The halls of Asgard were full of nobles whispering, and slaves shuffling about, hurriedly finishing the day's preparations. Laetherea on the other hand made no sound at all. Her bare feet silently walked the corridors, enjoying the cool contact of cold marble and the softness of her dress brushing against her legs. Her eyes scanned her surroundings as though she hadn't been walking these same halls for centuries, marveling at each tapestry and ornate vase. If she hadn't been so acutely aware of being scrutinized she might have reached out to let her fingers brush against the intricate stonework of the pillars lining the walls.
But she didn't. With each step that brought her closer to the Great Hall, Laetherea felt the servants staring at her with increasing boldness. Though if she returned the stare they would immediately look down and resume their task without a word. It seemed that if Laetherea didn't inspire them any admiration for rising above her condition the way she did, they at least had the decency to show her the respect due to her position.
She scoffed and walked away, chin up. There was nothing she could do to change their minds, she had given up long ago. They liked ganging up against her, it gave them something to do, something to help them forget that they were servants for a while. So she let them. Laetherea had better things to think of, she wouldn't let anyone's envy ruin her mood, especially not today for she had waited this day a long time.
"Loki," she whispered, despite herself.
A young girl carrying a tray of mead cups looked at her as she walked by, startled to hear her speak. She was too young to have known Laetherea when she was still a servant too, and held no visible enmity toward her.
"Come here," Laetherea called the girl, gesturing her closer. Visibly confused and intimidated, the girl hesitated a second before obeying and hurried over. Laetherea merely smiled and grabbed a cup of mead, quickly downing it and setting it back on the tray. Under the girl's puzzled gaze, the cup refilled on its own. "What is your name?"
"U-Ulleah," she stammered with a blush on her cheeks. Laetherea's hand rose and pushed back a stray strand of her hair, making Ulleah tense.
"Go, Ulleah," she told her gently. "The festivities are about to begin."
She was gone before Laetherea had finished speaking, leaving her with a lingering smile on her face. It felt good to be back. Now the halls were almost empty, all servants at their place, all nobles waiting in the Great Hall. Laetherea stood still in front of the closed double doors and breathed calmly in an attempt to convince herself that this would go well. With trembling hands she smoothed over her green velvet dress. It felt heavy but the warm, reassuring contact felt like a shield against people's prying eyes. She had chosen the garment carefully for her first public appearance in ages.
It was rather plain but elegant enough. Baring her shoulders but covering her arms, it ended in golden cuffs around her wrists. A similar jewel ensnared her waist, and two slits going from her belt down to the floor showed Laetherea's alabaster skin. First her hips, then her long legs, down to her gold-cuffed ankles. No unnecessary adornments, no trace of vanity or wealth other than the quality of the fabric. The noble ladies of Asgard scrunched up their noses when they saw her provocative garments, a testimony to her position in their society.
Laetherea laughed in their faces, repeating to herself, like a mantra, that answering their distasteful comments or looks was beneath her. Let them be hateful.
"The doors will remain closed during the festivities ma'am," a polite yet sharp voice told her, snapping Laetherea out of her thoughts.
It was a guard, waiting for her to step inside with a hand on the door. She nodded in silence and walked in. The shining hall was filled to the brim with people, the common folk standing near the door and slowly giving way to Asgardians of higher status until finally there was the throne – Odin sat still and stern, his shaft in his hand and his eyes darted on the huge doors of the palace. Next to him was Queen Frigga, occupying a much less grand but masterfully crafted chair, and behind them stood the best of the best, the close circle to the royal family, the most privileged beings in the universe. That's where Laetherea was to stand, though she knew several people would have objected to that if they had a saying in it.
Surely enough all eyes were on her as she made her way towards the group of ladies waiting behind Queen Frigga, earning a few scoffs of disdain. The woman next to her even shuffled away as though Laetherea had lice. The young woman did not take offense and instead enjoyed the personal space it provided her with. She wasn't one for crowds and took several deep breaths to slow down the erratic beating of her heart – though it was perhaps due to something else than the hostility shown towards her person.
As if time was suspended, the musicians waited, hands raised and ready to play. Everybody stood still, the women were quiet even if you could sense how much they would have to whisper about if they could. The men stood straight behind Odin, half of them looking stern and the other half glad. A testimony to who the guests of honor were. For most of the Asgardians it was a bittersweet day. They would finally get their beloved prince Thor back, yet this joyous piece of news was tarnished by the return of his younger brother. After all this time, they still didn't consider Loki as one of them. Laetherea hated them for this.
