Chapter Ten – Allowing Distraction

A/N: Hi everyone! Again, a short-than-typical chapter, but one I quite enjoyed writing. Be warned, there are more Adult Times in this chapter. Given what I've read elsewhere on FF dot net, I'm going to leave the section here this time instead of referring you to AO3 (there will be tilde's around that part, for those that don't wish to read it). As with other chapters, we have a perspective change. This starts off with Ilmr and after the double page break, switches to Loki's perspective. The lyrics in this chapter are from Kelly Clarkson's "Addicted".

Enigma013/LovelyMouse/Animedemon1234: Thank you thank you for your kind words! I'm glad you're enjoying, I'm trying to keep it close to the storyline Marvel sets up (for now) while including enough original content that it's enjoyable, so I'm glad I'm succeeding!

Laraie Moonfur: Thank you, too! I'm glad you're enjoying and I hope the change didn't pull you out of the story too much. I struggled with the eye color thing but it ended up one of those artistic license changes that will come into play in the sequel I have stewing in my head that I'll begin writing soon (though there's still a ways to go with this story in terms of chapters to post!).

It's like I'm not me
It's like I'm lost
It's like I'm giving up slowly
It's like you're a ghost that's haunting me

It had not escaped Ilmr's notice, despite her absence, that Loki's nameday was approaching. She knew enough of the custom in Asgard to know there would be a feast in his honor that she would be expected to attend; dancing and feasting well into the night, nearly the same guest of honor he would be. She had picked out the knives as her gift to him; they would befit his armor.

"…Dear?" Frigga's voice broke through her thoughts.

"I apologize my Queen, what was it?"

It had not escaped her notice in part because Frigga had waited only a week after Ilmr returned from Nidavelir to turn their visits from pleasant ways to spend the afternoon to more meaningful meetings. Namely, planning the details of Loki's nameday.

Frigga felt as though, since she and Loki were courting, it was only appropriate that Ilmr have a hand in the events as his future betrothed; just as Frigga planned Odin's, and as Thor's wife would, when he finally charmed his way through Asgard and found a woman who could keep his eye.

Frigga smiled. She had such warmth and kindness in her smile; Ilmr did not mind that the visits had become filled with more decisions than she thought a wedding might. It made her wistful for the same experience that she had never had with her own mother.

"I asked which you thought was best: golden linens, or emerald."

So much in Asgard was gold and it was not necessarily Loki's color, though she understood why Frigga suggested it. "Emerald. And I think that lovely summer wine would be best."

"Mmm. I do so love it, the grapes come from Vanaheim, you know. The same kingdom Hogun hails from."

"No, no not the red. The white wine. That lovely concoction with the fruit."

"Oh!" Frigga laughed, turning to a servant who disappeared after receiving a nod from her Queen. She turned back to Ilmr with a mischievous smile. "I've had her fetch us both a glass." Loki was so much his mother's son.

Ilmr glanced over several sheaves of parchment. "That should settle the meal, should it not?"

The servant returned as they chatted, two glasses of the drink on a tray. It was a favorite of Loki's and Ilmr found herself partial to it as well; it reminded her of one of the first times they had kissed, his mouth tasting of it.

A knock interrupted just as they had moved on towards the entertainment. In truth, Ilmr was relieved to have a break, they had been going over the details all week and with less than a fortnight until the day, the details were finally being cemented and she found it more exhausting than she had estimated it would be.

"Mother, I-" Loki stopped, a smile spreading as he saw Ilmr seated with his mother. "My apologies, I didn't realize you had company."

Frigga motioned for him to enter. "We are finishing the plans for your nameday."

He wandered over to stand beside Ilmr, glancing over the menu on the table, holding a hand out absently as he did. With a smirk, Ilmr gave him her glass. He sipped on it before speaking. "What have you chosen for the music?"

Frigga regarded him with a smile that Ilmr thought was barely contained euphoria. Loki did not realize what he had done yet, but it seemed the simple sharing of a glass so easily was proof enough for Frigga that he truly cared for Ilmr.

To Ilmr, it was proof that she was not alone in her inability to keep as singularly focused as she wished on her ambitions. He handed the glass back to Ilmr, letting his hand fall to the back of her chair as he turned his gaze to her.

"We haven't yet. We were about to, but then the guest of honor himself arrived. What would you like? It is, after all, an event in your honor."

