The next morning, Loki, Marit and his other counselors Hans, Inga, Gunnar and Lisbeth sat around the table in the Great Hall discussing relations with Nidavellir. The Dwarves had not responded well to the their representative failing to return home.
Loki drummed his fingers on the table. "I know it's a problem, but there's nothing we could have done differently. I'll not sacrifice this realm's future for a dwarf that can't keep his mouth shut."
Marit raised a brow. "If this happens again, be it with Nidavellir or another realm, it will draw undue attention. Bilgesnipe attacks killing envoys on more than one occasion? Highly unlikely. You need to keep her under a watchful eye."
"I know," he snapped. With a sigh, he rubbed his face. "I know. She's not easy to cloister, unfortunately."
"I didn't mean contain her, I meant watch her. Assign her detail."
"I think it would be best if she were confin—," started Gunnar.
"You don't confine a woman," interrupted Marit. "She'll go mad. She'll be resting enough with the pregnancy, spending additional time in that room is going to make her insane.".
The remaining four advisors looked from Marit to Loki. The king steepled his fingers against his lips, studying his lead advisor.
"Marit, you'll watch over her."
Marit sputtered. "I have things to do, I don't have time to take care of a child!"
"She's not a child. She's the mother of the future of our race and you'll do as I command. Am I not your king?"
The woman muttered about helpless children of only a few hundred years that can't do anything themselves. She completely understood Loki's reasoning and didn't disagree, she just didn't want to do it.
"Wouldn't a guard detail be more effective? They'd be better at watching her. I have actual things to do."
"Perhaps, but I trust you more. She stays with you when I don't have her under my watchful eye. This is not an argument, it's a decree."
Marit crossed her arms, fuming.
"Fine," she snapped. "But I'm not postponing my trip to the springs. She'll have to come along and I don't want to hear a word of objection from her. And if she falls off the damn horse, she's walking home."
Hiding a miniscule smile, Loki nodded and rose. "That will be all for today."
His advisors bowed, even a miffed Marit, and he set off to find his skapning.
Petra, to her credit, was thrilled to be leaving the castle. Though still leery of horses, she was able to appreciate that this time her nether regions weren't sore enough to warrant sitting on a cushion.
The group of women filed down the side of the mountain horse by horse, carefully making their way through the rough terrain.
"Keep up, Lady," Marit called over her shoulder.
Stuck at the rear on an old, sluggish horse was Petra. Her bored animal kept stopping to hoof at the snowy ground in search of grass, blatantly ignoring her as she tried to urge him forward.
Fed up with constantly waiting for Petra to catch up, Marit called her to the front. Petra's horse, Skål, neglected to respond to the Dökkálfr's jerky reining and was finally tethered to the advisor's horse.
After an hour of trekking down the steep mountainside with little conversation, Petra spoke.
"Are the springs where you grow food? The onions and herbs?"
Marit nodded, checking to ensure Skål's reins were properly tied to her saddle. "Among other things. We'll be hauling back most of the harvest today."
Petra glanced behind at the flock of women trailing behind them. "I thought the men did most of the physical work?"
Marit snorted. "What made you think that?"
"Well, when we went to the market, there were only women with us. I assumed they did most of the domestic tasks? And you cooked for your mate," she pointed out.
"Did you not see the women working on their boats?"
"I assumed they were help—."
"Helping the men?" Marit laughed and muttered something in her language. "Hardly. We are gathering the harvest with women because we work most efficiently together. Men are too hot-headed to join as a unit. They work best alone. Hunting is one of the few activities we do together, and that's because it benefits the Jötnar as a people. The men grit their teeth and cooperate with each other long enough to fill the stores, then they return to their ships and homes."
Surprised, Petra nodded as her belly rumbled. It made enough noise that Marit reached into her pack and pulled out a piece of jerky, tossing it to the elf. Mouth watering, she mumbled her thanks from around the food.
Full on jerky and snow-water, Petra patted her tummy contentedly, perking as their descent began to even out. The staccato of the horses' steps grew softer as sharp blades of grass stubbornly worked their way through the thick blanket of winter. As ice turned to dirt and sod, more greenery bloomed and cushioned the clonking hooves. Patches of snow still dotted the mountainside, but by the time they reached the fields, the majority of it had melted into the ground.
