He was cold, so she held him, the pair of them nestled deep under the furs on the bed. Angrboða wrapped herself around Loki's spine and stroked his cool skin, her touch slow and soothing as they lay together though a dark hour, not speaking. She waited for her unresisting princeling to stir, knowing that his emotions warred with his curiosity, and the latter would win out soon.
"What if I give back the stone?" came his tired whisper.
She smiled in the dark. "That would be foolish, son of shadow, because I would not, will not take it. This accord cannot be un-struck by the return of the Singasteinn."
He shifted, and she let go of him. Loki rolled to his back, staring upwards, not meeting her eyes, and in the dim light Angrboða watched his profile. "What if I . . . will not perform?"
"Will not, or cannot? There is a difference," she replied with amusement, well-aware that under the bear pelt over them his young body was aroused in spite of his words.
"Either."
"Ah. Well if you will not, then I will wait until you are asleep and visit your dreams, lordling. I will turn them into slow, sweat-drenched fantasies of such erotic power that you will have no choice but to succumb and give me what is mine."
Loki's lean frame shuddered, and she could not tell if it was with desire or fear. It didn't matter.
"A-and if I cannot?"
Angrboða gave a little laugh. "Then I will build your pyre and send you to Valhalla since the only way that would happen would be if you were dead, son of ice. Your prick rises as faithfully and unstoppably as the sun each morning despite yourself, and its appetite is strong."
"Yours is a cruel snare," Loki growled uncomfortably. "How do I know my prick will still be mine afterwards?"
"Because it would do me no good without the rest of you attached to it," Angrboða teased quietly. "Listen to me and set your conceit aside for a moment—four seasons with you are my fate, and I am too wise to spend them in loathing and distrust as the time passes. Give me our children and I will show you dark seiðr the like of which Frigga has never known. With it, your sorcery will bring worlds to your feet and make the stars bow to you. All I ask in return is your obedience in our time together."
"Obedient. I was obedient for years and see where it got me," Loki spat out bitterly. "Passed over and ignored, and then, then when I took matters into my own hands the truth came out! Well it cost them the bifrost, oh I made sure of that!"
"The tantrum of a child," Angrboða murmured drily. "The Allfather and Heimdall will see to its repair before long."
Loki snorted. "Long enough, and the damage to Odin's reputation will linger through the nine realms, believe me."
"While building your own?"
"Yes, precisely," he agreed, sounding slightly mollified as he rolled to face her. "You tell me that together we will bring an end to the gods, but I want my revenge sooner, my lady. Do you have magic enough to do that?"
She considered her answer before speaking. "I have magic that will let you sow the seeds of discord and enmity wherever you go, dark prince. I can teach you how to uncover secrets and twist time to suit your will, but they take time to learn."
"Time we have," Loki pointed out with a wry smile. "At the very least, nights for a year."
Angrboða nodded and reached for him, one hand sliding over his bare shoulder, her fingertips gliding over the smooth skin. "That we do, if we are in accord. Come, I will make this night pleasant for you."
She sensed he was still wary, but through her many years of lovers Angrboða knew how to soothe and excite, how to help both ego and flesh swell as she murmured depraved words into the pale shell of Loki's ear, and ran her hands over the turgid flesh of his prick. This time when he breeched her body, Angrboða let her cleft pulse lightly around his shaft, caressing its length in rolling waves as he moved.
Still, she didn't want it to end too soon, and when he grew near to crisis, Angrboða relaxed, allowing herself to loosen her body's clench on him. Loki whined as he rocked above her, perplexed at the loss of sensation, his scowl almost puppylike. "No!"
She chided him. "Shhhhh. Still yourself, princeling, and savor this keen edge. We shall build again, and when you give over, the pleasure will be all the more intense for your restraint."
Loki pursed his mouth, reluctantly doing as she ordered, keeping himself in her but not moving. For a few long minutes, Angrboða lay under him, looking up into his face, touching it softly with her fingertips. "So much lust within you, molten and angry. Almost painful, that edge of agony in holding it back. How you must hate my cunt!"
He bit back a growl. "Yessss."
"And yet you want it so very much, want to make it wrap hard around your aching prick and make me give you your pleasure—" Angrboða crooned, letting her cleft tighten fractionally. Loki thrust again, working to stroke slowly, the long muscles of his throat standing out as he fought against his body's basic urges to rush.
She was impressed. The young usually had far less self-control and needed more than one lesson. Still the throb of Loki's shaft within her awakened her own hunger, and Angrboða rocked her hips to his, moaning softly. "Harder then, and tell me what you want-"
Loki did. The rush of his curses made filthy music around them, and he mounted her in rough strokes as she let her body squeeze his heavy cock in slick, hot pulses. He gave over a few minutes later, taking her with him, long spine arching as he emptied himself deep within her, the scalding spray hot and sweet in her womb.
Once he was asleep Angrboða slipped out of the bed and wrapped herself in her owl cloak. One of the badgers opened the door and she flew off into the night, celebrating the sliver of cold moon far above.