"Look at her!"
"This dress is an abomination!"
"Such lack of decency."
"Why is she still allowed here?"
The few and far between comments uttered about Laetherea reached her ears but left her indifferent. There was a time where each ill word spoken against her felt like a stab in her heart, but it was long gone. Like so many arrows deflected by the wind, they never hit their target – or perhaps they bounced off her hardened heart?
They could look all they wanted, they could criticize until their tongues fell off for all she cared. Even if Laetherea had worn a völva1 linen dress they would have found something negative to say about it. Even if each centimeter of her skin was covered they would find her indecent and provocative, so she might as well make it worth their while – not that she dressed for them. This dress was designed and made to please but one person.
An abrupt rubble startled everyone and whispers erupted from left and right as the sudden noise wasn't followed by anything else, and people wondered what it could have been. But then, the massive doors of the palace opened, letting the light filter through the opening despite the late hour. The sun was setting but still blinding in it's brightness. A tall and dark figure could be made out and soon there was Thor standing before the crowd; the people were cheering, and the musicians playing, and no one seemed to care or mind the fact that he came alone. Thor strutted in with his usual swagger, looking like the golden boy who came home at long last – which he was to everyone in this room. But Laetherea didn't come here to see Thor's confident strides and jubilant smile.
Queen Frigga seemed to be the first one to look around, searching for her younger son, and Laetherea felt herself relax at that. She had always respected and admired the queen, and for good reason. She knew Loki held her dear in his heart and Frigga loved him for who he was, not in spite of what he was. But the fact remained that Loki was absent, and Laetherea felt her interest in these ridiculously lavish festivities melt like snow in the sun.
"Thor," Odin's voice rolled like thunder, calling for silence as he spoke. "My son, welcome home. We have been greatly anticipating your return."
"And I appreciate the feeling," Thor replied with a blinding smile. No doubt half of the female population swooned in that moment, not that Laetherea could see it, they all turned their backs on her.
She didn't follow the rest of the father and son small talk about the current state of things in Midgard and such. There was no point in being here. Laetherea felt anger flare in her chest, warming up her cheeks in a furious blush and accidentally turning her hair a bright red color. Before too many people around her could notice she strained herself and made it go back to its natural brown shade, though it was too late and a few women already noticed and further squinted their eyes at her.
They didn't trust her, same as they didn't trust Loki, they only saw the bad in them, as if people were black and white instead of gray. In their minds there was no place for nuances, they were the scape goats, the intruders, the ones to blame for everything. For this narrowness of mind, she didn't trust them either.
"Thor," Frigga's soft maternal voice interrupted his conversation with his father, a crease of worry barring her forehead. "What of your brother? What of Loki, where is he?"
Thor's face turned grim just as half of the women in the Hall turned towards Laetherea to see if the witch had an answer to this question. To their utter dismay, she no longer stood there, despite having been there a second earlier. There was no sign of her presence whatsoever in this room, not even a hint of perfume lingering in the air. Frigga who had caught onto what had happened smiled faintly as Thor confessed that Loki was not in good dispositions, and had refused to step through the front doors, insisting on going straight to his chambers, no doubt in a less polite fashion than his older brother did, but Frigga wasn't listening anymore.
She knew her son was in good hands.
Still barefoot, Laetherea dashed through the now empty halls of the palace, running past the tapestries and other beautiful pieces of craftsmanship she had been admiring earlier as if they weren't even there. Her heavy gown flew behind her, whipping the back of her legs with each stride until she reached her destination at the far end of the West wing. It was a fairly quiet part of the palace, little to no hustle, far from the Hall, the kitchens or the Royal Quarters. It was Loki's room, near the library, and closest to Queen Frigga's gardens.
Laetherea's heart hammered mercilessly in her chest, threatening to give away her presence and beat its way out of her ribcage. Her trembling hand rose and touched the wood of the heavy doors but didn't push.
Was he even in there? Or had she left the Hall too soon? Perhaps there had been a problem Thor wasn't willing to talk about in front of Asgard's entire population and his return was delayed another few days? Weeks? Months? Bile rose up in her throat and she forced herself to swallow it down. No, she couldn't allow herself to think like this. Loki was behind these doors, he had to be.
And without further ado, Laetherea removed her hand from the door and waved it, causing the double doors to open before her, and she stepped inside the now dimly lit room. The sun was still shining when she left but it was nearly dark now, only lit by a few enchanted candles that lit up as soon as the sun went down. One of them wavered oddly and Laetherea realized that in the far right corner, Loki sat on a chair and played with the dancing flame, making it flicker as he ran his fingers through the fire.
