A few hours later Loki insisted they leave; Cynara felt better, but he slipped an arm around her waist, supporting her against his side as they passed through gilded halls. Sleipnir trotted on the other side of her, and Cynara patted him reassuringly, having won the little colt over with tender caresses and soft words.
Loki looked . . . distracted, and Cynara wondered if he was angry about Odin's gift. Sometimes it was difficult to tell what was going on behind that lean mask of a face. They turned and made their way down a curving flight of wide steps, descending until they reached a round chamber with heavy stone panels along the walls. Cynara looked again, startled that the runes on them were clear to her now, and that she could easily read them.
"Husband," she murmured, "Why are we here in a . . . meditation chamber?"
"It is one of the few places Heimdall passes by," came the reply. "Sleipnir—"
Cynara watched as Loki dropped to one knee and cuddled the colt quietly. Sleipnir snuffled along his hair and face, tongue and fuzzy lips making soft little sounds.
"Best of horses," Loki whispered, "my brave little son. Mummy is so very proud of you."
She closed her eyes, trying to fight the surge of tenderness welling up inside her throat. This Loki—loving and vulnerable—was almost too much to take.
"Stay here and be good; I will be back soon," came his reassurance. "We will run through the meadows and I may even bring a friend to play with you."
When Cynara opened her eyes she saw Sleipnir looking at her expectantly. She reached to stroke his muzzle once more, and his tail spun in happiness. "Sweet baby," she told him. "You are a darling."
Satisfied with this, the colt trotted back, nearly tripped over his own spindly legs, and pricked his ears up. Loki gave a deep sigh. "Off with you, child of my heart. Stay with the Allfather and be . . . good."
Sleipnir gave a little snort and moved up the wide steps reluctantly, stopping mid-way to peek his head through the railings. Loki blew him a kiss and turned to catch Cynara looking at him. Impulsively she slipped her arms around him, burying her face against the pale gleam of his throat.
They stood quietly entwined until the sound of Sleipnir's hooves faded away and all was quiet once more. Cynara sniffled, and looked up at her husband. "He's wonderful. You are wonderful with him."
"He is easy to love," Loki admitted. "There is no deceit nor malice in Sleipnir."
"Yes," Cynara agreed. "I didn't realize how much you love him."
Loki looked proud. "He is my son."
"He certainly has your legs," Cynara murmured in a soft tease.
That brought her a quick grin, and Loki laughed. "That he does. Would you be agreeable if I brought Sven-the-Fress to Asgard at some point?"
Before Cynara could make some comment about astral play dates, the two of them vanished from the chamber in a flash of green light.
-oo00oo-
Ravenscroft was still as bleak and beautiful, even in the faint light of day. Cynara caught only a glimpse of the impossibly blue sky above in the canyon before Loki rapped the doors for entrance. This time Håkon opened them, and Cynara noted that his glowing eyes registered amused intelligence as he loomed over her.
"Lord-Master, Lady-Mistress," he growled. "Welcome home."
"Thank you . . ." Cynara replied, both surprised and touched to be greeted. Loki had pulled off his helmet and handed it to a smaller furry figure, adding his cape and golden staff before turning to Cynara and taking her hands.
"Your mistress and I are not to be disturbed until we ring for you," came the quiet order. "Attend to the pet; other than that, you are free to entertain yourselves."
"Yes, Lord-Master," Hakon agreed, and moved out of the main hall, his furry bulk making no sound as he padded away. Cynara watched him go and then shot a side-long glance at Loki, who was smirking.
"You look like trouble."
"Have I ever looked like anything else?"
"Actually, no," Cynara laughed. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, holding her gaze for a moment before bending closer, his breath warm against her face.
"Bride of mine, you have no idea how worried I was when the Kajsa hit you," Loki sighed. "To lose you now would break that stone within my chest."
"I'm fine," Cynara assured him in as quiet a voice. "I may not be a god like you, but I'm tough, Husband. It takes a lot to sweep me off my feet."
