#prince!loki

The slap of your feet on the cool stone echoed around the palace walls, the familiarity of your surroundings lost as the fear distorted the maze in front of you. Their yells seemed to follow you even as the distance between you grew, your ragged breaths doing nothing to drown out their voices. You skidded around the corner, lifting the skirt of your dress as you ran up the stairs, up and up until at last you recognised the floor you were on. The rational part of your brain hadn’t caught up yet, you were moving purely on instinct as the tears spilled down your cheeks.

Finally, the dim light of the palace grew brighter, and you had to swallow down the bile in your throat as the guards turned to you, eyebrows drawn together as they took in your dishevelled appearance. Your lungs burned for air, your legs struggling to keep up with the fear driving you on. One of the guards reached out an arm to stop you, but you slipped past his grasp as he called out to you. The thud of boots behind you as they followed sent another wave of nausea through you, and you stumbled, your hands grazing the stone beneath you as they broke your fall.

The door ahead of you creaked open, and you lifted your head to meet the gaze of your prince. 

—----

The trickle of blood was warm down your leg as you blinked back tears, trying your best to ignore the stinging of your knees as you pushed yourself to your feet. You rounded quickly on Loki, your palm connecting with his cheek with a satisfying CRACK. 

He stumbled back, cradling his face in shock. “How dare you! I am your prince-”

“I don’t care if you’re a prince! You’re an arse, is what you are!”

Thor’s chuckle echoed from behind you and you spun around to him, embarrassment heating your face. The golden prince raised a brow at you. “You may be right, Y/N, but you probably shouldn’t say it quite so loudly.”

You bit your lip, looking up at the palace that sparkled in the sunlight. You flicked your eyes back down at Thor. “He pushed me.” You couldn’t help the petulance that laced your words.

Thor frowned at the boy behind you. “Brother, you shouldn’t hurt a Lady.”

You heard Loki’s snort. “Look at her, she certainly doesn’t look like one.”

It was your turn to frown, and you turned to him as you fumbled with the knot you had tied your skirts in around your thighs. “Well I couldn’t exactly race you if I was tripping over my dress, now could I?”

Loki sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. “You still lost.”

“Because you cheated!”

“Sshh!” Thor’s hushing stopped you mid-march towards Loki, and it was then that you heard the quiet chatter of your mother and the Queen. 

You dipped into a low curtsey as the pair appeared along the path, arms linked together in friendship. “Your Majesty.”

“Lady Y/N.” Queen Frigga greeted with a smile, “We thought we might find you all out here.”

Your mother pulled away from the Queen, extending her hand to you. “Come, let us leave Her Majesty to talk to her sons.”

You took her hand with a well-practised smile, curtseying to the royals in turn. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, Your Royal Highness.” Thor and Loki struggled to contain their amusement at your manners; having grown up together you only ever bothered to refer to them by their proper titles in the presence of others. 

You walked away arm in arm with your mother, barely listening as she chatted enthusiastically about your closeness with the princes. Instead, your mind wandered to what bribes you could offer Thor to fill Loki’s bed with raw fish.

—--

You panted beneath Archer’s touch, his hands firm on your waist as he nipped at your throat. Your eyes flew open as you bit your lip to hide your smile in the moonlight. It was Archer, wasn’t it? Or was it Hunter? You swallowed your giggle as you considered the absurdity of your own forgetfulness, your distracted mind not noticing the glimmer of magic at the corner of your vision. 

The boy pulled away, searching for your lips, but you planted your hands on his chest, batting your eyelashes at him. “I should get back before they notice I’m gone.” You murmured, smiling at his protests. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You pushed off the tree and out of his grasp before he could say another word, making your way back onto the path and up towards the palace. You managed to avoid anyone of importance, slipping into your chambers unnoticed.

You sighed as you took in Loki’s nonchalant expression as he reclined back on your couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table before him as he lifted a goblet to his lips. “It’s quite improper to let yourself into a Lady’s rooms, you know.”

The God of Mischief smiled wickedly at you, eyeing you up as you made your way over to the mirror, inspecting your reflection for any signs of dishevelment. “And you know how much I love all things improper.”

You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore him. “Is Thor still walking me down to dinner?”

“Of course, who else would escort the birthday girl?” Loki sat up, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched you smooth out your dress. “Lady Y/N, finally of age… All of the Lords will be scrambling to court you.”

You snorted, turning to him with a smirk. “Let them. You know I’m not-”

“I wonder what they’ll say when they find out you’ve been whoring yourself out to a servant,” Loki said frankly, watching you over the rim of his goblet as he took a sip. You opened and closed your mouth in shock, before his visage shimmered and faded. A warm body pressed against your back as an arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand tucking your hair behind your ear as you stood frozen. Loki’s breath tickled your neck as he whispered in your ear, “You really should be more careful, darling, anyone could have happened upon your little meeting in the woods.”

You silently scolded your body for the reaction to his touch, a shiver creeping up your spine. He was teasing you, mocking you, enjoying the proximity of your bodies contrasting your mutual dislike for each other. You pulled away with a frown. He let you go, watching as you picked up his discarded goblet and downed the contents. You winced at the burn in your throat, coughing. “You’re such an arse.”

Loki smirked at your words, pulling a flask from his pocket as he made his way over to you. He poured the amber liquid into the goblet in your hand as you jabbed a finger into his chest. “Don’t you dare say a word to anyone.”

“Would I really do that?” He raised an eyebrow at you and reached for the goblet. You pulled it away from him with a pout.

“Promise me, Loki.”

“You have my word, darling,” He smiled, tracing his thumb over your cheek. You frowned once again at his mocking and stepped back, but he caught the hand that was wrapped around the goblet. “I think you’d better give that back.”

“Why?”

“It’s not meant for your delicate mortal body.”

“I’m not delicate-” Your childish rebuke cut off as all the blood seemed to rush to your head at once, and you swayed on the spot. Loki took the goblet from you, nudging you back onto the couch. 

The prince hummed as he considered you, “I probably should have stopped you before you finished the glass.” He sat down next to you with a sigh and you bounced slightly. “Oh well.”

You closed your eyes as the dizziness began to subside, reaching out a thump and meeting Loki’s arm with a satisfying thud. “Don’t pretend you’re sorry.” You could practically hear his smug grin.

A knock sounded at the door and you opened your eyes. “Come in.”

Thor strode into the room, bowing absurdly low before you. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

You giggled, standing up and offering your hand to him to kiss. He did so with a wink, pulling you to tuck your hand in the crook of his arm. “How are you this evening?”

“I’m well, thank you.”

“My brother hasn’t been pestering you, has he?” 

You ignored Loki’s snort of indignation. “No more than usual.”

—--

Your mother fussed with your hair as you stood outside of the banquet hall, rowdy cheers echoing down the hallway from the feast. You batted her hands away. “It’s fine, mother. Let us go in, I’m dying to say hello to the Princes.”

“They only become more handsome with each new victory under their belt, don’t they?” She smiled as if she knew what you were thinking.

“Oh, do leave it be, mother.” You rolled your eyes.

“You’re not getting any younger, dear. You could do much worse than a Prince of Asgard.” She looked at you pointedly and you huffed, pulling her into the hall. 

You curtseyed to the King and Queen, and left your mother with Frigga. You made your way down the hall, nodding to those that greeted you, until a familiar booming voice called your name. Thor waved you over, motioning away one of the lords to make room next to him and you curtseyed to him before sitting down. He pulled you under his arm in a hug and you laughed, thanking him as he poured you a glass of wine.

“How have you been, Lady Y/N?”

You took a sip of your wine, glancing at Loki as he sat opposite you, immersed in conversation. You were thankful to avoid his sneer at yours and Thor’s affections. “I’m well! I’m afraid I have nothing new to tell you,” you smiled at the golden prince, “I can imagine that you have plenty of stories to tell me, though.”

Thor needed no more encouragement than that, and launched into a battle story that was sure to become legend as you waved over a server to refill the jugs of wine. 

You lost track of time as you listened to his stories, laughing with your friends. Loki joined in occasionally, barely sparing you a glance. You hated to admit that his lack of acknowledgement stung; it wasn’t as if you were best friends, but you had always thought you shared a unique understanding of each other, having spent most of your childhood together.

You flicked your gaze to the guards, who were trying their best to act as if they couldn’t hear the sounds of destruction coming from the prince’s chamber. You offered them a polite smile, asking them if they might give you some space.

When you entered Loki’s rooms, they looked as if they had been ransacked. Chairs were overturned, a vase of fresh flowers lay shattered on the ground, and a seething prince paced the length of the room. The various stacks of books lay untouched, you noticed, and you tried not to smile. Even when he was angry, Loki couldn’t bring himself to destroy anything of importance.

You picked up a chair, setting it down properly and taking a seat. You waited for him to speak.

“Their favouritism knows no bounds.” Loki hissed, mostly to himself.

You grimaced; of course it was this again. “What happened?”

“They’re throwing a feast! In his honour!” He spun towards you, lifting his arms in exasperation. “They didn’t even mutter a ‘thank you’ in my direction!” He laughed dryly. “He couldn’t even remember the ambassador’s name, the oaf. I had to step in and charm my way out of war. And then he somehow befriends them, turns the whole trip around, and I’m long forgotten, once again!”

“You shouldn’t call your brother an oaf.”

“Of course you’d take his side.” Loki sneered, stepping towards you.

“I’m not. I just don’t see the point in resenting him when it’s your Father that has angered you.” You didn’t break his gaze. Most would cower under the angry gaze of the god, but he didn’t scare you. You still remembered him pre-puberty. There was nothing scary about a spoiled little boy. 

You looked around the room at the destruction. “You should clean this up before anyone sees.”

The god leaned over you, placing his hands on the arms of the chair and caging you in. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

You looked at him unwaveringly, and he held your gaze with fire in his eyes, until it eventually died down. He sighed, pulling away and waving his hand. The room righted itself, and you hid your self-satisfied smirk. Instead, you stood, making your way over to him and resting your hand on his arm.

“It’s not fair, Loki, I never said it was. But you can’t give them a reason to scold you. Continue being the best you can be, and eventually they’ll have to notice.”

Loki offered you a small smile. “I preferred it when you were annoying.”

Soon, the hall began to empty, and your mother took up an empty seat next to you as Loki excused himself. You watched him go, dropping your gaze to your mother. 

She wasted no time in getting to the point. “Her Majesty says that she is keen to get her sons courting, to take them away from their laddish behaviour.”

You had to stop yourself from groaning. “They’re not as laddish as you think,” you said, ignoring her obvious point.

She looked at you, unamused. “Y/N, you can’t refuse to court forever-”

“I think I shall follow Prince Loki’s sense and retire for the night, I am rather tired.” You interrupted her, standing up and kissing her on the cheek. “Goodnight, mother.”

You strode from the room before she could stop you, leaning against the wall outside to take off your heels and give your aching feet a rest. It was late enough that you were unlikely to be seen carrying your shoes, and you padded contentedly down the corridor, thinking of your bed and a glass of warm milk.