"Loki," Laetherea breathed out rather gracelessly, fearing that she was imagining him. She hadn't seen him in so long – too long. "Loki," she repeated, a bit more firmly when she saw him stop moving after she called his name.
Her pleas fell on deaf ears, Loki ignored her and resumed his playing with the candle as if it were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. She might as well not be there at all – he showed no sign of seeing or hearing her. But the sheer joy of seeing him again surpassed any feeling of rejection or annoyance, and it downplayed her reasoning ability.
"By the Norns, you're back, you're really back," Laetherea said, her voice nearly breaking in the middle of the sentence. The suppressed sobs she had been holding in for months now made her voice coarse and uneven, but she remained collected and kept her tears at bay.
She closed the distance between them in the time she needed to say those words, and her shaking hands covered her mouth as she stared in disbelief. He looked hollow. Her hands ached to touch him, to make sure he wasn't merely an illusion, a trick played by her mind. What horrors has he been subjected to during his absence? What have they done to her Loki?
"Am I though?" He asked, showing the first sign of listening to her. Laetherea fell heavily on the floor, her legs giving in when she heard his voice. So low, so raspy, as if he hadn't used it for too long, and each word scorched his throat. "I don't feel like myself."
"I thought I would never see you again, that you were gone for good!" Her laments grew pitiful and she hated it, but the aching in her chest was too much. Such relief, such solace. It grew in her chest, expanded, pressed against her heart, and hurt – it hurt so good. "Each new sunrise without you by my side was a new injury to my heart and to your memory - but it's over now, it's over," she cried out, shifting closer to Loki.
He still barely acknowledged her presence but Laetherea couldn't bring herself to care, for her love was back, he was returned to her in one piece - it was all that mattered. Finally she reached out for him, and when they touched Loki froze and looked at her, detaching his gaze from the dancing flame. There was this beautiful woman clutching at his leg like a lifeline, her head resting on his knee as she cried out her relief and comfort, and though he recognized her, he did not feel anything when he was aware he should.
"Let go of me," he eventually ordered her when he grew tired of having her weep on his leg. "You're wasting your tears on me, go away. You're burdening me with your pathetic presence."
Each new word, like so many spears to Laetherea's chest made her die a little. She flinched when he stood up and the contact was broken. That was far from the reunion she had hoped for, quite the opposite of the picture in her head. But perhaps more time than she had imagined had gone by. The Norns know where Odin had sent his youngest son. Time passes differently in different realms, it might have been centuries for Loki. Laetherea could only imagine what centuries of imprisonment could do to a person, and the months she spent without her love here on Asgard already felt like an eternity.
The loud clatter of a goblet hitting the floor woke her up from her daydreaming, and Laetherea jumped to her feet. What had gotten into her? She wiped her tears away. This was a mistake, of course he would think her weak if she welcomed him home with crying and wailing.
"Forgive me. I am merely relieved to see you alive and well," she said in a much more detached tone.
She hated having to act aloof around him. As good as she had become at pretending she did not care about anything around the nobles of Asgard, the only thing that made it bearable was that Laetherea could usually be herself with Loki. Would today be the day it all changed? Were the days of her privileged relationship with the youngest Odinson a thing of the past?
"Really?" He asked in a snarl, turning around to gauge her, as if searching for something.
It did not sound right, the way he said the word. Laetherea frowned.
"Did you think I would not be? With you gone I had nothing left!" She clenched her fist and took a step forward before freezing when she saw Loki's expression close off.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that my absence deprived you of your privileges, I did not mean to be such a discomfort to you," Loki scoffed, showing nothing but disdain to Laetherea.
"What is the matter, Loki?" She whispered, the air knocked out of her lungs almost instantly upon hearing those cutting words. "You more than anyone else should know that this is not true. Don't you use my own words against me, I am on your side, always."
"On my side," Loki repeated, tasting the words. "Perhaps yes, you are on my side. But not by my side, were you? While I was banished from Asgard, put in the darkness hole of the grimiest cavern, with no light, no warmth, nothing but silence, my own thoughts, and immeasurable pain!" He suddenly barked at her, his voice raising in a way Laetherea did not like.
"Don't-" She said, heaving.
Loki merely laughed bitterly, increasing her anger with his mockery.
"I can see the rage boiling in you," he observed, still grinning like a madman. "You are betraying yourself, woman."
Before she could step away from him, Loki closed the distance between Laetherea and him, and grabbed a lock of her hair, looping it around a finger. A fiery orange had replaced her natural brown.