He thought quietly a few moments, sighing before he spoke, giving Ilmr a grin with a similar mischief his mother had expressed not five minutes before. "And it is upon you to plan it. I will trust to your judgment."

It seemed by now he realized what he had done in asking silently for her glass, given the way Frigga was still beaming, and he -at least to Ilmr- very conspicuously dropped a kiss on the top of her head before making his excuses and retreating out of his mother's chambers.

Frigga managed to contain herself for all of half a minute. She took hold of Ilmr's hand as she moved it to leaf through the various selections she and Frigga would hear the following day.

"I am truly so thankful, Ilmr." She nearly whispered in her excitement.

Ilmr smiled at her; it was impossible not to love Frigga. "I'm glad to be helpful, my Queen."

"No, no." She let go Ilmr's hand. "I mean I have never seen him act so. He truly admires you. I felt for so long that he was turning more into himself despite my efforts to draw him out. He has been so different since you arrived; he has seemed so happy."

More than Sif, Ilmr wished she could speak to the Queen about their plans. She had come to love her in the short time she had spent in her company. "I am glad for it, my Lady Queen, I find myself just as fond of him."

"Perhaps instead of a nameday next year, we will be planning for a wedding." There was no mischief in Frigga now, just earnest, hopeful happiness.

Ilmr felt all her nerves tingle, felt the panic begin to claw up her throat by the familiar footholds it had scratched there of late. She smiled wide at Frigga, hoping her momentary blankness looked only as if she were thinking ahead longingly. "One can only hope."

He was growing impatient and it was beginning to strain his sensibilities. He had not realized Ilmr was with his mother, though truth be told he had not bothered to even glance at the servants and guards outside her chambers before he burst in, and they knew better than to waylay him.

He had requested Ilmr's glass silently and she had acquiesced without a moment's hesitation. It wasn't until he saw the eyes his mother was making at him that he realized what he had done. It was a simple thing, the request and assent, but it was a physical display of their pretended closeness.

Except it was not pretended; he had made the request unconsciously and she had answered in kind. At least, he was fairly sure she had responded without realizing it. He placed a kiss atop her head as he left to ensure that he not only kept up the act, but so Ilmr would not think the moment with her glass was anything but a calculated motion.

Odin needed to announce his heir soon; Loki was sure that if he was made to wait too long, he would be utterly witless when it came to Ilmr. That could not happen under any circumstances. No matter that the match was calculated, that she was already on his side and more to his liking with each passing day. No matter that even after gaining the throne, he would likely have her remain at his side as his ally, his wife, the Commander of Asgard's forces. He could not afford distraction, not now and, perhaps, not later.

He woke on his namday as he had for many in the past several weeks: aware of a lightness that meant Fenrir had tugged his bed sheets off of him in an effort to be fed as soon as possible.

The night Ilmr had stayed -the only night she had stayed, he noted- she laughed when she woke a second time that morning to find Fenrir tugging at the sheets and shortly thereafter, his nose snuffling her face. Loki was glad she had not requested or attempted to stay any nights since; he had enjoyed it entirely too much and the solace he tried to take in explaining it away as simply missing her while she had been gone had only angered him further.

Missed her, as if she were somehow important to him outside of his plans. Plans that would see him on the throne of Asgard until the end of his days. Plans that had Ilmr Commanding Asgard's armies until the end of hers.

With a loud, frustrated growl, he swung himself up out of bed in one fluid motion, waving a meal into existence for Fenrir so that he would not be bothered by the ever-growing pup while he bathed.

After another fortnight of battling himself, though he tried to ignore it, part of him felt the resistance a useless waste of time. If those were his plans -and her plans- and he did not intend to annul the marriage once he gained the throne, there was little harm in allowing himself the distraction of emotions for her.

Because he was beginning to realize that Odin would not name an heir, not yet. By the time he did, it would be likely long overdue that a betrothal or a wedding be announced or officiated between he and Ilmr.

He had no doubt that his plan was working. Frigga was beaming as if all sunlight originated in her. Thor enjoyed her company in the arena and the Warriors Three and Sif had welcomed her into their inner circle yet respected her attachment to Loki.

Most importantly, Odin seemed to grow ever fonder of her. He appeared to enjoy conversing with her and had even once mentioned to Loki that she had turned out to be a better investment than he had thought. For Loki, that was the closest thing to pride in his second-son Odin had ever expressed.