Taking a detour, you hoped to bump into a servant to request the comforting drink. You took your time, but didn’t see anyone, and so decided to head down a floor in search of assistance. The sound of laughter greeted you as you descended and you hurried towards the sound, eager to get back to your room.

Two guards stood to attention when they saw you, stifling their smiles as they nodded. “Can we help you, M’Lady?” One asked.

You smiled at them and opened your mouth to speak, but the second guard interrupted you. “Or maybe you can help us.” He smirked, nudging the other one. They shared a look before turning to you. 

You frowned in confusion as they stepped towards you, but you barely had time to process the predatory look in their eyes before they grabbed you, pulling you into a darkened alcove. One pulled you back against him, his hand over your mouth to muffle your screams as he used his other arm to pin your arms to your sides. You dropped your shoes as you struggled against him, squeezing your legs together as the other one lifted your skirt, his rough hands dragging against your thighs. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as fear and disbelief coiled painfully in your stomach.

He pulled a dagger from its sheath, trailing the cold blade against the exposed skin on your chest, and you yelped against the hand on your mouth as he pressed it into your flesh, drawing blood. He collected it on the tip and brought it to his mouth, licking it off.

They both panted in excitement and the one in front of you chuckled quietly. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a real lady.” He shoved his leg between yours, pressing the dagger against your thigh. “Wonder if your cunt feels any better than the whore’s down the inn.”

You squeezed your eyes shut against his hungry gaze, tears cascading down your cheeks. This couldn’t be happening, it had to be some kind of awful dream. How had your wonderful night turned so awful so quickly? You were about to be raped, helpless against two armed men.

“Erik? Gunnar?” A voice called out, and the two men froze. Your eyes flew open and you watched as the guard in front of you slid the dagger back in its sheath, your skirt falling back down as he stepped out of the alcove. 

The other guard held you tight, but your heart filled with hope and desperation. Surely you could take on one guard? You certainly couldn’t give up on what might be your only chance.

Slowly, you reached out your foot, searching for your shoes. When you found one, you slid it on, stamping on the guard's foot as hard as you could. It didn’t do as much as you’d wanted with him wearing boots, but it was enough that you could duck down out of his grasp. He latched onto your dress before you could make it more than a few feet away, and you spun around, digging your nails into any skin you could find, scratching until you drew blood. He swore loudly as his grip loosened.

You fled as fast as you could. The slap of your feet on the cool stone echoed around the palace walls, the familiarity of your surroundings lost as the fear distorted the maze in front of you. Their yells seemed to follow you even as the distance between you grew, your ragged breaths doing nothing to drown out their voices. You skidded around the corner, lifting the skirt of your dress as you ran up the stairs, up and up until at last you recognised the floor you were on. The rational part of your brain hadn’t caught up yet, you were moving purely on instinct as the tears spilled down your cheeks.

Finally, the dim light of the palace grew brighter, and you had to swallow down the bile in your throat as two guards turned to you, eyebrows drawn together as they took in your dishevelled appearance. Your lungs burned for air, your legs struggling to keep up with the fear driving you on. One of the guards reached out an arm to stop you, but you slipped past his grasp as he called out to you. The thud of boots behind you as they followed sent another wave of nausea through you, and you stumbled, your hands grazing the stone beneath you as they broke your fall.

The door ahead of you creaked open, and you lifted your head to meet the gaze of your prince. Loki took in the fear in your eyes, your tear-stained face, the bleeding cut on your chest, all in an instant. He moved quickly, silently helping you to stand before picking you up into his arms before your legs could give way. He cradled you to him as he moved you through his rooms and part of you wanted to lean into his warmth, the strangely comforting scent of him, but you couldn’t get the thought of the two guards out of your head. 

He sat you on the edge of his bed and reached for your shaking hand. You let him take it, your sobs turning into shallow hiccups as you watch his thumb trace calming circles on your skin. As you calmed, you finally met his gaze, watching the storm behind his eyes.

He stood and you watched him through bleary eyes, waiting for him to laugh and make you leave. Your mind was racing, your heart hammering with adrenaline, and all you wanted to do was crawl into a corner and screw your eyes shut against the pain in your head. 

Instead of laughing, Loki went to the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room. When he returned, he pulled a chair over and sat opposite you.

“Who did this to you?” The words were quiet, but firm. 

You couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked your body at his words, the terrible gasps you made for air as tears began to stream once again. You couldn’t see the pain on his face as he watched you shake, yearning to reach out and comfort you.

The images replayed in your head, and you cried harder as you realised that he was watching them too, searching your mind for the answers he wanted. You could feel his boiling rage before he closed the connection. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” His words were cold, and some part of you knew that he was protecting you from his true emotions, but you couldn’t help the painful pang in your chest at the thought that his anger might be directed at you. You swallowed the sob in your throat to let him continue. “You will go and have a bath, and stay as long as you need. I will have a maid fetch your things and bring them to you. You will sleep here tonight, under my protection. Understood?”

You’d never taken orders from him, and normally you’d laugh at him for even trying to boss you around. But you ached to feel the warm envelopment of the water, and you knew there was nowhere safer to be.

You bit your lip and nodded, standing on shaky legs. Loki reached out a hand to steady you, but you flinched at his touch. He withdrew it immediately, watching you silently as you half-stumbled to the bathroom and closed the door. 

You stripped as quickly as you could with your shaking hands, determined not to let yourself break until you were in the bath. The water was too hot, but you welcomed the burn as you sunk in, the tears streaming silently down your face.

You held yourself tightly, as if you could stop yourself from falling apart completely. When you noticed the blood caked under your nails, you had to swallow the bile in your throat, hiding your hands beneath the bubbles as you scrubbed them.

A quiet knock sounded at the door and you struggled to find your voice to call them in as you crossed your arms over your chest. You averted your eyes as the maid placed down your things, collecting your dress. She stopped at the door and you looked up at her.

She bit her lip nervously and gestured to the dress. “His Royal Highness says to get rid of this, M’Lady.”

You swallowed hard and looked away. “Burn it.”

—----

Despite your protests, Loki insisted on you sleeping in his bed, and you watched as he settled himself on the couch. You fell asleep quickly, the lack of adrenaline leaving you both mentally and physically exhausted. It didn’t last as long as you’d hoped, and you woke up as the birds started singing, the sky still dark. 

The tears leaked silently onto the pillow, and you found yourself afraid of your own thoughts. It’s as if you could still feel the two guards’ hands on you, and you absentmindedly traced your fingers over the cut on your chest. You sniffled, sitting up on the bed and wiping your nose. 

You could make out Loki’s long form in the low light, his feet propped up over the edge of the couch as he slept. You didn’t think as you stood up, your aching legs carrying you gingerly over to him, stopping barely a foot away. You ran your eyes over his form, his dark hair splayed on the pillow, down to his softly parted lips. Your gaze lingered on the exposed skin of his chest as the top of his night shirt splayed open, watching the soft rise and fall of his breaths. 

Why had you run here? Was this really where your subconscious had carried you? Why hadn’t you run to Thor? You bit your lip as you thought. You didn’t want Thor to see you like this. You’d never truly been vulnerable around him. And despite your best efforts, Loki had seen a side to you that most hadn’t, on more than one occasion.

You frowned down at your book as Loki sat down in the armchair opposite you, hoping that he would take the hint and leave you alone.

“I see you’ve already given up on the literature I recommended to you.”

You sighed, sparing him a glance. “I finished it.”

“All three novels?” He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Yes.” You couldn’t hide your annoyance, trying once again to actually take in the passage in front of you.

“I didn’t know you could read so quickly.”

You knew he was only teasing, but the words stung, the comments from your tutor too fresh in your mind. You swallowed thickly, blinking back tears as you willed yourself not to cry in front of him.

Loki sighed. “I’m only winding you up, Y/N.”

“Well don’t!” You slammed your book shut, standing up with a huff. Loki caught your arm as you stormed past.

“What’s wrong?”

You bit your lip, knowing it was futile to pretend you were fine. Still, you didn’t particularly want to pour your heart out to him.

“My tutor says that we should stop our lessons. That I read too much and it doesn’t do a girl any good to be too smart.”

Loki dropped your arm and you sighed at his expression.

“I’ll be fine, Loki.” Your reassured him. “I’m just being over-dramatic.” You turned away and left the library quickly, sure that you’d embarrassed yourself enough for one day. 

The next morning your mother informed you that Queen Frigga had recommended a new tutor, insisting that ‘young ladies should always be able to explore their potential’.

Despite your differences and your difficulties, you found you did trust Loki. You knew that he would never hurt you. You flicked your gaze back up to his face, your breath catching in your throat as you found him watching you.

“I can’t sleep.” You whispered.

He didn’t say anything, sitting up and gesturing for you to sit beside him. You sat, fiddling with the sleeve of your nightgown. Finally, he spoke.

“What do you need?” His words were soft, quiet.

You thought for a moment, your mind clinging to a ridiculous idea, a childish need for reassurance. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, instead looking at him and tapping your forehead with your finger.

He understood instantly, and you felt him searching your thoughts. Part of you expected him to laugh at the notion, but instead he offered you a small smile and reached out a gentle hand, tugging you to him. 

You fell onto his chest, his arm around your shoulders, and your heart beat rapidly in your chest. It should have felt strange, being in Loki’s arms, but you found yourself melting into his warmth. You felt him rest his chin on your head, and realised just how comforting it was to be held by him.

—----

You didn’t realise you had fallen asleep until you woke to sunlight streaming in the windows. You blinked slowly, flicking your gaze to the couch to see it empty. Lifting your head, you found yourself resting on Loki’s chest, enveloped in his embrace. He must have carried you to the bed.

You wanted to be embarrassed, mortified even, but couldn’t find the energy to care as you stretched your muscles, finding yourself content in that moment.

Then, the memories of the night before came flooding back, and you breaths grew quicker. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and you sat up quickly, gasping for breath as you hyperventilated. You crawled off the bed, sliding onto the floor as you held yourself, trying to catch your breath. 

Loki moved to the edge of the bed silently, and you felt him spread his legs behind you. He pulled you back to him, your back to the edge of the bed as you sat between his legs. He tilted your head up, his fingers kneading at your temples.

“Close your eyes,” he said quietly, and you obeyed, focusing on the feeling of his fingers. Your breathing began to slow, and you tried to untense your shoulders as you allowed him to ground you.

You stayed like that for a while, until you felt relaxed enough to open your eyes. You tilted your head up, looking up at him.

He smiled, a rare smile that wasn’t cruel or mocking, and it fluttered something in your chest.

“You should go and get ready, I’ll have breakfast brought to your chambers.”

You instinctively grabbed his hand in an iron grip. “Come with me,” you whispered, the thought of being alone sending a shock of panic through you. You didn’t want to think about how quickly your dynamic had changed, how much you needed him all of a sudden.

“Of course.” He squeezed your hand, before sliding out from behind you. You watched him change before your eyes, a glimmer of magic, and he was now dressed for the day and looking as if he hadn’t slept on a couch for half the night.

He collected your robe from the back of the chair, offering it to you. You slid it on, thankful for your chambers not being too far, a perk of being the Queen’s favourites. 