"At least something hasn't changed," he said in a lower voice, as if he didn't mean for her to hear him. His hand stroke her hair and his gaze became unfocused. Laetherea jumped to the occasion to grab his wrist.
"If you only mean to insult and belittle me, then I forbid you to touch me," Laetherea snapped, raising her voice to the same level as his.
He wasn't the only one who could yell and be angry. Did he truly think she wasn't angry? That she wasn't putting up an act around the others but fuming inside? What else what she supposed to feel anyway, after her lover had been snatched from her arms and taken away from her in the middle of the night, when the bed was still warm from their love-making? With no knowledge of where Loki was, and no means of reaching him, Laetherea had no idea if he was even still alive, and if he was, when he would be returned to her. She ate, slept, and breathed, but her life remained in parenthesis all the while he was gone. Could he not see it? Did he not know her? He has always been her sole ally, her anchor, her tether – it was only natural for her to lose her footing when he disappeared from her life.
"Oh, and who exactly do you think you are to forbid a Prince of Asgard to do as he pleases?" He replied, still displaying the same sickening smile that made Laetherea's stomach churn.
She outstretched her fingers, clenched her fist, and repeated. Once. Twice. Thrice. No, there was no point, she was going to lift her hand and slap him into the next realm. How dared he? How could he? Her Loki might be a stubborn, ill tempered, spoiled brat, but he was not disrespectful, and as much as he liked to push her buttons and everyone else's, he only ever said purposely hurtful things to those he held in very low regard. Against her better judgment, Laetherea stroke him, the sound of the slap made even louder by the silence surrounding them.
"You miserable swellhead!" She spat at him, feeling herself give in to all the fury, the bottled up wrath making her hair stand on end – yet heavyhearted that their reunion, which was meant to be joyful and grand, had come to this. "I won't let you insult me without saying anything, Loki! And if this is the best idea you got to make me leave, then let me tell you that the lack of sunlight in your cave really must have killed your brain cells."
"Are you calling me stupid? Oh dear, you wound me," Loki laughed and clutched his shirt over his heart, further infuriating Laetherea with his condescension. "Surely you can do better, or maybe your own ability to use wit didn't fare well without my uplifting presence."
"Contrary to what you seem to think, I'm not as vain as you are, and as far as reputations go, mine is no concern of mine. Yours, on the other hand... what would people think of the legendary silver-tongued Loki if he couldn't even make his own woman calm down from her temper with a few well chosen words? Do not push me Loki, I'm not afraid to throw a tantrum the whole palace will hear of."
Now she was purely provoking him, feeling pride in making him as furious as she was, enjoying it even.
"Quiet," Loki told her, his voice dangerously low.
He was very close to her, for they had not moved since Laetherea slapped him. Knowing that he was at arms' length made her skin prickle, but as near as he stood, he had never been more out of reach, not even in this dark cave he spoke of.
"I am not one of your many servants that will blindly obey and look away, Loki!" Laetherea reminded him – in case time and distance made him forget who he was talking to. "I couldn't care less about what you want me to do; I'm here because you need me." Whether he admitted it or not.
He opened his mouth, his finger already pointing at her when she continued speaking.
"Go ahead. Deny it. It won't make me go away. Nothing can make me leave this room against my will."
Loki briefly considered putting an end to this pointless argument by picking her up and carrying her out of his chambers, but his sense of self-preservation held him back. Probably a good thing, because Laetherea had been fidgety and itching to cast a spell on him since the beginning of this conversation, that he was sure of.
"I resent you, Loki," Laetherea admitted, her tears welling in her eyes the moment the words came out – but she blinked a few times and the tears disappeared. "Why do you make me so angry when we should be celebrating?"
"Don't let me ruin your evening, my dear. It looks like we're in for a peaceful, starry night, surely my presence here cannot spoil your mo-"
This time it was too much. In a swift gesture, Laetherea changed his tongue into stone, effectively shutting up Loki, to his utmost outrage.
"If you have nothing but unpleasant things to say Loki, you might as well stay quiet," she chuckled, proud of her little trick. Not that it required a lot of skill, but the look of puzzlement on his face was a priceless sight. "How dare you speak to me in this way, Loki Odinson? Or should I say Laufeyson?"
This time she wasn't playing around anymore, and although Loki was quick to undo her spell, she did not let him say a word.
