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I Will Always Test You

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV


Iona grumbled to herself while she carried the dusty old books to the dungeons. 

"Take the books to the prince. Take the wine...take the damned raudrberries. They're his favourite! As if there's nothing better for me to do. Norns, I sometimes despise this station. This wasn’t why I had become the queen’s lady-in-waiting."

The magical garb provided by the queen protected her, so she didn't bother about keeping her volume low. At least she could air her frustrations this way before reaching her destination, which was bound to annoy her to no end.

When she reached the prince's cell, she stepped in through the one-way magical barrier and dumped the books onto his table without so much as a greeting to him.

"The queen sent these for you," she stated primly, looking down her nose at Loki.

She didn't even hide the disdain in her voice this time around. He was a disgraced royal now; he had no one’s favour save for the queen’s. And that certainly didn’t shield him from Iona’s burning contempt.

"If his royal highness needs anything, he may tell me. Though, I don't guarantee that it will be delivered to you.”

She smirked as he turned to glare at her.


“Ah, Iona. So lovely to see you again,” Loki growled sarcastically as he lounged on the divan, returning to the book he had been reading...though why he should continue to entertain himself with THAT now that she was here…

“Anything new in the outside world? Perhaps a death, or a coup, or a sneaky little minx that might accidentally cause my release?” He smirked and watched for her reaction.


She laughed acerbically at his insinuation.

"Oh please. As if releasing you will do anyone any favours. I happen to think that you're finally in a place where you belong," she quipped, sniffing haughtily, knowing that he hated seeing her act like this. "Though the queen, bless her sweet heart, has a soft spot for you the size of the Yggdrasil, even she won't think of doing it, I believe. She knows that her son is a walking, talking bad influence, an inglorious wretch ."


“Ooooh ‘inglorious wretch.’ Look at you, learning new insults. How long have you been waiting to call me THAT one, sweetling?” Loki stood, eyes still locked on her as he brought himself to his full height, intentionally becoming as intimidating as possible. He stared her down as he walked slowly towards her, taking long and languorous steps, almost panther-like.

“You’d know all about how bad of an influence I can be, won’t you, Iona? And since no one but my mother--who you already know is wrapped around my finger--knows you’re here… and no one outside can see anything unusual happening in this--” he waved his hand dismissively at the space around him “-- luxuriously accommodated fish bowl--” he bent down, nose to nose, daring her to flinch. “Perhaps you best watch your tone, girl.”


Iona tried her best to stand her ground, even though his proximity was unsettling. Damn him and his intimidation tactics.

"The queen may be bent on spoiling you, but she's not blind to your deeds, my prince," she said defiantly, placing a hand on his chest to push him back. The touch somehow felt more charged than it ought to; still, she persisted.

"But go ahead, deliver more empty threats. I'm really terrified ."

She stared back at him in challenge, knowing full well that he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life here in the dungeons. There was nothing he actually could do.

And even when he was free, he couldn’t do much, for he knew the immunity she enjoyed under the queen’s protection. Hence, his threats of harm were almost always empty…


Loki half-smiled at her retort. 

“I’m sure,” he purred, not moving an inch at her attempt to shove him back. “But a little terror --” he leaned closer, still focused on keeping her gaze firmly on his “--can add a bit of excitement to an otherwise dreary existence, can it not?”

His whole body pushed forward, forcing her back until she was pressed against the cell’s wall, and he chuckled from a very deep place in his chest. He tilted his head slightly to the side, watching her closely. “What kind of terror have you imagined I’m capable of, little one? I’ve attempted to destroy whole realms. I’ve nearly killed the mighty Thor on several occasions. I’ve survived more horrors than you could imagine…what can you do to resist me, you small, delicate little thing?”

He put a hostile finger under her chin, lifting her face to align with his.


"I'm not delicate ," she fumed, nudging his finger away. "And you've listed the precise reasons why you'll never escape this prison. Being born a prince is no accomplishment."

His eyes seemed to glow in anger at her words, and finally, she tried to slip away sideways against the wall to escape their intensity. It didn’t work, for he blocked her by putting his palms against the wall on either side of her.

Loki had always unsettled her with his strange, predatory mannerisms, but she wasn't a simpering girl. She had learned to deal with him over the years.

"You'd also do well to remember that I'm a lady , a noblewoman. Your threats can land you in even more trouble than you're already in."


“Define ‘more,’” he chuckled, finally backing away and laying back down in the divan, his legs spread obscenely wide. “You may be a lady, but I am a prince . Despite my transgressions. I outrank you.”

He noticed her gaze gravitating towards his spread legs, especially lingering on his crotch. That reaction from her alone made him feel quite smug about his physicality.

“Besides,” he said, stretching himself across the cushions of the furniture he’d chosen to support his lean frame in the most sexually seductive way he could manage. “It’s not my ambition that concerns me. It’s yours , your ladyship.” He grinned, wrapping his hand behind his head. “How long have we known each other, Iona? How long have you been desperate to become more than a ‘handmaiden to the Queen’?” 

His emerald eyes remained hooded as he settled back on his lounge.

“How many ages has it been since you decided you wanted to be a ‘princess’? And what, sweet girl, would you be willing to do for that title?”


She blanched at his insinuation, grasping the folds of her dress in consternation. How dare he!

It was true that she had been trained by her mother, since childhood, to somehow grow close to the royalty. Getting closer to the princes, in particular, had meant that one of them would eventually take interest in her.

However, that didn’t quite work out the way her ambitious parents had expected it.

Iona had not gotten along with Loki right from the start, for he had always managed to play some sort of mischief or trick on her. She didn’t think him unattractive--it was hard to miss his striking features--but she did think him utterly obnoxious. The obnoxiousness eclipsed the beauty in his case. 

Hence, Thor had been the only other option. Honestly, Thor wasn't the kind of man that usually attracted her, but still, she had tried her best to attract him in the past. And she had been unsuccessful in her endeavour.

Loki knew all about that. And hence, he was now taunting her.

"I'm after nothing, my prince. I aim to serve the queen, that's all," she lied, trying to regain her composure in front of the infuriating man. "You're trying to stir an empty pot."


He smirked. 

“Aha...” was his only response. God of Lies that he was, her charade merely amused him. And, now that he was facing an eternity of the same four walls, any amusement was gold.

“Well then. Best be on your way, to serve your queen .” He waited to see if she had more to say before departing… he certainly had a final word to give her, if she’d indulge him…


"Don't think to command me, fallen prince , I'm not your lady-in-waiting," she stated stiffly, her anger with him bubbling over in her words. "And as I said, do tell me what all you want. I'll relay it to the queen so that she can move ahead in her endeavour to spoil you rotten."


Loki settled deeper into the divan, leaving his legs spread as wide as he could. “Dear, if I were to tell you what I truly want, you would run from here, blushing like a virgin maiden. And despite your--” his hand circled in the air, as though he were trying to find the right words “-- insistence that my desires are those of a spoiled boy, I’m certain the queen would hardly be surprised by my… exotic tastes.”

Suddenly, his expression changed from one that was lax and disinterested to one that was challenging and feral.

“And what I want, the queen certainly can’t give me. That, little one, is solely up to you.”

He sat up, never breaking their intense eye contact.

“I admire your ambition, Iona. To become more than you were meant to be. To ruthlessly pursue what you want. You understand that drive; can you honestly judge me for making the attempt?” He stared at her, hard, awaiting her response.


Norns, the incorrigible man was pretending to be suggestive with her now… perhaps thinking that she’d be flustered.

She knew that this was all merely posturing on his part...