Petra's brows rose as the band stopped, looking out over the open space. The area before them was massive. The floor of the valley was sectioned into three zones; paddocks for animals took up a third, orchards spanned the tierce, and housing units populated the side opposite.
Marit stopped and twisted in her saddle.
"Get the stores from the cellars and pack them in the carts. Leave enough for an emergency and we'll transport the rest home."
The women set off down the hillside in pairs, leaving Marit and Petra to admire the pass below.
The fields themselves looked like stairs; staggered platforms jutted out from the sides of the mountains. Jötnar were scattered about the row upon row of planted greenery that scaled the sides of the peaks all the way down into the valley.
Marit nodded at the laboring farmers.
"This is the last harvest of the season. Winter will be here in several weeks. They've been working tirelessly all summer and autumn."
Marit pointed at the pools beyond the settlement. "The springs will stay open, heated by the earth from below, but the ground freezes so deep from above the arable land will be useless until winter ends.
Marit trotted into the development with Petra's horse loping after her. When she dismounted near a huge stables, Petra followed in suit.
The advisor exchanged greetings with another Jötunn woman standing near the barn. Petra couldn't understand them, but they seemed to be catching up. Her ears glowed pink when Marit nodded in her direction. The other woman's eyes came to rest on the girl and she raised a brow critically, then asked something in their language. Marit shrugged a shoulder and nodded as she replied. Petra got the sense Marit was saying something along the lines of 'she's the best chance we've got.'
The strange female called in the direction of one of the houses and a young male scurried outside. She pointed to the horses and he stuck his hands on his hips while firing back at her. Marit interrupted the man with a stern tone and his shoulders slumped as he trudged forward to untie Skål's reigns. He glared as he did so, causing Marit to snap something threatening.
Sulking, the Jötunn snatched the reins of Marit's horse too and led the animals off.
Petra stood awkwardly as the two women finished their conversation, trying to dissect their body language. Marit put her hand on the other woman's arm and her mouth twitched into something that almost looked like a smile. The Dökkálfr had a feeling that constituted as a relatively warm exchange.
Turning towards Petra, Marit beckoned.
"Come."
Muttering about not obeying orders like a dog, Petra followed the advisor towards a grassy paddock.
Out of breath from matching Marit's long strides, Petra asked, "Who was that?"
"My sister. And nephew," she said nonchalantly.
Petra's brows rose. She'd been right. What she'd witnessed had held an air of intimacy. She almost rolled her eyes at the stoic Jötnar siblings. Not that Dökkálfar embraced often, if at all, but there was at least some sense of affection between family members.
Approaching the fence, Marit gestured at something roughly bovine and shook Petra from her train of thought.
"That's the meat you've been eating."
The shaggy, humpbacked animals paid Petra and Marit no mind as they grazed, occasionally calling to one another.
"What are they?" asked the elf.
"Okser. Then there are thefjordhester, which you already know. We rode them here," she pointed to a pasture of dun colored horses grazing in a far off fenced area.
An okse loped over to the pair, snorting and tossing it's head. Marit fished in her bag for a treat and threw it to the animal. Greedily the beast snapped it up, exhaling loudly through its nose as it chomped. Marit pensively watched it wander off.
"The okser survive in both snow and sun, which is how we've made it through especially extreme winters. We augment with what we catch hunting. Many of the okser starve in the brutal cold, but they eat their dead and enough survive to keep us alive. They reproduce quickly, so we're able to keep their numbers up come spring."
Petra blanched. "They're carnivores? Cannibals?"
"They're… What is the word?" She racked her brain, then snapped her fingers. "Omnivores. Resourceful omnivores."
The elf swallowed down bile, eyeing the beasts with a new sense of horror. Their wooly coats and warm brown eyes were almost cute.
"Come. There's more to see."
Petra would've almost claimed Marit was eager to show her their innovations, but she was sure that was incorrect. It would take more than a progressive solution to the famine of bitter cold to excite the giant.
