Staring out over the arctic sea, Petra sighed as she waited to be set free. Ever since their arrival to Utgard she'd been cooped up in Loki's quarters and was getting stir crazy. Today she'd been promised not only freedom from Loki's rooms, but an outing.
She watched a giant Albatross dive repeatedly, resurfacing each time with a beak full of fish. The raging waves that crashed against the mountainous cliffs made her shift uncomfortably, despite the distance.
Prior to being dumped on Jötunheim, she'd never seen a the sea. Svartalfheim had oceans, of course, but she'd never been to the coast.
Petra jerked out of her thoughts when a raspy voice called from the doorway.
"Lady, are you ready?"
The Jötnar struggled to pronounce 'P's'. 'Lady' was easier to say than 'Petra,' and most of those in service to Loki defaulted to the easier moniker. With a wary glance at the tumultuous water, she hauled her cloak around her shoulders. "Coming!"
Stuffing her bare feet into clunky fur-lined boots, the elf trudged from her personal room in Loki's chambers towards the hollering voice.
A flock of Jötnar women from the hunting camp, accompanied by Loki's lead advisor, Marit, herded Petra from the castle down near the harbor, steering her on foot as they wandered into the city market. The staggering space was packed with bodies and goods. Stalls crammed with tools, clothing and animals spattered the rocky seashore, creating thin alleys for customers to walk through. The group waded into the chaos, the sounds of bartering and interaction prompting Petra to uncomfortably cross her arms. The livelihood of the market outweighed that of the hunting camp. The shouts and calls of these giants were spirited compared to the quiet environment of the base where she first encountered the Jötnar.
As they neared the shore, cluttered with fishermen and women tethering their boats and gutting their catch on the docks, Petra wrinkled her nose.
"What's that stench?".
Marit squinted at the elf, sniffing the air. "Oh, that? It's fish, Lady. You've never smelled it before?"
Petra made a face, "Never. It's awful."
Marit shrugged a shoulder, "You get used to it."
The Dökkálfr grimaced with a nod, making a mental note to avoid touching anything that came from the sea.
The noise faded as they drew near the coastline, the shouts and chatter dissipating into the air and Petra's muscles unclenched, her arms dropping loosely to her sides as she relaxed.
The women surrounding her stayed occupied. One traded sea glass for a loaf of bread while Marit haggled with a shop owner over two enormous snow geese. Purchase made, the advisor shoved the birds at a spluttering Petra as she stalked off to another stall stocked with nets and hooks. She returned a moment later with a box the size of her hand.
"My mate, he fishes," she explained, holding up the container.
Wrestling with the poultry, Petra managed a nod, trotting to keep up with Marit as she bustled off to the next shop along the shore.
By the time they made their way back to the inland market, word that the Dark Elf had come out of concealment had spread. Conversations halted mid-sentence as Petra's group passed, both speakers rendered speechless by the exotic foreigner. Her white hair and dark blue-gray skin stuck out against the purer indigo flesh of the giants.
The shift of attention was palpable, leaving Petra feeling horribly vulnerable. She clutched the geese to her chest as each pair of red eyes locked onto her.
Recovering from their initial shock, most villagers leaned in to whisper in a frenzy. Others merely glared, and Petra heard a few utterances of the word 'hore' which she assumed had the same meaning as it did in the common language. It appeared as though she had a reputation already.
As hostility escalated, Petra stepped closer to Marit, who was busy staring down some especially aggressive townspeople. Petra's gaze kept flitting to either side of the alleys, afraid of launched rotten food or worse coming her way. Her companions stayed close, their hands wrapped around the axes and daggers on their belts in warning to those they passed.
The warmth of the birds under her arms was grounding as they walked into the village, her steps as quick as her clumsy boots allowed. Petra jerked when a cool hand grasped her upper arm, sighing in relief to find Marit close to her side.
"We're almost to town. Just a little while longer," she reassured the elf.
Pursing her lips, Petra mumbled something affirming and hustled to keep up with the group.