"I haven't any inkling of what you mean, Loki, for you and I are hardly comparable creatures," she said, deliberately taking his name this time, wanting to annoy him in turn with her impertinence. "But I do know that I haven't got the whole day to spend here. I'd rather do something much more engaging. This conversation is boring me to sleep."

She rolled her eyes at him and pretended to yawn.

"If that's all, and if you have no other requests to make, I'll be taking my leave."


“If that’s all...then I suppose that’s all.”

He smiled knowingly, picked up his book, and proceeded to completely ignore her.


She rolled her eyes again and then left in a huff, muttering to herself about the annoying jobs that the queen kept giving her. Why couldn’t she give this particular task to someone else? Why only her?


As she left… he checked out her ass--presented so well in that form hugging fabric of her dress. He wondered what it looked like under that flowing dress of hers. Perhaps, someday, he’d have a chance to find out...

To be honest, the girl was pretty enough, and he wasn’t averse to the idea of seeking pleasure between her willowy legs. Truth be told, her scathing wit was quite arousing… for nothing aroused Loki more than a sharp mind.

However, her transgressions against him were ever increasing, and hence, Loki also wished for a bit of revenge...  

It wasn’t long after that that Thor brought his ailing mortal--Jane Foster--back to Asgard. She was possessed of the Aether, and targeted by the Dark Elves--long thought to be extinct by Asgard. They attacked the palace, led by Malekith, and in the battle, Odin was slain. 

Thor and Loki forged a tentative alliance to save Jane and rid the universe of the Dark Elf threat. 

Finally, after a risky battle, the brothers triumphed, saving Jane, defeating Malekith, and containing the Aether. 

In their efforts together, Loki and Thor came to understand each other much better than before. And this was how Thor revealed to Loki that he truly wanted to stay on Midgard. 

And Loki, gladly, accepted the throne of Asgard.

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona paced about in her chambers, awaiting a reply from the queen. She had sent her a small missive this morn, asking after her wellbeing. It was really an opening for more interaction that she had sought, but the queen hadn’t bitten.

After the Allfather had fallen during the first Dark Elf attack, the Allmother had been grief stricken and near inconsolable. Hence, she had secluded herself in mourning after King Odin's funeral, refusing to see anyone but her eldest handmaid or her sons.

Now, the kingdom was in a flux. Against all expectations, Thor had abdicated. And that left only one person to ascend to the throne of Asgard-- Loki .

Never in her life had Iona expected this to happen. Yes, Loki had been king regent for a short few days, but no one had expected it to last. It didn't last.

Now, he was king by succession, pardoned by Thor before he had renounced the throne. It all reeked of a deep conspiracy, but how could Iona blame Thor in all of this? He was supposed to be noble hearted, he wouldn't put someone ruthless and unkind on the throne, would he?

The answer was uncertain, and hence, Iona was plagued by anxiety. More so for herself than for all of Asgard... for Loki was sure to make her a target of his ire.

She had certainly spent the last one year pulling the tail of a caged tiger, assuming that she was at a safe distance. Now, that tiger was free, prowling all over the throne of Asgard and possibly looking for his vengeance against her. 

For a bit, she entertained the thoughts of going back home to her family estate. But there, she was sure to be pressured into marrying some craggy old man of riches. Her mother would not let her live it down that she couldn't secure the hand of prince Thor.  It'd be an embarrassment. 

No, she couldn't go back home. Not right now. Her only hope was that she'd be able to convince the queen to relieve her from her duties. That would allow her to leave Asgard altogether, and put some distance between her and Loki.

She needed that to happen soon... for she knew that whenever Loki saw her next, he was going to torment her somehow…

Her restless thoughts were interrupted by a respectful knock on the door of her chambers.

“Lady Iona?” a small, rather mousy female voice asked from behind the closed threshold. “His majesty, King Loki, has requested your presence in the throne room. I’ve been sent to escort you.”

Iona stiffened, almost wanting to run to the bifrost instead of heading to the throne room.

The wretch didn't even give her the grace and courtesy to come on her own. No, he had to send someone to make sure that she immediately heeded his command.

Clenching her fists, she opened the door and nodded to the servant.

"I'm ready."

She was most certainly not ready.

Finally, when they reached the entrance to the throne room, the servant took her leave and left her alone. Alone to face Loki… 

With her heart in her mouth, Iona stepped inside the throne room, trying her best to keep up her facade of noble sangfroid. 


Loki leaned back on the throne.

HIS throne. He leaned back on HIS throne.

He held HIS Gungnir, in HIS throne room. In HIS palace.

And he watched Iona like a predator as she walked through the massive doors into the enormous empty hall, her footsteps echoing throughout the chamber. He didn’t speak until she was at the foot of the golden dais, bowing to him in deference.

“My dear Iona. Please, stand.” His voice dripped with sadistic delight.


The familiarity with which he spoke her name made her shiver with dread. She didn't like the tone of his voice either--so conceited .

He was most definitely mocking her, sarcasm flowing like a brook from his notorious silvertongue.

She rose and stared up at him, clutching her hands together, trying to appear unperturbed. Her heart, however, fluttered against her chest like a hummingbird.

"Your majesty, I was told that you wished to see me. I'm curious as to what purpose I can serve for you."

She tried her best to keep the sarcasm from dripping into her voice. That wouldn't do. She had to tread carefully, for Loki now literally had the power to make her life utterly miserable.


Loki huffed a chuckle and sat upright, leaning his weight on the arm of the throne as his fingers slowly twirled the golden staff in his hand.

“’ve always been a curious little thing, haven’t you? I do so love curiosity. It makes life that much more interesting, wouldn’t you agree?”


His words confused her, and hence, she stared at him blankly.

"I... well, yes. There would be no progress without curiosity, sire," she stated in agreement, a bit hesitant as she saw a wicked smirk forming on his lips.

Oh she hated it when he smirked like that . That expression was the harbinger of trouble.

She watched him apprehensively as he lifted the Gungnir slightly, pointing it in her direction. She knew that he could very well kill her in that moment, and it made her knees wobbly with fear. 

However, he didn’t use the power of the magical staff against her. He simply placed it right next to the throne. It stood upright on its own, glinting in the bright firelight of the room, looking like a silent observer of their tense interaction as Loki opened his mouth to speak again.


“And would you also agree,” he said as he stood and began walking down the stairs toward her, gaze locked onto hers. “that, given this curious turn of events, you might find yourself in a position to be especially accommodating to the newly crowned Allfather of the Nine Realms? Perhaps a touch remorseful for past slights?” 

He stood in front of her, still several steps up, which gave him a significant height advantage. The horns and full formal royal garb added a great deal of gravitas and -- he knew -- intimidation to his stance.


"What?" she squeaked, embarrassingly high pitched and nearly shrill. 

In all honesty, his words terrified her. What sort of accommodation did he want from her? For a moment, her thoughts were filled with the possibilities of turning a noble into a thrall. It wasn’t impossible for the king of the Nine Realms to do so, no matter how shocking or unheard of...

Forcing her composure back somehow, she cleared her throat and tried to speak again.

"I do not understand, your majesty. If it is my apology that you seek, then I will give it to you with the utmost respect and depth of sentiment. I deeply regret causing you any distress with my conduct in the past."

She even clutched her heart in a show of humility and remorse, dearly hoping that he’d buy it.


“Mhm...” he hummed as he closed the distance between them in a few long steps.  He reached down and gently lifted her chin with his knuckle, staring down into her amber eyes. “I forgive you, dear Iona. For all the spite you showed me while I was imprisoned. For every unkind word you spoke behind my back. For all the gossip you started and propagated at my expense. I forgive you for all of it.” 

