The day Loki allowed Petra out of his tent, she was a magnet for attention. At first, the giants collectively stared at her from their fire circles, through cracks in tent openings and peeked around firs. Then, a young Jötunn sidled up to Petra and Loki and asked if he could touch her hair. Confused, but eager to interact, she agreed.

One by one, several found reason to approach her. Some while she was with their king, using the excuse of speaking with him to side-eye the Dökkálfr, others simply strode up and pestered her with their heavily-accented questions.

"Who are you?" asked a trio of young women with spears over their shoulders.

Simultaneously someone tugged on her sleeve, "Why are you here?"

Two friends whispered loud enough for Petra to hear, "What is wrong with her skin?"

"Where are you going?" demanded a stout, older Jotunn with a scar across his eye.

"Why does her hair look like clouds?" a younger male wanted to know.

Overwhelmed with attention, the poor elf did the best she could answering the curious giants.

There were, of course, the section of scowling Jötnar that avoided Petra as if she radiated intense heat. They frowned at her from across the settlement, their distaste clear. For a species seemingly preoccupied with meeting the most basic of needs, one would think there was little room for scorn in their culture. Petra was unpleasantly surprised to find this untrue.

Loki was showing her the way back to his tent when they heard a bitter snicker.

"Du hører ikke hjemme her, hore," hissed a pretty female as they passed.

Knowing that not everyone was going to like her, but taken aback by the woman's hostility, Petra turned to Loki. "What did she say?"

"Nothing," he said tersely, pushing Petra along with his hand possessively on her lower back. He snapped something over his shoulder at the giant and snow crunched beneath heavy stomps as she stalked off.

As they entered his tent, Loki headed for the bed and began pulling at the ties of his trousers. When she noticed the outline of his hard cock against the leather she took a step back. "What-Now? You want to do it now?"

"I have need."

"And I have decency! You know I can't… keep quiet. I'll give us away."

"Your screams echo just as loud during the day as they do at night."

Coming up short with a smart retort, Petra grumbled to herself and fumbled to remove her own clothes, folding them neatly and setting them on the floor near the bed. Loki caught her off guard when he hooked an arm around her middle, hauling her onto the mattress. She tried to keep her cry of surprise quiet, but she was fairly certain she'd failed.

Plopping her on all fours, he wrapped his hand around his ridged cock and began stroking while taking two fingers into his mouth. Petra's breath hitched when he kneed her thighs apart and worked his slick digits inside her, her back involuntarily arching as she raised her rear in offering. When he spoke, the smooth sound of his deep voice made her shiver.

"What is your objective?"

Despite the fact that he couldn't see her flaming face, she hid it against her arm. "Not to orgasm until after you do," she mumbled.

"Good skapning," he purred.

As his fingers pumped insistently inside her, easily coaxing her cunt awake, moisture flooded her entrance. The sounds of his fingers violating her made her wince, the noise only adding to her embarrassment. The bed creaked as she shifted uneasily, fighting down the pressure beginning to build in her lower belly. When his fingers brushed against the spongy patch of tissue and earned a guttural groan from the elf, she whined and tried squeezing him out.

"I-I'm not sure I can do this!"

"Can't do what?"

She twisted, glaring at him from over her shoulder. "I'm not sure I can… control it."

The corner of his mouth twitched as he gently forced his way back inside her pussy. "You'll learn to control yourself or I'll make you come so many times you won't dream of orgasming without my permission."

With another whine, she relaxed, allowing his fingers passage.

He crooked them, lightly teasing the spot that made her toes curl.

"You're doing that on purpose," she gritted.

"Doing what on purpose?"

"Making," she took a shaky breath, trying to concentrate, "it feel good."

Without turning around, she could sense his cruel smile.

"I'm merely preparing you. Would you prefer I not? I doubt that would be comfortable for either of us."

She moaned, half fueled by pleasure, half by frustration. When the tempo of his thrusting fingers increased, she scrambled forward, sighing in relief as his digits slipped from inside her. Chilly hands dug into the flesh of her hips, yanking her back with a low, feral growl.

"Be good, skapning, or I'll tie you down."

Whining softly, Petra backed up until she felt his hands on her rear. He let out a hum of approval and dipped his fingers into her entrance, scooping up moisture and smearing it on the head of his cock. Without a word, he pushed into her and she dropped her head forward, her breath audibly catching as he sank home. Immediately the heat in her belly began to build, worsening with each thrust.

Loki groaned as he watched his cock sink in with each thrust, admiring Petra's backside as she squirmed beneath him. She took his torment so well that he almost felt bad for teasing her so. Almost. His hips pumped slowly, letting the girl feel every individual groove and ridge on his cock as he pushed in and pulled out of her slick cunt. After several minutes of torture, the poor thing was shaking beneath him, her face buried in her hands as she shuddered each time her body shook with the force of his momentum. He could feel her spasming involuntarily, which made him increase his pace. It wouldn't take much to send her over the edge.

Smacking her ass with a satisfied grunt, he reared back and slammed his hips against her rear, letting his head fall back as he reveled in her heat. Drawing out once more, he repeated the act until she was keening, begging him not to fuck her so hard.