The walk seemed slow, your legs tired from the night before, and you kept your eyes down, willing to get there as quickly as possible. As you passed a couple of maids chatting on their way to the Prince’s rooms, you found yourself turning to them, something in their conversation tugging at your brain.

“What did you just say?” You interrupted, not realising you had stopped.

“Oh! Your Royal Highness!” They curtseyed to Loki before turning to you. “M’Lady,” they curtseyed again before sharing an anxious look.

“We were just saying what a shame it was, M’Lady.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, tilting your head. You felt Loki stop behind you.

“About the two guards. They were found this morning, ‘said they drank too much and went for a swim and were found washed up on the river bank.”

Loki must have gestured behind you because the maids dipped into a curtsey and hurried away. Your hands were shaking when you turned back to him. Loki gently tilted your chin up with his fingers, and you found his eyes dark and stormy.

“No one will ever hurt you again, my love.”

You had only been working at the castle for a little over two months. It was your first job all alone without your mother by your side. It was meant to be the two of you before she opted to remain serving King Rogers in the Kingdom adjacent to Asgard. You were devastated, you sobbed for many nights even before you made the move.

Not that the crying ever stopped, only now it was for different reasons. Prince Loki had an unnerving air to him.

The other servants dismissed your concerns, saying that he is just rude and entitled. He’s like that with all of us, they would say.

Only, he wasn’t. He seemed to have a certain interest in you, the youngest of all the servants. He was crueler to you. He would look at you for too long, order you to do obscure tasks but was never content with the work you did. You also couldn’t forget the time he “accidentally” flipped your skirt as you were bent down, organizing the books in his room for the umpteeth time. They can never stay in place, he says, you ought to do a better job.

It didn’t help that he always called for you in the evenings as he was being readied for bed. Sometimes he was completely nude when you’d walk in, unabashedly waltzing around bare. His manhood was always slightly erect and hanging between his legs with his smirk illuminated by the candlelight.

He wasn’t like that with the rest of the women.

Most times, it was like he hadn’t seen them at all.

Natasha would walk into the library where he sat reading and he would pay her no mind, not even when she spoke to him. But as soon as you entered the room you could feel his burning eyes on you as you dusted the shelves. Predatory eyes following you wherever you went.

But he was never satisfied with your work and he made sure you knew it. Sometimes you thought he was doing it on purpose to keep you from straying too far.

+

As you set the table for dinner, you jumped in surprise as the door creaked open. Your heartbeat sped up as Prince Loki stepped inside.

“Prince Loki,” you bowed, “dinner is not yet served.”

“Yes, I am aware. Always quite laggard, you,” he gave you a look up and down.

You cleared your throat, “my apologies, Prince Loki.”

You picked up your speed, wiping down the table at a faster pace before assembling two places with appropriate silverware for the two Princes. You did what you could to keep yourself from bending over, even with the coverage of your almost knee length skirt, you still did not want to be subject to his predatory staring.

You could feel Loki watching you still. The room was filled with the sound of his foot tapping the ground lightly in impatience. “Serve dinner at once.”

You scurried to the kitchen and assembled two servings as quickly as you could.

The flu had been running rampant in Asgard. Much of the staff had been exposed and were currently bedridden. Only you and three others were healthy. The four of you had divided the jobs evenly and you were stuck with the kitchen and the surrounding areas. Your duties entailed cooking and you were nervous. You lacked proper training and you settled for a basic dish.

You carried both of the plates in your hand as you reentered the dining room. Loki was sitting in his seat, bored look on his face. His back straightened as you came into view. You walked over to Prince Thor’s side of the table, setting down his own plate. You stretched over the table to reach Prince Loki.

He clicked his tongue, “is that the way to treat your Prince, darling. Don’t forget your manners.”

You bowed your head, “My apologies, Prince Loki.” You hesitantly walked over to him, feeling the coldness of his body against your arm as you set the plate before him. He inhaled deeply and you weren’t sure if he was inhaling the aroma of your cooking or the smell of your skin.

He said nothing as he lifted a golden spoon and took a small bit of the food. You watched him with a worried expression, hoping just that what you had done was satisfactory.

He made a face of disgust, “well, you just can’t do anything right, can you?”

You weren’t sure how to respond so you stayed silent for a few moments. “I am sorry, Prince Loki. The recipe called for the amount of salt. I simply followed directions.”

“And you did not find it appropriate to taste it before serving it to us?” His long, ring-clad fingers tapped the table.

“I did not have a taste, Prince Loki, no.”

“Why don’t you give it a try then, hm?” His eyes are hard as he reaches for your chin. His touch was gentle yet it made you feel as if you couldn’t move a muscle. He moved the golden spoon to your mouth, nodding his head ever so slightly until you parted your lips. He pushed it inside, the flavor was ambrosial, though you had to admit, he was right. A tad salty. It was almost unnoticeable. In fact, you’re sure you wouldn’t have noticed the inappreciable saline flavor if it wasn’t for the expecting emerald stare.

You were prepared to apologize, beg for forgiveness, anything to save you from the expected punishment from the head maid when she caught wind of this. But you were stunned as he continued to push the spoon further into your mouth, eyes twilinking with something unsettling. You looked up at him with confusion and slight fear. The gold prodded the back of your throat. You started to gag only to abruptly stop at the sound of a disapproving click of his tongue. The rush flavors from the slightly over seasoned food slipped down your throat and you fought to contain your gagging. You couldn’t contain it and an indecent retch erupted from you.

He held the spoon still, curved bottom pushing down on the back of your tongue. His expression remained unphased but you swore his eyes held amusement. He pulled the spoon out, setting it down beside his plate as Thor made his entrance. He sat as you bowed to the approaching blonde prince, blinking back the tears that had pricked your eyes only seconds before.

Thor smiled at you, polite as always before taking his own seat. He clapped his hands loudly, “shall we eat, brother?”

Loki said nothing, he simply picked up his spoon and scooped up a bite. Across the table, his brother did the same.

Thor closed his eyes as he chewed on the food. He called your name with a serious tone, your blood ran cold. “This is utterly fantastic, my dear.”

“Yes,” Loki agreed much to your confusion, “spectacular, darling.”

You were in shock. Had he not just criticized the dish moments earlier?

You let go of the breath you held, “thank you, Prince Thor,” you paused and with hesitance said, “thank you, Prince Loki.”

You fled the room as quickly as you could, doing what you could to avoid looking eager. These types of occurrences were not rare with the Prince. He was always mean and critical towards you directly but would praise you when you were within earshot of his family. What was rare was what he had done with the golden spoon. It was daring and utterly inappropriate. The only other time he had laid a hand on you in a scandalous way was when he had flipped your skirt.

It unnerved you and the scene would not leave your brain for the remainder of the day.

+

Just as you were going to retire to bed, Maria peaked her head through your door, “you’ve been summoned by Prince Loki.”

You sighed as soon as she left. You fixed yourself up and made your way to his room. Your mind was racing and you were scared to face him again in fear that he would do something inappropriate again.

You fiddled with the hem of your uniform skirt as you stood by Prince Loki’s door. You knocked as confidently as you could, waiting for him to open the door and let you in. You took a few breaths to calm yourself. But all that was thrown out as soon as the door creaked open.

You stepped inside, taking in the scent of his room as you made your way to the bookshelf after a brief bow. His hair was wet and his skin had a pink flush, he had likely just gotten out of the bath. He wore only a bathrobe, it was made of green silk to match his usual attire.

You heard a chuckle behind you but you ignored it, instead you knelt before the books and began to hastily organize them.

“Don’t rush, darling,” his voice was closer and you could practically feel his stare burning your backside.

“Yes, sir.”

He groaned. The hair on the back of your neck stood. “I like it when you’re polite. Sir.”

You didn’t say anything and he clicked his tongue.

Seconds later you felt the warmth of his body behind you. In fear you kept your eyes on the books. Maybe if you ignored it, he would go away.

A hand came to rest on your hip and you jumped at the sensation. His hips rocked forward, pressing his pelvis to your ass. The hard outline of his cock pushed into your flesh causing you to gasp. You tried to pull away but he caught you, tightening his grip on your side.

Another groan fell from his lips, “so warm. I wonder how your tight, little cunt is gonna feel. You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

All the air left your lungs and you felt your lip wobble. You were. You never had time for men or boys, you were too busy helping your mother around. You didn’t respond and he began to grind his hips into yours, the hands holding you in place began to inch closer and closer to your pussy.

“I asked you a question, darling.”

You tried to fight back your tears by focusing on the books in front of you rather than the man behind you. “Prince Loki, please let me go.”

“No,” he said simply. “You’re my servant. You are to do what I say.”

You lunged forward at the feeling of his cold fingers reaching under your dress. He pinched at the flesh of your thigh, causing a tingling sensation to erupt in your cunt.

“Mm,” he groaned, hip thrusts speeding up. “Untouched little virgin.”

A tear fell from your eyes along with a shaky inhale.

“Brother! I must speak to you at once!”

The familiar booming voice had never sounded so heavenly. You ripped yourself from Prince Loki’s grasp just as the door flew open and the strong, blonde Prince walked in.

“Ah,” he said upon seeing you. His eyes flicked from you to his brother. Once, twice. “Hm.”

You reached up to wipe your tears and fix your skirt, “excuse me, Prince Thor. I was summoned by Prince Loki to assist in organizing his bookshelf.”

“At this hour?” He gave his brother a look of judgement. “Well, you’re free to return to the chambers. You may assist him tomorrow.” He offered you a gentle smile and you returned it surprisingly genuinely.

Prince Thor is kind. He’s lively and funny and he treats all the staff with the appropriate respect. He’s just decent if you really thought about it. But even that was far better than most of the other royalty.

You scurried back to your room and locked the door behind you. You sank to the floor and let the tears you had held fall.

+

The following days, Prince Thor began to request you more and more. Considering that he was the heir of the throne, his wishes were top priority. Even above Prince Loki’s. You were relieved and you tried your best to make it known without being too out front.

You smiled more, talked more and overall returned to your true self. It was someone you haven't seen since you were a child. It was scary but it was a pleasant change that you welcomed with open arms.

Prince Loki had done the opposite. He summoned you so many times a day the head maid had stopped telling you. So, even if you weren’t hearing it, you knew it was happening. But you couldn’t be bothered because you had not faced him since. You were busy from morning to night assisting Prince Thor.

After breakfast, Prince Thor had ordered you to dust the library. So you practically skipped over to the large room and began your task.

Aside from the usual discomfort from Prince Loki that came with the room, it was one of your favorites. You loved to read and being able to look through and care for the collection of books was your favorite part of the castle.

It was different from Prince Loki’s room because it was in an open space and not in a secluded bedroom.

As you dusted and organized the books, you stood on a moving ladder that allowed you to reach the higher shelves. You were so entranced by the pages of a novel Prince Thor had recommended earlier in the week that you did not hear the door open. Nor the footsteps that led to where you were standing.

“Oh, yes,” his daunting voice said, “this is what I like to see.”

You yelped and the book fell from your hands, landing on the ground beneath you. You caught yourself before you could fall.

Prince Loki stood under you, peering up under your skirt. You clenched your thighs shut tight, your heartrate picking up immediately.