He bent down and gently kissed her forehead, holding her chin up firmly with his hand. When he pulled back, his eyes danced with mischief.

“And now that we’ve moved on from that dreadful part of our history, I have a proposition for you. One I’m fairly certain you’ll be unwilling to refuse...”


Iona desperately wanted to take several steps back to escape him. But it would be an insult to the throne and the Allfather, and she couldn't afford to make that kind of a social gaffe. Already, she was in so much trouble...

His lips on her skin... Norns, she did not like how they made her nearly jump out of her skin. 

"Sire, I'm in no position to take up another job while I'm serving the queen," she explained hurriedly, hoping that the mention of the queen would stop him in his tracks. "I'm bound by my duties."


Loki just laughed darkly and shook his head. “My dear, I’ve already spoken with the queen. She is delighted to release you from her service for this… unique opportunity. And your parents are positively thrilled...”

With one final grin that made it seem like his dark mirth might bubble over into a genuine evil laugh...he bent down on one knee.

“Iona...” he said, his voice gravel and silk all at once. “Beautiful, faithful, loyal Iona...”

When he looked back up at her, it was decidedly NOT a look of love or affection. His face was lit with nothing more than mischievous glee and long-awaited vengeance.

“Be my wife… my queen .”


Iona stumbled back, eyes wide and disbelieving. Loki despised her. His spite for her was so clear in his eyes right now. What was he trying to achieve by proposing marriage to her?

"Wha-" she croaked, unable to even form a full word in her shock. 

This was a nightmare. It couldn't be anything else. Why else would Loki be doing this?

What trick of his was this?

For a moment, she felt light-headed, and she feared that she'd faint. She had to take a few deep breaths to remain stable on her feet. Fainting in front of the cruel king would only add to her woes.

"Is this some kind of..." She broke off mid-sentence, taking another deep, fortifying breath. Her heart was thudding against her chest. "Are you making a jest ?"

That last question came out, despite her best efforts, as a shriek.


In mock offense, Loki brought an open hand to his heart in a gesture of wounding.

“Iona! Surely you don’t believe that I, the Allfather , would jest about something as important as selection the next Queen of the Nine Realms? I’ve always admired you - I said as much when you so graciously visited me in secret while I was in the dungeons. And I would love nothing more than to have you by my side. The time I spent locked up gave me such an appreciation for your beauty, your grace, your talents… and your discretion.” 

He smirked again as he stood, and took her hands in his. Everything in his body language was genuine. Everything in his expression was malignant.

“And now can be together… forever.”


Iona stared at his hands gripping hers, certain that they'd soon turn into coiling snakes. They certainly felt like manacles. His grip was a vice, strong and unrelenting, and she couldn't pull out of his hands at all.

"Sire," she gasped, shaking her head. "I..."

Swallowing thickly, she tried to gather her thoughts. They had all been scattered all over the Yggdrasil, it seemed. 

And the absolutely menacing look in his eyes wasn't doing anything for her poor, overworked heart. This was most definitely a trick, but she didn't know what exactly he was planning to do here. 

She couldn't reject his proposition either; no one rejected a proposition from the king . Not without a great and potent reason. She had no pretext for a refusal.

"I... I need time to think about it, sire," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with the effort.


Loki looked at her with a closed-lip smile, like an adult watching a child about to throw a tantrum. That was to say, smugly and degradingly.

“There’s nothing to think about, Iona. Your parents have already approved. In fact, they’ll be here tomorrow evening for our betrothal ceremony.”

Loki revelled in the thrill bursting in his chest. Even though he was planning to make her life less than savoury, she was the perfect solution for some of his problems--none of the other kingdoms would try to foist their eligible daughters at him in hopes of garnering some political alliance; no need to go through the tedious social gatherings that preluded royal courtships. 

Iona was of… acceptable noble heritage. And the story he had told her parents about how he had fallen in love with her during his imprisonment, with a twinkling tear tracking down his face at the sheer emotion he felt for her… ah, it was a delight to watch them take the bait, leaving her to him with hardly a question. After all, they had always aligned with the royal family in the past, in the hopes of getting close to them. Now was their golden chance...

Loki reached up and ever so gently stroked her cheek, practically daring her to move away from it.

“You will make a most beautiful bride, my dear.”


She closed her eyes as he stroked her cheek, her mind nearly swimming in different, scattered directions in order to escape reality.

"Why?" she whispered, feeling so helpless. "Why are you doing this?"


He waited until she opened her eyes, then brushed away the tears that began to fall down her cheeks. “Because I love you, Iona. Why else would I be doing this?”

With that, he bent down and planted the most gentle kiss on her lips, lifting her face with his hand to meet his.


A shiver ran down her spine as he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle, sensual even, but she knew that the intent behind it wasn't. Still, his lips were surprisingly soft, and her body reacted to them before she could tell it not to.

Her hand came up to rest against his chest, his armour cold against her skin. Weakly, she clawed against that armour in whatever defiance she could muster. It was all that she could do to protest…

Oh, how easily he could lie. She wondered if he had lied to the queen too--his own mother . Was there any line that he was not willing to cross to get his revenge?

Slowly, she tried to pull away from him, to break the kiss.


He didn’t let her.

Loki deepened their kiss, even moaning in pleasure as he slid his tongue between her lips and began to partake in the sweetness of her mouth. This wasn’t the eagerness of a passionate lover here--it was dominating, controlling, overpowering… and it obviously wasn’t going to stop at mere kissing.

He practically lifted her off the ground as he pulled her close, taking her mouth with all the skill of a great warrior and the ferocity of a predatory animal.


Iona was well and truly afraid now... of what he was doing, or what more he might be planning on doing. 

She now had both of her hands against his chest, pushing against it with great effort. Loki, however, was not budging even a bit. His tongue stroked hers repeatedly, making her gasp and squirm at the sensation. It was all very feral and dark, and she wasn't prepared for it at all.

When he lifted her off the floor, she began to panic. 

Turning her face away from him, she pried her mouth from his, at last, taking a deep breath to fill her lungs.

"Let me go," she mumbled weakly, her voice unsteady. "What are you doing?"


Loki stopped, but did not let her go. He kept her close to him, feeling her supple little body trembling against his chest. The feel of it was maddening… how long had it been since he had enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh? He allowed himself a moment to indulge in it, taking a long, deep, shuddering breath. 

By the time he looked back into her eyes, he was fully in control.

“Iona. I’m giving you everything you’ve ever wanted. A life of royalty. Status. A crown. THE crown, my dear--Queen of Asgard, Allmother of the Nine Realms. You will never be called a mere lady again; you will never lift a finger in service to another… except me , of course.” He grinned at her, feeling her breath on his face. It was intoxicating, this rush of power and triumph. His hands began sliding around her waist then, tickling her skin through the soft fabric of her dress. “And I ask for so little in return...”


"You've never been so benevolent to me," she said in a small voice, wiggling against him as he slid his hands around her waist. 

Despite her misgivings, his words were beginning to affect her. All of what he had just mentioned, she had wanted. She had been groomed to want it. 

How could she resist such a great temptation?

Norns, because he was most certainly going to do something unsavoury to her…

Yes, she had wanted the crown, the luxuries...all of it, but she hadn't imagined it all with Loki as her king and lord husband.

"I've never been kind to you. You want s-someone who loves you back, don't you?" she asked, looking at him with wide, silently pleading eyes.


With a simpering grin, he put his forehead against hers.

“But my dear… you already do.”

He slowly lowered her to her feet, then took her hand and began leading her up the stairs of the golden dais… towards the throne.

