Astraea jerks awake, head pounding and heart hammering against her ribcage. This was certainly not where she was supposed to be, she thought, looking around the room in dismay. She was in the palace, in a room larger than any she had ever seen, in a bed big enough to fit at least four, and…sore.
It was the latter realisation that brought memories of the previous day rushing back to her.
She had lost the wager. The wicked king had known she would and she played right into his hands.
Just like a stupid little girl would.
He had claimed her as his prize, defiled her, but that wasn't even the worst part. No, that honour went to the fact that she had enjoyed it, and had experienced pleasure like no other from the cock of a trickster.
She wanted off this planet, but first she needed to retrieve the relic, and also find clothing, as the king had apparently neglected to dress her after defiling her in the freezing Jotunheim climate.
A shiver ran through her at the memory of him gazing upon her naked form with his lust-blown red eyes.
Astraea quickly scrambles from the bed, wanting to study the room before her. The four-poster bed in which she just woke up, along with a massive closet takes up half of the room. The bed posts were ornately carved, depicting scenes from various myths, some she knew, and others that were unfamiliar.
Cautiously looking around, she spots a huge window that is directly opposite the bed and overlooking the towering snow-covered mountains of Jotunheim.
Glancing to the left side of the room, she sees two towering doors that seemed to be constructed of both ice and wood. These too were ornately carved with runes and symbols that were foreign to her.
A beautiful mural spanning across the wall dominated the room, disrupted only by the existence of the doors centered in the middle.
It was an enormous sea serpent - Jörmungandr she realised. The great beast that lived in the ocean surrounding the realm of the mortals, rumoured to be a son of Loki.
Astraea froze. These were the king's rooms.
She had to leave. Immediately.
Rushing over to the closet, Astraea pulls out the first tunic and trousers she can see and dresses herself in record speed. She spots a pair of fur-rimmed boots next, laying abandoned at the back of the wardrobe, tugs them on, and then makes her way towards the door.
Find the relic and leave this place,she tells herself. That's the plan.
Ignoring the insistent throbbing of her head, Astraea makes her way out the doors and into the empty hallway, briskly walking through the corridors. It's abnormally quiet for a palace. The broad and straight halls are cold, unwelcoming and all of them identical.
Finally, she reaches a winding staircase leading downwards, and takes a deep breath she slowly begins to descend; if there was anyone in the hallway below, she had to be as quiet as possible.
She's almost reached the bottom when she hears voices coming her way, and she spins around, climbing back up the stairs in a rush, rounds the corner as soon as she reaches the top, and bolts down the corridor before she can be spotted.
Just as she thinks she's in the clear, she collides with a cold, hard chest.
With a yelp Astraea falls onto her backside, the impact setting her off balance and worsening the pounding of her head.
Out of the corner of her eye she sees Loki.
"You are in my way," she snaps, closing her eyes and willing the pain to go away.
"Really?" he chuckles, "I thought it was you who was in mine. Either way, you should be resting."
"I don't need to rest, I need to get out of here," Astraea retorts, scrambling unsteadily to her feet. "Where's the relic? I want it."
"You lost, the relic is mine, and so are you," he said, placing a hand on her forearm to steady her.
"No. I'm leaving, give me th- Hey! Put me down!"
To her absolute horror, the king lifts her up and slings her over his shoulder.
"I said you need to rest," he repeated, "You are going back to bed. My bed."
"Let me go!" she shrieks, furiously kicking her legs in an attempt to make him set her down. "I'm not a sack of vegetables!"
"If you don't stop squirming, I will spell you into unconsciousness," Loki growls in return.
That threat was enough to silence her.
Astraea's fists clench at her sides beneath the bed sheets.
The target of her ire is currently seated near the foot of the bed and set on watching her intently.
"You are in pain," Loki idly remarks, more to himself than to her.
"You fucked me like a beast in the middle of a blizzard! Of course I am in pain," she snaps at him, furious at his nonchalance and seeming lack of care towards her current state.
"I do not remember you complaining at the time," Loki says, voiced tinged with amusement, "Nor while you were running through the halls headed to the Norns know where, and not in the least concerned about your lack of winter dress."