“No, no,” he said, taking his cold hands and prying your thighs open to their previous position. “Keep them open for me. I want to see your pretty pussy.”

You ignored him, shutting them again. “I’m sorry, Prince Loki. Prince Thor ordered me to make the library spotless, I must return to work.”

“You will return to work when I allow it.”

You swallowed as his hand crept up your leg. “Open them wide for me. I would like to taste your pure, virgin essence. You’re probably as sweet as sugar, darling.”

“No, Prince Lo-“

“Do as I say!” He bellowed. You flinched as he forced his head in between your thighs.

He had never been so verbally direct so you tried to loosen up and do as told until an escape presented itself.

You shakily opened your legs and he dove in. His tongue lapped your cunt through your panties, dampening the fabric. Involuntarily, you jolted up and away from this mouth.

His hands moved to pull on your hips and bring them closer to his awaiting lips. His tongue flicked at a rapid pace, lapping at your covered clit. You gasped, feeling your balance wavering.

He removed his head, “take those off. I can’t taste you.”

You didn’t move. He sighed in annoyance and all but pried your hands from the ladder. You wiggled in his hold as he dragged you away. You reached for whatever you could. You caught hold of the railing and you planted your feet to the ground as sobs fell from you.

Prince Loki huffed, “fine. Make this difficult.”

He flipped your skirt like he had before and he yanked your panties down your legs in one movement. The cold air of the room made you shiver as it came in contact with your pussy.

Prince Loki smacked your ass, groaning as the skin rippled. “I’ve been dying to catch a glimpse of this pretty pussy, darling.” You were in shock.

You tried to pull away again, but he delivered another slap. Only this time it was harder. You flinched in pain.

“Please,” you could still feel the burn of the area.

“Of course, darling. No need to beg me.”

You almost let go of the railing, relieved that he was going to let you go. Instead, his lips reconnected with your cunt, lapping rapidly at your mound once more.

That hadn’t been what you meant. Despair filled your body as his tongue circled your clit and licked up the slick that had begun to leak from you.

You whined loudly. The sensation was so new to you, it felt foreign. You hated the way your body wanted to lean into it. Your legs were shaking and your hold on the railing was so tight it had begun to hurt.

“It’s so obvious you’ve never been touched,” his voice was slightly muffled, “you’re so sensitive.”

He suckled at your mound as his hands kneaded the flesh of your ass above his head. You had stopped crying and your mind was racing. Were you… enjoying this?

One of his long fingers prodded at your hole, circling it. You were distracted by his tongue on your bud that you didn’t notice as he pushed the finger in slowly. A sudden pain rushed through your body and your eyes widened.

“No, please, Prince Loki, don’t.”

He ignored you and continued pushing his finger in until the entire length was inside. He held it there for a few seconds as his tongue continued its assault on your cunt.

Slowly, this finger slid in and out. Squelching noises filled the room. You felt your face heat from embarrassment of the lewd sound.

“So wet,” he said, suckling harshly at your nub.

You felt something building in your belly and your breathing became uneven.

“Let me go. Let me go,” your voice was weak and strained.

“Cum for me, darling. Let it go.”

Again. It was like he was speaking to you without actually speaking to you. Like he was altering your words to fit his wants. You just wanted him to let you leave. You didn’t want him.

Still, he’s tongue licked up your cunt, focusing on your clit as he moved his fingers in and out of your hole. Soon, you felt a release in your belly as your body shook, your eyes closed and the pleasure turned to pain.

“Stop! Stop, please!” You cried, kicking one of your legs back.

He didn’t budge but he did stop. He pulled back and his eyes had darkened in the way you had learned to loathe. “You’re even sweeter than I imagined. You taste as pure as sugar.”

You grimaced, shakily standing and tugging your skirt down. He had rid you of your panties and you didn’t bother to look. You wanted to leave and pretend this had never happened.

The way he spoke disgusted you. You tried not to think about his comments as you stumbled to the door.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, darling. I felt how wet you were.”

+

You had returned to normal. You were back to being a shell of a person.

You woke up sweaty and breathing heavily more times than you would like to admit. As much as the rest of the royal staff — and even Prince Thor — tried, you couldn’t shake what had happened. But you still never told a soul.

I’m just not feeling well, you’d say.

Luckily, Prince Thor still kept you close. You wondered if he knew of the antics of his brother. You liked to believe he was protecting you, that he deemed you worthy of saving.

You still took your own precautions, though. You would make up any excuse not to serve at mealtimes or anywhere Prince Loki knew you frequented. Like the library, the gardens, or the kitchens. You’d rush to your room as quickly as you possibly could at the end of every night, praying you wouldn’t run into the Prince.

It worked for a few days. Until it didn’t.

You shut the door hastily and locked it, sighing in relief at the feeling of security. You turned slowly, feeling your heart plummet to the ground at the sight of the man sitting on your mattress.

“This is not very comfortable,” he said nonchalantly, like he hadn’t broken into your room. It was your only place of solace and you knew it would never feel that way again.

You didn’t say anything, you just looked at him in fear.

“I’ll arrange for you to have a new one put in as soon as possible,” he gave you an unnerving smile.

You didn’t know what to think.

“I have not been able to stop thinking about you, darling,” he stood from the bed. “The taste of you is otherworldly. Nothing compares.”

You took a step back as he took one towards you. “Prince Loki, you should not be here.”

“On the contrary, darling. I have to be here. I am drawn to you, to your sweet little hole. I must feel it. I must be the one to rid you of your innocence. I have waited,” he twirled a piece of your hair around his finger, “far too long.”

You felt your lips wobble, “please, no.”

“But I must, darling,” he made a faux face of worry, “it is your duty to serve me, is it not?”

A tear slipped. You wish you could say no, but he was right. Your mother had taught you to obey all orders no matter what. But this was too much. You didn’t react.

Prince Loki grabbed your chin, his cold, calloused fingers burned your skin. “I want to claim your innocence as my own.”

Tears were falling quickly now and you couldn’t stand it. You didn’t care about what your mother or the other servants had said. This is not what you wanted. He would not claim your virtue.

You shoved him away, bolting towards the door. You fiddled with the locks, holding out hope that you would get out. But your room was small. He had caught up to you before you could unlock it.

The Prince gripped your hair and yanked it back, using his free hand to hold your throat. “You will do as told.”

He shoved you back, causing you to fall onto your bed. The familiar scent of your sheets was tainted with his aroma. How long had he been there?

You wasted no time pulling your clothes off. His eyes were hungry as they raked over your body. You tried to fight him off, pry his hands off but he wouldn’t budge. You watched as he slipped your panties into his pocket. Did he have your other pair?

He leaned down to kiss your pussy, open mouthed and greedy. He moaned at the taste before standing and ridding himself of his bottoms. You tried to run again but he stopped you, giving you a look filled with venom.

You flinched back and he forced your legs open with his own. You feared looking down but you couldn't help yourself.

His cock was red and angry, it was curved and you couldn’t imagine it fitting inside you.

“Prince, no, please, please, no!” You writhed under him, pushing on the hands that held down your wrists.

He propped himself up, hold tight on your wrists as he spit onto your cunt. You weren’t wet this time, you knew that.

That didn’t stop him, he persisted. He gathered the spit with the tip of his dick, circling his hard shaft against your mount.

“Are you afraid?” He asked, eyes trained on your face as you looked down. “I know you are.”

You began to kick your legs. He rolled his eyes and forced your legs open wider with his own, limiting your movements.

His cock brushed your hole and you gasped at the feeling. He began to push himself in and you held your breath, your tears were hot and trailing down your face and neck.

It felt like his finger had, only worse. His cock was bigger and thicker. He leaned down to lap at your tears.

“My little virgin,” he whispered. “You’re all mine, darling.”

You were sobbing uncontrollably as he bottomed out. You still weren’t wet and it felt like sandpaper as he pulled out. It didn’t seem that way for him because his eyes rolled to the back of his head in pleasure. He spit a few more times before pushing back in.

You screamed in pain, hoping someone, anyone would come to help you. You knew they could hear you and that only added to your despair. “Please,” you repeated like a mantra. Plearse stop.

“So lovely when you beg, darling,” he said, burying his face into your neck. He licked at the tears that had fallen there and moaned at the taste before thrusting at a steady pace. You couldn’t stop crying.

“Relax, darling. I can feel you getting wetter by the second, just let yourself enjoy it.”

That couldn’t be true. There was no way you were ever going to enjoy an interaction like this. But soon you hear the squelching noises you had heard before and your body let out an involuntary moan. It was quiet but you knew he had heard it. He began to thrust faster, harder.

“You’re so tight, my darling.”

My darling. You felt sick.

You wanted to kick him, punch him, hurt him. He stole your virtue away. He had no right.

Or did he?

“You’re so obedient, my darling. You’re doing so well.”

Finally something had satisfied him, you thought.

You were sobbing as moans and whined fell from your lips, they mingled with his own sounds of pleasure.

You felt the familiar weight in your belly. No, no, no.

His fingers reached to rub circles into your mound. You didn’t last after that.

You spasmed around his cock, your walls clenched around it.

“Fuck, my darling, you’re heavenly,” he panted. “I’m gonna paint your insides white.”

You didn’t know what he meant by that but you didn’t want to find out. You weakly thrashed under him, straining against his hold on your wrists legs and legs.

A sudden burst of warmth shot through your body. He collapsed onto you while you laid frozen in shock.

He had bred you. Your mother had told you to never let a man breed you.

Princess Y/N was renowned for her timeless beauty, plump curves that somehow exuded both innocence and raw sensuality. And she belonged to him. So why not claim his prize a little bit early, he was sure she would fall easily into his arms like so many before her. As he carefully snuck through the extravagant castle, Loki’s mind conjured up images of the princess on her knees before him swallowing his cock, of her on her back, begging for his seed, of how beautiful she would look covered in bruises and bites, a silver collar with his name engraved on it, hanging from her delicate neck.

So caught up in his imagination, the prince didn’t notice the harsh sound of slapping skin as he approached her chambers. “Fuck, fucking take it princess.” A deep voice growled out from behind the dark wooden door, making Loki pause.

“Please!” That was definitely the princess’s voice but it sounded broken, tinged with tears. “This is my pussy isn’t it princess.” “Yes! Yes!” She cried, her cries being cut off by a harsh slap. “Can he fuck you like this? Can he make you feel this good?” 

Loki’s green eyes widened as she screamed a resounding “No!”.  Carefully, he turned the handle and cracked open the door, sucking in a breath at the sight before him.

The princess was on her hands and knees, her face pushed into a satin pillow, another below her ample hips as Bucky plowed into her, his thick cock already soaked with her juices. Their coupling was downright savage, the Knight seemingly laying a claim to her. “J-Jamie please!” His blue eyes darkened and his lip turned up in a vicious snarl. 

“Please what princess.” He growled, pinning her down by the back of her neck and bending over her, his incredibly muscular body pressing tightly to her soft one. “Lemme cum!” She sobbed, fat tears falling down her full cheeks, wetting the pillow. “No.” He answered and picked up his pace, slamming into her now and Loki had no doubt that he was bashing the entrance to her womb.