“All that past unkindness was simply your way of trying to process your feelings for me. I understand now, darling. At first, I was greatly insulted--and perhaps I did not react in the most becoming manner. But I see now what your actions truly meant, and with that knowledge I find my own feelings for you are too strong to ignore.”

The words came so easily, like pouring water from a carafe.

They reached the top of the dais, and he pulled her to the throne, seating her on the wide armrest. “Now that we have both realized how much we care for each other, all that is left for us is to marry and lead the Nine Realms. As spouses. As lovers . As everything we need to be… for the people .” He smirked again, his emerald eyes burrowing into her soul, watching her as she struggled to resist his inveigling.

“I love you, Iona. And all you must do is love me in return.” 

That was the facade of their bargain. And he knew that she was hungry enough for the title of the Allmother to accept it.


Iona felt so utterly vulnerable, with nothing protecting her from Loki’s clutches now. Her parents had consented, the queen had consented... no doubt moved by his smooth lies.

He was so good with the lies that she herself was getting pulled into his charm, little by little. It was akin to slipping into quicksand.

Oh, but the thought of being with him constantly... of being in his bed as his dutiful wife… was a daunting, intimidating thing. She didn't know if she'd be able to handle him. 

But... did she even have a choice? 

All she was expected to do was to accept this ‘great honour’ graciously. Not one person had thought to ask her first--or even tell her, for that matter. Her fate had been sealed without her consent or knowledge.

What else could she do but accept it with grace?

It wasn’t even that bad, was it? She’d be the queen of Asgard, after all. The Allmother . She’d get to have her own powers...

Swallowing thickly, she looked up into his brilliant green eyes and nodded slightly, silently begging the Norns to show her some mercy. 

"I'll... I'll try my best, sire."


With a victorious grin, he took her in his arms and moved her onto the seat of the throne, insinuating himself between her suddenly spread her legs. He was absolutely sure that she could feel his raging hard manhood pressing against her most intimate parts, their clothes the only barrier between them.

“There’s my good girl...” he purred as he reached down, gathering the fabric of her dress and pulling it upward toward her waist. “ me how grateful you are.”




Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV


“There’s my good girl...” he purred as he reached down, gathering the fabric of her dress and pulling it upward toward her waist. “ me how  grateful  you are.”


"Loki, what--" She pressed herself back against the throne, trying to put some distance between them. He, however, leaned further onto her, leaving her no space to retreat.

"This is the throne room! This is no place for sating your... " She nearly swallowed her tongue as she forced the words out. "For your lust!"

Her hands grabbed his forearm, trying to stop him from exposing her to his increasingly hungry looking eyes. "We're not married yet, sire, this is improper behaviour!"


“Shhhhhhh,” he whispered, still pulling the folds of her skirt upwards. He began to kiss the soft skin of her neck, reveling in the goosebumps that blossomed from his touch.

“You forget yourself, sweet Iona. There is NOTHING I cannot do now. I’m the Allfather. The most powerful person in the Nine Realms. Do you honestly think something as flimsy as accusations of ‘improper behavior’ are going to stop me from sating anything ?”

With that, his hand dipped inside her undergarments,  and his thumb began to circle her clitoris slowly, pushing aside the tight curls to find her nub.


She squeaked as she felt his touch on her most sensitive, most intimate place. There was no stopping him, that she knew by now. Her grip on his forearm did nothing to dissuade him, it was useless, and so she let go and grasped the throne instead.

"Loki! S-Sire!" She wanted to say more, but nothing else came out of her mouth as he began to stroke her. Slowly, her lust rose from its slumber, responding to his invading fingers.

Those fingers knew what they were doing, much better than even her own. It was shocking how well he knew how to touch her.

She breathed heavily, her resistance slowly faltering in the wake of his relentless and aggressive seduction. He was ruining her, in a way, and some part of her was beginning to enjoy it.

Norns help her, she didn't know what to do...


“Mmmmmm...say my name again...” he commanded, growling as he felt her body begin to slicken with need. He pushed two fingers inside her, stretching the fabric of her panties to accommodate his hand, and began to tease her with a come-hither motion, stroking that smooth and sensitive internal spot with deft and practiced technique.

“Say my name like it will be the last one to escape your lips in passion. Like there is no one in the universe for you but me. Say it, Iona...”


She gazed back at him with lost, unfocused eyes as her pleasure rose. She was past resisting now, her hands simply gripping the arms of the throne as he ravished her with his fingers.

When he commanded her, she felt compelled to follow through. Her rebellious side had all but vanished… 

"Loki!" she cried out, eyes shutting close as she chased that peak of pleasure that his touch was promising. 

As she screamed his name, repeatedly , it echoed off the high walls of the throne room and amplified. She could hear the lust in her own voice; it sounded so strange.


It was music. A cathedral of his name, and he swam in it with rapture. With a deft gesture and a bit of seidr, her underwear disappeared, dissolving from her body. He pulled himself from his breeches, took his hand from her center, and aligned his girth with her opening, watching her face with feral delight.

“You’re mine now, Iona.”

He began to push himself inside, glacially slow, drinking in the expression on her face.

“No more games. No more fights. You will be my sweet, obedient little queen. And if you do well...”

He continued to fill her slowly, taking as much time as he could, feeling her walls desperately clenching around him and her hands holding with a death grip to his forearms. Her entire body shook as he took her, and he hated to admit how difficult it was to maintain his restraint - were he a more impulsive man, he would be rutting her like a stallion in heat.

But that would come. In time. And it would be all the better if he had patience and control now.

“ will be so very happy.”


Iona was still catching her breath when he began to breach her, catching her completely off-guard. 

A frown came over her face, reeling from confusion and near delirium as she slowly got impaled on his manhood right on the throne of Asgard. 

Her lips parted in a deep moan while she felt twinges of both pain and pleasure. 

"Loki," she sobbed, hands gripping him tighter, thighs aching as her body was sandwiched between the hard throne and his virile body.  "I... please!"


Loki growled salaciously at her begging, and he began to pump slowly inside her. She was tight... and though she wasn’t virginal (that would have to be a conversation for another day), he could tell by her reactions that she was quite inexperienced.

All the better, he mused, reveling in the little shocked and submissive expressions that played across her face like a tapestry of emotions she desperately tried to keep hidden.


She looked up at him in shock and wonder. It felt like she was being breached for the first time, even though it wasn’t her first time. No… that had been centuries ago, with a fumbling young noble.

The Alfan lord had shown her his interest during a trip to Alfheim. They had shared a few secret missives of newfound affection, and he had treated her like a treasure for that short while. He had taken her under a starry night sky, on a plush bed of Alfan grass and wildflowers.

It had been the most romantic night of her life… even though the love-making was over far too soon. Iona had been left with a sense of dissatisfaction, but she hadn’t blamed the young lord.

At least, not until the next day, when he had acted as though they were strangers, and he had gone chasing after the skirts of another maiden…

That had left a deep mark on Iona’s psyche, so much that she’d never attempted to return the attentions of any noble at the Asgardian court.

She hadn’t thought that her second time would be like this… that she’d be with Loki like this!

What was she even thinking? How did she end up like this?

“S-Sire… please ,” she cried again, desperate as he kept taking her in drawn-out, long strokes. Her gaze never left his, as if it were locked onto his verdant green eyes.

The moment was hypnotic and very unlike her first time…

She was nearly losing her mind here, for her body was inundated with pleasure, but her thoughts were far afield.


Loki felt her walls tightening and fluttering around him, his constant, insistent movement ratcheting up her pleasure with slow tempo. He loved how her breath hitched and her throat danced each time he plunged back into her hot center, already so much slicker than when he began. And when her pleading eyes refused to leave his, he knew she was almost there.