Astraea grits her teeth in answer, choosing instead to admire the delicate white curtains which she had failed to notice earlier.
"Speaking of careless," he continues, eager to discover her intentions, "You came to my realm seeking to steal from me in naught but a gown. Any particular reason for that, kǫttr?"
"I was in a rush and simply forgot," Astraea lies, shifting uncomfortably in her spot.
"A lie. And not a very good one, either," he points out, eyes fixed on hers. "It matters not. You will tell me, eventually."
"You are mistaken. I have no plans to remain on this realm," Astraea retorts,
snobbishly tilting her chin up in an attempt to look demanding and fearless.
"No, dear one. It is you who is mistaken," Loki replies, a dark grin spreading across his features. "You are my prize, and I am far from done with you yet."
"You don't understand, I have to go!" she protests, growing desperate. "Just give me the relic, please and let me leave."
Loki moves, towering over her in a flash, roughly gripping her chin to force Astraea to look him in the eyes.
"One more word about the relic or leaving and I will punish you," he tells her, speaking in a low, harsh tone, "This is my palace, my realm and you will obey me. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, I understand," Astraea replies tremulously, averting her eyes from his petrifying gaze.
"Good," he replies, pleased with himself for both gaining her acquiescence and for instilling fear in her heart. "Now rest, I will wake you when it is time for dinner."
With that, Loki spins on his heel and storms from the chamber, leaving Astraea alone once more with her thoughts.
What will become of me now?
She wasn't able to leave, and even if she could, returning home was not an option because they would be waiting for her. They had made it clear that if she didn't do as she was told it would end poorly for her.
She had tried. It wasn't her fault that her plans were thwarted by Loki!
Perhaps she could reason with them? Beg them to give her another chance?
Astraea's mind began to race, dwelling on various possibilities and outcomes. Would they kill her for her failure? Send another in her place to do what she had failed to accomplish? Would the Ice King protect her from harm if they came for her? Or would he throw her at their feet once he had his fill of her?
He wasn't a monster, he wouldn't idly stand by and watch harm come to her…right?
Isn't he, though? challenged a voice in her mind. iHe defiled you in the middle of a forest!
But she hadn't stopped him. She had liked it.
And although he had defiled her in a forest, he could have left her to perish in the cold once he was done. Instead he had brought her to the palace, placed her in a warm bed, and returned her there when he later found her in the hallway and noticed her swaying on her feet.
Would a monster bother to show such kindness?
I am far from done with you yet.
His words echoed in her mind.
Yes, she decided. This monster would bother to show kindness, for he had his own selfish reasons for doing so. After all, she was his plaything now. A toy for the king to entertain himself with.
Leaving this realm without the relic in hand was not an option. Therefore, she'd be his willing little toy until an opportunity arose.
And then she would get the hell out of here.
As promised, the King returned some time later to retrieve her for dinner. He handed her a warm, fur-trimmed gown, and led her out the door as soon as she was dressed.
She followed him through the icy hallways, down two sets of stairs and finally, through a set of enormous doors. These too were carved from both ice and wood, Astraea noticed, as was almost everything else she had seen in the palace.
The feast hall was monstrous in size, the ceiling must have been eighty foot high, and the room was bustling with activity. At least a dozen long, solid wood tables, each capable of seating at least twenty giants filled the arena. Jotunn servants were placing trays upon trays of food before them, some containing dishes she had never seen before.
Though the men were substantially larger than the women, both were well-muscled and rough looking and could definitely handle themselves with equal ferocity. Neither, however, apparently wore much clothing.
The men wore trousers and not much else, aside from some opting to wear decorative furs slung around their bare shoulders. The women wore fur skirts and tops made of a material that resembled leather, but some were bedecked in elaborate furs adorned with gems – an indication of nobility, perhaps?
And everyone was red eyed, blue skinned and outrageously tall.
She was the odd one out. There were no delicate, golden-eyed maidens to be seen in this hall, no one with Astraea's shimmering sun-kissed skin and long, silky brown hair.