Anger and arousal curled in his gut at his bride being violated by a lowly knight. His fingers curled around the small blade he kept hidden on him at all times, fully prepared to eliminate the man that had taken what is rightfully his. 

“What if I finished inside you huh princess? What if I get you round with my children before that bastard? You never let me fill you with my seed, always making me pull out. But now, you won’t be able to. Because you’re mine, all mine, forever, even if you do marry him.” Bucky’s long brown hair hung over his face, as he pounded downwards, forcing all of his length in her quim.

Loki could see, even from this distance, the way her muscles spasmed and her back bowed, both attempting to run from the pleasure and embrace it. “‘M yours!” “That’s right princess, all mine.” He punctuated each word with a powerful thrust that pushed her towards the end of the bed so she was now splayed out beneath the knight, forced to take everything he was giving her. 

“I suggest you remove yourself from my bride before you find yourself in a shallow grave.” Y/N gasped and tried to pull away from her lover, her e/c eyes now sparkling with tears of fear instead of ecstasy. But Bucky didn’t relent, instead his hands held her wide hips even tighter and pulled her plump ass back into his pelvis and kept her there, his cock buried entirely inside her.

“She’s not yours. She will never be yours, your highness.” Loki’s jaw clenched tightly and he stepped forward. With a quick glint of silver, his dagger was pressed against the knight’s throat. “Rethink that, boy.” But James just chuckled and leaned into the blade, the sharp metal nicking his white skin. “She has been mine for years, what makes you think that you will ever best me. I know her body better than she does.”

Y/N whimpered when he emphasised his point with a targeted thrust to the sensitive ball of nerves within her. A glint in the swirling green of his eyes took Bucky off his guard for only a moment before he steeled his expression once more. “A challenge then, whosoever brings the princess the most pleasure gets to keep her.“

Loki stepped back for a moment and reached up to remove his shirt, exposing his lean torso to the pair, and then unlacing his trousers. “I will still marry her, but if you win, I will never lay with her, you will father all of her children, be her husband in everything but the law. If I win, however, which I have no doubt I will, you must watch as I take your precious love every night until my heir has been planted in her womb.” 

“W-wait.” She tried to interrupt but was quickly silenced by another brush of Bucky’s thick cock against her g-spot. “Fine then. I accept. Show me what you’ve got, your highness.” “Oh I plan to.” He strutted towards them, letting his pants fall to the floor as he reached them. “Let’s break the bed tonight.”

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Loki did want a wife, but he only wanted you. The two of you had been sneaking around far longer than the length of courtship— one you weren’t allowed to participate in.

Your father was disapproving of Loki, he wanted only the best for the princess, and the god of mischief didn’t meet his expectations. Because of your parents, you and Loki had to keep your love a secret, sneaking around the palace and the kingdom, always looking over your shoulders.

The two of you had fallen in love during your studies in Asgard, tutored in another wing of the castle. During some exploring, the two of you had met, and started spending time together in secret. You found that you had much in common with the mischievous god, and you were caught in star-crossed love.

.

“Y/N!” Loki whispered, appearing in his room. You jumped off the lounger and ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

He squeezed you tightly, burying his face in your neck.

“I’ve only got a few minutes. I’m sorry, my father is truly a bastard.”

You laughed, stroking your fingers through his curly hair. You kissed his cheek, prying him from your body.

“It’s okay. Can I come to you tonight? After all of this?” You asked.

“Always, my love.” Loki’s hands cradled your face. Your laid your hands over his, smiling up at the young god.

“Don’t kiss any of those other girls, Lo,” you teased, earning a scoff.

“Never… I wish you could be there.”

He pulled you into a kiss, his hand resting at the base of your spine, pulling your hips to his. Your arm hung around his neck, dragging him down to meet you.

“Gods, I adore you,” you breathed, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

“Not as much as I, you,” he smirked, running his tongue lightly over your lips before pushing inside, swallowing your soft hums of happiness.

“I want you forever. I wish I didn’t have to go entertain harlots.”

“Loki, don’t call them that,” you gently swatted his chest, squealing as he grabbed you and flipped your back against him, caging your body in strong arms.

“Master Odinson? Are you alright?” A servant called from the hall, hearing your squeal.

Loki’s hand went to cover your mouth, holding you tightly against his body. Your eyes widened and he gave you a look.

“I’m alright, it was the cat,” he lied, slowly releasing you.

“You best be out of here. My father will come for me if I don’t return to the courting. I’m sorry my love, I’ll join you later.”

You sighed, leaning back against him.

“Later, then?”

“Later. Come tonight, and you’ll have my full attention, my little star,” he kissed your cheek.

“Tonight.”

.

“You seem distracted.”

Loki turned to glare at Thor, shaking his head and swallowing down a drink.

“Who’s caught your eye, brother? I know there is someone, they’ve made you less insufferable. Clearly none of the women here though…” Thor mused, and Loki nearly dropped his glass in shock.

“You’ve been following me.”

“No, I’m only perceptive. So there is someone.” Thor was grinning, pleased to have out-witted, Loki.

“She’s unattainable. Her father doesn’t approve of me, so she isn’t here, courting,” Loki muttered, taking another swallow.

“So, her father doesn’t approve. You’ll be a king, Loki. Take your girl.”

Loki smiled at his brother’s sudden ferocious support. Thor was often on his nerves, but now he was thankful for his presence.

As the partying died down, the last of the heartbroken women being led out in tears, Thor occupied Odin so that Loki could slip away, unnoticed.

.

Loki crossed golden hallways, practically running back to his chambers. He slid through the doors, letting them close heavy behind him. The lock fell into place, enforced by magic, ensuring the privacy of your evening.

Loki saw you then, standing out on his balcony, the breeze blowing through your dress and wisps of hair that had fallen loose from its ties.

Your fingers rested on the balcony railing, and you were admiring the kingdom from above, radiant in the soft twilight. You looked stunning, and he admired you from the doorway.

“Y/N,” he finally caught your attention.

“Hi,” you broke into the softest grin, turning to face him.

“I’m yours. Entirely.”

“My prince.” You ran your fingers over his sharp cheekbones, along the raven edge of his hairline.

He wrapped his arms around your body, keeping you close. You nipped gently at his bottom lip, giggling as he growled against your neck, moving down to press kisses along the column of your throat.

You titled your head to the side, allowing his lips to explore your skin. A small sigh escaped you as he found a sensitive area, lightly sinking his teeth into your skin.

“Loki,” your voice rose several octaves, fingers clawing at the silk that covered his shoulders.

“We’ll be seen out here,” you reminded, and Loki broke away, pulling you inside.

He left the balcony doors open, letting in the pleasant night weather. He shimmered for a moment, left in only loose pants, showing off his broad chest. You smiled, admiring him from where you sat on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re staring, princess,” Loki smiled, and you nodded, not about to deceive the god of lies. 

Your laughter rang through his chamber as he dragged you onto his lap, pulling you to straddle his waist, pushing your skirts out of the way.

“There is no one else but you.”

Hooves pounded the dust and you stopped to watch the party of men on their galloping horses. You feared they would trample the fence as they neared and you backed up against the front of the inn, just feet away from the front door. Dirt powdered the air and the horse slowed before the fence that closed in the livestock.

A lithe man swung off a dark stallion, his own hair a similar shade of black that hung down his shoulders. His green cape swished around him and the other men dismounted with less grace. One of them approached; noblemen by the velvet of their capes and the silver on their belts.

“Rooms for the night,” He jangled a purse as his wavy orange hair fell forward over his brow. “And as much wine as you have.”

“We’ve more ale than wine,” You returned as you shifted the weight of the pail.

“Either will do,” The taller man with the black hair strode forward and slapped his gloves against his palm. His lip curled as he peered up at the inn. “I suppose we’ll have to take what we can get here.”

You looked between them and the other men traipsed behind as they chattered noisily. The black-haired noble looked down at you sharply.

“Well, little mouse, take your milk and prepare our quarters,” He nodded to the other man who waved the purse in your direction. “Or do you only tend to the animals?”

“My lord,” You cradled the bucket with one arm and snatched the purse. “All will be arranged. I will inform the inkeep of your arrival.”

“I suppose venison would be out of the question,” He ventured.

“Rabbit or hen.” You countered. “My lord.”

“Your highness, actually,” He corrected. “Prince, if you must.”

You squeezed the purse and nodded as your brows twitched. “Your highness.” You repeated and bowed as well as you could with your armful. “If you follow me, might take a left after we enter and seat yourself in the common room.”

You spun on your heel and continued your path to the front door. You pushed through with your hip and called to Celeste. “Party of five. Is there any wine left?”

“We’ve a cask from Mirraine,” She said. “Bitter red.”

“Fetch that and a barrel of ale,” You passed the front counter where she sat and wove thread around a frame. “And show these lords to the tables. I’ll tell Giles to hurry.”

“And your father?” She asked.

“He’s your husband.” You shrugged. “I thought he was still abed.”

“I wouldn’t blame him for hiding there for your nagging,” She stood. “He is in the kitchen.”

You stopped as she neared the end of the counter and lowered your voice. “Save that sharp tongue for me, stepmother. A prince will not be so tolerant.”

“Prince?” Her lashes fluttered and she smoothed her apron. “Perhaps you should bide your own warning.”

She brushed past you and you continued down the hallway between the counter and the stairs that led to the mostly vacant rooms. You swung the door open with your foot and passed through to plop the pail on the table within. Giles yawned as he sat on a stool and stared at the fire stove. Your father swirled a stein and watched the foam thin.

“We’ve customers. Rooms and dinner, expected.” You announced. “Noblemen… and a prince.”

Your father’s stein slammed on the table. He blanched and Giles gave another disinterested yawn.

“What’s on the spit today?” Your father hissed at the cook.

“Rabbit?” Giles frowned. “I think.”

“Aye, you fool,” Your father smacked the back of his head. “A prince you said?”

“Yes. Black hair. I suppose it is the younger.” You answered.

“Loki,” Your father coughed. “Shit.”

“You know a prince, father?” You challenged.

“Know of him,” Your father said. “Don’t be a mare, daughter.”

“There should be enough cream for a dessert.” You offered. “We’ve flour. A pastry could be devised.”

“Where is your mother?”

“Your wife? Why she’s entertaining the prince and his men.” You scoffed. “Think I saw her pinch her cheeks to try to get some colour back in her jowls.”

“Don’t be so crass. Go, send her to bake the dessert then and take some cups for our guests.” Your father spat. “And smile. You look at the prince like that and he might march us all to the scaffold.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” You grabbed a tray and loaded it with empty steins and a few goblets. “If anything, it will be Celeste who has us whipped.”

Your father snorted darkly and you turned with your fare. You pushed through the door once more and made your way to the front room where the men sat around one of the round tables. You neared as your stepmother giggled, a piglike noise, and you stopped beside her.

“Father would have you prepare dessert,” You said to Celeste as you neared. “Did you send for the kegs?”

“The stable boy had run to fetch them,” She sneered. “You might have rolled the dough yourself.”

“I might have,” You tilted your head. “But I do as my father bids me. As you vowed to do, did you not?”