"Forgive me, but I feel the need to make certain for myself," he purred, brushing one cheek against hers as he spoke. "Slowly, and thoroughly. It may take time and patience for me to . . . satisfy myself."
"I can take anything you can dish out, Loki Laufeyson," Cynara put a throaty little growl to her words. "An-y-thing."
Very slowly he smiled, his lips curling up, his dimples appearing as he did so. It was more than a smile; it was a promise of delicious temptation, and seeing it, Cynara felt a rush of heat below her stomach.
"Let us see then," Loki told her simply, and scooped her up.
-oo00oo-
He carried her down the hall to the bedchamber, fighting the urgent tension within himself as he did so. Loki steeled his will against his own impatience and gently set his bride on the fur coverlet, seating himself on the edge as he reached for her hands. They were cool, but her fingers squeezed his reassuringly.
"You will do nothing without my consent," he told her. "Not a move without direction. Here in this chamber I am your lord and master, my pet. Do you agree?"
His bride looked at him and smiled, saying nothing.
Loki cocked his head, smiling back. "Smart girl. Yes, you may speak and tell me your answer."
"Yesssss," she murmured, her tone saucy.
"Oooh insouciant are we? The correct reply is 'yes, Husband," he told her as he reached for the small zipper along her ribs. "In all replies you will address me as such. Now, lie still and let me attend you."
Again she kept silent, shooting a flirtatiously defiant look at him, and Loki drew in a breath, feeling a rush of pleasure at how quickly she rose to the Game, how perfectly she met his bravado with her own.
This was going to be fun, he realized. She was showing him that she was more than ready to play, and his pulse quickened in happy anticipation. Loki peeled away the dress, letting his touch linger along his bride's newly exposed skin, and when she was left naked, he made a show of carrying her clothing across the room and setting it aside. Having her watch him was as much a part of the game as anything else, and he turned to look at her lying on the fur spread, pleased with what he saw.
She was lushly built and unmistakably female, her contours and curves highlighted in the blue glow of the cavern around them, and Loki held himself still as he studied her long body. When the need to move became too strong, he stepped forward, moving to the head of the bed and leaning down a bit, watching her shiver with chill and anticipation.
"Such a dilemma we have, my pet. You look cold again, but there is nothing at hand to warm you," Loki mock-sighed. It was amusing to see her from this angle; upside down and restless. He sensed she was about to say something, and before she could, Loki reached down a hand and pressed it against her cheek, his big palm covering most of it. "Poor little chilled darling." He let his thumb run across her lips.
His bride gave a little hiss of frustration, and Loki noted with delight that she was squirming now, her hips rocking a bit. He made himself frown down at her. "Oh does the pet have something to say?"
"You're warm," she blurted, and then bit her lip.
"How dare you accuse me of such a thing!" Loki taunted. "And you did not address me properly either. I see some correction is needed. Roll over."
It took a moment for his bride to comply; she gave an indignant squeak and shot him a mutinous look, but Loki held his ground and finally she rolled over less than graciously, presenting him with as fine a view as before as far as he was concerned. The long slope of her spine gleamed in the blue light, and the sweet little dimples at the base beckoned his touch, as did the firm globes of her ass.
"Oh my," Loki breathed, his gaze taking her in. "Do I see the rolling hills of paradise before me?"
He heard her snort into the coverlet and chose to ignore it, far too focused on the simple beauty of her ass. Moving as quietly as a panther, Loki shifted around one side of the bed and leaned down, baring his teeth. He nipped the nearest cheek; a quick little love bite into that sleek skin.
His bride flinched, her shocked yip muffled by the coverlet. Loki saw her body tense up, the long muscles tightening and defining themselves in the low light, and the sight of it sent a fresh surge of desire between his thighs.
"Shhhhhh," Loki purred. "I have not yet begun to bite."