-oo00oo-
In the morning she had the badgers feed him smoked venison and fresh bread. Angrboða herself had no appetite, not after hunting through the dark hours. Instead she opened a small leather pouch and pulled out eight gems, setting them on the table in a rough diamond shape on the polished wood before her.
Loki glanced over with interest. He looked slightly disheveled and his smile held a hint of smugness to it, but Angrboða refused to let it charm her. She held her hands over the stones and concentrated, pulling the energy latent in them and letting it build into a hazy ball of light as the stones turned to piles of pale dust. Angrboða moved her hands, guiding the ball and making it moved towards Loki's cup of wine. With a flick of her fingers it dropped into the liquid and solidified it. Curious, Loki picked up his drink and upended it; a cup-shaped ruby slid out, heavy and glittering.
"Impressive," he breathed, reaching for the stone and hefting it. "No wonder you have no need for treasure."
"In part," she agreed. "But the power to take the energy from stone and use it on other elements is part of your heritage, son of Laufey. Did Frigga not show you this?"
He frowned. "No."
Angrboða said nothing, well-aware of his loyalty. It was only natural; the goddess had been the only one to spend instructional time with him, and what little good there was in Loki came from her. She watched him toy with the ruby, bringing it to his nose and sniffing it.
"No scent."
"No, it is stone now, not wine," she reminded him. "The essence of the wine has been transformed."
"Can you change it back?"
Angrboða reached over and pressed her hand on the gem; it shifted, and the resulting splash soaked Loki's sleeve and the remains of his breakfast but he didn't seem to notice the mess as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them.
He stared at her for a long moment as a badger bustled up to clean the mess.
"Teach me," Loki ordered.
Angrboða arched an eyebrow.
"Please," he added, his expression solemn.
She rose and held a hand out to him. "Let us go and meet stone."
They walked through the woods up a crooked path the wound higher along a weathered scree, and Angrboða pointed out various types of rock and stone, giving voice to the old names for them. Dutifully Loki repeated them, and she saw that he wanted to ask questions but was refraining. That pleased her, and she smiled to let him know it.
They reached the top of the rise, and stood on the stretch of windswept gorse and clover as the winds sang around them. One side held a long view of the land, full of ancient pines and rounded hills; far below came the trail of smoke rising up from Angrboða's hall. On the other side, the grey and sullen sea stretched along the horizon, little white crests breaking through the dark water. Far below on that side, the waves crashed hard against the base of the cliff, boiling over in foam time and time again.
Angrboða let the wind rake through her hair, breathed in the cold air and then turned to Loki. "We stand here on the largest stone in the Iron-Wood, little hrímþursar prince, and if you concentrate, you will feel its power under your boots."
Obediently he closed his eyes and turned his focus inward; as he did so, Angrboða made the ground rumble ever so slightly. Loki's eyes opened in alarm, but she merely smiled, and stepped out of her boar-hide slippers. Her bare feet were pale against the green of the clover, peeping out from her skirt, but Angrboða ignored Loki's amused look and let her soles press down against the ground to connect with the energy under them.
The ground vibrated; Loki's expression shifted to apprehension as he strove to keep his balance. Angrboða closed her eyes and raised her arms as the tremors increased. A low rumble began to build, and a few moments later the ground rose as the entire area they stood on levitated a few inches into the air. Angrboða opened her eyes just enough to see Loki gape over the side of the cliff, watching small boulders and stones break off from their section of ground to tumble, splashing into the sea far below.
"Lady, your magic moves worlds," he finally murmured, turning to look at her with new respect.
"As will yours, in time," she replied, and concentrated again, lowering the section back down. It ground against the earth below with another rumble, settling in once again with an earsplitting screech of stone scraping against stone that sent seabirds into panicked flight all around them.
She stepped back into her shoes and then looked at Loki, taking a moment to study him in the daylight as he looked back at her, neither afraid nor embarrassed. Angrboða gave one nod, and then knelt, her hands held out, waiting for his boot.
He looked genuinely surprised, but lifted his leg and brought his foot up to her waiting hands; Angrboða undid the leather casings and carefully pried the boot off, setting it aside and reaching for the other one to do the same actions. Loki's boots were lined with green fur inside, she noted, and well-cared for.
Angrboða looked at Loki's bare feet. They were long, clean, and milky, with defined tendons. They were, she thought, the feet of a man who moved quickly and lightly. Keeping her smile to herself she rose up and spoke. "Stand solidly, and feel yourself connecting to the stone. Let the coolness flow from it to you, meet it with your own magic, dark prince. Concentrate."
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, hands curling into fists at his sides. Angrboða circled him, aware of the rock below them faintly responding to his call. The power was weak; a thin thread for now, but the leyline was true. She came to stand in front of him again, and reached her hands to cover his fists, her colder skin drawing the warmth from him.
The resulting surge rocked them both as the ground shuddered.