note: Loki is intersex and I will be referring to them using the pronouns ey/em/eir. It's a rough transition for most people but I promise it will be smoother reading as it goes along! I will update with more chapters if this is received well.
Thor knows why Laufey agreed to the marriage, he knows it right when he looks at his betrothed - starved and trembling slightly as ey takes eir place, standing in front of Thor and looking at him with a gaze that doesn't quite register. Everything about Loki is vague, save for the violent red paint decorating eir stomach. Thor means to ask about it, but doesn't have time before the ceremony starts. It's all a blur - their vows, the ribbon, the dowry, the gifts, and Frigga whisking Loki away with murmurs of comfort and 'we really must get you cleaned up'.
.
Loki sits beside Frigga, eyeing the meat on eir plate with pupils blown so wide the reds aren't even visible. The paint from eir stomach is gone. Only when Loki picks up a leg of meat does Thor pull Frigga aside for questioning about his spouse, hidden in one of the far corners of the dining hall. What is wrong with em? What was all the fuss about? And Frigga answers with soft words about how Laufey had sent Loki on a walk of shame.
The runes depicted three of Loki's previous children, conceived by accident from the carnage of an immortal heart. The runes identified Loki as a whore and a monster-bearer to whoever could read them. Thor is appalled. By Loki's children or Laufey's actions, he does not know. Frigga advises against speaking of it to em. "Marriage is a very delicate thing, my son."
Loki is a very delicate thing, as well.
.
Loki is acting drunk when Thor and Frigga return, stomach visibly distended from the amount of food ey had eaten in such a short amount of time, cheeks dusted dark indigo. Ey gets up, looking hazily at Thor and stepping towards em. Thor is very aware of how the silk between Loki's legs rubs against eir thighs, and the coolness of Loki's hands as ey grabs Thor to steady emself. Eir accent is increasingly thick now, "Where am I to sleep tonight?"
So Thor shows em to their wedding chambers. There's a bed draped in sheets made of silk, almost identical to Loki's loincloth. Thor watches as Loki sheds the gold of eir horns and wrists, he notes the three silver piercings that trail up from Loki's bellybutton. He imagines his tongue there.
Loki's cheeks are darker now, and Thor fears his thoughts are being read. Loki is a sorcerer, after all.
He leaves hastily.
.
No one asks how Loki is, and Thor doubts they even care. He eats alongside his fellow warriors, and despite this being a celebration of marriage, of joining kingdoms - the frost giants have left. Thor does not doubt the validity of the peace between their realms, and he does not blame them for leaving. The room quickly becomes sticky with sweat and mead, and Thor can only imagine how uncomfortable Loki would be if ey were still here.
Thor dances with Sif, and she places a kiss upon his cheek. Thor wants to ask for another. Her lips invite him, but he is reminded of Loki now, sick and alone, and he does not venture farther.
.
Loki is on the edge of the bed when Thor returns, black hair spilled out like oil, stark and beautiful against the sheets. But ey is asleep, and Thor does his best not to disturb em as he sheds his wedding garb and finally rests his head against the soft pillows. It is hard to fall asleep when Loki starts twitching and shifting. Thor thinks he can ignore it, but it progresses to soft whimpering and growling, and Thor knows he has to do something.
He sits up and extends a hand to touch Loki's shoulder, the word 'husband' threatens to form on his lips, but he knows it's not right. Their languages did not translate as cleanly as they needed to, as Thor desperately needed them to.
"Loki, what is the ma-"
"Do not touch me." the words hit Thor like a whip, and he is unable to respond, at least for a short while.
"I only wish to know what troubles you."
Loki's back is to him, so he cannot detect a response aside from the muscles in eir back relaxing and bunching sporadically. A low rumble pours from Loki as ey sits up, and Thor is frozen, trapped by Loki's red gaze. It is glazed, but full of something Thor has seen on many occasions - in others, and in himself. Lust.
.
Loki mewls like a cat in heat, and rides Thor's hand, pressing it hard between eir legs with eir hand. Thor kisses em softly and open-mouthed, and he's grateful that Loki doesn't bite down on his tongue with dagger-like teeth. Loki is breathing frost into his lungs, arms draped heavily around Thor's shoulders. Ey isn't coherent, and Thor's cock twitches when 'beloved, beloved' tumbles from Loki's mouth and into his.
Loki has no reason to claim Thor as eir beloved. They hardly know each other. For some reason this sets a fire alight in Thor's chest that fuels the thunder outside, and Loki responds with a loud purr. Eir heat had attacked em so suddenly, Thor couldn't help but wonder how long it had been put off by hunger. Days? Weeks? Months?
Thor's hand is slick when Loki lets go of it in favor of pressing emself down onto Thor's lap, teasing and goading Thor relentlessly.
Beloved, beloved mine.
.
Loki watches him through half-lidded eyes, once-smooth hair now mussed and knotted. Ey fondly attempted to braid Thor's hair, fingers shaky, but determined. Thor imagined Loki at eir full-strength; lean muscle and lithe strength, starved beauty replaced by exotic power. He was grateful for this, that they did not hate each other, at least, not yet.
If Loki ended up hating him, it was not hard to imagine eir horns piercing his armor. It was not hard to envision blood decorating blue lips like rubies, or teeth tearing flesh.
Are you asleep, beloved?