He expertly angled himself against her g-spot, changing his approach and his speed just enough to surprise her, then with a last forceful thrust, he held himself firm and unmoving within her while his fingers rubbed her clit with enthusiastic abandon.

“Come for me, Iona…” he growled, knowing she was already tipping over the edge, but wanting her to believe it was his command giving her that final push into ecstasy. He would imprint the idea that only his voice and his will would bring about her completion. 

If he trained her properly, the notion that she could orgasm of her own accord would soon be a lost fantasy.

And he so looked forward to training her properly.


His command, in that deep, mesmerizing voice… it quite literally compelled her to follow through. She felt the choice slipping away from her… she had no other option but to come.

And so she did, bending to his will like a reed in a gust of wind.

Her eyes fluttered, as did her whole body, and her lips begged again, not knowing what exactly they begged for--his mercy or his torment.

“Please… please, oh, Norns…please.” She almost added the word ‘ more’ to her desperate pleas, much to her shame, as she fell apart under him. 


“‘Please, please, please’...all this begging, Iona. It’s unbecoming of the Allmother. I’ve known you to be much more eloquent than this... Please what , darling? Tell your king what you want...”


At first, his voice sounded so distant, for she wasn’t really present in the moment. The pleasure was too much of a distraction to understand what he was saying...

However, as her mind cleared slowly, his words began to register, and a frown came upon her face again. She didn't know what to ask for, just that her body was still coiled like a spring. The tension and pressure he was exerting on her was unrelenting… almost painful.

He was resting so deep inside her--she didn’t know it was possible at all. The invasion had her reeling. He was so big, her body felt like it would snap under his lustful attentions. 

Whimpering, she spread her legs against his hips, moving in a clumsy, unthinking way as he rocked his hips against hers, increasing the pressure on her insides. 

“I… I don’t… don’t know.” She knew nothing… absolutely nothing about what he was doing to her, except that it felt like the most unbearable pleasure ever.


“Ohhh you poor thing...” he mocked. This was turning out to be more fun than he had expected. He put his hand behind her head, wrapping her hair around his fingers - it was gentle...for now.

“Let me help you, my little sweetling. Repeat after me.”

Tightening his grip on her hair slightly, just enough to keep her face directed straight ahead and completely at him, he smiled at her.

“King Loki, Allfather, my moon and stars...”


It was humiliating, what he was doing to her, but she found herself repeating his words nonetheless. What else could she do?

"K-King Loki.... Allfather." She shivered as he pulled back slightly and thrust deeply into her channel, pulling a moan from her. "My moon a-and stars...."


“Good girl...” he praised her as he slowed to a stop, completely filling her again and keeping her impaled on his cock.

“‘I beg of you, sire...fuck me again.’”


She struggled against him restlessly, feeling like she was going to burst.

He was so deep , and unmoving. It was too much for her channel, which was stretched to its very limits.

Another sob escaped her as she tried to repeat his prurient words.

"I beg of you! Sire, f-fuck me again!" She couldn't say the word “ fuck ” properly, trained as she was as a lady. It was a shock for her to even speak it.


A low, dark, satisfied chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he began pumping in and out of her. He moved slowly at first, but unstoppingly, consistently, firmly. He used his grip on her hair to keep her positioned where he wanted her, and allowed his forehead to fall to hers, staring deeply into her eyes.

“‘Fuck me like the ambitious, wanton whore that I am...’”


Iona jerked in his grip, her eyes widening.

"Wha-What?" She pressed her palms against his chest, wanting to push him off her.

Those words were most scandalous! She wouldn't… she couldn't….


"Say it…"

Loki picked up the pace. The reptilian side of his brain was taking over. No questions. No resistance. She had been so obedient until now, and she would do as he commanded. He thrust hard with each word.

“‘FUCK me,’”


“‘Like the AMBITIOUS,”






“That I AM!”

He moved his hand between her legs and pinched her clit between his fingers, rolling the pearl around and tugging her engorged nub with exactly the right amount of force.



Iona shrieked, arching against the seat of the throne, shaking her head wildly. She tried to fight him off, to slap his hand away from her sensitive flesh.

"I'm NOT!" Tears ran down her eyes as she struggled against him. "S-Stop it!"


He growled and pulled her head back, biting hard on her neck and fully pounding her, losing himself. This was his reward, his finish, his prize…

But she wasn’t obeying him anymore... no no....keep it together...

His hips seemed to move of their own accord, and her screaming only heightened the almost uncontrollable urge he felt to rend her in twain with his cock.

Slow down...don’t break…stay in control...

Swallowing hard, he made the monumental effort to stop himself from letting those urges take over. His thrusts became less maddened, he loosened his grip slightly, and he began to push down the manic rage that had almost... let her disobey him .

He exhaled heavily, and after a few quiet, unmoving moments, removed himself from her.

“I suppose you’re right...” he said softly, sweat beading on his forehead under the golden helm, still struggling to catch his breath, but the threat in his tone remained. “Perhaps you aren’t as deserving of the position of Allmother as I had thought...”


She gasped in horror, her hands scrambling for purchase on the throne.

Anger and fear both rose sharply in her heart as she considered the consequences of what her life would be like if he were to deny her the queenship after putting her through this. Not only would she face the ridicule of the court, she’d also face the disapproval of her exacting parents.

"You c-can't withdraw now!" She stared at him with wide, wet eyes. "Not after claiming me like this! I… I'll be ruined!"

Norns! She wanted to claw Loki's pretty, cruel face.


He was immediately nose-to-nose with her, fury flaring in his eyes. As if she were the only one left unsatisfied here…

“So. Then. Say. It.”


Fresh tears flowed down her eyes as she realized that he had all the power in this situation.

She was going to be ruined if she didn't say what he wanted. And he'd like nothing more than that.

Slowly, her trembling lips opened. 

"I'm an ambitious, w-wanton..." She looked away from him. "W-Whore..."


He turned her face back towards his, practically vibrating with lust and rage and the need to control her. 

“That’s not right. Say it right. Now.”

She had to follow his command exactly . This was her lesson today, the first of the many trainings he had in mind for her to change her from the sarcastic, rude, impudent lady-in-waiting she had been… into his perfect, quiet, obedient wife and queen.


" Fuck me," she mumbled, gazing into his cruel eyes while her breath stuttered. "Like the a-ambitious, wanton wh-whore that I am."

She closed her eyes as she completed that awful sentence, feeling so much hatred for him… and herself .



His chest swelled and he leaned forward, kissing her with all the hate, fury and desire he possessed. The lust-laden madness overtook him once more, and he took her almost violently, thrusting like he’d die if he didn’t find sweet relief in her hot pussy RIGHT THIS FUCKING SECOND.

He growled and moaned and grunted, losing himself in the overwhelming feeling of everything coming to a head - pumping, groaning, swearing to the Uphiminn as his climax rapidly approached.


She sobbed again as he renewed the lustful onslaught on her. Even through her hate for him, her body was finding pleasure in his ruthless actions.

Once again, her hands gripped his arms just as he surged inside her and throbbed, his deep growls reverberating in her heart. Norns, she feared he was going to break her with his punishing thrusts.

"Loki, p-please ," she could barely blurt out, feeling his teeth digging into her neck as he chased his release. 

Her whimpers and sobs melded into moans of pleasure, just as her body completely gave in and surrendered the fight. His dominating presence, his harsh demands, and his complete sexual possession of her left very little space for her to hide.

Helpless against all the sensations, weighed down by his strength and virility, she clenched around him repeatedly, reaching an intense completion.