He had little doubt that he would be named King. He could likely afford to allow small distractions. Especially if they meant he no longer needed a cold bath. The realm's forces would be hers; she -and Asgard- would be his.

A nameday gift indeed.

Shortly before the dinner hour, the servant he had sent to fetch Ilmr appeared to announce her arrival in his chambers. Fastening the last of the buckles on his vambraces he turned to see what exactly the gown Frigga had been up in arms about commissioning looked like.

His mother had outdone herself. Her vision and the skill of the palace seamstresses had yet to be outpaced.

Loki smiled wide, holding a hand out to her as he approached. He found that when he let affection tinge his tone, she was far more likely to acquiesce. "Let me see you." He turned her slowly, her hand in his, as he took in the sight of her.

Ilmr had been dressed in a deep emerald gown that just brushed the floor. A sheer golden lace, the pattern of which imitated the design of his armor, overlaid the gown from tip to toe. Her auburn hair had been left hanging loose and straight aside from several small pieces that had been pinned back from her face and curled. The modest front of the gown belied the dramatic dip of the back, which laid bare her back and ended just a handful of inches above the dimples that he had found himself so fond of in recent weeks.

"My mother has outdone herself, in this. And she has found a beautiful model on which to display such a gown."

Ilmr laughed, though returned his chaste kiss. "Did you partake of the summer wine without me? I thought we agreed we wouldn't begin the festivities until the banquet itself."

He glanced behind at his desk, on which an empty glass stood. "Perhaps just one."

She hummed, seating herself on the large couch as she watched him tuck several throwing knives into various folds of leather and cloth. "Expecting entertainment aside from the musicians?"

"Mayhap." He gave her a devious grin as he slid the last knife up a sleeve, the motion looking far more like slight of hand than anything else.

"Hopefully their weapons are not newer than yours." She nodded to the sleeve he had just effectively vanished a weapon into. "Yours are looking a bit worse for the wear."

Loki held an arm to her. He found he quite liked her teasing, once he realized she meant none of the ill will others he encountered did. It was one thing for the words to be a jab; it was another when it was done with the playfulness she seemed to exude.

It was different when it was someone who didn't fear his wrath because there was no ill intent meant. "They have served me well in many battles, not the least of which was the excursion to Nidavelir before their call for aid."

It was his nameday, and he had decided that he would allow himself to be distracted, and given the easy way in which she took his arm and stepped slightly closer than was her wont, it seemed she thought the same.

They were last to enter the hall for the evening meal, as the guest of honor and his guest. The entire room was overtaken by his colors. The heavy drapes were black velvet, embroidered with gold; tables laden with food were draped in thick green linens. Pitchers of the white summer wine he was so fond of were on every table, ice and wedges of fruit vying for space among the pale yellow concoction.

His father and brother wore their armor, though their capes were altered: a green piping running along the edges. His mother wore his colors as ribbons woven intricately into her hair. Aside from Loki, Ilmr was the only one adorned almost exclusively in green. She was ever perceptive, and he was annoyed at himself that this was still a revelation for him, from time to time.

"Thank you for this." He kept his voice low as he held her chair for her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Showing such affection was not something he was fond of in front of any, never mind so many. But just as he'd thought not a fortnight previous that Odin was taking too long to choose and name an heir, Loki realized the best pressure could come from a public so taken with Ilmr.

The women of the court and commoners alike would swoon over the tale of the woman who was able to work her own magic and bring out a softer side to Asgard's dark prince. Their husbands and suitors would fall in step behind them because it was easier to appease them than change their minds. And so, though he felt his stomach roil at showing such emotion publicly at all, he knew it would bring he and Ilmr that much closer to the throne.

Dinner was divine: all sorts of meats, and vegetables sautéed in a variety of herbs. The summer wine was never in short supply and Loki had just enough to feel the tension within him loosen, but not so much that he lost himself.

Enough so that when the time came for he and Ilmr to invite the guests to dance with a one of their own, he felt himself smile as he offered her his hand and led her down from their place at the high table. They had sparred more times than he could count, once Fenrir and Vidar had been properly tired out in the clearing, but they had never danced at any of the banquets or festivities at the palace, though each night seemed another reason for grand celebration in Asgard.