Marit took off again, motioning towards the fields as she stalked back towards the colony. She pointed to her left as they passed a portion of the mountain speckled with green leaves and flowering plants. "Over there are poteter and squash. They're the last vegetables we harvest. Soon the plants themselves will wither into nothing. We've already picked epler, druer, korn and hvete. It's been a good year. We'll be ready when winter comes."
Petra pushed her hair from her face and she surveyed the fields. From memory she recognized the translations for potatoes, squash, apples, grapes, corn and wheat. It was possible the Jötnar had more diversity in their crops than at home.
"How… How do you have all of this? When I was young we were taught Jötunheim was bleak and practically uninhabitable. How is it you've developed such an extensive farming system?"
Marit shrugged as they neared one of the homes, hauling open the doors to an underground cellar. "We've had to be creative. It took many lifetimes to develop this. For centuries we were nearly uninhabitable. Discovering the springs changed our way of life."
Both women descended into the dark of the hold, Marit's eyes adjusting faster than Petra's. As she got used to the murky gloom, the elf realized they weren't alone. Their travel companions were already arm-deep in produce, hefting fruit and vegetables into crates to take back to Utgard.
Marit said something in her language, and the women nodded and hauled the food out of the cramped cellar.
"We're lucky we're in the capital," she commented to Petra. "Loki sees to it that the rest of the realm's clans receive rations of meat and produce, but they mainly live off fish. Utgard eats much better than the rest of our world."
"Why don't more move to the capital?"
"Have you met a Frost Giant, Lady? We're stubborn and set in our ways. If your family had a homestead and ships, would you abandon them for comfort at the cost of your pride?"
"No, I suppose not."
As Marit began lifting sheaves of grain into her arms, she nodded at the back of the cellar.
"Be useful, Lady. Help them pack the food for the way home."
Petra ducked her head and began jostling apples into a crate, muttering half an apology for not offering to help.
Petra spent the ride home sleeping in one of the narrow carts next to the crop of turnips. Between the pregnancy and helping pack the harvest, she'd exhausted herself. Marit would never say so, but she was impressed with the elf. The girl was plucky, despite her many shortcomings.
The caravan made it back to the capital in several hours, and as the other women began unloading food, Marit carried a sleeping Petra to Loki's rooms.
Loki glanced up from a scroll as Marit knocked the door open with her hip.
"Did you break her?"
"Of course not. She's just weak and ran out of energy. Clearly your mating techniques aren't improving her stamina."
Loki didn't look up, but grunted in response. If only Marit knew.
Refusing to go through the trouble of opening another set of doors to get to Petra's private room, Marit deposited the Dökkálfr into Loki's bed. Crossing her arms, she turned to Loki.
"She did well today, considering her lack of physical prowess. She worked hard."
The corners of Loki's mouth twitched. "Goodnight, Marit."
With a huff, the woman quietly exited the quarters.
Loki roused Petra several hours later for a dinner of fresh okse and poteter. She pestered him with several questions about the springs, but Petra spent most of the meal ravenously downing her food after the exhausting day. Loki took the time to study her. He wasn't sure he approved of her laboring physically. Her bones themselves were weak compared to those of the Jötnar, not to mention her lacking musculature. She wasn't fit for dragging around large quantities of food. It was too likely she'd hurt herself trying to keep up. Not to mention the impending threat of desperate rogue Frost Giants as winder drew nearer.
"You'll have your own guard detail soon. I've decided I don't want you tromping through the wilderness with Marit any more than you have to. If I could watch you myself, I would, but I have more important things to do besides monitoring a child."
Chewing her bite of meat, Petra's eyes narrowed. She swallowed, "I'm not a child! And I made a single mistake. One, single mistake. I accidentally let the man from Nidavellir see me, and you close in on me like I'm a captive. I do not need a guard detail. I've learned from that particular experience and haven't burst in on any dinners since."
"In addition to your social faux pas, you're also incapable of defending yourself. You need someone to protect you."
"Teach me how to protect myself. It'll serve me much better in the long run."
Loki's lips pursed as they stared each other down. Breaking her gaze, he sighed.