The other women returned with their purchases to their respective homes as Marit led Petra to her personal dwelling. Without a word Marit plucked one white goose from the other woman's arms and snapped it's neck.
Petra cried out at the woman's brutality. She staggered backwards. "You killed it!" She held the other honking bird to her chest.
Marit blinked. "Of course I killed it. It's dinner. Give me the other."
Stunned, the elf took another step back, shaking her head.
Fingers still wrapped around the dead goose's neck, Marit planted her fists on her hips and exhaled, eyes narrowed. "Fine. Jens is not going to like you if his lunch is mostly broth tomorrow."
With a sigh of defeat, Petra cradled the living bird, idly stroking the feathers of its wing. She thrust it toward Marit, scowling and clapping her hands over her ears to escape the crunching sound as Marit wrung it's neck. Stomach rolling, she let her hands drop to her sides after the bird went limp.
Marit slung each lifeless bird over her shoulder.
"I will pluck them. I'll go outside for your sake. I'm being very hospitable."
Marit nodded at the dwindling flames illuminating a small fireplace near the center of the house. "Tend to the fire, then fetch a pot of snow to melt for stew. I'll be back soon."
The Jötunn brusquely vacated the home, leaving Petra alone and slightly flustered.
"Norns," she grumbled, ambling to the fireplace and plopping a few logs on top of the smoldering embers. Despite not knowing what she was doing, she prodded at the fire with a stoker as she'd seen others do, emitting a contented hum at the heat radiating from the pit.
Fire roaring, Petra stood on her tiptoes to unhook a large pot dangling from a hanging rack. There were only two to choose from, and she grabbed the larger. The Jötnar lived simpler than the Dökkálfar. It was nice, in a way. Fewer trivial possessions, less desire for elaborate organizational schemes and displays. There were no servants scurrying about, at least not in town, making beds with obnoxiously ornate frames and clanging pots and pans together as they worked. Petra wasn't used to labor like this, if one could consider it that, but found she didn't mind.
Spotting a nearby snowbank, she lugged the pot over and scooped handfuls of snow into it. Hauling it back inside was a much more physical endeavor, but she managed.
When Marit returned, Petra averted her gaze, mindful of the now-dead creatures swinging from her arms that she'd carried living not long ago. Slinging the two birds onto the kitchen table, Marit set about gathering ingredients. From small potted plants she cut herbs and gathered onions from a basket near the wash basin. Dropping the vegetables in front of Petra along with a knife, Marit continued shuffling about.
"Chop those," she called from the fireplace.
Petra stared with wide eyes at the food in front of her. "How do you have fresh vegetables?"
"We grow them."
Petra frowned, shaking her head. "I mean how… where did you grow them? Isn't the ground frozen?"
Marit scoffed and motioned with her fire poker through the window. "Of course the ground is frozen. Dum jente," she grunted, turning back to the flames.
Still confounded, Petra started cutting the herbs. "The elements should kill anything that attempted to take root. You have potted herbs, but no garden in here. And where did you get soil?"
"There are geothermal pools that heat the earth to appropriate farming temperatures. They're near the cirque opposite of the way you arrived. I'll show you soon. We'll need more supplies."
Petra blinked. Marit said things so plainly she felt dumb for even asking. Of course there was arable land. Of course they farmed. What else would their animals eat? How else would they survive?
Marit interrupted Petra's thoughts by waggling a spoon in her direction.
"Boil the snow, Lady."
The lines on Petra's face relaxed as she grew distracted. The elf poked at the melting snow, stirring idly as her mind returned to her experience near the shore.
"Why was everyone so angry at me today? Everyone in the market?"
Marit didn't look up from her work at the table, but she did stop fussing with the geese to wipe her hands. "Because you're not Jötnar, yet you have value to the king," The giant shrugged a shoulder and rubbed her brow with a forearm. "Loki is a good, but aloof and distant ruler. They're envious that a foreigner has his attention."
"I-I'm not sure I'd say I'm of value to him. I might hold some mild importance in regards to a strategic plan, but not value."
Marit glanced up, raising a brow critically. "Here, that's the definition of having value."
