You let out a breath, noisily, eyes stinging, cheeks cold, throat tight with anxiety. You rub a hand over your face and push away from the wall. If that's the way he wanted to play things, you had a weapon at hand that he did not.
The crowd hushes as you cut your way through the it, parting it easily without so much as a wave of your hand. With your skirts gathered in your fists, Hogun and Volstagg bow upon your presence.
Fandral curtsies elaborately, in front of you, tries for your attention. Though, he ultimately fails. But it matters not. Sif bows next, her shield to her breast and her weapon, down, low.
You wordlessly hop your gaze from her and Thor and back again, still clueless as to your arrival.
He has his back turned from you, guzzling water from a giant barrel, sloshing it everywhere, down his chest, the front of his pants, boots. Turning the dry ground wet and soggy with mud and water.
He turns your way a little to laugh to a comrade, raising the wooden barrel to his lips again.
Until he sees you.
He stills his hand.
His face changes, his eyes visibly brighten and he stands a little taller, more confident maybe, paving the way for a good ego stroking. Practically throwing down a welcome mat.
Egos as big as Thor's require competent and frequent stroking. And how.
You step forward, letting go of the hem of your gown, dragging the gold fabric through the dark brown mud. You reach your hand around the back of Thor's head, and pull him down for a kiss. Your lips meet his, delicious and warm and bristly.
He tastes of sweat and dirt and excitement. You slip your tongue in his mouth, and you run it along the roof, once, twice. inviting him in, tempting him.
You step closer to him again until you rub up against him, feel the clamminess of his skin, the roughspun material of his tunic and the dried earth caked on his leather pants. Of his obvious enjoyment.
When you pull away, you find him smiling.
And with good reason. "Seems my lady is wanting my attention this day."
"I want more than your attention..." you say with a wry grin. Thor. Gullible, wonderful Thor.
"Very well," he says, low and rough and practically dripping with enthusiasm, "allow me to bathe and dress and I will-"
"No." You say, a hand on his arm. No pressure, just there. A warning.
"But I am filthy from battle." he says, jovial.
"No." You say again. Arching your forehead. Voice level, something you've learnt from a certain somebody you dare not even think about. "It adds to…..this." You grasp the meat of his arm and pull him down to kiss him again.
…..
Thor is warm at your back, spooning you from behind, his large arms dwarf your own. Much to your approval. Maybe the way they looked so different is what drew you to the both of them?
Your backside and thighs ached beautifully, and if it wasn't for Thor's snoring from his sudden much needed mid-morning nap you would have found yourself lulled into a sleep yourself.
It was unlikely your day would be filled with anything as strenuous as the tasks asked of the Princes of Asgard and it wasn't like you could ask the previous Princess what her roles and expectations were for her.
The nearest target being Queen Frigga.
Your stomach rolls at the anticipation of a one and one conversation with the Queen herself, come Mother to both of your lovers.
Loki had mentioned many times she bore her own talent for the arcane. Thought would her talents allow her to sense the lie you tell her family daily? Hourly?
Sense it as easily as a cat with a piece of cheese.
The other would be Amora…. Although that thought made you physically nauseous and your stomach rolls to the point you contemplate sitting up.
You untangle yourself from Thor's mighty arms and swing your legs to the floor. Quietly, you dress and leave just as silently without waking him.
Your bare feet are cold against the smooth, marble floor, open and exposed to the elements. Squinting a little, near to your bed chambers, you see Loki hover nearby, it doesn't help matters that he always wore black and blended with the shadows as easily as milk and honey.
"Loki, what brings you here? Shouldn't you be making mischief somewhere?" You ask sickly sweet, half regretting not pulling on more clothes.
"Oh you'd like that wouldn't you?" He smiles, charming as a snake.
"You should be more careful, cornering a lady in the shadows in my state of dress." You quip.
Loki chuckles darkly, sending prickles and chills down your spine. "I am careful and you're certainly no lady. Especially when you're with me."
Your belly turns ice cold. "I beg your-!"