"I can't-Ah! I can't stop if you do it like that," she whimpered, her hips writhing to try and unseat him.

With another swat to her bottom he chuckled, which was more emotion that he intended to give away, but watching her try to hold back her orgasm was entertaining, especially when he knew he'd win this game.

Leaning forward, he pushed her shoulders down so she knelt with her ass in the air, giving him even more stability to fuck himself into her.

"Stop!" she cried.

He ignored her plea.

"Remember what I said, skapning. If you come before I do, I'll force so many orgasms on you that you won't think of coming without my permission ever again. I mean it."

When her entire body seized, he couldn't hold back a groan. She cried out, torn between pressing back against him and squirming away. Her baser instincts won out as she gripped the bed sheets and willingly took her fucking. Velvet walls rhythmically clamped down around his cock, making him dig his fingers painfully into her sides. She was making enough noise that if he hadn't ordered the bitch that had sworn at her to lead an impromptu trek into the forest, the entire camp would've heard her coming apart.

Her orgasm coaxed his own, his fingers leaving black bruises as his hips as he hammered against her rear. He shouted, falling forward over her and bracing himself on his forearms to keep from crushing the fragile elf. Both gasped for air, Petra's body shaking beneath his as she came down.

"I won't forget your disobedience. You're fortunate I was able to come so quickly after you."

He pulled out and flipped her over, dragging a pillow beneath her rear so her pelvis tipped upwards.

"You'll stay like this for now. I'll fetch you when enough time has passed for my seed to take root."

With a sleepy, wary sigh, Petra ignored the sticky slick between her legs and nodded, almost immediately drifting off into a fitful sleep filled with dreams of a wrathful Loki.

Later that night, Loki sank his teeth into a hindquarter of venison, tearing meat from bone as he studied Petra. She was speaking with the woman who had hosted her the two nights ago, talking animatedly and using her hands to bridge the language gap. The aloof woman was solemn, but open as Petra tried to charm her. She was… sweet for a Dark Elf, he supposed. Too kind to survive for long on Jötunheim. Weak, but likeable.

A gaggle of young Jötnar sat with the women, curiously watching the foreigner speak. When a chuckle sounded from the group, Loki felt his own lips curve slightly. It was good that his skapning got along with his people. If they didn't accept her, they wouldn't accept her child. Their child.

It had been ages since he'd had a baby. His last child, Leif had been grown and living with in the castle when a fever from Niffleheim had taken him. A fist wrapped around his heart as he reminisced, quickly swallowing down emotion.

It had been decades since Leif had been young. He vaguely recalled the warmth of holding his little one, the kind of warmth that didn't hurt him. Just a radiating glow that came from inside when looking down into the eyes his child.

Wiping at his face in frustration, he shook himself out of his sorrow and stood.

"Petra, come."

Her eyes flashed across the fire. He knew she didn't appreciate being ordered around like an animal, which was why he did it. As long as she felt uncomfortable, she'd remain submissive and malleable. Fondness and familiarity only brought defiance and independent thought, which his elf would not be allowed.

She rose and stalked to his side as he motioned for her to follow him and led her into his tent for the night. And another round of breeding.

Three days later, they had tried to conceive five more times since their second coupling. Petra was incapable of walking without a slight limp. The Jötnar king was well equipped and she'd been celibate for some time prior to slipping into his bed. The poor girl was sore, even when at rest.

She sat alone near a cooking fire, picking at the remains of that night's meal.

Boots ground down on fresh snow behind her. Wary of those that disliked her, Petra twisted.

Loki nodded at her and dropped to the ground beside her feet. He exhaled, letting his eyes slip closed.

"Tomorrow, we go home."

Petra swallowed a gulp of ale. She'd learned to enjoy the burn it ignited in her belly. "Home?"

When instead of answering she caught Loki eying her cup greedily, Petra sighed and handed it to him. He nodded, wiping his mouth after taking a draw. "Home to Utgard. To the capital. We have enough meat to fill our stores for winter."

She cocked her head, "For winter? It's always winter here."

His smile wasn't kind, more mocking. "My naïve little skapning. This is our autumn season. Actual winter you have yet to experience. If you thought you knew cold… Even Jötnar die during the deep freeze."

She shuddered and hauled her cloak closer around her shoulders, smoothing her hair beneath the hood. A shiver trembled through her and she realized Loki was watching her. She avoided his gaze, plucking at the hem of her simple, but warm, dress.

It was Loki that broke the silence by clearing his throat.

"They like you more than I expected."

With a mild pout, Petra's head snapped up.

"Do I thank you for something like that?"

Loki's mouth twitched and he shook his head, the beads in his hair clinking softly. "Were you another, perhaps. But not you. Not right now."

"What does that mean?"

He shrugged a shoulder, leaning back against the log she sat on.

"I'm inclined to give you liberties I deny most. A perk of sharing my bed, I suppose."

Petra rolled her eyes and drained her mug. "I'm so fortunate," slipped out before she could stop it.

His eyes narrowed, but there was a gleam of mirth in his gaze. "Caution, skapning. Just because I fuck you doesn't mean I won't punish you."

