Rome wasn't built in a day, they always said, and nor was Invidia, for that matter. Formerly known as Asgard, Invidia took months to become what it was now: a prosperous realm of magic. Of course, sorcery was monitored closely by the Wraiths that served as Dahlia's high council. The Wraiths, truth be told, came from many realms. Diversity was important to her, and her right-hand, Mazikeen, was a beautiful, dark-skinned demoness that once served Lucifer Morningstar himself. Mazikeen was a ruthless, torture demon at one point in her life, but like other Black Valkyries, she was walking proof that anyone could be turned around. With a little persuasion, and perhaps a little magic, numerous individuals of numerous skills were brought from numerous planes to unite on this one, magnificent plane.
Much had changed in the realm. What was once gold was now black marble. The queen's throne was white and gold, styled similarly to the Staff of Yggdrasil.
Ultimately, most might have disagreed with her decision, but she had taken great precautions to ensure this didn't backfire on her. After all, the villains that she brought here were doing no one any harm. Thanks to some help from her soon-to-be husband, they were influenced to fight for the realms, not against them, and at the same time, it alleviated much weight on the shoulders of the do-gooders, like the Avengers.
Dahlia watched from the window of the throne room as a group of Valkyrie moved in unison in their training group. The Black Valkyrie were recruiting both men and women almost daily. In their black and gold leather and steel, they all skillfully struck the air and dodged back with their own staves.
"My queen," came Mazikeen's voice from behind her. "Would you like to see your bouquet?"
Mazikeen was a thin, caramel-skinned beauty with, straight, black hair and striking, blue eyes. When Dahlia first encountered her, she was fighting a Hell Knight nearly three times her size on earth. Dahlia happened to be passing through, leaving Samantha's house when she felt the need to help the woman. Naturally, Mazikeen insisted she didn't need help, but that was when she was already beaten to a pulp. Dahlia knew better than to leave her behind. Once the Hell Knight was defeated by Dahlia's staff, and she nursed Mazikeen back to health, it became a gradual friendship that in turn became a partnership in the developing kingdom.
She inhaled. Queen still sounded foreign to her. Dahlia couldn't even bring herself to dress the part, save for a simplistic, golden laurel that she wore. She wore white and gold armor over a black, long-sleeved gown.
She sauntered after Mazikeen, who always wore spandex instead of leather. Not that there was a dress code requirement for being Dahlia's right-hand, nor her maid of honor.
The wedding was just in a few days. All of this time spent on building up Invidia, and truth be told, Dahlia had not spent much time alone with Loki. She hadn't even set eyes on him since he brought in a group of dark elves the day before yesterday.
Thanks to him and his Scepter (which he had been reunited with only because Dahlia helped him to), they had brought in so many volunteers. And where the Scepter fell short in eliminating any wicked temptations of betrayal, Dahlia's staff was able to amplify its powers tenfold to secure their control over everyone here.
Together, the pair made an unstoppable team. It only made sense that they married, as it was them that built Invidia from the ground up.
Down the hall and in a room on the right-hand side, a few people had their hands on a few different projects to prepare for the big day. Dahlia's bouquet, for instance, seemed to be complete. The primary, green foliage, for the most part, came from Vanaheim's ferns. Within the leaves were white dahlias and peonies, gold roses and smaller leaves. The way it cascaded down the vase it currently sat on was perfect in Dahlia's eyes.
"Let's swap these out for something a little less daring," she suggested, touching one of the dahlias with her index and middle fingers. "Maybe some lilies."
"Of course, my lady."
Mazikeen made the arrangements without as much as a defiant, blue eye. That was simply the way of things here. Dahlia could ask her, or anyone else for that matter, to rub her feet, and they would do it without question.
Of course, that was something she would never ask of anyone. She wasn't a tyrant.
"And the dress?"
Mazikeen's smile broadened. Dahlia already knew her right-hand had good deal of effort put into both projects. She might have been a demon, but she had a background in fashion design, and knew just what Dahlia wanted in her flowers and her wedding gown.
It was almost as though they shared the same mind.
In the adjacent room, two witches were hard at work on the gown's final touches. Off-white tulle and lace hugged the mannequin they were using, and at its hips, they were pinning the train that would come from either side, like a mermaid's tail. The intricate design of lace was mesmerizing, and it set Dahlia's heart aflutter with an eagerness to see herself in it.
"Perhaps matching flowers as appliques along the train," Mazikeen suggested to both the seamstresses. One was holding up the long train with levitation magic as the other sewed it in. "Don't make anything permanent until I see it first, you hear?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Content with the progress, Dahlia excused Mazikeen and returned to the throne room alone, a sly smile stretched across her face as as spotted a figure sitting on the seat.
"You look positively giddy," Loki said, looking smug in his spot. She'd let him have his fun. For now. With a command for the guards to remain outside and let no one in, she let the giant doors close behind her. "What have you been up to?"
"Oh, nothing," she chimed, feigning innocence. Her smile indicated that she was definitely less than that.
"We'll be married soon, pet," he said, watching as she carried a confident, almost noble strut up the steps to him. "There should be no secrets between us."
"Of course, my love," she said. "You'll just have to forgive my ambiguity for a little while longer." She had to admit, seeing him look so complacent and powerful on the perch did something to her body. She hadn't gotten that butterfly feeling in her loins for months now.
She could easily take advantage of this rare moment of alone time.