The musicians Ilmr had selected were superior, and he again was grateful for her perception and seemingly similar taste. They struck up a lovely, lilting adagio and much to his surprise -or perhaps his expectation- she fell in step with him as if they had practiced this particular dance. He had not taken her as one interested in dancing, but it appeared she had not been allowed to neglect her more feminine lessons while growing up in Vanaheim.

"You are a better dance partner than I anticipated." He was ignoring the heat of her skin under his hand, just above the fabric of the back of her dress.

"My mother insisted that for each hour I spent in the arena, I spent an hour on more ladylike endeavors."

He spun her away from himself before guiding her back gently. "And how well did that end?"

She smiled. "After almost a year of punishment and scolding, we agreed upon one half hour of 'ladylike activity' to every hour of my time in the arena." She slid away from him to arms length and after several intricate steps, was again so close he could nearly feel her against him. He gripped her hand the slightest bit tighter. "Some things I did not attend no matter what punishment I received."

"Like?"

"Like needlepoint, gossiping, and the art of fawning over one's suitor."

Loki brought them to a standstill as the musicians ended the tune, a cue to others that they could join in the dancing. He kept her close by the hand on the small of her back as he leaned in to her ear, dropping his voice to the low timbre he knew always sent a slight tremor through her despite her best efforts to remain unaffected. "You would not fawn over me?"

She curtsied, mischief in her eyes as she rose. Her voice was the soft, velvety sound that made him repress a reaction of his own. "I believe I do other things you prefer, do I not?"

Instead of the many other things he truly felt like doing, including leaving his own celebration markedly early, he kissed the back of her hand, grazing his teeth over a knuckle before leading her back to the high table. "I believe I would like a demonstration this evening to be sure I prefer those things."

It had taken some time, but they finally slipped out of the banquet hall alongside the King and Queen, claiming exhaustion from the preparations of the day and the unusual amount of time Loki found himself leading Ilmr around in one dance or another.

It was his nameday and he had allowed himself to be distracted for this one day, and so once the doors to his chamber closed, he allowed himself to let his fervor creep into his kiss, allowed her to clutch at his greatcoat as she leaned up into him.

It did not take him long to shed the coat, bringing his arms around her again hard once it fell away with a soft crumpling sound. He slipped his fingers under the hem of the back of the dress and it earned him a quiet sound as he deepened the kiss.

There was a clasp just below the nape of her neck and once unfastened, the dress fell away to bunch at the swell of her hips. He brought his hands around to the dip of her waist, holding her hard as he leaned down over her, grazing his teeth over her lips.

Her hands made quick work of his heavier armor, eventually holding hard around his neck. By this hold she pulled him flush against her, effectively pinning herself between he and his door.

Loki slid hands down, coaxing the dress past her hips. With a delicious, slow wriggle of those hips, he felt the dress slide down to the floor and a growing warmth against his straining length.

A feral growl escaped him at the sensation. He had given himself permission to be distracted. To give in. Just for his namday. Just this once.

And so he slid one hand up along her thigh, motioned her closer. She acquiesced, wrapping one leg around his waist. He lifted her then and felt her other leg around him soon after.

He made it as far as his deep couch, letting his full weight down on her as he settled on top of her. Her hand in his hair gripped harder for a moment before she broke the kiss and shoved him away, leaving him leaning over her on his knees.

Ilmr gave him a wicked smile, eyes dark with heat and mischief. She had grown particularly adept with his armor and in short order he felt first the cool evening air against his skin and then the heat of her mouth around him so quickly after he groaned.

Loki felt her hum around him, a tight grip near his base slowly pumping while her tongue massaged along him. Ever so gently, slowly, he felt her graze her teeth against his head and his eyes opened wide, thrusting deep into her mouth in response, a hand fisted her hair. He tugged sharply on her hair, keeping her still as he thrust hard into her mouth. Releasing her hold at his base, he felt Ilmr closer her lips around his considerable length entirely, her hand instead moving to his sac.

Ilmr was not like those delicate puffs of women he had had before, he remembered, as she tore herself away from him as he felt himself close in on his climax. The others would not have been able to pull out of his grip. Ilmr, in comparison, had reclined on the couch, the wicked smile in place.

Loki raised an eyebrow, curiosity and mild annoyance on his face.