She was alone.
Loki's voice broke through her thoughts: "This way."
Astraea continues following him, peering around nervously as Loki led her through the throng of giants, and trying to ignore the whispers that had erupted throughout the room.
What seemed like hundreds of pairs of red eyes were fixed on her, most of them glaring in disdain. These people didn't know her, yet they had already chosen to despise her.
How would she survive Jotunheim if its inhabitants evidently wanted her gone?
After what seemed like an endless walk through the most malicious atmosphere Astraea had ever encountered, they finally reached a table that was identical to the rest, aside for the fact that it was on a raised dais and facing the entire hall.
Astraea had seen enough feasts to know that this was where the King, Queen and their royal advisors sat. Except there was no Queen – only the king and his council members.
Loki calmly makes his way to the throne-like seat placed at the centre of the table. "Sit," he tells her, gesturing towards the empty chair on the left.
Seeing as sitting at the head table next to the king is a far better option than standing around like an exotic caged animal, Astraea follows his instruction and takes her seat. Hopefully the start of the feast will divert the attention of all those studying her.
Her wish is only partly granted.
Once Loki commands for the meal to begin, the majority of giants busy themselves with the mouthwatering selections of food before them. Those seated at the high table, however, are far more interested in watching their king hand his guest a goblet of wine and place various meats and what looks like blue broccoli onto her plate.
Is everything on this wretched planet blue?
While none vocalise their disdain at a foreigner being seated at the head table – and being served by the king, no less – their feelings are obvious from their expressions.
The king, however, has either not noticed the disgust of their audience or simply does not care. Once satisfied with the amount of food on Astraea's plate, he immediately turns to the Advisor seated at his right, begins a conversation and ignores everyone else.
Much to Astraea's dismay, that includes her, too.
Left with no source of conversation, and her hunger rearing its head in the form of a stomach rumble, Astraea tentatively tastes the food on her plate. She is surprised to that the blue vegetable may not actually be broccoli but is definitely delicious, and tucks into her meal – all the while attempting to ignore the crude whispers, comments and remarks of the giants around her.
It works. Mostly, at least.
—
Her plate empty, her wine all drunk and Loki still ignoring her, Astraea has resorted to the only option available to amuse herself with: Studying the giants. Which is entertaining enough until she unintentionally makes eye-contact with the wrong one.
Specifically, the giant sitting across from her. He was terrifying, the bulkiest giant she had seen so far, all threatening fangs and red, spine-chilling eyes - so unlike Loki's, which resembled rubies.
She had previously overheard him speaking to his neighbour about whether or not the king would let him have her once he'd had his fill. And now he was greedily biting meat off a bone as if he were devouring her, all the while staring her down.
This wasn't a hateful glare. This was something else entirely. She remembered that look, it was the one Loki had worn the night before in the forest, the moment before he had ravished her. Except there was one major difference between the two: The look in Loki's eyes hadn't been malignant or made her ill at ease, but instead had aroused her and made her crave him as she craved air.
Dread creeps over her like a blanket of merciless, cold snow. She shivers and presses closer to Loki, subconsciously placing her hand on his wrist where it sits on the armrest of his chair.
Unsure what she had hoped the king would do, she is unreasonably pleased when he reaches over, lifts her and deposits her into his lap.
She feels safe from harm, though she knows she shouldn't. He is her captor and she his captive, but he is the only familiar thing in this foreign place. She can't trust him, but his presence is comforting.
So she shifts in his lap, turning to straddle him, and locks her arms around him and hides her face in his neck, avoiding all the eyes she knows are on her once more.
Loki doesn't react to her sudden change of position, but does find himself attempting to ignore his suddenly hardening cock.
And for this exact reason, Loki redirects his attention back to the table, engaging in painfully boring small talk with his councillors, but within an hour, the weight of Astraea's small, warm body pressed up against him becomes too much to resist.
Well, self-control was never his forte.
No longer bothering trying to restrain himself, his hands begin their exploration at her waist, trailing up over her curves and pausing at her breasts, where he delights in the discovery that her nipples are already hard as stones.