"It's bad enough I have to see him touch you but now you see fit you let me hear him fuck you?" He breathes, face warped in pure rage, hair at all angles. His eyes, red, round and mad. Chest heaving with every breath.
You right your posture, standing a little straighter, tricks his mind as well as his eye to viewing you as brave. Never ever fearless. "You left me in quite a state earlier, what was I supposed to do?" You say, sharp as a knife.
"Me. You were supposed to come to me." Snarling, you wouldn't have thought he could get anymore enraged. You were wrong.
So wrong.
He grabs your face, snatches your lips in his, hateful and cold and demanding. He pushes apart your lips with his tongue. Wanting and taking and your eyes water until you draw your teeth over his bottom lip. You bite down until he hisses and when he pulls away his teeth have a faint red hue. He licks at his lip, half smiling. At more than a few inches taller, he knows you have nowhere to turn, so you wouldn't even try it, therefore you couldn't.
"You never cease to arouse me you know that?" He whispers in a way that makes your heart sink just a little bit lower.
And you could swear the room darkens around him.
His hands slip down to your waist, small and delicate. Fragile in his hands. He pulls you to him, wanting more. In no position to refuse. He kisses you noisily. You close your eyes, slipping your hands into his leather overcoat, smooth and soft and rich.
His cold mouth and tongue moves down to your bare neck.
Fingers tighten in his long hair when he presses his hands up, around your ribcage as he falls to his knees, a false act of surrender. He dips his fingertips in the corset hem of your dress and they brush against your breast. Warmth pooling in your lower belly, throbbing deliciously to your own heart beat.
"Stop. Stop this." You breathe, leaning down to press your forehead against his, and you cup his face in your hands. You were still his and he knew it and you flee from his side
...
You find Loki, the next morning. His shoulder against a pillar. A book in his hands, you reach to take his hand in yours.
"I need to talk to you." Loki peers up at you, his lips thin and pale. He nods and waits for you to speak. Face, beautiful and sad.
"I can't do this anymore." You sigh, standing a little closer to him, needing his presence.
"You hate me, Thor loves me. Everything is backwards now. I'm marrying a man I don't love." Sighing you reach for him and he, you.
"When did I say I hated you?" He speaks softly. You sniffle gently, tears starting to form in your eyes. In the pure sunlight they'd be noticeable.
"I don't hate you, I could never hate you." Loki huffs out a breath. "I hate this game. I had this whole stupid lie!" He suddenly half shouts and you feel yourself flinch.
You must have jolted against him and he notices it. He pulls you against him a little more and presses apologetic kisses into your hair, your temple. "Would you come here?" Loki tugs you in the direction of an empty bed chamber.
"I've figured out if I want you, in going to have to share you with him. I'm not happy about it. Not at all. But….it's better than letting go of you. I don't think I could do that." The bed isn't made, though has a feather mattress and several pieces of dark oak furniture. He leads you to the bed, holds onto your hand as he makes himself comfortable and positions you next to him. Half on his torso, half off. Hands around his waist. "Would you please stop crying? You look ever so terrible when you cry." He chastises.
But when you look up to see his face, his mouth is twisted in a smirk. You press your face further into his chest, the leather and fabric rough and thick against your fair skin. "You're a terrible man…. Do you still love me?" You ask in no place to expect any answer.
"Mm, I never stopped."
….
You break the kiss and he worships your neck, throat, and collar bone instead. "At times, I wonder how he touches you." Your mouth curls into a smirk. Did he lay awake at night pondering how his brother pleasures you? You had already come to know how different they both were without clothes. How they felt different. How they smelt different, and how they felt inside you. Loki was long and slim like a serpent and Thor was shorter, stubby yet thick. Like Mjolnir's handle.
Loki had roared with laughter and blessed with you with kisses when you had told him.
"Do you spread yourself for him, hmm? The very image of a vestal virgin. Sweet and innocent." He presses his lips to your temple, "While I know you're anything but," he moves his lips to your shoulder and sucks on a patch of skin until it becomes wet and burning.