"Another of my advisors, Lisbeth, used to lead my armies and excels at hand to hand combat. I suppose she would be a suitable mentor."
Marit fought to keep from smiling in glee. She was sick of being told how feeble and defenseless she was. And to be taught by a woman, who might even have something resembling social skills? That would be a treat.
"The men don't do physical labor, they don't lead your army. What can they do?"
"In the army, the men carry out solo tasks, such as assassinations. A select few with exemplary self-control fight with the women."
Petra raised a brow. "And you? Where do you fight?"
Loki narrowed his eyes. "With the women, of course."
"Of course," Petra murmured with a smile. Obviously he'd see himself as having 'exemplary self-control.'
"Is something funny, skapning?"
It took most of her concentration to keep her grin from spreading. She shook her head. "Nothing."
He raised his chin skeptically, but let it go. His gaze settled on the elf, eyes zeroing in on her chest.
"Now that it's been brought up, we have training to complete tonight."
Petra brightened. "Fighting?"
Loki's mouth twitched. "Not quite. Take off your clothes."
Frowning, Petra set her utensils on her plate and rose. She pulled the sleeves off her shoulders and shimmied out of her dress. Still standing in her underclothes, she glanced at Loki with uncertainty.
"Off," he waved at her.
Fighting the urge to growl at his autocratic manner and the abandonment of her dinner, Petra slipped out of her undergarments and crossed her arms over her chest.
Loki moved to the bed, seating himself on the edge of the mattress. Sighing as though severely taxed by her inability to move without command, Loki beckoned her forward. She trudged towards his outstretched hand, which guided her between his legs. He tilted his head to the side with an exhale as he brushed a finger over her collarbone and down her cleavage, knocking her hands away from her chest.
"We have to get you acclimated."
Trying to act removed despite a shiver, she flipped her silver-white hair over her shoulder. "Acclimated for what?"
"For the baby. For feeding. Jötnar children have an especially strong suckle. It's best to prepare you for it now."
"What are you ta—Ah!"
Loki had leaned forward and sealed his cool mouth around an extra sensitive nipple, watching her reaction as he sucked. She stared down at him, her hands poised to push him away as her brow crinkled in confusion.
"But there's no-Why are you-?"
He pulled away with a pop, his tongue flicking out to lick his lip. "I told you, skapning. I'm acclimating you to the robust nursing strength of our child."
Petra's breath hitched as he sucked her pebbled nipple back into his mouth. She squeezed her thighs together, suppressing a whine. Her brain was short circuiting. Each time his cheeks hollowed, tiny bolts of electricity shot between her legs and it was making her dizzy. Loki attacked her chest with such greed that she clung to his shoulders to keep herself steady.
She stood between his knees as he sat on the foot of the bed. He was nearly bent in half to reach her chest, his hands spanning her ribcage as he held her still. Her own fingers scrabbled against his back, seeking something to grasp when he released her nipple with a wet suckle.
"You are so small," he grunted, pulling away and stretching his back until it was straight.
Petra rolled her eyes. She was average height and weight for a Dark Elf. He was just gargantuan. It wasn't her fault their height difference proved a problem even when he sat.
Slipping his hands beneath her arms, Loki reclined and hauled Petra onto his chest. She yelped, barely keeping their faces from knocking when she caught her palms flat against the bed above his shoulders. Ignoring her wide eyes, Loki hitched her up higher until her breasts were level with his face. Her core sat on his upper belly and she shifted with an embarrassed grimace. He'd soon feel the effect of his mouth on her chest if she stayed where she was.
He settled on his back, using his grip around her waist to move her as needed. His lips surrounded her areola once more, tugging as he sucked.
Hissing when his teeth pinched the tender bud, Petra awkwardly tried to balance herself while Loki's mouth assaulted her front. Her brows raised when his lips deviated, wandering to her chest and leaving deep purple bruises along her breasts and clavicle. He accented his attentions with sharp nips, making her breath catch. She frowned. There was nothing to 'acclimate' higher up on her chest. She couldn't help but feel as though he were simply marking her, which was a possessive, but often affectionate act...