"Your origins are such source of misery to you, you often speak of your unworthiness, or the fact that the people might turn on you, that you are unjustly privileged in this life and that soon, someone will see it and point it out to the others. How many times have I listened to your doubts, your fears, as I eased them and pushed them away for you. How many times have you told me that my condition is no different than yours, that we are both united in our difference from the others? Were your words all lies? Don't you have an ounce of honesty in your body? If so, please speak up now, because that might just make me walk away – out of this room, and out of your life."
Laetherea's little speech had unsettled Loki in more than one way and she rejoiced in this knowledge. His hold over his Asgardian appearance wavered as he concentrated to control his anger. He had never hit her, never showed any sign of physical violence towards her, not matter how heated their arguments could get, so Laetherea was not afraid of getting hit, she was not stepping back when he glared her way. But she feared his next words, more than anything.
His chest rose and fell irregularly as he tried to calm down, but Laetherea looked at him with daring eyes, chin up, shoulders back – a regal stance for such a low born woman. Loki had to admit that he did miss her presence, her fire. If he was of Jotun ascendance, she must be a child of Muspelheim. Only she could melt the walls of ice surrounding his heart. Loki never fought against it, quite the opposite actually. Unfamiliar with being shown such warmth and care, he huddled against her, like a freezing man to a hearth. Where was this Loki gone? Was he still in the cold and humid cave that had been his cell?
"Nothing. You have nothing to say?" Laetherea insisted, giving Loki another chance to wipe the board clean and start this awful evening over.
Her shoulders slumped down when he finally looked up again and met her eyes. He would not make any efforts tonight.
"I don't answer to a slave and a whore, especially not one who thinks she can speak in such manner to someone far above her condition," he spat in her face, causing Laetherea to turn livid.
It did not last long. A second later, she was at his throat.
"I hate you! You wretched being! You filthy rat! You are nothing but a dishonor! A despicable traitor, no wonder people hate you so, you do everything you can to prove them right!" Her grip on him was tight and with her hands grasping his linen shirt, Laetherea ripped a whole in the fabric and yanked Loki forward to make him meet her fiery gaze. "What lowly comeback do you have this time, huh Loki? Are you going to stop at my modest origins or are you going to further insult me by insinuating that I'm nothing but a plaything you can dispose of, a opportunistic gold-digger and frivolous wannabe-lady who should worship the floor you step on? Is that what you truly want to spend your night doing?! Because I can play this game too!"
"Oh can you, now? Because you seem pretty much out of bird names to call me at this point! What more could you add after calling me an untrustworthy, unintelligent, undeserving Frost Giant offspring?" He yelled back with equal amount of hurt and anger in his voice.
He could not help but think that it strangely matched her own, as though his deliberately hurtful words had done more damage than Laetherea let on.
"You called me a liar, well here is the truth for a change: I despise you. I was taken away from my land, deprived of my home, my family, and my freedom, imprisoned in a realm out of time, stripped of every last scrap of dignity I had left, forgotten by those I held dear, and when I finally saw my suffering take an end, it was for this!"
He gestured at Laetherea, who stared at his hand in confusion, not knowing what he meant by that.
"I forbid you to look at me like that!" Loki suddenly exclaimed in a fit of sheer rage, startling her. "I have committed a great many faults, but you are no innocent either!"
"Do not raised your voice at me!" Laetherea yelled back, feeling the air around her sizzle with contained magic – emanating from both of them. "You think that being a man and a prince gives you the right to-"
"It gives me every right!" He cut her off.
All of a sudden, his feet didn't touch the ground anymore, and before Loki could fully process what was happening, his back collided with the wall. Grunting in pain, he caught himself right before he collapsed on the ground. In a split second, Laetherea was standing right under his nose. She was a tall woman, Loki did not need to lower his head much to meet her steady and rueful eyes.
From the corner of his eye he saw her hand move and caught it right before she could strike. With a strong grip around her gold-cuffed wrist, Loki blocked her attack, but she did not let go of the small ornate dagger she was holding. A gift from him, with a snake around the handle.
"I wish you dead, Loki of Asgard! You have brought me nothing but dishonor and pain! And just as I thought my torment was coming to an end, you hurt me again, and again! You are the monster everybody says you are! A heartless egoist!"
In another quick movement, Laetherea attempted another blow, this time Loki did not react soon enough and just like that, he was trapped between the wall and Laetherea's sharp-edged dagger. If he so much as swallowed, it would leave a small cut on his throat. A familiar warmth spread through him as he realized that he was at her mercy. Laetherea truly was as lethal as he remembered, both with a blade and her tongue – and in more than one way if his memory served him correctly.