You push his hands away. "You know this isn't going to work if you keep getting jealous." his face drops slightly. "Your eyes are green enough." You cup his beautiful face, and run a thumb underneath.
He presses his nose to your skin, a subtle bow. "I know. I'm sorry." He sighs and you feel it across your bare skin. "I see you with him and it feels like… feels like when we were children. Always passed up for something better."
You sigh, defeatist, "he used his hands mostly. Most nights he's so drunk he passes out. I pretend we had sex the night before. I undress him and myself before going to sleep. Saves time."
Lokis eyes soften at that. Mulling over. Humility mustn't come easy to him, you ponder as his hands round on your hips, pale against deep yellow fabric.
"We'll have to lay off a bit while Thor's out if the city. Can't be getting pregnant without my husband to be around. Tongues will wag."
Loki is silent and your neck prickles a little from chills. You turn around to look at him, only to find his face long and solemn. His eyes directly on your lower abdomen as he stretches his fingers over your belly. Right where your womb lay. "Are you-?" his voice is a whisper.
"Oh, no, no, angel! Not right now." You cup his chin and kiss him firmly, warmly.
He must have been scared stupid.
You place your hand over his and press it a little firmer while taking in an uneasy breath. "But when Thor starts taking of having children and wanting to start a family… how about I have yours instead?" You try and smile gently.
Loki is silent again and your chest tightens with anticipation. "And what if the child comes with dark hair and green eyes?" He says sceptical.
"What of it? You came with dark hair and green eyes. Doesn't make you any less of your family than Thor." You smirk.
"I must admit... fatherhood isn't something I've given much thought to," he says slowly, methodically. "I have always imagined Thor would have his children first. Such as he is."
"You would make a wonderful father." you lean in to kiss him.
He holds your gaze some. Seawater blue. Thinking of things unknown to you. "We should do something. You and I. Before it may become troublesome to be off, galavanting with my brother in law."
You let out a delightful squeal. "Oh, but where to?"
"Nornheim? Jotunheim?" He says with a touch to your cheek.
"No and no. I look terrible in layers and the cold hurts my feet. Also I'm against being murdered by frost giants."
"Midgard is fairly tame this time of the day year. As are the mortals." Loki clicks his tongue.
"How about Alfheim? I've never been." you ask.
"Hmm." He says, pleasantly surprised and he smiles at the thought. "The land of the light elves. Forests of candy canes and houses made from the finest ginger bread."
Your heart dances with joy. "It sounds wonderful."
You entered the palace hours apart from Loki and retire for the night in your own bedchamber.
Noting what you were going to wear to Alfheim, contemplating its mild climate, rural terrain without having to change your usual wardrobe some. Altering suspicion.
##########
You wake at dawn and change into a pair of leather riding trousers, a thin linen shirt underneath a lightweight cream dress. Nothing out of the ordinary in any manner.
You take breakfast in your bed chambers. Eating as much as you can for the adventure ahead of you. Nerves and excitement gripping your stomach and halting your appetite some.
You exit the palace soon thereafter, taking the rainbow bridge, long and heavy and beautiful and vast.
As one of the palaces inhabitants as well as the future Princess of Asgard, you were free to come and go as you please, just as Thor and any of your friends.
"Sweet Heimdall." You greet the lone guardian of the Bifrost. His golden armour gleaming in the glow of the rainbow bridge and the subtle twinkle of the starlight beyond. he sweeps his gaze of gold onto you.
"Princess." He greets you and lifts his head and the vast crown of gold that lay upon it decorated with large horns pointing skyward.
"Could you let me pass? I would like to go to Alfheim." He looks skeptical at you. Bright eyes twitching slightly under your scrutiny.
"Nothing wrong with wanting to see one of the prettiest worlds in all the nine realms of there?" You grin.
"Absolutely not. Only that you may happen to embark on once you're there." Heimdall never once shifts his focus from you.
You're silent at that, narrowing down on him until you sense Loki behind you.
You'd love nothing more than to slip hour hand into his, just to spite him. Bjt you're better than that. Instead you say simply "I'll bring you something back." Watching the rainbows and lights begin swirling around you.