Cheeks stained dark crimson, she swallowed hard and nodded, staring at her hands. Sometimes her thoughts escaped her mouth before she could deem them worthy or not. With a tired sigh, Loki pushed up from the ground.

"Finish all of that," he pointed at her bowl of half eaten stew.

"Oh, I'm done—."

"You're growing my baby. You'll finish it."

Pursing her lips to keep more unbidden words from sneaking out, she nodded curtly and dipped her spoon back into the broth and brought it to her mouth.

"I'm eating, see?" She held up her bowl.

"Good girl. Come to my tent when you're finished."

Without another word he stalked off, leaving her alone muttering about "my" versus "our" tent.

The next morning wasn't a pleasant one. Petra had started out on her own mare, a dwarf compared to the rest of the animals the Jötnar rode. They'd bred Fjord horses to be taller and stronger than their Midgardian counterparts, and the easy-going beasts served them well. Petra's horse was pleasant enough, but her sensitive lady bits pressing against the hard leather was agonizing. She'd endured the discomfort in camp without so much as a whimper of pain, even when she and Loki had sex. But the movement of the horse's gait combined with the unforgiving saddle was reinforcing just how hard Loki had taken her during their time together.

Mortified at her own weakness, but so uncomfortable she couldn't stand it, she called to Loki. He turned on his horse and raised a brow, motioning her forward.

"What is it?"

"I can't-Um, I can't ride like this," she whispered.

He stared at her in confusion, irritably gesturing for her to elaborate.

"It hurts. I'm too sore to straddle the saddle."

A faint look of male pride crossed his features. With a smirk, he held up his hand, halting the caravan. Speaking with one of his men, Loki procured a plush pillow from one of the traveling chests. Setting the soft material in front of him, he scooted back in his saddle and beckoned Petra.

"Come here."

Confused, she dismounted and ambled to his side. When he held out a hand, clearly intent on swinging her up onto his horse, she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Just give me the pillow? Please. You're already making a bigger deal out of this than it should be. Now the entire camp practically knows more about my nether region than I do."

"No. The pillow will make you less stable. You'll need me for support."

Petra hesitated. He was right. And she wasn't a good rider to begin with. The last thing she wanted was to look weak in front of his people, which was exactly what she was doing, but she couldn't handle the pain for the rest of the trip.

Sighing, she took his hand and he pulled her onto his horse, settling her in front of him. His mount was several hands taller than hers and in a panic, she fumbled for a handful of the horse's mane. Loki made a frustrated growl and looped his arm around her middle, hauling her against his chest. She took a moment to settle, but eventually relaxed against him. Through her cloak she felt him go from frozen to mild. Squirming in his lap, she looked over her shoulder.

"Did you just change temperature?"

Between the unstable cushion of the pillow, the horse's bumpy steps and her squirming, Petra almost lost her balance.

"Tåpelig jente," he muttered as he tugged her back to his chest.

"Did you call me stupid?"

He let out a breathy chuckle against her ear. "Perhaps a variation of it."

Huffing, she fought the urge to cross her arms lest she fall.

"But really, did you get warmer?"

"The Jötnar are adaptable, to an extent. And I won't have my half-elven child frozen before he reaches his home."

That was fair. With a tired sigh she leaned back, letting her head rest on his shoulder. She could feel Loki stiffen, but couldn't see the surprise in his eyes, which was for the best. He needed to stay collected around the girl.

Confident that his horse knew the way home, he let his mind wander as he glanced at her hands. Picking up her wrist, he cradled her hand in his, tilting it back and forth to get a good look at her palm and fingertips.

"You're not changing color," he stated.

Baffled, Petra nodded, "You're right, I'm not."

"Do elves not change color once they've conceived? The extremities of Jötnar women become slightly violet."

"No, we don't change color. We get sick and crave odd foods. Sometimes elves get more violent and bloodthirsty than normal. Some just desire red meat."

"Interesting." A beat of silence passed. "You're sure they don't change color?"

She snorted. "Yes, I'm sure."

He seemed unsatisfied with her answer, but let it go.

"We'll get you odd foods and red meat. You'll want for nothing."

"I know," she murmured with a small smile.

Barbarian king or no, Petra felt safe with him. He'd take care of them.

As they drew near the castle, Petra stared in awe at their surroundings. The thickets turned into snowy open land, the terrain turning mountainous. There was a well worn trail of packed snow for the horses to follow that grew narrow enough that they were forced to go single file.

Through a pass, Petra saw a giant iron gate looming at least twenty feet high. Having spent the majority of the ride leaning on Loki, she sat up, more alert now that they were closer. As they closed in on the gate, a pair of watchmen let the hunting party through, bowing to their king as he passed.

Loki mostly ignored them, focused on getting his skapning home. The road was dangerous, even inside the city, no matter how fierce a warrior he was. He'd not have his chance at furthering his species killed or stolen by some true savage.

Petra twisted in the saddle in order to look at the simple houses sprinkled on either side of the widening road, all with chimneys puffing dark smoke. It was much quainter than she'd expected. She breathed a sigh of relief at having reached (more or less) civilization once again.