He pinches them, relishing the responding moan that leaves Astraea's throat.
"Eager girl," he breathes into her ear, hands now beneath her dress and caressing over her uncovered mound.
Perhaps it was the wine, or maybe it was her earlier feelings of safety but Astraea did not protest.
Loki places one hand on her inner thigh, ensuring she can't close her legs as the digits of his other gently spread her lips apart, finding and roughly pinching her clit, then sliding down to her entrance to tease her cunt until she is dripping and ready to accept him.
Once satisfied that she is sufficiently aroused, he uses his Seidr to free himself from his trousers, aligns himself with her slick entrance and slowly breaching her.
"A-ah!"
Astraea's high pitched cry attracts the attention of every giant in the room, all heads instantly turning towards the head table. Various expressions cross the faces of the crowd, shock and repugnance being most prominent – a fact Loki delights in, gaining perverse pleasure from being able to look upon his subjects as they watch him debauch his little maiden.
He knows very well what they are thinking, he can see it written plainly across their features. In all his years as King, he has never once laid claim to a woman in public, has never once even been tempted to do so.
His subjects are wondering what brought upon such a change, what could this tiny, foreign woman possess that their feared and fearless leader would find so irresistible.
Another fact he delights in, for he will allow none to ever lay hands upon her and thus they will never discover the bliss that is Astraea's cunt.
"Hush, little girl, taking me will become easier, with time," Loki whispers, voice coated in saccharine sweetness.
Loki's shaft is colder than Astraea remembers, it's frigid, near unbearable, making her hyper-aware to his gradual and thorough penetration. He has barely breached her but she feels full, the thick head of his cock splitting her open and making way for every last inch of him.
"Now, show them all who owns you," he purrs, slowly sheathing himself in her warmth. As he presses deeper he deliberately allows a loud groan to leave his throat, wanting to exhibit to everyone present the pleasure he is experiencing.
Astraea mewls loudly as his chilly cock makes its way forward, pussy clenching hopelessly around him as her body tries to accommodate his girth.
"No one else can have you," he grunts, "No one but me will ever fuck your tight, hot cunt."
Loki directs his words to the previously offending giant, a detail Astraea is not privy to as she is not facing the table and therefore does not see the stony glare the King gives him.
Finally hilted completely, Loki gently rocks up into her, establishing a slow, teasing pace.
The action makes Astraea bounce up and down on his lap, providing those still watching insight into how powerless she is compared to him.
A low groan escapes her when Loki places his hands on her hips and starts moving her harder up and down his prick.
"Are you enjoying this, little one?" he murmurs in arrogant triumph, but still speaking loud enough for all seated at the head table to hear. "Do you like how the king's cock feels inside you?"
"Yes, Loki," Astraea whispers, utterly embarrassed that she was indeed enjoying it.
"Shall I fill you with my seed again, darling girl?"
Drawing in a deep breath Astraea meekly mumbles "Yes. Please."
"I don't think everyone heard you. Say it louder," he commanded, punctuating the order by thrusting harder. "Tell them what you want."
Drunk on pleasure Astraea obeys, immediately babbling, "I- Ah! Please! I want you to fill me Loki."
A self-satisfied smile splits Loki's features and his eyes sweep over the audience. They now have not only borne witness to his claiming of her, but also her obeying his lewd demands.
"That's my girl," Loki grunts his praise, now fucking Astraea with renewed vigour. "I want you to come…now."
Incapable of resisting Loki's silky, deep voice, and eager to experience the depths of orgasmic pleasure once more, she comes, sinking her teeth into his shoulder as she rides the waves of her climax.
Soon Loki's steady thrusting becomes uneven, hips stuttering before he groans and pumps Astraea full of his seed, which drips out of her strained entrance and onto both the seat and his legs.
Minutes pass before she is able to form coherent thought.
"Wh-Why am I so tired?" she manages to say, feeling the same overwhelming exhaustion as she did in the forest.
"Shh. You are mortal now, my delicate flower." Loki whispers in her ear. "Your body needs time to adjust."