Petra muttered under her breath about value being something typically demonstrated through appreciation before moving on. "The hunting camp wasn't like this. People-Well, I'm not sure they liked me, but they tolerated me."
"I don't think all Jötnar hate you. Just the villagers."
Sagging, Petra grimaced as Marit began cutting the meat into pieces. "Why am I so offensive to those in town but acceptable to the hunters?"
"The people…," Marit motioned with her knife at the village through the window, "They have known the struggle of hunger and infertility. But they don't search for a solution. They want things the way they've always been, Frost Giant mated with Frost Giant. A pure race."
The advisor sighed, tilting her head as she collected the bits of goose. "The hunters, they understand functionality, ingenuity. Not hunting isn't an option. If one method fails, you try another. It's that simple."
"So I'm just another way to behead a bilgesnipe," Petra muttered.
"Well-Yes, I suppose."
Petra's gut twisted as Marit reminded her of just how disposable she was. She was a vessel to these people, and nothing more.
"Stir in the herbs," Marit ordered.
Automatically Petra sprinkled the chopped pieces into the water, pulling back as Marit neared to deposit the goose meat.
"We'll eat well tonight. It's not always that way, but things are good. The animals are fat and stores full."
Well, at least something was going right.
"Help me clean up," Marit said, tossing a rag at Petra. She caught it clumily, barely managing to wrangle it before wiping off the table. Jötnar manners certainly differed from Dökkálfar. Dinner with Marit and her mate would be interesting.
Later that evening, Petra found Loki lounging in his quarters with a book. He looked up when she entered, blinked, then his eyes returned to the page.
"Marit said she fed you," he said.
Still growing accustomed to abrupt Jötnar manner of conversation, Petra was caught mildly off-guard. "Um, yes. She did. We made stew."
When he remained silent, she started towards her portion of Loki's rooms. They consisted of a small chamber with a simple bed and dresser. Before she took three steps, Loki called out.
"I'm not finished. Come here."
Dropping the sack filled with a little pouch full of Jötnar coins and a few shells she'd found along the beach, she warily retraced her steps.
"Take off your cloak."
She lacked the energy and motivation to argue. Petra tugged her cloak off her shoulders, pausing to hang it on a hook near the doorway. She could feel Loki's eyes on her, and waited several beats before turning around. As she'd predicted, he was staring at her.
"You need to eat more. You're scrawny," he mused. He rested his chin on his fist. "I wonder if you really are fit to carry my child?"
Taken aback, Petra raised her chin and widened her stance. She needed to remain important. Her life depended on it. "I can do it."
Loki smirked, which only served to irritate her. "Let me see you."
"I-What? I'm standing in front of you."
"Take off your clothes."
After a spit second of hesitation, she complied. His being bossy when it came to sex wasn't new. Muttering to herself, Petra quickly shucked off her dress and boots, standing with her back to Loki. She plodded to the bed with her arms wrapped across her chest, waiting for him to follow. Glancing over her shoulder, her cheeks glowed as she saw him lazily untether his trousers and wrap his fist around his half-hard cock. He cleared his throat and she realized she'd been staring. Embarrassed, she lifted a leg to climb onto the high mattress, eager to put distance between them, however short lived, when he interrupted her.
"Stop."
"What?"
"Face me."
Her stomach fluttered as she rotated so her side faced Loki. Crossing one leg over the other, she hugged her chest. His eyes, usually narrowed in a frown or glare, were relaxed as he studied her. Petra squirmed as they roamed over her body. The king had never looked so appraisingly at her. He'd only spent a moment evaluating her body their first time, and she shifted uneasily, looking at the floor.
"No. Face me."
The sharpness of his voice left no room for argument. Clutching her chest, Petra swiveled until she was thoroughly in view. Loki traced his lower lip with his index finger, humming as his eyes studied her dainty feet, moving up her calves and thighs until her crossed legs halted his examination.
"Stand up straight."
"This isn't… Are we not having sex?"
Loki tapped his lip as his brow arched. "Stand up straight, Petra."
Pursing her lips, she slowly parted her clenched thighs a fraction.