Despite his long imprisonment, he was not helpless in hand to hand combat. Loki deftly turned the situation to his advantage and had Laetherea pinned against the wall while her dagger fell to the ground in a metallic clatter. With an arm across her shoulders to keep her from wriggling her way free and throw herself at his throat, claws out like a lioness, Loki very briefly wondered what to do with her. Was there nothing that would make her leave? Did he even want to see her leave?
He wasn't sure of anything. He had been underwater for so long, to be suddenly thrown back into his old life without transition made him lose his footing. Having Laetherea crawling at his feet the moment she entered his chambers made him want to disappear again and return to the now painfully familiar cave whose walls were the only thing he could see during his punishment. When he could see.
He shook the thought away and let go of Laetherea. Taking this for a moment of inattention, Laetherea pushed Loki back to free herself only to grab him by the collar once more, and in a desperate attempt to wring out a reaction from him, she yanked him towards her to close the distance between them. The surprise of her mouth on his was far outsized by the surprise of finding himself kissing back.
It was harsh, hungry, full of need. Like two thirsty beings drinking from a fountain of clear water after crossing the desert, they only stopped when they needed to breathe, and even then their eyes did not detach. Loki seemed astonished but not displeased with the sudden turn of events. Laetherea on the other hand did not seem satisfied in the slightest.
Before Loki could ask a question, she kissed him again, biting his lip to make a silent inquiry for him to open his mouth and deepen the kiss. Nothing about this was sweet, warm, or loving. Laetherea used her teeth, Loki bit back until they tasted blood, though neither of them could tell whom it belonged to. Her grip on his shirt loosened only when she decided that her hands would be of better use somewhere else, and she started pulled back his head, making him groan and break the rough kiss.
"You are the most-" she dived down and began to kiss her way along his jaw and up to his ear. "-infuriating and-" Laetherea bit his lobe and then wandered down his neck. "-conceited man-" she nibbled at his skin where his neck her his shoulder. "-I have ever had to displeasure to meet."
Loki put an end to her administrations by stepping forward – Laetherea tried to follow the movement and step back but she was met with the wall and gasped when her lips detached from her lover's hot skin. The moment she lowered her guard, Loki bent down a little and hooked his hands behind her thighs to lift her up. Reflexively, Laetherea wrapped her legs around him, no second thought.
"What does that make you, if you're so willingly giving yourself to such a vile, despicable being?" He replied, finally able to form a full sentence, even under the scrutiny of Laetherea's lustful gaze.
A shiver ran down his spine. A ridiculous idea crossed his mind but he crushed it – was that how a mouse felt when a snake looked at it, thinking about how tasty of a dinner it'll make? Laetherea had nothing about her to remind him of a snake apart from the dagger she dropped earlier and the serpent tattoo adorning the back of her right hand – a statement of ownership, both given to her by Loki. A reminder to every man who dared look her way that she belonged to him, and no one else.
"It makes me a woman of little virtue, but everybody already says that about me," Laetherea told Loki before licking his exposed throat with the tip of her tongue down the where his neck met his shoulder. He yelped when she bit him. "You can't say anything worse than what I already hear every day."
A challenge, or so it sounded to Loki's ears.
"My darling, we both know how little credit you give to other people's opinions on you," Loki purred as she worked her way down his shoulder, further ripping apart his linen shirt until she could toss it aside, leaving him bare chested.
She did not stop to look at him, not even a second. And Loki didn't give her the time either. Laetherea scratched his back, leaving angry red marks on his pale skin, while Loki captured her lips and made her close her eyes again. Those accusing, resentful eyes of her – oh how he had missed getting lost in these eyes, how he had wished her to be there even for just a moment. But she never came.
"Go ahead, prove me right!" She snapped at him the moment he broke their embrace to catch his breath. She snickered and Loki opened his eyes. Her hands busied themselves with the opening of his breaches. "Use all my insecurities against me, destroy me with the secrets I confided to you, twist around every word I ever uttered to tear down my spirit! I dare you!"
"Now who is thinking little of the other, dear? You think me malicious enough to use even your darkest secrets to my advantage when all I have to do is to push the right buttons, and you will unravel on your own?"
Treating her clothes with the same deference she did his own, Loki tore through the precious fabric of her dress, baring a single breast in the process. As soon as his eyes fell upon the perky nipple Loki dived in to suck on it, bite it, nibble it until Laetherea's insults were replaced by moans.