With a soft laugh, she led him down to her. He felt a hand around him again and his eyes rolled back slightly when he felt her press him against her entrance; heat and wet and tight and soft greeted hard and slick. He was unable to check the guttural sound he made in his throat.

It was his namday and he was allowing himself an evening's distraction. He did not ask any questions, merely shifted his hips forward as she guided him, the quiet hiss he heard escape her as much pleasure as it was pain, from the look on her face.

She was comfortable; relaxed, even. Many he had had first had not been so and no matter what he did they were in considerable pain; only one or two had not been very nervous and so able to enjoy themselves somewhat their first time. He continued his forward motion until he couldn't go farther and judging by the look of only slight pain and discomfort, Loki realized it was because while she had to adjust to his size, she was also at ease with him.

He pulled out slowly and pushed back in harder, grinning at the quiet sound she made, grazing his teeth over her lips and down along her throat so that he would not hinder any other such sounds as he continued.

Loki watched her shift to lay the bend of one knee over his shoulder. With a smile that was all devious pleasure, he thrust into her harder, deeper, his smile widening at the sound that escaped her and the sight of her eyes that rolled back.

He bent, bringing his mouth to her breasts, teasing them with his teeth, letting the force of his thrusts provide sharp tugs as he held a nipple between his teeth; his hands held to her hips hard so that he did not move her out of his own reach inadvertently.

By the sight and sound of her: arching up towards him, quiet moans and fingernails digging into his skin, he knew she was enjoying herself and he too took the time to revel in the sensation, dragging her building orgasm out as long as he could while still being on the right side of cruelty.

When he finally decided to let her take her pleasure, her skin was slick with sweat and he did not hesitate to draw his tongue up her throat to taste her. At that, he felt her tighten even further around him and finally shudder in her release after several more hard thrusts. Loki laid his forehead against her collarbone and stilled. He was not quite ready to let go and so stayed as motionless as possible so as not to push himself over the edge.

Loki moved out of her slowly and led her over to his bed, stopping her before she could climb in. Instead he turned and pushed her to bend with her hands on the edge of his bed; nudged one foot with his to widen her legs. He took an extra few moments to enjoy the sight of her, the swell of her behind and hips paring down quickly as his eyes roved up over her waist, taut muscle under her skin near quivering with anticipation and leftovers of pleasure as she waited, unable to see him from her angle.

He ran his hands down her back until he reached her hips and gripped hard, moving into her so slowly he had to hold her harder to keep her from shifting back onto him in her impatience. When he could go no further, he ground his hips hard against her, humming in pleasure when she bucked back against him with similar force.

With a mischievous smirk she couldn't see, Loki slid one hand around her, rubbing two fingers against her quickly just as he began a hard, fast, full-length pace; pulling out just to his tip before forcefully thrusting back into her. The throaty, velvet sound that escaped her made him redouble his efforts, and he bent over her, sinking his teeth into her throat.

She did not last long, so sensitive from mere minutes earlier, so when Loki felt her grip around him vice-tight again, he did not hesitate and, with half a dozen more hard thrusts as she shuddered around him, he let go and found his own release deep inside her.

He remained buried inside of her, listening to her catch her breath quietly before shifting them up onto his bed to relax more comfortably.

After several minutes, she rolled out of bed and padded over to his couch. He had been expecting that she would make for his bathing room. Instead, she returned in short order with a roll of leather bound in a green ribbon.

"For your nameday." She held it out as she sat down alongside him again.

Curiosity got the best of him after a short hesitation and he took the parcel. It had been many years since he had been gifted anything from anyone other than Frigga or a diplomat trying to buy favor and he found it strange that she would present him with anything, nameday or no.

Within the leather roll laid four intricate throwing knives, masterfully wrought and beautifully adorned. He was unsure of what he was meant to say, so instead he lifted one to inspect it. Folded steel by the look of them, thin but heavy and with workmanship on the hilt and etching that was characteristic of a master smith.

"These are exquisite." It seemed to fall short, to him, but he realized it had been some time since he had spoken and he felt compelled to say something.

"I'm glad you like them; given the condition of your others I thought these may come in handy and are better suited to a future king."

It was his nameday, and he had allowed himself to be distracted today if he wished. He set the knives aside carefully and leaned over her again, pressing her down into his mattress, hands sliding down her sides towards her waist.