Her heart thudded as his lips dragged back to a nipple, working it with his tongue until it was firm and swollen. Swallowing hard, she tried to keep her hips from circling. The pressure between her legs was nearly unbearable and she'd have to do something about it soon, but she'd be damned if Loki knew his "training" aroused her.
Tucking her chin, she watched him work. His enthusiasm was overwhelming. Loki was completely absorbed in her chest. Giving her nipple a firm suckle, he released her with a smack of his lips.
He spoke, lips still connected with her skin as he murmured against her breast. "I can feel you dripping, skapning." Tongue darting out, he teased her with lazy, languorous licks.
Cheeks glowing with embarrassment, Petra ignored him. Responding would only encourage him to goad her further, and her state of mind was deteriorating with each draw of his mouth. She'd sorely lose any argument that stemmed from their situation.
Exhaling in irritation, Loki gripped her hips and forced her to rock against his muscled abdomen. Her breath caught as her core ground against him, her head tilting back as she tried to mask a groan with a cough. She failed, emitting an muffled cry as her wet slit rubbed against his cool skin.
He absently coaxed her hips into a steady rhythm, and unable to help herself, Petra gave in. As she moved of her own volition, he switched nipples. One hand stayed on the first breast to placate the Dökkálfr in his arms while his lips suctioned around the other. She keened as he nibbled and licked, his other hand overwhelming her with sensation.
Her hips swiveled unconsciously, grinding her bare center against his lower chest. She felt the vibrations of his moan against her flesh and almost let out a noise that matched his.
She peered down at him, intoxicated by his talented mouth and his knowledge of the inner workings of touching a woman's breasts. When he pulled away to study his handiwork, she flushed and stared at the wall ahead, unwilling to meet his gaze should he look up at her. She didn't want to be held accountable for her own lewd actions.
Loki ignored her discomfort and admired her turgid nipples, straining into the air for more attention. He gave them each a final draw, then pulled away.
"That's enough acclimation for tonight."
Relieved, horrified, and disappointed, Petra tried to climb off him. Lifting her like a doll, he flipped them easily before she had a chance to escape. He held her still with a hand around her throat and the girl spooked, eyes wide as he peered down at her. She didn't realize she'd done something wrong?
When she tried to writhe, his grasp tightened. Petra immediately stilled, gripping the sheets to keep from provoking him by grabbing his wrist. She became acutely aware of her breaths as she panted, her airway threatened by Loki's grip.
With a gentle squeeze, he spoke. "Be still."
Petra swallowed hard and jerked her chin in understanding.
Staring up into the embers of his eyes made her core ache, so she let her lids flutter closed, her body relaxing beneath his. Though his fingers had gone slack around her throat, her lips remained parted as her choppy, uneven breathing continued.
She started when a set of teeth pinched her lower lip. The pain was instantly soothed with a cool tongue laving the sting. As Loki sucked her lower lip into his mouth, she stared at his face, blinking as his elegant brows furrowed in what could, in no way, be passion. An act on his part inspired by feeling would've been absurd.
He casually toyed with her mouth, tongue flicking against hers and gliding along her teeth as she lay dumbfounded. When he pulled away, her heart sank. He'd ended the kiss before she'd fully processed what was happening. She clenched her jaw and kept from eagerly following his retreating mouth, looking away as he stared down at her with a smirk.
"Skapning."
Frowning, her eyes flicked back to his.
"Reciprocate," he growled as his lips descended once more.
Her breath hitched, brow crinkling in confusion as he took her mouth again. His canines nipped her lower lip, causing her to give a muffled cry. She could feel him smile as he kissed her firmly, lapping at the tiny lesion.
He grunted unhappily when she remained still, but just as he was about to bite her again, Petra's brain connected with her mouth. Still in a daze, her tender lips accepted his tongue, nudging at it with her own as a slack arm tentatively lifted from the bed and wrapped around his neck.
His groan vibrated through their kiss, coaxing a moan of her own. She struggled beneath him and the hand around her throat tightened. She ignored it in lieu of working her legs out from beneath him and wrapping them around his waist.