She huffed and left you. Godwin appeared with a dark cask in hand and lugged it to a table. He wiped his forehead, his lanky arms trembling. “I’ll have the ale shortly, miss,” He panted. “And a tap.”

“Thank you, Godwin,” You said and you didn’t miss his lingering gaze. 

He’d been sweet on you for years, even after you’d rebuffed him at the harvest feast last season. You placed your tray behind the cask and waited. Godwin returned, breathless and beet red as he dragged the barrel. You helped him lift it beside the cask and took the tap from him.

“Go see to the horses.” You said. “Find a brush if you can.”

You watched him go and crossed back to the table of nobles. “I’ve enough wine for you each to have at least a cup and more than enough ale to go around. So what shall I fetch you, my lords? And your highness?” You bowed your head at Prince Loki.

“Wine,” The prince spoke first.

Only one other requested wine and you went about your duty. You served Loki first and then his men. They grew louder as you left them to their drinking and you went through to the kitchen to check in on your measly staff.

“Don’t serve them the heels, you dolt,” Your father snarled at Giles. “And trim the mold off the cheese.”

“Ah, I see, only the finest for the royal prince.” You mused.

“Don’t,” Your father rounded the table. “Help your mother.”

“Your wife,” You insisted once more as you watched Celeste beat the dough.

The door swung behind you as your father left and you neared your stepmother. She seemed as angry at the dough as she usually was at you.

“Don’t you dare touch it,” She warned. “You’ll ruin it.”

“I’ll ruin it,” You rolled your eyes. “Sure.”

“A prince. Imagine it.” She went on as she folded the dough. “Here, of all places. Just hope your father doesn’t join them for a pint.”

“Ha, as if they’d have him.” You shook your head.

“You’re one to talk about being had,” Celeste hissed. “If we don’t find you a husband soon, I don’t even think the convent will take you.”

“You think my father is a prize, do you?”

The door swung and you turned as you father stomped through. “Aye, what they say has to be true. Sly little bugger. Tongue on him.” He adjusted his belt below his stomach. “Daughter.” He waved to the door. “Go keep the drink flowing. That prince did not think the wine so sweet from my hand.”

“The dessert--”

“Don’t be wise with me,” He warned. “The prince wants you serving his meal this evening. He paid me good coin for it, so go out and see if you can’t get more.”

You hid a scowl and sidled past your father. You wiped the irritation from your brow and returned to the common room. You neared the table and folded your hands over your apron.

“Your highness, my lords? Do you require another round?”

“Do you have water without scum?” The prince asked. “If not, I’ll take some of that milk you dragged in.”

“I’ll fetch you some milk, your highness,” You returned. “And you, sirs?”

“We can work a tap,” The one with orange hair said. “Or figure it out. Thank you, lady.”

“She sweeps the hay, Hugh, she’s not a lady.” The prince snickered. “Milkmaid, I await my second round.”

You did your best to smile, not your best skill, but you tried for fear you might growl. You returned to the kitchen and filled a cup with milk. You skimmed the top and swept back out before your stepmother could notice you. You went back to the prince’s table and set down the cup lightly.

“Your highness.” Another man had risen and bent at the barrel to fill his stein. “Your dinner will be out, shortly.”

“Mmm, I’ve not tasted rabbit since before Easter.” He said. “Always rather unappetizing but you peasants are resourceful.”

“Your highness.” 

You dipped your head and backed away. You stood by the wall and stared at the one opposite as the men’s voices garbled in your ears. You waited until you smelled the roasting meat and you marched to the kitchen. Giles divided the meat onto plates with sliced bread, chunks of cheese and slightly singed potatoes.

You took two and went to the front room to serve. You placed one before the prince first, he watched you with a smirk as he leaned back in his chair and you set the other down carefully. You made another two trips until the table was full and the men were chewing between their bawdy words.

Your father appeared shortly after and asked how the men liked the food. All but the prince kept chewing and grunted in delight. Loki however made a comment about the chewiness of the meat. He was likely right but this wasn’t exactly a royal castle. It was a roadside inn where most of the patrons patched their clothing and would settle for a stick of salted meat and moldy bread.

When their plates were empty, you cleared them and dumped them in the basin in the kitchen. Celeste fretted over whipping the cream as her pastries cooled. She dolloped the cream onto them and acknowledged you with a snort.

“That prince is handsome but a right arse.” She muttered. “Your father said he didn’t like the rabbit. I mixed the seasoning myself.”

“Mm,” You took two plates and turned away. “Well you don’t have to tend to him.”

“If I was your age, he might just like that,” She snipped. “If you didn’t look like you were chewing on salt, he might give you a second glance.”

You didn’t respond and carried on. You delivered the six dishes in several trips and refilled a few steins as the men dug in. The barrel was close to empty, the cask too. They’d made quick work of your father’s meagre fare.

The prince beckoned you over, as he had many times, two fingers flicking you over as your father hovered in the next room by the counter. You went to him and lowered your chin as you recited a “your highness.”

“I would hope to retire soon. A bath should be drawn as well.” He bid.

“Certainly, I’ll have Godwin--”

“You,” He pointed at you with a long finger. “You’re a strong girl, you can handle it yourself.”

“With all due respect, your highness, I think it more appropriate--”

“I think I gave you an order,” He stood and reached to his belt and dug around in his purse. “And it would not go unrewarded. Good service never does.” He flipped the coin then held it out to you. You glared at it.

“Your highness,” Your father approached. “Is there an issue?”

“Not at all, I was only requesting that your daughter draw my bath for the evening.” He smirked. “I did offer her compensation for the task.”

“And she will tend to that immediately,” You father took the coin and your hand and pressed them together. “Right, daughter? You might get the water boiling.”

“Yes, father.” You bit down. “Your highness.”

You drew your hand away and bowed your head. You backed away and quickly skirted off to the kitchen. You snapped at Giles to grab the big pot and send Godwin for water. Celeste grinned up at you as she bit into one of the pastries.

“He is demanding, isn’t he? I’m almost ready to see my own bed for the night since my duties are all done.” She taunted.

“You might do better there. Out of the way of those who actually work.” You jibed.

She flinched and blew cream at you angrily. You kept clear of the mess and Godwin returned with the big pot of water. It was hung in the large fireplace and you waited listlessly for it to boil.

You lugged the first pot up and dumped it into the long tub in the chambers set out for the prince. You descended and repeated the process; another pot up the stairs, steaming up your arms. 

The door was closed that time and you knocked with your toe. The prince opened it, his leather vest half unbuttoned.

“Ah, I did think there would be more to it,” He sneered.

“Your highness.” You said.

He backed up to let you through and you poured the pot into the tub, careful not to splash yourself with the water. He let you back out and your third pot was soon shaking over the flames. When you returned to him again, his vest was gone and his tunic hung low on his chest.

The fourth, and his belt was gone, his tunic too, and his undershirt was all that covered his torso. The fifth, his boots gone, socks too. The sixth, leggings slung over the single chair and he stood in only his undershirt. It hung to his thigh and you feared it might shift a little too much.

“Would you like some cold water to ease the heat, your highness?” You asked as you turned back to the door. 

He was quick, his long legs carried him to the door before you could reach it. He caught the wood and blocked you from the hall.

“I like it hot.” He said. “You can set the pot down and tend to my bath.”

“I have, your highness.” You insisted.

“You’ve filled it, yes,” His brow slanted. “But since I’ve traveled without my attendant, I haven’t anyone to scrub me clean and your inn has done little to cleanse me of the filth of the road.”

“You paid me to bring you water--”

“I paid you a pretty coin for that then,” He interjected, “And I paid your father enough that he told me you are free of your other tasks for the night. You will see to me.” He pushed the door closed. “I know you’ve likely never met a prince before, most certainly haven’t. There’s only two of us.” He loomed over you. “But I trust you know a prince’s word is as good as law.”

He pushed himself away and spun away from you. Your eyes flew up as he grabbed his undershirt and ripped it up over his head. The fabric fluttered to the floor and you clutched the handle of the pot. Your father would sell you like some cattle; you were only surprised he’d waited for a prince to do so.

“Well, put that pot down and grab a sponge. I will soak a while first but I expect you to be prepared. Diligent.” He hummed as he leaned back in the hot water. “I know you are only used to common merchants.”

You were silent. You placed the pot on the floor but stayed by the door. You slowly moved along the wall and went to the pail in the corner of the room next to the low table. You bent and took the sponge from within and the spouted wooden cup. You lingered in the corner and dreaded the moment he would call to you.

“I must admit, I know little of your...bearing. I do tend to avoid the unwashed masses.” The water moved as he spoke. “I mean, your ilk don’t bathe very much, do they?”

“Every Sunday after chapel.” You said evenly. “We gather at the river.”

“We? All of you? Like beasts.” He laughed.

“The women. Children, too. The men bathe during the week.” You explained. “But I suppose a prince might wash more often.”

“I do find the hot water as calming as it is cleansing,” He replied. “Why, it is Thursday. You worked hard today. Another few days is long to wait.”

You squeezed the sponge and pressed it to the cup.

“A prince must be generous,” He began slyly. “So for this day my act of royal charity is to share with you, a common girl, my bath.”

“Your highness, I don’t think--”

“I did not ask and it is unseemly to deny a prince his favour.” He rebuked. “So you get over here and you wash yourself.” He looked over his shoulder dangerously. “I would rather you clean.”

You crossed the room and kept your back to the prince as you passed and stood at the other end of the tub. You placed the cup by the tub and tucked the sponge inside. You straightened and untied your apron. You moved to put it on the seat of the chair. Then you unlaced the collar of your dress and paused. You took a breath before you pulled it over your head.

You bent to loosen your boots. Your stockings were as reluctantly shed. You rose, left with only your shift. The water swirled noisily. Your father had never been much of one. He worked you morning to night, he never thanked you for a deed you did, and he barely noticed your presence unless it served his needs. You weren’t surprised, nor disappointed, you were only annoyed at the circumstance.

You drew your shift up your legs and bunched it in your hands. You tore it off in a final swoop of resignation. You stood, your chest rising and falling, as you stared at the far wall. You gritted your teeth and forced down the nerves.

“Well, that was… dramatic,” He remarked. “But really, the water is bound to cool before you touch it.”

You spun around and marched to the tub. You reached to the brim but refused to look at the water or him. You lifted a leg over the edge and he let out a hum. You lowered your other leg into the steaming water as he sat up.

“Go on,” He said. “Clean yourself. I can smell the sty on you.”

You bent over the side and grabbed the sponge from cup. You focused on wetting it and scrubbing at your skin. You stretched out your arms, lifted one leg then the other, and rubbed your chest raw. Your eyes clung to the ceiling. The water shifted and the shadows around you did too.

He stood and grabbed your hand. He guided it to his chest and kept the sponge moving in circles. You looked at his face as he smirked at you. His other hand tickled your side. He let go of you and you kept going; across his shoulders, his neck, his arms, his chest, his stomach. 

He caught your wrist and squeezed until you dropped the sponge. He pushed your palm to his member; it was hard as he slid his hand around yours and bent your fingers. His touch danced up your back and settled behind your neck as he pulled you close.