Her nails dug ineffectively into his armour, her naked thighs trembled against his leather clad ones while he kept grinding into her, prolonging her peak of pleasure till she nearly lost her grip on consciousness.


Feeling her walls flutter with orgasm, he let go of that control he’d held so desperately and allowed himself to come; with a final breathy grunt he exploded, filling her with his seed, panting and sweating, his cock twitching as his balls contracted and shot burst after burst of cum into her sensitive tissues.

Shuddering as the orgasm tapered into exhausted satisfaction, he let their bodies stay entwined together while he returned to his senses, head swimming with lusty afterglow.


Iona tried to catch her breath as Loki remained lodged inside her.

Her whole body ached, sure to be marked with bruises from the throne, and from Loki himself. More than that, her psyche felt bruised.

She so badly wished for a soft bed and some healing potions. Perhaps even a memory erasing potion, if that existed...


After several long minutes, he finally felt the need to move. Straining his tired body, he lifted himself off of her, removing his now-soft cock and pushing it unceremoniously back into his pants. He adjusted his outfit - even corrected his helm, which he noticed was listing ungracefully off to the side - then looked at her again.

The feeling he got when he saw her - tear-stained, humiliated, and disheveled - was quite UNLIKE what he’d expected. He didn’t feel powerful, or strong, or manly. He felt....sorry? He blinked, taking her in, and for a brief and unusual moment, he found himself at a loss for words.


Iona moved the skirts of her dress down her waist, attempting to restore at least some of her modesty.

She didn't look up to meet Loki's gaze, feeling the deep burn of humiliation at what he had made her do.

She tried to get up from the throne, but her legs refused to obey her. A quiet whimper escaped her as her muscles complained. Her aches only multiplied when she tried again.

Norns, this was an insult to injury...


He bent down to help her stand, recognizing her refusal to look at him.

What in the Nine Realms had he just done?

Iona had been sarcastic, and rude, and judgmental. She had mocked him - OPENLY - while he was in the dungeons. Obviously hated him. And he hated her in return. He had been planning this revenge since he first realized he wouldn’t be going back to that golden prison...the training, the torment, psychologically shaping her until she was as tame as a show horse. His perfect wife.

But now...she was just sad, and broken. Her fire was gone. He suddenly realized that her fire and fight was what he enjoyed so much about her. That he had wanted her to be snarky and snide, to use that razor wit against him, to challenge him...

Loki felt a pain in his chest. What was meant to be a bit of fun on his part had turned out much differently than he had anticipated...


Iona silently accepted his help, knowing that she couldn't get up without it.

"Am I allowed to leave now?" she asked in an unsteady, small voice. Her eyes remained downcast. She tried to let go of him and stand on her own, but he wouldn't release her.

For a brief moment, she grew terrified that he wanted more from her.


He held her, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t know what to do. He had no plans for this, no ideas of how to deal with her when she wasn’t pushing back...and yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, he also knew he had to maintain his authority.

He cleared his throat.

“Yes, my dear. You may go. Do you need assistance descending the stairs?” The overly formal sentence tasted like bile in his mouth. What could he do now?


She frowned at his courtly manner of speaking. Perhaps he was trying to tell her something through it. But she was too worn out to decipher it.

"Yes," she replied, blushing deeply in consternation. 

Taking help from her tormentor was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn't trust her wobbly legs.


He led her down the steps slowly, ensuring she had her footing each time before moving forward. He took extreme care with her, treating her like the delicate thing he now saw. 

Without a word, they reached the bottom of the dais, and after seeing that she could stand on the flat ground, he let her go.

“Well then. I will see you at the engagement party tomorrow,” he said. The words were dry as sawdust.


She nodded and then dipped her head in a customary bow.

Turning around quickly, she left the throne room to go back to her chambers.

Once inside, she locked the doors and wrapped her arms around herself, hot tears brimming in her eyes once again.

She was so furious. SO FURIOUS!

Loki had sealed her fate and there was nothing she could do about it. She'd be married to him soon enough, and then what? What else was he going to do her?

Was he simply going to torment her for millennia? No… she couldn't possibly take it. Moreso, she hated how he had made her enjoy the carnal activities he had foisted on her. For the first time in her life, she had lost her senses to sexual pleasure. It was a disgrace!

Her body was still trembling in the aftermath... 

Slowly, as her thoughts became a bit clearer, she started thinking more shrewdly.

Yes, Loki was going to make her marry him. But then, what else could he do? Once married, getting rid of her would be nigh impossible. 

She'd be queen, and she'd have her privileges. Even if she couldn't challenge him directly, she'd have subtle ways to get back at him.

For now, she would remain docile and cowed, to show him that she had surrendered…

After the wedding, however, she'd surely make his life an image of Helheim.

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV


(The Next Day)


Loki’s attendants scurried around him, adjusting his garments, attaching armor, and preparing him for his betrothal ceremony. He hadn’t seen Iona since yesterday, and he would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't just the smallest bit nervous.

He’d had a lot of time to think about what had happened the day before and how he felt about it. Now that he wasn’t staring into her tear-stained, terribly sad face, he no longer felt as unsure as he’d been following their tryst in the throne room.

Had he pushed her too far in demanding her obedience? Her strict obedience, down to the word?

Perhaps… but she needed to understand her place, and the role she was meant to play. And he would enjoy training her… but certainly with more tact in the future.

He fidgeted slightly as the layers of garments were applied, until he could delay no longer. Grabbing the Gungnir, he headed from his quarters towards the throne room, where the engagement celebrations were already beginning, ready to show Iona - and everyone - what it meant for the Allfather to choose his Queen.


Iona had been up since early morning, knowing that attendants would be sent to prepare her for the betrothal ceremony.

She had tried to hide all the marks Loki had left on her body, especially her neck, lest the attendants saw them and began gossiping.

It had been an arduous task, but she was able to cover up most of them. Make-up equipment from at least five realms was utilised.

Her nerves wouldn't let her sit still, though. Thoughts about Loki and his wily ways were troubling her. Not to mention, his sheer animalistic carnality scared her.

So when the attendants arrived to prepare her, she was glad for the distraction.

Soon, she had been dressed in the finery of a princess, her hair done in intricate braids that fell past her waist. A jewel-encrusted tiara was set on her head, completing the look.

When it was announced that the king was ready at the entrance to the throne room, she was escorted there without delay.

A sense of deja vu overtook her as she reached the gigantic doors. Loki stood there, looking majestic and intimidating in his ceremonial armour, his helm glinting in the firelight.

That was going to be her husband in a few short months...  Norns help her.

Iona walked up to him in measured steps, doing what was expected of her despite her nerves. 


When he laid eyes on her, unexpectedly, he lost his breath for a moment. For as long as he had known her, she had worn the simple, elegant garb of the Queen’s ladies, but today - today she was royalty. Bedecked in his colors of gold and green, she seemed to float across the floor in the ornate gown; poised, sophisticated, proper . Exactly as she had been raised to be; exactly as expected.

She was perfect.

But he only allowed himself to indulge in her for a moment, then he closed his eyes, took a breath, and became the Allfather.

He stepped into view of the party guests, and a fanfare of horns erupted. Regally, he walked forward, a confident, royal smile spread across the gorgeous young king’s face, and as he reached the center of the landing, he looked to her and extended his hand.

His expression radiated love so genuine, even his mother would have been fooled.


As she walked towards Loki, Iona was overwhelmed by the crowd that had gathered in the throne room for the ceremony. She wondered what might be the scene of the wedding, if the betrothal was being treated with so much pomp and pageantry.

Personally, she didn't like crowds. Even more so when the crowd's focus was on her. She felt more self-conscious than ever.