"I hate you," he uttered against the warm skin of her breast, his mouth hungry and eager to go back to his ministration. "You are exactly what they say you are – a naive little whore, not good enough to be one of them, not worthy of walking the same halls, a poor witless girl who thinks she can move to up the social ladder because she sucks my cock."
Laetherea glared fiercely at Loki, her stare growing sharper with each new hurtful word crossing his mouth like so many banalities. The ease with which he insulted her was baffling – not quite all that surprising but shocking in its deadliness. She refused to show him that it hurt, and kept her cool by sheer will when he snarled and smirked at her the way he did.
"The Ladies of the court are a lot more inspired in their diss than you are, you have been away too long my love, you lost your cutting edge," Laetherea deliberately provoked him.
Loki opened his mouth, ready to give her a tongue lash but at this moment Laetherea managed to pop open the buttons of his breaches, and so she reached down and wrapped his fingers around him. He was already fairly hard at this point, but with a few expertly given hand strokes, she had him where she wanted. Loki's mouth was agape when she looked up and their breathes mingled – each of his gasps helped restore her confidence, and she smirked with her lips slightly parted since she was panting herself.
They were surrounded by electricity, driven by raw sexual need, and nothing else. All trace of feelings or affection of any kind was absent, Loki made it clear that she was – or at least would be from now on - a hole. And he was nothing but a cocky little prince with a disproportionate ego. And as much as Laetherea would have resented using her Loki like an object, she had no remorse to boss this one around. She accelerated the rhythm of her pumping until he was nearly coming, his head buried in the crook of her neck, his hot breath only adding to the layer of sweat that was starting to veil her skin. Laetherea new him by heart, she knew his body better than hers, and when Loki slammed his fist on the wall behind her and grunted in a carnal way, she knew.
She stopped. A victorious, hysterical laughter fell from her lips when she saw Loki's face when he realized she wasn't going to give him his release. Her hand was out of his breaches and back to his chest.
The small serpent dagger reappeared in her hand, making Loki's previous smile drop while Laetherea recovered hers. She pressed the blade to his skin, and she saw the challenge in his eyes. Therefore, without further foreplay, Laetherea cut him. A shallow cut with merely a few drops of blood pearling here and there. She wiped it away with her thumb, smearing it on his chest before licking her thumb.
"I can see your desire for me in your eyes. I see through all your lies, all your deceptions. Your insults would have more bite to them if they rang true, you know? I cannot say I like hearing those words come out of your mouth, and I will not pretend that it leaves me indifferent, but I know when you lie Loki." Laetherea did not look away from him as he locked eyes with her, all the while lowering his breaches and pushing aside the middle part of her dress. "You say nothing? Cat got your tongu-"
Before Laetherea finished her sentence, Loki pushed himself inside her, cutting her short. A proud smirk adorned his lips when he saw the rapture taking over her features as words eluded her. A breathy gasp tumbled down her lips, followed by a lustful groan of sheer satisfaction. Laetherea instinctively threw her head back under the sudden intrusion, but she only managed to hit it against the wall behind her. She didn't feel the pain at all – at long last, Loki was inside her again.
"I wish you could see the look on your face right now – a perfect little whore. It's quite evident how much you like this, you depraved little creature! No wonder you can't find your place among the other women here, what kind of lady would give herself so freely and without any dignity? Being fucked against a wall is all you deserve, all you'll get from now on! I have been to generous with you, too lenient. Letting sleep in my bed was a mistake, your place is not in my chambers but with the other slave girls – cleaning after me and occasionally being bent over a table with your legs spread."
Laetherea's smile was hard to maintain through the overwhelming pleasure hitting her with each of Loki's thrusts. He quite obviously could not stop the words from flowing out of his mouth, letting his anger and frustration speak in his stead as he punctuation each fresh insult with another forceful thrust. She couldn't tell if he was genuinely trying to hurt her with his words and actions, but Laetherea knew Loki inside out, and could see past the insults.
The more vehemently he tried to persuade her she meant nothing to him, the less she believed it. Loki would only put so much effort into something if he cared immensely. However twisted this logic was, she knew for a fact that this was the working of her beloved's mind.
"The only reason I'm keeping you around is because you serve me well in the sheets, and I don't have the patience and willingness to teach another whore what I like! Ever since we were kids you chased after me, after my title and my lifestyle, but I've had enough! You will have none of it, the only thing you'll get from me starting this day will be my cock, wherever I want it."
"Well, well... Someone grew insolent during his absence," Laetherea hissed, barely keeping up her countenance under Loki's rhythmic assaults.
