her into him, murderous over what the fates had allowed.
"Do not make me leave, Loki. I want to stay, with you. I love you. Please do not make me leave,"she begged. He petted the side of her face as she cryed.
"You can stay with me, my love. I want you to stay with me. I would never want you anywhere else than by my side. I want you here, my love. You can stay. You can always stay." He kissed her head, tears flowing freely from his own eyes, and he held on to her for dear life.
"I do not want to go," she said, her voice getting sleepier as she said each word.
"No, no, no, darling, stay with me. Stay here with me,"he said, gently tapping her face.
Fregga and Thor watched in awe at the display of affection the young prince showed this broken woman. They had never seen him so happy, or sad, or desperate for someone to stay, and it broke Fregga's heart that he was being punished for his happiness. They had never seen Loki as basically human as he was then, with a beautiful young woman in his arms, he was nothing more than the man she had hoped he would become.
"I want you, Loki,"she whispered, as she lapsed into sleep. He shook his head in disbelief as he pulled her lips to his. He kissed her as her body went limp and she started to disappear from his arms. He kissed her until she was gone and he was kissing nothing but air. Only then did he opened his eyes, staring down at the empty space his wife had previously occupied, tears streaming down his face. His wife, his beautiful, angelic, carefree wife, was gone, lost to him forever. Never to warm his bed again. Never to laugh at his seriousness again. Never to tell him he was perfectly imperfect. He was alone. Again. Fregga rushed forward to comfort her son, but his face hardened and he stood, shrugging off his mother as he walked out of the room, with his personal guard in tow.
He had remembered that moment frequently, seeing it over and over in his head every night since. Shortly after, he didn't know how long, Fregga had entered his room, explaining the extent of the punishment. She had been placed somewhere in the cosmos, in another realm, out of his reach, as both him and Heimdell were blind to her. She was given everything to start over; money, clothes, an identity. She would know she was married, and that she was not human, Odin could not underdo Var's bond or her birth-magic, but she would not remember her true race or who her husband was. Her loyalty to her husband would be everlasting; the bond and the love they had forged were part of an unwritten magical law that knew no distances or time. She would yearn eternally for her husband, never feeling the need to stray to another man. Every year, at the moment she was cursed, she would blackout, her mind trying to fight the curse; if she was lucky, over time she would start to remember things. She would eventually have use of all her powers as Odin's curse worn on but she would be a new goddess all over again, only a very select few. Fregga also told him that she had instructed her to keep a journal about her day, so she could remember. She told him that she didn't want for this to happen; she had finally got her son back, he was happy and his wife was having a baby. Sygin was strong, very powerful, and her recent past made her very volitle, and Odin was threatened by her. She didn't know why but he was. Loki remained where he had been when his mother entered, on his bed, on her side of the bed, looking at the ceiling, as his mother sighed and left his room. He remained in that very spot for six month period, not eating, nor releaving himself, nor relating to any being, tears slowly trickling down his face the only sign that he was still alive. And when he did eventually rise from his mourning, a young personification blood flowed red.
He had no regrets over killing Anika; she had ruined his beautiful wife and destroyed his life, and deserved what she had received as punishment. Just as he had no regrets with letting the Jotëns' into Asgard or attacking the Midgardian city of Manhatten. He would do it all again and ten fold, to show Asgard he had not forgiven 'Daddy' as they all believed. He wanted revenge for his wife, for his unborn babe, for the life he should have lived. He wanted his wife and he had made a vow, all those years ago, to protect her, to save her, to find her no matter what the cost. So be it if a few Midgardians died; they were complaining about an over-population anyway, so strictly speaking, he was doing a cosmic duty. So long as he found his wife in the end, he would destroy the cosmos in it's entirity to do so. Sygin would never approve of this course of action, but he didn't care. If she had been with him, he wouldn't have done any of the things he had. And seven hundred years was a long time to wait for a curse to wore off, when a man has a seven hundred year old boner with a drop-dead gorgeous wife out there somewhere in the nine realms, he tends to get a little touchy over the little things. It was amazing what wouldn't have happened if he could just fuck his wife. Whenever, and wherever he wanted. Granted, he may or may not have taken his daddy-issues out on Thor, but the big blonde oaf had held him back from saving his wife, so to him, Thor still owed him one. Hundred. Thousand. And for now, as he stood in the glass cell, he was, as brief as it would be, happy. Not ten day long sexcapade on every surface of the west wing in the palace (and when he got his wife back, the marathon would begin) happy, but it was enough. Sure, he had caught the eye of the Midgardians, big whoop. But he, now, had the attention of the one man he blamed for this epic fuck-up, this ejaculation of rage. Odin, himself.
He heard the prison door open and he turned to watch as S.H.E.I.L.D guards marched in. They, were walking two by two, sheilding (quite ironically) the agent that had been assigned to assess him from his view. The guards rounded the corner and holted and he moved to get a proper look at the agent, who was continuing on their path to his cell. The agent was short, and obvisously female, her curves bound nicely in her tight attire. Her hair short, not too different from Agent Rominoff's cut, but was a familiar chocolate brown, with a beautiful barrel curl. Her face was sheilded by a pair of black sunglasses; it was dark outside, he knew, so the glasses were merely to hide her features. She wore a pair of tight black jeans on her shapely legs with a pair of black leather over-the-knee stillettoed boots, the leather groaning in a delicous manner as she mounted the stairs. Her torso was bound in a beautiful brown leather jacket with an up-right collar, and her hands gloved with brown leather gloves. She turned to face to her entourage, who had yet to turn and leave, giving him the perfect chance to get a good look at her arse, which was oddly familiar. She shooed them away and watched as they left, before turning again and using her security card to open the cell. She entered the cell, walking with a familiar sway in her hips as she headed over to the bench that was what the agency expected him to sleep on. He had caught a slight glimpse of her bound breasts before she granted him unlimited access to her arse yet again as she pulled off her gloves and bent over to place them on the bench. He had never felt the need to perv on a female since his wife had been taken, but he also never seen an arse that had him drooling like his wife's. She unzipped her jacket and let it drop from her shoulders, briefly obscuring his view, but revealed she was wearing a white t-shirt underneath, tucked into her high-waisted jeans. This woman's figure was outstanding, her hips were wide, and her waist tiny, just how he liked his women. She slowly turned on her heel to face him, her breasts, on the large size, strained against her shirt, a large S.H.E.I.L.D logo printed across her front. His cock hardened, as he stared. He knew those breasts, his body would recognise them anywhere. And that arse, it all made sense. Seeing them for the first time in seven hundred years nearly made him come in his pants. And now that he knew who this agent was, he was literally gagging for her to remove her sunnies, knowing exactly what they hid. She slowly reached up and pulled them off, obvisously using her sexuality to make him weak, which was working, but not for the reasons she thought. She placed them on the top of her head, using them to pull her hair back, and revealed her unusually dark blue eyes.
"Hello, Loki, I am Agent Sygin Kent. I am here to determine the truth, to get you the best course of justice."