When Loki presented his hand to her, she took it graciously, as was expected from her. His touch made her shiver, her body remembering how he had held her yesterday. 

How he had tried to destroy her dignity… and how she had surrendered to him.

Still, she tamped down her ire and fear, and acted like a nervous, blushing bride-to-be. She had a role to play in front of all these people, after all.

Together, they both walked down the aisle and towards the throne... the same throne where he had ravished her.

Her blush deepened as she looked at it, the memories assaulting her immediately.


Loki leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Don’t worry, sweetling. The ceremony will be over quickly. I can’t stand these dreary affairs...”

And just like that, it indeed was. Loki thanked the officiant, the families, the queen mother, and everyone in attendance.

“Now please, enjoy our hospitality! Eat, drink, and help us celebrate the beginning of our lives...together.” He turned to her, staring affectionately into her eyes, breaking into a beautiful smile that could have actually been authentic.

Then, he led Iona to the huge main table at the bottom of the dais, and the feast began.


She put a fixed smile on her face as he led her down the dais the same way he had done yesterday. From here, she could see the familiar faces of her parents, the queen mother, and her other ladies-in-waiting.

Most of those ladies had known about the shared disdain that Loki and Iona held for each other. Hence, a few of them were looking at the couple with doubt and confusion. Iona tried her best to evade their questioning gaze. 

The engagement and all the arrangements around it had been handled by Loki, and no doubt, it was all done in haste. Or mayhap Iona was the last to know of it?

The thought disturbed her…

Reaching the high table, she let him pull her chair out for her as he pretended to be a gentleman for the benefit of the onlookers. She thanked him and smiled wider, grasping his forearm as he settled into his own chair.


He merely blinked at her in response, hiding his surprise well. Then, he pulled her hand from his vambrace and brought it to his lips. The kiss was lingering and sensual, and all the while Loki maintained eye contact with her. 


His lips were soft and gentle against her knuckles, almost wickedly inviting. As their eyes met, she could detect a latent hunger in his gaze, and it made her blush furiously. 

Norns, he was evil...

To distract herself from his hungry gaze, she started engaging other people at the table in inane conversations. She wasn’t fond of the small-talk, but she was an expert at it.

Gently, she pulled her hand away from his grip and instead thought to offer him some of the delicacies that were being served. She took one of the bite-sized pieces of honey bread and brought it to his lips, trying her best to return his well-honed loving gaze.


She was performing beautifully.

Even he had to admit he was impressed by her ability to ‘fake it’ in social settings. She made all the right moves, knew all the etiquette, spoke demurely and thanked the guests graciously for their well-wishes. No sulking or crying or making scene based on their past interaction.

He knew she was a good selection. 

But when she brought that piece of honey bread to his lips... Norns .

His cock sprang to attention faster than a territorial bilgesnipe detecting a trespasser. He thanked whatever cosmic powers were still on his side that he was sitting, able to hide what that simple gesture did to him.

And the look she gave him - charming, loving, endearing. With just the most subtle sheen of absolute hate and desire for vengeance. No one else could have seen it but him.

His cock twitched again. That look was going to be the end of him, giving him urges to make bad decisions in the future. He had to keep himself controlled.

Loki nipped her fingertips playfully as he took the bread, chuckling flirtatiously.


A small gasp escaped her as he nipped at her fingers, bringing a rush of heat to her face. Norns, why did that affect her so, bringing her baser urges to the fore?

Also, would she ever stop blushing in his presence? This was preposterous!

She pressed her thighs together to relieve some of her tension as she pulled her hand away from him.

Suddenly, she wasn't feeling all that brave.

She reached for a pastry next, wanting to eat something herself, for she had been starved since morning. He, however, blocked her way and nudged her hand away.

She gave him a covertly annoyed look, silently questioning him.


He locked his gaze on her, for the first time noticing how beautifully her amber eyes lit up in the firelight of the feast, practically swimming with honey-colored flecks of gold. His heart skipped a beat.

Stop it, he chastised himself, and he picked up the pastry she had been reaching for, gently raising it for her to bite.

And right when her mouth was open, eyes half-closed and ready to indulge in the delicate treat...

He pushed the pastry into her face, smearing it on her playfully. He and everyone who witnessed it laughed and cheered at the lovers’ prank. He took his napkin, smiling, and began to reach forward as if to clean her, but at the last second he turned his face and licked up the side of her cheek, taking a generous amount of the pastry with him.

Then, with a cheerfully malicious grin, he started to clean her off .


Iona tried her best to hide her consternation with a smile and a giggle.

Beneath the table, she grabbed his thigh and dug her nails into it.


Loki caught the yelp of surprise before it left his throat, but his widening eyes and look of amused fury… well, that he couldn’t cover up. He was finding this subversive play with her delightful . As best as he could, he eyed her salaciously and held her hand on his thigh… then began moving it upwards...


Iona tried to pull her hand back, utterly scandalized by his behaviour.

Someone on the left side of the table - a noblewoman from the valley district - tried to engage her in conversation, and she had to entertain her. All the while Loki pulled her hand towards his crotch.

Once it was on his manhood, she was surprised to discover that it was already hard and straining. She dug her nails into it as well, like a feral cat.

"Excuse me, I must visit the ladies' room to clean up," she said suddenly, just as he shifted in his seat and let go of her hand.

She got up and made for the ladies' room to hide for a while.


As she was walking away, Loki sent a small burst of seidr toward her - a gust of wind that just so happened to lift her skirts for a brief moment. He watched her, more entertained than he’d been in ages by her trying to maintain her composure and dignity against his mischief.

And she would lose. He was the God of it, after all.


Iona hid in the ladies' room and tried her best to clean the sticky pastry remnants from her face and chest.

Loki was such a cad! He couldn't leave her be even on this day.

She was honestly going kick him between his legs the next time he tried to be so smugly salacious.


Loki remained at the table for several more minutes, chatting with the men around him on the usual topics of fighting, carousing, women, and alcohol-fueled adventures. Fandral. in particular, was well into his fourth or fifth horn of mead, and while he regaled the others with some story of philandering and womanizing, Loki took his leave.

As he carefully made his way to the ladies’ room, his entire body began to shimmer in gold...his shape began to change - slightly shorter, much curvier, longer hair that turned blond as it grew, eyes shifting from green to brown. And finally, his royal clothing reduced to hardly more than an upscale servant’s garb.

Her transformation was complete by the time she reached the threshold and saw Iona cleaning the last of the pastry from her mahogany hair.

“A thousand pardons, your majesty - I mean, your ladyship...I you need any assistance?”

Her mousy voice quivered with nerves as she closed the door behind her.


Iona turned around to look at the servant girl, sighing in relief.

"Oh, thank you, I could certainly use some help." She gestured to her dress. "Can you please loosen the bodice of the dress? I need to clean the sticky mess from my bosom as well. The pastry crumbs fell through my neckline."

She gave the girl a sheepish smile as she approached her.


“Of course, my lady.”

Humbly, the servant girl approached and expertly began to untie the strings of Iona’s bodice, careful not to pinch her delicate skin in any of the grommets on her dress.

“My lady, if it’s not too forward of me… may I ask how this happened? I just came from the kitchens, and I heard there was a bit of a row, but...well, I’m not well liked by the other servants and no one will tell me...”


Iona immediately felt bad for the girl. She looked at her through the large mirror in the room. She was such an unassuming little thing. Why would anyone treat her badly?

"Well, it wasn't a row." Iona blushed - again - as she tried to explain the pastry mashing event. "The king, well, he's very playful and mischievous. He was feeding me a pastry, and it was very rich in cream... he thought it appropriate humour to feed me the whole of it in one go. And now you can see the result."