“I know you’ve never touched a prince like this before,” He said. “But what about another man? Hmm?”

You gulped as you looked him in the eyes. You shook your head defiantly. He moved your hand up then back down. His cheek twitched and he let out a thick breath. He kept your hand moving along his member as his grip tightened on your neck. He leaned in until his lips almost met yours.

“I’ve never had a woman, princesses, duchesses, ladies, queens, even, look at my the way you do,” He snarled. “And it has me mad.”

“I don’t know what you mean--”

“You despise me. You don’t even know me,” His lips brushed yours. “But you know I am a prince, I am your superior, and you curl your lip at me.”

“I don’t--”

He pressed his lips to yours and kissed you hungrily as the steam floated around your bodies. He kept your grasp firm on him as he carried the motion steadily. He groaned into your mouth and suddenly let go. He held your head with both hands as if to devour you. You stumbled in the tub, held up only by his unbreakable grip.

He parted as his long fingers framed your jaw. His green eyes burned into yours as you gaped at him. He kissed you again, this time nibbling your lip as he drew away. He snarled as he did and his hand slipped down your shoulders and lingered on your chest. He pinched one nipple then the other and his fingers crawled lower.

His other hand settled on your throat as his finger poked between your legs. You squeezed your thighs together and he gave a growl. It was a warning. He slid along your folds and teased your sensitive bud. You gasped as he was close to choking you entirely.

He prodded along your entrance and delved inside. You nearly bit your tongue as you closed your mouth and grabbed his arm to keep from slipping. Your eyes rounded as he grinned. He moved his hand slowly as you felt a ripple along your thighs.

“Inexperienced but not innocent,” He purred. “Darling, you feel wonderful.”

You clawed at his bicep as he rocked his hand against you, your body shaking in tandem. You wanted to hate it. You had to hate it and yet it felt so good.

“Turn around,” He commanded as he ripped his hand from between your legs. “Now.”

He released you entirely and you stumbled back and caught yourself on the side of the sub. He stroked himself as he watched you and spun his finger in the air. You turned, slowly. You leaned heavily on the side of the tub as your legs felt likely jelly and your core pulsed hungrily. You wanted more and yet you wanted to run away.

He slapped your ass. Hard. Your knees buckled. He gripped your hips and steadied you. He stepped closer and rubbed his member against your ass. His hand ran along your flesh and he guided his tip down. He reached your entrance and inhaled suddenly. He held himself there, barely touching you as his fingers curled into your hip.

“It’ll hurt. At first.” He rasped. “But that only makes the pleasure…” He slid past your entrance slowly and you stretched around him. You squeaked in shock. “...greater.”

The deeper he got, the harder it was to measure your voice. He was right about the pain. More, more, more; you feared it wouldn’t stop. When he did, when he reached his limit, you were bent over, hands on the side of the tub, bracing yourself as you were afraid your legs would collapse.

He pulled back and slammed into you again. You cried out, loudly, and clapped your hand over your mouth. He chuckled and did it again. His wet flesh reverberated against yours. He did it, again, again, again. Each time he paused and basked in the sound; basked in your murmurs as you struggled not to scream.

“You are tight, darling,” He groaned. 

You quivered and held onto the tub as your body was jolted by his. He rutted into you quicker and quicker. He was insatiable and each time he thrust, his hunger seemed to deepen. His voice turned animalistic and his fingers got firmer around your hips. The water splashed around your legs and added to the medley of lurid sounds.

You arched your back as the waves swelled within you and you felt them cresting, ready to crash. You hissed through gritted teeth and your voice cracked as you exclaimed. The feeling was overwhelming, the sensation stifling as it filled your veins. Your eyes rolled back and you hung your head as your walls pulsed around his member.

“Ah, darling, I feel you,” His hands slipped up to your waist and he pulled you back against you as he rammed into even harder. “That’s it… bend for your prince.”

He grunted as he bent over you and hooked his arm around your stomach. He stood and drew you up with him. You were on your toes as he jerked into you violently, his other hand on your chest as he pressed his cheek to yours. His voice swirled in your head and added to the heat in your core.

“That’s it, that’s it…” He chanted as his flesh slapped against yours.

You clawed at his thigh as he hammered into you and finally he slowed with a surprised cry. His hips spasmed and you felt a sudden swell of warmth inside of you. You trembled as he slowed and stilled your body. You were breathless but buoyant. You’d never felt so light yet heavy at the same time. He was the only strength left to you as he held you up.

Loki had spoken with Sif – one of Asgard’s best warriors – and Sif had agreed to train Astrid, the fair maiden wanted to be a warrior just like her father. The letter contained arrangements for her to be fitted with suitable armour and weapons later on that afternoon. She was due for her first training session the following day.

Loki closed his book and stood up, intending to see his mother and father, Astrid had shown an interest in the old wing of the palace which was shut up behind a locked door and she was curious as to what was inside. She noticed it when Loki was showing her around the palace. Loki wanted to know what was in there as well since the story around the palace was that the old wing had been closed before he was even born. He knew that Odin and Frigga must have the key, his father probably wouldn’t allow him to have it but he was confident that his mother would talk his father round.

As he strode up to the golden doors of the throne room he lowered his raised fist when he saw that the door was open just a crack. The King and Queen seemed to be quarrelling inside, Loki couldn’t remember the last time his parents quarrelled, it must have been when he was a child.

“Please my love, they’ve been growing fond of each other over the span of a couple of months! Don’t you want our son to know his future wide a little before they marry?” Frigga sounded distressed. Loki wanted to go in and help her but he was curious as to what his father would respond with.

“If they’re growing fond of each other then that’s all the more reason to keep them in separate chambers. If he gets her pregnant,” his father sighed and trailed off.

“Well, they’re going to marry in less than a year so if he does get her pregnant it makes no matter,” there was a long silence before Frigga spoke up again, “ah, I see, you only want to hold onto this alliance if it’s absolutely the last option!”

Loki had never heard his mother sound so cold. Was his father planning to marry him off to somebody else? He didn’t understand.

“Remember how this alliance was born Odin, it was born from your tyranny! We cannot go back on it.”

Loki decided that he’d heard enough, shaking his head, he pushed open the door. His parents stopped talking immediately and looked at him. Odin looked angry and Frigga looked worried.

“Loki sweetheart, is everything alright?” Frigga smiled as she descended the steps that led up to the throne of Asgard and combed her gentle fingers through Loki’s hair, “have you been showing Astrid around the palace?”

“Yes mother, that’s partly while I’m here,” he hesitated as he looked past his mother at his father who was eyeing him suspiciously, “I wanted to show her the entirety of the palace,” Frigga nodded for him to continue, “I came to ask whether I could have the key to the old wing. We want to discover what’s inside.”

Frigga chewed her lip; her eyes were soft as she parted her mouth to say something before his father interrupted, “no! That wing has been closed for over 20 years; do you really think that I’d open it just for you?”

Loki glared at his father, “please father, I,” he was cut off by Odin.

“It’s nothing but dust and stone, it’s dangerous. It’s closed for good reason,” Loki sighed, knowing there was no way he could change his father’s mind.

“Come on sweetling, I’ve got something to give you,” Frigga smiled as she led her son out of the throne room, “I know that look Loki, I’m sorry but your father is right. There is nothing but rubble and danger in that wing.”

They entered Frigga’s chambers that Loki hadn’t been in since he was a boy; it was just as pretty as he remembered.

“Mother, why didn’t father marry off Astrid to Thor? He is the future King and she’s a future Queen,” Loki asked, he wouldn’t change anything but it had been gnawing at his mind for quite some time now.

Frigga looked at him with the most unreadable expression before quickly turning away, “your father wanted to but Astrid’s father disagreed. Terrible things can happen to future Kings, Loki,” the explanation seemed loose but he didn’t want to argue with his mother.

“Ah, here it is,” Frigga smiled and turned back around from her writing desk and dropped a silver key on a golden chain into Loki’s hand. Loki stared at it for a second before raising his eyebrow; he had no idea what this was for.

“It’s the key to the garden, my garden. The one that’s hidden beneath the ivy, your father constructed it for me when we married. Unfortunately, it’s fallen into disrepair due to my duties here, it is now Astrid’s, I hear she has a green thumb. It will be a good place for your children to play in.”

Loki flushed a pretty shade of scarlet as his mother mentioned children, he tried to imagine himself as a father, and he made a vow to himself that he’d be a better father than Odin. He’d actually spend time with his children and make it perfectly clear to them that he loved them as was proud of them. The prince smiled as he closed his hand over the small key, “thank you mother,” he grinned, kissing his mother’s powdered cheek, “if you’ll excuse me.”

Frigga nodded and bowed her head, “of course my son, I hope that Astrid likes the garden,” Loki smiled and left his mother’s chambers.

Right about now Astrid would be on her way to get her armour and weapons fitted but there was somebody that he needed to apologise to. Then his conscience would finally be clear. He found Mara walking down the hallway with Sif; she was wearing the flower crown that Astrid had made for her from the spring flowers. With Mara’s kind face, long white blonde hair and big blue eyes that you could drown in she seemed to be the picture of innocence. After all this time it seemed like she could be in fact innocent.

“Mara?” he called out and the two ladies looked at him expectantly, “may I have a word with you?” he asked, glancing at Sif, “privately,” he added.

Mara nodded and smiled at Sif before walking to Loki’s side, “can I just tell you first that you’ve made Astrid the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”

Loki chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m sure it’s not just down to me. I wanted to apologise for accusing you of trying to kill Astrid but really you can’t blame me. All that unmistakable evidence pointed to Arna. I’ve still got my eye on you though.”

Mara smiled, “Loki, you don’t need to worry, I saw how upset everybody was when Arna tried to poison her, I don’t want to cause that kind of pain, especially not for you.”

“What about getting back to your family? I thought you had to kill a princess in order to get back to them?”

Mara shrugged, “I’ve been with Astrid for so long that she has become my family. I was foolish to not see it before.”

Loki wondered what it was that had caused Mara’s sudden change of heart, maybe it was how she said, she had sounded sincere. He was still going to keep his guard up, he had met extraordinary liars before, himself included, and “very well, I believe you. Could you do me a favour and ask Astrid to meet me by the wall of ivy round the back of the palace? Alone?”

“Yes Loki, I will. Good day to you,” Mara nodded as she walked back down the hallway to join Sif again.

----------------------------------------

Astrid giggled as she closed her eyes and put her hand in Loki’s, she heard the rustle of leaves being pushed aside and a heavy key turned in the lock. It was when she heard the creak of a door that she really started to get impatient.

“Loki,” she whined in a way that was very unbecoming of a princess, Loki laughed and moved a hand to her waist, leading her further and further.

“You can open your eyes soon, I promise, I just wanted this to be a surprise,” Astrid felt a kiss on her cheek and she flushed pink at his gentle touch. She walked a little farther and it felt like she was wading through oceans of long grass, “okay, you can open your eyes now.”

Astrid grinned and opened her eyes, gasping in awe as she did so; she was in what looked to be an overgrown jungle. On closer inspection it was a garden, complete with a stone marquee and a swing. Even though it looked like the garden hadn’t been touched in many years Astrid could still smell the faint scent of the wild flowers. In the centre of the garden there was a statue of a handsome prince and a beautiful princess dancing together. It seemed to be a very romantic place, just like a story and Astrid loved it.