Once he realized her intent, his grasp lessened and he refocused on taking her mouth. She rocked beneath him, her naked core slickening the fabric of his shirt. Her heels dug into his lower back as she feverishly tried to rub against him with a whine.
He pulled away, his features morphing into a haughty expression as he gazed down at her.
"What do you want, skapning?"
Petra pulled away. When did he ever ask what she desired? She never had a say when they mated.
"I-I don't know?"
He smirked. "There's nothing you want in this moment?"
Cheeks tinged crimson, Petra narrowed her eyes. She didn't appreciate being humiliated. "I would like sex."
"Tell me more. Be explicit, Petra. Otherwise I can't give you want you want."
Eyes squeezed shut, she tried to articulate her desire.
"I want—."
"Open your eyes."
She winced as her lids rose, afraid he'd mock her in her vulnerable state. "I want you to fuck me," she whispered.
He stared for a moment before rising to his knees, centering his hips over hers. He rested part of his weight on her, making Petra sigh in contentment as his clothed erection pressed against her core. She tried to arch her back, desperate for friction.
With a grunt, he pulled at his trousers, untying and kicking them off, freeing his cock in the process. He watched her face scrunch in pleasured pain as he plunged into her, emitting a low groan.
She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to him penetrating her. His ridged cock was just too thick upon impact. But Norns, once he was inside her, once she'd adjusted, she never wanted him to leave. The silky flesh pumped in and out as she struggled with what to do with her hands. She wanted to bury them in his hair, to wrap them around his horns or to simply cling to him, but she didn't think he'd be receptive of any of that. Instead, she pushed up off the bed on her elbows and attached her mouth to his once more.
This time Loki's eyes opened in surprise, but he recovered quickly and easily took control of the kiss. His hand migrated from her neck to her jaw, cupping her face and moving her as he pleased. Their noses knocked as he constantly repositioned them, his tight grip on her cheek and jaw comforting in an odd way. She felt safe beneath him.
Distracted by the kiss, her breath left her lungs when he gave her an especially rough pounding. She squirmed beneath him, latching on to his body with all her might. As she began moaning on each exhale, Loki lifted his face, watching her steadily as she fell apart. With an extra rough thrust, she broke, a wail soaring from her lips as she seized beneath him. Vaguely she realized she lacked his permission, but it felt too good to stop.
Collapsing beneath him, her chest heaved as she gasped for breath. Loki pushed up off her, planting his knees on the bed and slipping his arms beneath her legs, hauling her pelvis into his lap. The strength of each impact, his forcing their hips together by bucking forward and yanking her against him, caused her to squeal as her sensitive clit was caught in the crossfire. He ignored her, taking his pleasure with a hiss.
Halfheartedly her hips twitched, struggling to find a position that wouldn't inevitably cause a second orgasm, but his cold fingers cruelly dug into her skin as he glared down at the elf.
"Still," he rumbled.
Petra had yet to regain control of her facial muscles, and all she managed in response was a swallow and a jerky nod. Her eyes flickered back as Loki began thrusting with long, steady strokes that grew faster and faster, each pump of his hips causing his cock to brush against a sensitive spot inside her. When she cried out and seized, he braced a huge palm against her chest, pinning her in place as his hips rammed against hers. The brutal slap of skin on skin accompanied by rough panting filled the room was accented by Loki's abrupt shout as he emptied himself inside Petra.
Both of them took a few moments to regain use of their limbs, and she watched his face darken as he rested inside her. Wiping his brow, Loki pulled out without looking at down. He flopped onto his side with his back to her, too tired to evict the elf from his bed, despite the unsettling level of intimacy they'd just reached. Well-buried habits from his time on Asgard gnawed to be set free; faint instincts to touch and hold her. Grinding his teeth, he forced the urges back into the depths of his unconscious and closed his eyes.
Petra lay panting for a moment, catching her breath and watching him for signs of life. Aside from his expanding ribs, there were none. He was either working very hard to disregard her or sleeping. Furious at the tears prickling her eyes, she quietly slipped from his bed and padded to her room. She wouldn't sleep where she was unwanted, despite her desire to be close to him. Angrily dashing away the moisture, she curled up in her own bed.