"Do as I say or I'll position you myself."
Her chest tightened as her blush worsened, spreading from her cheeks down her chest. Arms flopping to her sides in defeat, she clenched her fists as she stood normally. "Is this what you want? To assess my body like I'm an animal?"
The corner of his mouth quirked as he rose and casually stalked forward. She froze as he neared, gaze flitting to the ground.
"Look at me." His voice was ice.
Gaze blurred with uncertainty, she obeyed. He smiled, a cruel expression that only served to unsettle her further.
"I want to see your shame, skapning."
Staring at him while he appraised her was worse than being called out for being half human in front of the Dökkálfar court. The sexual aspect of this was utterly humiliating. She felt lower than a whore. At least most whores were purebred. His eyes bored into her, coaxing goosebumps to break out across her skin.
"What do you want?" she sighed.
"I told you," he murmured, the corners of his mouth still turned up. "To see your shame."
Fingers trailing down her neck, Loki stopped over her fluttering pulse.
"Do you think yourself… pretty? Your face? Your body?"
Her stomach dropped. She knew she wasn't attractive by Jötnar standards. She was too little, too frail. Her hair and skin were the wrong shades and her height was pathetic. Throat growing tight, she shook her head, eyes on her feet.
The king tutted her. "Look. At. Me. I'll not ask again."
Eyes stinging with tears, she glared up at him.
"Ah, there's that fire." Loki traced her clavicle. "Never lose that, Petra," he murmured.
Fighting the urge to swat his hands away, she remained silent. Her cheeks continued to burn with shame as his eyes roamed. She desperately wanted to retreat to her room. It was enough to know he didn't find her attractive, but she felt utterly repulsive under his current scrutiny.
Inspection complete, Loki pointed to the bed. Without a word, she followed the silent command and crawled onto the mattress, propping herself up on all fours.
Loki ran his hand along the length of her spine. "As appealing as you look this way, I'm going to have you in another manner."
Before she could ask what he meant, he flipped her onto her back. She yelped, slamming her legs shut and crossing an arm over her heaving chest as they came face to face.
"This-this isn't how we do this," she stuttered.
"We do this however I want, and tonight, I want to see your face. Unless, of course, you'd rather sit in my lap? We both know how that turned out last time."
A shiver crawled up her spine as she relaxed, her thighs spreading a few inches and her arm falling to the bed. Gravity tilted her face to the side and she stared at the wall. Loki briefly ignored her passivity in favor of running his fingers over the delicate skin of her inner thighs.
"I've only ever done this with my mate."
He was mated. With another woman. When a horrified expression crossed her face, he laughed. "Calm, skapning. She's been gone for many years."
Her tensed body relaxed with a sigh. She couldn't compete with another Jötunn woman for his attentions. Replaying his words in her head, she frowned.
"You've only done what with your mate?"
Loki ignored her in lieu of wetting two fingers with his tongue and slipping them inside her. Petra's hips arched off the bed and she cried out in surprise. He grinned down at her, using the broad palm of his free hand to pin her hips to the bed. Heart pounding, she struggled. The way he looked at her was terrifying. He was feeding off her expressions and reactions, which she couldn't hide as his began thrusting his fingers. The position was far too vulnerable.
"This isn't what I agreed to!"
"Relax. You'll only be able to think for another minute or so."
Sputtering, she angrily smacked the mattress and laid back, staring at the vaulted ceiling.
Loki withdrew his fingers and issued a smart slap to her pussy.
"What part of 'look at me' is difficult for you to understand?"
Face threatening to crumple, she bit down on her cheek and lowered her eyes to meet his. He stared at her intently, watching every twinge of her brow and twitch of her lips. It was enough to be exposed like this, but to know he didn't find her attractive was simply humiliating. She felt like a disappointing specimen.
"That's better."
He withdrew his finger and took his cock in his hand, giving it a few pumps. When she realized he intended to fuck her while on her back, Petra whimpered. What had she done to warrant this kind of punishment? She'd had sex like this before, but with meaningless partners that were likely picturing someone else as they fucked her. Loki was not picturing someone else. He was looking at her too hard, his gaze patronizing.