As if he was reading her mind, he sat himself up, reaching out to take her by the gold chain that hung around her waist - a small trinket to accessorize her queenly attire. He gave it a tug, and she could only step closer until the armored bodice she wore was within his reach.
Hands ran over the ornate, clean steel as if he was feeling for any imperfections. He then reached behind her, unfastening the buckles one by one until it fell away from her. Next came the shoulder braces, which were much easier to remove. The black dress that remained draped off her shoulders. The slits on both sides of her long skirt allowed her ease to lift one, heeled foot onto the seat beside him.
Loki, mesmerized, brushed his lips along the exposed skin of her inner thigh. Dahlia delightfully shuddered, her long veil of alabaster hair falling down one side of her face. It had grown significantly longer over these few months, easily reaching her waistline.
Eyes watching her fiance intently, she inhaled silently through quivering lips as his mouth moved higher up her leg. Her hand found the roots of his hair, pushing his head further up to skip the suspense.
Loki, however, resisted. She swore she saw a grin shape his lips. "So persistent."
"You are cruel, Loki Laufeyson."
His green eyes flickered mischievously at her. "I have hoped to taste you for what feels like ages now. It seems I would be punishing myself, as well."
Dahlia narrowed her eyes at him, her voice hardening slightly. "Then, what are you waiting for, hm?"
"For a plea, perhaps."
She felt his hand slide underneath her skirt, his palm methodical in the way it crossed over her backside. Given her noble stance, she had gained a sense of pride, and perhaps he knew he was challenging it now. She could feel his breath on her sex, despite the fabric that still protected it. She leaned back her head, staring up at the cathedral ceiling in exacerbation. There was no doubt that he could smell the sweetness of her, and it only grew stronger as his fingers intruded her panties, one sliding into the tight orifice between her cheeks. An audible gasp ripped through her lungs, both of surprise at his daring and at how amazing it actually felt.
As his finger pushed in further, Dahlia's back arched majestically. As the movement of his hand became more regular, as did her moans. He watched her like a hawk, surely waiting for her to beg for gratification.
Her other hand grabbed the back of the chair, fingers clutching at a slab of smooth marble as she bit her lip. Again, she would make another futile attempt to push his head inward, but he gave another push back. He really was going to make her beg for it, wasn't he?
Then, suddenly, she heard the sound of metal unsheathing. She might have panicked, if she hadn't trusted him completely, though the cool feel of a dagger against her hip did alarm her. The string of her undergarment was cut apart at one side, then, with the same hand, he sliced the fabric on the opposite side. Once he sheathed his blade, Loki was able to pull away the pesky shred of material with no trouble at all, discarding it to some forgotten space in the room.
At last, his tongue skillfully found her clit, drawing out that first stroke as if to torment her even further. Dahlia was undone. Her body stretched, and the gasp that shot through her lungs practically stung. When all motion stopped, even his hand thrusting its ring finger into her from behind, she almost wanted to cry.
"Loki..." she whimpered, her dignity shot to hell. "Please... don't stop..."
It was all he needed to keep going, committing fully to the attention he gave her on both sides. Her leg, still propped up on the side of the throne seat, began to tremble. Even he would hum in approval against her sex, and as though the taste of her was his very fuel, his efforts increased.
Then, very suddenly, he stopped.
The room spun around her as he forced her around, and he shoved her onto his lap to face the rest of the hall. "What will you do now, pet?" he challenged. As he pulled apart her legs, she could feel the cool air of the room licking at her wet flesh. Dahlia squirmed slightly, partially testing to see how firmly he'd hold her in place. One hand gripped tightly on her upper leg as his other arm slipped around her waist. He wasn't letting her go anywhere.
It was a bit peculiar, an empress being compelled to submission by her consort. She'd never felt so helpless. With a moan, Dahlia shifted her hips, rubbing her slit against his leg. Loki groaned, and his grip on her tightened.
He took a deep breath, and his brow wrinkled as he looked at her. "You want to come, don't you, pet?" he whispered. Dahlia nodded frantically, not sure what answer was the correct one. "Then, tell me what you want," Loki said, brushing his thumb against her inner thigh, stopping when it brushed the sensitive nub of her clit. Dahlia arched her hips slightly, and his hand slid up her thigh again.
"Fuck me," she choked out, her breath catching in her throat. The vulgar command came out before she could reconsider a different approach, but her fiance didn't seem exactly displeased.
"That's rather profane of you," he fanned a chuckle of amusement against the back of her neck after he swept her long, alabaster hair to the side. "But it is a very tantalizing proposal."
Dahlia gave an impatient grunt of desperation. He might have been sitting on the throne, but she was the one that allowed him to. Perhaps he might argue that the throne was his birthright, granted his relation to the former Kings of Asgard were not of blood, but of fostering circumstances, but they had agreed their rule over what was now Invidia would be shared once officially married.
Yet, Dahlia realized that as putty in his skilled hands, she needed to harden up quickly if she was going to keep her stance as a dominant figure. She reached behind, fingers clutching the leather that shielded his erection from her. Nonetheless, she could feel it, and what more, she could detect his own resolve weakening when she finally fought back.
"Then, as your queen, I command that you accept it."
A hum of sexual gratification was his response, and in a quick motion, he pulled himself up. The room spun around her rapidly as he pushed her over the arm of the seat, staking his claim in a matter of moments. It was sheer bliss once he finally filled her. It had been months since they really had any sort of alone time together, let alone a moment of intimacy. With that realization in mind, they were bound to make this last as long as they could.