“What is this place? It’s so beautiful,” she smiled, sitting on the stone step of the marquee.

“My father had it constructed for my mother when they married,” Loki gestured at the statue of the prince and princess, “she wants you to have it and so do I. I think it’s an early wedding present,” he chuckled.

Astrid gasped in delight, “really?” she looked around the garden and she could see exactly where she would plant the roses and forget me nots. She could just imagine the number of animals that would be attracted to the garden.

“Really,” Loki grinned, his hand coming up to rest on her cheek, he bowed his head at the same time that Astrid stood on her tiptoes. They shared their kiss in the garden that had been empty for so long and would soon be brimming with life again.

Astrid felt the gentle kiss of the snowflakes on her nose and she thought it odd that it was snowing in spring. She opened her eyes and saw that it was a large room shrouded in ice and snow. She heard her name whispered through the snow like a soft breath, she followed the voice and it led to a man in shackles that had icicles all over his face.

When he grasped her hand he was so cold that it turned her hand blue and she couldn’t feel her fingers, the man spoke in a hoarse whisper, “don’t drink the wine. Don’t drink the wine at the celebration, whatever you do.”

“Get away from me,” she cried, suddenly very afraid as she tried to pull her hand out of his grasp, “leave me alone!”

She bolted up in bed with a shrill scream and screamed once more when she saw Loki standing in the doorway, “what’s the matter?! You were crying and screaming.”

“I had a bad dream,” she said, suddenly feeling embarrassed, “will you stay with me? Please?” she asked in a small voice, moving over to make room for him.

Loki nodded with a smile, sliding in next to her and when he wrapped her up in his arms the dream didn’t seem so terrible after all. It was a strange one though and she wouldn’t be forgetting it anytime soon.

---------------------------------------- 

His thoughts stray to you. Sparkling eyes. Radiant smile. How you look content as the sea splashes onto your face, eyes closed and always with a deep breath that shows how much you love your life. And the knowledge that he could hurt you by showing he had been hurt twists at his heart. He couldn’t do that, couldn’t put you in any more danger than what you have living the life you lead. 

“Thank you,” Loki says and closes his hand around the bottle. “I know the wound isn’t much compared to some, but…”

“Your wound is plenty. I’ve seen worse and I’ve seen less,” replies Stephen. He lets out a sigh and sits down in the chair across from Loki. “Believe me, sometimes Tony is the worst.”

Loki nods. “Not taking care of himself? Making himself less valuable than he is?” 

Stephen nods. “It’s like he doesn’t understand that someone can care for him, yet he keeps making sure I do not get into trouble. He keeps making sure I know my worth even when he waves away his own, the worth he is to me.”

“She’s the same.” He traces his fingers over the text on the bottle. “Every time we’ve met in the past years, she always had a new wound, a new scar. Something to show we had not seen each other in a while. But whenever I asked, she would laugh, she would say something acknowledging the gap between our positions in society. And she would change the topic to one where we aren’t compared.” 

“They seem to have very little regard for their own lives, but when it is our lives questioned, they don’t hesitate to worry.” 

“Exactly.”

---

“You really want to bet, Steve?” you ask the first mate, who leans against the railing next to you in a manner all too relaxing for Loki’s taste. 

“Yeah, why not?” he replies. “Should get my money’s worth for once.” 

Loki takes the last step toward you. The difference in reaction to his presence is stark. Where your eyes sparkle and shine at the sight of him, Steve presses his lips together and avoids looking his way. 

“Now, what if we see who won the bet, huh?” You wink at Loki as you smirk at Steve and Loki wishes to always see you like this; happy, content, and in charge in ways he didn’t even think were possible before. 

Steve shakes his head, but you nod and turn your smile to Loki again. “Love,” you say, “do you, despite your differences, think Rogers here to be a handsome man?”

There’s a pained expression on Steve's face, but in yours there’s only asking. Loki wonders if there’s something more behind the question, maybe something he doesn’t want to know. 

Loki turns his gaze to the first mate. He lets his eyes travel from Steve’s shoes, up his muscled legs with thighs that makes his pants look awful tight (in a good way), and up his torso that does the exact same and especially twists Loki’s gut at the little display of chest by the neckline where the shirt has been left untightened. He lets his eyes travel up Steve’s neck, where he can see the man’s adam’s apple bounce during a swallow, and up to his beard and his blonde locks and his pink lips and his blue eyes and… Loki’s gonna stop watching Steve now before his thoughts are shown in his pants. 

He nods and shrugs. “I’d say he’s alright, yeah. Why do you ask?” 

“Haha,” you say, the triumph clear in your voice, “told you.” 

Steve shakes his head and regards Loki with a… Loki can’t place the look, but it is highly unlike the teasing one he’s been giving for the past five days. Maybe Steve saving him yesterday had done something? Or had Loki become intimidating after showing his magic? 

He isn’t sure, but he quite likes this squirming side of Steve. Maybe the first mate has something to him Loki never thought possible? 

Loki shakes off the thought and turns his attention to you. He takes a step closer and welcomes the arms you wrap around his torso. He will never get tired of you leaning your head against his chest, never tire of your breath on him, never tire of the butterflies that spring to life at your touch. His fingers start to tread through your hair, and even if he thinks the sight makes Steve slightly uncomfortable―the dude is practically squirming (more than before)―Loki has no intention of letting you go. 

After two days of worry, he has found his place. Maybe that’s just as your lover, but either way, that’s his place. 

Steve coughs a little for your attention. You cock your head towards him, and raise a brow. 

“I just… Are you coming along ashore? I know Stark and Barnes are going, and some of the crew you’ve assigned tasks. Are either of you coming along?” 

The smile grows on your face and a small laughter rumbles out. “Yup. I think both of us. We’ve all got some need to stretch our legs on land now, I think. If you see Stark, tell him to bring Stephen and the kid, and if you see Clint tell him he’s staying with Nat ‘cause I don’t trust the other shitheads here with that.”

Steve nods. “Aye aye, Captain.” He mocks salutes, which draws a small laugh from you, and then leaves. 

Both you and Loki follow the man with your gaze as he walks down to the lower decks. Loki smiles and turns his gaze back to you. “I’m starting to like him more and more, if I’m being honest.” 

You scoff. “You only like the fact that he’s practically stopped teasing you and become more or less afraid.”

“You might be correct, darling,” replies Loki, “but do tell why he’s afraid.”

“Oh, you know, the basic that he’s catching feelings he didn’t think he could catch. You know, before he met you he’d never met a prince, always talked bad ‘bout ‘em. Now, he can’t stop talkin’ ‘bout how amazing you are.”

Loki shakes his head. “I think you might be wrong.”

You smile and tiptope up to press a kiss to his lips. “‘M sorry, love, but I’m not. The dude’s fallin’ and I think he’s fallin’ hard. Just ask Barnes, they grew up together.”

“A little afraid of Barnes, but I’ll try.” Loki cups your face and captures your lips in a kiss. He smiles into it, and he can feel your smile, too. “But before that, and before we dock, let’s use the time we have, huh?”

You laugh. It’s this melody in Loki’s ears and he smiles at the sound. And taking it as a welcome sign, he sweeps you off your feet and carries you back to your cabin. He’s gonna take every minute he can get of time with you. 

---

There is little crowd at the port. A few docked ships lines the bay, none as big as Vicious Storm and all with no visible crew. Stark, Stephen and Peter already left with a list of things to buy (Stark as the master carpenter knows best what needs to be fixed), and Barnes and Wilson left with a list of errands. 

You, Steve and Loki stand at the main deck. You and Romanoff in the middle of a conversation, and Clint chatting with Loki. Steve stands a little off to the side, and the change in his behaviour the last couple of days has become obvious to more than just Loki, and he’s about to ask Clint about it when Barnes and Wilson walk up the gangplank. 

“You got to do everything?” you ask them as they move to your little group. 

Barnes nods, only gives a smile and walks over to Steve. The two walk a little ways from the group, and Loki tries not to let his curiosity show. Instead he tries to focus on Wilson’s voice as he relays some of what he and Barnes did. 

“―and I’m not too sure the prince should go.” 

That catches Loki’s attention. He looks to you, who only looks at Wilson to have him explain. 

“The news on the street is a prince kidnapped by pirates,” he says. “Doesn’t say who the pirates are but it does say ‘prince of Asgard’.”

Loki curses his father, curses his brother, and a small ache in his heart at the thought of his mother. He looks to you, and, though there is a slight hint of worry in your eyes, the question on your face lets him know it’s up to him. 

He nods. “I want to go,” he says.

You nod. “I guess that’s it then. You guys hold the fort?” 

Clint and Romanoff nod. 

“Rogers!” You swirl around to face the two talking off in the short distance. The two turn to face the group. “Gotta get going. I wanna leave before the sun goes down.” 

A few moments later, you, Steve and Loki walk down the road to the market. It takes a few seconds before the first yell is heard; “Breaking news! Breaking news! Prince of Asgard kidnapped by vicious pirates.” 

You look to Loki. “Put your hood on, love,” you say, which he does. “And Rogers, this might not go the way we want, I want you on high alert.” There’s a shift in your voice between your request to him and when you talk to Steve, the authority clear as you order Steve. 

Moving further into the market, the ‘breaking news’ grows louder and clearer. Loki starts to believe maybe Wilson was right, but he doesn’t want to let that show. He keeps his head down, hides a little as you stop at various booths to buy something. However, at one point, you don’t stop to buy something. 

The man behind the counter, filled with flyers, looks you up and down. A half-smile tugs at the side of his lips and then he beckons you closer. “Tonight, after dusk, they’re gonna take control of all the ships docked. Been doin’ the last three days.”

You nod. “You got any information on whose orders they’re working’ on?”

“Kind Odin’s.”

A frown colors your face, and Loki’s thoughts wander where yours do. “He has no authority here, how?” 

“He has a deal with king Laufey,” Loki whispers, right as the guy says the same. However, the guy adds one thing Loki didn’t know; “rumor has it that the prince is really Laufey’s son, too, but both kings want to keep that a secret.”

In a swift hand shake, you slip the guy a few coins. You move back to walk next to Loki, Steve walking a few steps behind―Loki isn’t sure whether that’s to assess threats better or if he doesn’t feel comfortable walking closer to the two of you. 

“What do you think?” you ask, voice soft. 

Loki shakes his head, though he realizes that might not be too easy for you to spot with his hood on. “It does explain many things.”

You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and give it a squeeze. He squeezes back and peeks out from under the hood to send you a smile, which you return by tiptoeing and pressing your lips to his. 

It doesn’t matter what the rumors say, or that he’s being hunted back to his home. He’s with you, and everything is worth it. 

And, though he doesn’t want to admit it, meeting Steve hasn’t been so bad either. The man has, for some reason, made Loki feel things he’s only ever felt for you. He can’t explain it, and his feelings for you are there more than ever, but Steve is constantly at the back of his thoughts, creating the same fluttering as you do. 

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