The tip of her dagger was still pressed against Loki's chest, only slightly digging in when he rammed inside her particularly hard. Every now and again his eyes would dart down and glance at the blade, and Laetherea knew what she had to do.
"I suppose I will have to teach you to watch your tongue..."
No sooner was the sentence over that Loki cursed between his teeth. Laetherea had slashed the dagger across his chest, leaving a bloody trail in its wake. It wasn't as shallow as the first cut and blood trickled down the wound more abundantly. Without any hesitation whatsoever, Laetherea placed her tattooed hand on the wound, making Loki hiss at the contact. Once her hand was covered in his blood, she placed two of her fingers on her chin and slid them down her throat, painting herself with Loki's blood. Then she leaned in to lick the wound, smearing blood all over her chin and his chest as her tongue traveled upward, peppering kisses along the way. When she pulled back to take a look at him, Loki was properly shaken.
"Is this whorish enough for you? Is that what you expect of me now? Rough, loveless sex that doesn't mean anything in the long run? I can forgive you a great many missteps Loki, but not this, not forcing me to behave like someone I'm not! I know the man I love is still somewhere in here-" she placed a hand over his heart. "Let him out."
No longer than a split second, Loki lost his composure and dropped his Asgardian appearance. Laetherea remained silent only because she knew he was embarrassed by his occasional slip ups, but she saw the Jotun marks on his skin, the red in his eyes, as brief as it was. She moaned a bit more loudly than before.
Her little display of arousal and knife game seemed to entice Loki for he increased the pace to the point where the line between pleasure and pain became blurry. A symphony of moans and purring sounds fell from Laetherea's lips – it was beyond her control, she had yielded her ability to form coherent sentences (or thoughts) by now. She could vaguely feel the throbbing of her womanhood under Loki's merciless pounding, the stiffness in her lower back as she hit the wall with each new thrust, Loki's tight grip on her thighs that was sure to leave bruises. But she was numb to the pain. Loki filled her in a way that surpassed physicality. His warm breath hit her face as he panted above her, making her reach levels of arousal she rarely hit before.
He swore, groaned, heaved, having lost the use of his tongue too. They were both covered in sweat and still half dressed, going at it against the wall of his chambers like two horny adolescents. Every dirty thought, every perverted idea that crossed Laetherea's foggy mind brought her closer to the edge. Loki was nearing his own release, she could feel it in the way he slowed down a little but buried himself ever deeper inside her, as if he could never quite reach his goal. Laetherea felt quite the same in the sense that she never felt like Loki could be close enough to her, even when they were making love.
Granted no one would ever call what they were currently indulging in as love making, but in Laetherea head, it would always be. Deep down, under all the layers of madness, anger, and vexation, she knew that Loki was showing her that he had missed her, and that he was relieved to be back and find her there, even if it was in his own sick way. It takes a wretched being to understand another. However depraved they might be, that was how Loki and Laetherea loved each other and showed it: with impellent diligence, and ferocious sentimentality.
It was a desperate kind of love. One that was hard and all sharp edges – sometimes they cut themselves while handling it, and it was okay. They always healed each other's wounds afterward. Tomorrow they would have many of those to tend to; not all of them as easy to heal as the gash on Loki's alabaster skin.
Another, louder, groan escape his mouth when Laetherea finally tipped over the edge and climaxed, scratching his back in the process. Her eyes left his for a moment, they closed themselves under the wave of pleasure that hit her, and also made her lips part as if screaming in silence. To her surprise, Loki took the opportunity to kiss her, and that sealed the deal for him. As his thrusts grew sloppier and his kiss deeper, he reached his own end inside Laetherea.
They stayed united for a moment longer, hearts hammering as one in their chest, breath mingling, eyelids fluttering. Yet before Laetherea could catch her breath, and as abruptly as all of this had started, Loki let go of her, causing her to fall limply to the ground, for the sensations didn't come back in her legs yet and she was too stunned to react right away. He stepped back as though touching her burned his fingers. He hastily put his breaches back on, pushed his hair back, and after one last look at her changed appearance to seem well put together, then strode out of his room.
Laetherea had cried enough for one day, so she swallow the bile that rose in her throat, and stood up. She was sore, sweaty, and tired. Angry too, despite having let most of it out during their quick embrace. Most of the remaining negative feelings she washed away with a rapid shower, but the tightness in her chest did not go away.
Fear.
For the first time since she woke up this morning, she wondered if things could really go back to what they were before.
For the first time since she laid eyes on Loki today, she wondered if part of him wasn't still in that cavern, waiting for her to come and free him.
1Priestess