"Little skapning," he sighed.
Glancing down, he ran the head of his length between her folds, stopping at her clit to rub against it. The slippery precome and the pressure of his cock felt more heavenly than she'd like to admit, so she bit her cheek until it bled to keep from making noise. She refused to validate him while he humiliated her.
His voice startled her out of her thoughts.
"You're just a little lost Dökkálfr without me, aren't you? I give you purpose. Carrying my child is an honor. Do you know how many Jötnar women would quite literally kill to be in your position?"
Forcing herself to go numb in an attempt to survive whatever verbal assault he was conducting, she shook her head.
"Many," he said.
"Good for you."
A laugh rumbled in his chest and he shook his head.
"Good for you, rather." He eased himself inside, groaning as her tight walls clutched his length.
Petra inhaled sharply, cursing under her breath. He wasn't finished demeaning her yet. He had to knock her down even further, forcing pleasure on her. Her pussy throbbed around him making him hiss as he slid against her walls.
Lazily he began pumping.
"The night you arrived, I would've turned you away without a second thought. I wouldn't have felt guilt. But you were stubborn and feisty and I wanted to have you. So I made you mine."
Petra pushed off the bed as best she could, brows raised in surprise.
"What?"
"Centuries ago I inhabited Asgard. Traditional beauty isn't lost on me. You may not be a warrior, but you're certainly a woman."
Spluttering, Petra shook her head. "I thought you found me repulsive—!"
With a sharp thrust, Loki knocked the air from her lungs.
"Quiet, skapning. We're not having a conversation. I'm merely enlightening you."
Gasping for breath, she grunted as he hit that spot that made her see stars, damning her body for falling victim to him with such ease. She kept her mouth shut, grinding her teeth in an effort to limit noises insisting to make themselves heard.
No longer interested in words, Loki began jerking his hips in earnest. Each time his cock passed through her entrance forced her a step closer to an orgasm. Since his proclamation that she only come with his permission, she'd managed to succeed so far. But, something about the debasing tone he'd taken with her was causing an unseemly reaction. He'd been speaking of her as if she were an object. His object. Though in that moment she very much tried to hate him, the idea sparked heat low in her belly.
The prospect of carrying his child did make her feel important. It was an honor. He was a powerful man that people feared and revered. It was impossible not to be attracted to that. And the fact that he didn't find her displeasing was slightly overwhelming.
A brisk snap of the hips knocked her out of her thoughts, prompting a moan.
"Do you like knowing you please me? More than another woman has pleased me in centuries?"
It was hard to ignore him with their eyes locked, but she managed. With a growl, Loki gripped her waist and slammed their hips together. "Do you?"
Crying out in pleasured pain, she managed a nod.
"Good."
With that, he pulled back, almost leaving her cunt, before plummeting into her pussy once again. She screamed as his pubic bone ground harshly against her clit, making her walls flutter.
Her eyes had rolled back and it took a moment for her vision to return and when it did, he was smiling at her again.
"You're easy to please. I do appreciate that, I hope you know."
His thrusts resumed, the sound of skin on skin echoing in his chambers. The slick of her cunt aided his rapid pumping, which sent them both closer and closer to completion. Petra began to whimper, biting her tongue in an attempt to distract from the fire blooming in her belly. Just as she was about to struggle away from him, he spoke.
"Come, skapning."
With a wail she lost all sense of being for several moments, floating blissfully in pleasured nothingness as her walls contracted around his cock. With a low growl his hips jackhammered against hers, likely leaving bruises for her to find tomorrow. He erupted inside her, his come flooding her insides and leaking out as he continued to fuck her.
Both panting, Loki took a moment to gather himself before pulling out. Without a second look at his bedmate he stretched, his back cracking as he sighed contentedly. Striding back to his chair, he picked up his book and resumed reading while Petra caught her breath on the bed. She wasn't sure what she'd done wrong to make him leave like that. Shaking her head in disbelief, she ignored the mess between her legs and rolled over and tried to sleep.