She didn't want to badmouth the king to his subjects, so she had slightly amended the story.

The girl nodded as she loosened her bodice. But she opened the strings all the way, making the dress nearly fall apart at her breasts. 

Iona clutched it to her chest and tried not to act too self-conscious as she began to rub a wet towel to her breasts.


Oh, my lady, please, allow me.”

She walked around to Iona’s front and carefully began to wipe the cream and pastry bits from her with the wet cloth, though she went rather more slowly than necessary. In fact, she seemed determined to do the most thorough job of cleaning the swells of Iona’s breasts and removing every trace of the sugary treat from her collarbones. She even went so far as to reach between Iona’s breasts to retrieve a piece that had fallen there.

She worked in silence, though occasionally those little brown eyes would flash up to look at Iona’s face, then quickly return to her work.

After a few minutes, it seemed the pastry bits were entirely gone, but the servant girl continued working, sliding the cloth almost dreamily across Iona’s skin.


"That's quite enough, dear," Iona said, her voice faltering as the girl now brushed the wet cloth against her nipples. "I think I'm clean enough."

She grasped her hand and pulled it out of her bodice.

"Will you please tighten the laces now?"


The shy girl swallowed hard.

“Um… well… you see, my lady… I… was rather hoping...”

A furious bright red blush crossed her cheeks. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I just… You’re so very lovely , and...”

With a quick, almost terrified glance up, she went onto her tiptoes and kissed Iona on the lips.


Iona jerked back against the mirror, staring at the girl in shock.

"You cannot do this!" she cried, clutching her dress to her bosom. "You know that I'm engaged to the king, and you'd be executed for daring to kiss me. Please tie my laces up and leave."

She was breathing heavily now, terrified, but also, very flattered that the girl thought her lovely. She could've very well smacked her upside the head, but violence against the servants wasn't in her habits.


“Oh please!” The girl was crying now. “It was the king , my lady! He told me to come in here and...and...and he said if I wasn’t able to seduce you, I would be sent to Jotunheim!”

Then, she back-pedaled. “But...I have always thought you were so beautiful, even as a lady-in-waiting. He...he said I must tell him what we did, and that I had his permission to do whatever you allowed! And if he wasn’t satisfied with my effort, I would be punished!”

She was very nearly cowed by humiliation now, but her bright little eyes were pleading. Pleading Iona to allow her to follow the King’s command...


Iona's eyes widened as she listened to the girl, growing concerned for and protective of her. 

She grasped her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. 

"Listen girl, nothing will happen to you. I promise. I will go and talk to the king myself. This is no way to treat a servant! You'll go back and do your work in the kitchens, and come meet me in the night. I'll add you to my retinue of personal staff." With that, she let go of her hand. "Now tie my laces up so that I can head out and confront the king about all of this."


She walked around behind Iona and began to lace up her dress again, fingers moving deftly.

“Thank you, my lady. Oh thank you! The king can be so, so horrible ! How can you stand it?”


Iona sighed heavily, wanting to share her burden with the girl but at the same time, knowing that it was improper to do so. She couldn't just criticize the king like that.

"He has a penchant for mischief, that's all. I'm sure he was just seeking a laugh out of this situation, and he wouldn’t have punished you."

At least, Iona was trying to tell herself that Loki wouldn't be so cruel to a poor servant girl. 

"He just has a strange sense of humour, and I suppose I've come to understand and embrace it," she explained, lying through her teeth.


Finishing her task, she helped Iona adjust the dress and her hair until it all looked perfect once again. But she lingered just a moment longer. A look of concern crossed her face.

“Are you certain, my lady, there is nothing you wish to say to unburden yourself? I just...I can see how it pains you, to keep this constant appearance of formality. I promise to tell no one - I keep to myself, and I have no friends to speak of. Please, if it will help ease your mind, I’m happy to listen to your troubles. It is the least I can do.”

With a sparkling, genuine look of care, she smiled sweetly. “To repay you for your kindness.”


Iona shook her head and cupped her cheek, smiling back at her. 

"You're a dear heart, but no. I'm not supposed to share things that are between me and my would-be husband. I do love him, that's why I'm marrying him. But your concern is very endearing. There's nothing to repay. I only acted in good faith." She patted her cheek and then pulled away. "My offer to you still stands. Join me as my personal servant, and I promise to you that nothing bad will befall you."

With that, she turned around and headed for the door.


“Well, well, well...I am impressed.”

That was DEFINITELY not the servant’s voice. But it was very, very familiar to Iona.

Loki stayed in the girl’s form, but her voice - and her demeanour - changed. A wily smirk crossed the formerly-humble-and-nervous face, looking dissonant against the soft features. She raised a haughty eyebrow, in the way only the King of Asgard could do.

“I knew you were the right choice...”

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV


Iona turned around and clutched her heart, which was thudding against her rib-cage as her adrenaline surged.

"Loki?!" She stared at the form of the servant girl in horror, understanding slowly washing over her. "Why?!"

She stumbled away and pressed her back against the door, eyeing her - HIM - with distrust.


She spread her arms and chuckled deeply, the unsettling noise resonating in a way that should have been impossible coming from that small frame. She began sauntering toward Iona, every mannerism obviously the king’s.

“Oh, so MANY reasons, dear one. First and foremost - for the sheer fun of it. Never underestimate my desire for pure, unbridled entertainment, Iona. I’m so easily bored… especially while I was locked away in the dungeons. Or, I should say, I was, until you and your acidic little comments piqued my interest. And now I’m making up for lost time, so to speak. So, that, certainly, was the primary motivation.”

She was right in front of her, shorter than her, but looking up with all the confidence of the God of Mischief.

“And second, to test you. To see if my mother’s faith in your discretion was well-placed. And I must say, bravo. You’re almost as good at maintaining your ruse as I am. Almost.”

Loki got up on her tiptoes to be eye-level with her, those brown eyes hooded lustfully.

“And see if you had any physical interest in the fairer sex. Which...” Her voice changed back to the servant's voice, mousy and quiet, and her eyes went wide and doe-like. “I believe, if I may say so, my lady, you very well may.”


Iona gazed at Loki with suspicion and uncertainty, feeling rather exposed in the wake of his claim. 

"I didn't kiss you, you kissed me," she muttered, her hand subconsciously clutching her breast. 

There was no way in Helheim that she was going to tell Loki about her interest in women. He would only ridicule her for it. In all honesty, she had indeed been drawn towards the servant girl's persona. Now, knowing that it was Loki made her all the more skittish.

"Are you quite done having your fun at my expense? I suggest that we both head back to the high table."


Loki simply grinned, her gaze flicking from Iona’s beautiful, confused, frightened eyes to her still-heaving bosom.

“There’s no rush, darling. If anything, I’m sure our guests will draw their own conclusions as to why both of us have been absent for such a long period of time. My reputation tends to precede me in these matters.”

She slid her hands over Iona’s hips and pressed her body to the soon-to-be queen’s. “And it wasn’t the kiss that gave you away, Iona. It was the way your breathing changed when I was… gently cleaning these beautiful breasts of yours.”


Iona held her breath as Loki's hands slowly slid up her body. The sensation was different, but the feeling the touch invoked was the same as when he had touched her in the throne room.

"Loki... what are you trying to do?" she murmured. She was breathing heavily now, and there was a tell-tale wetness between her legs.


Loki nuzzled Iona’s neck, taking in the lovely floral scent of her mahogany hair.

“I wanted to reward you. For being so loyal to me and not revealing my secrets when tempted.”

She licked Iona’s earlobe and smiled against her when the girl shivered at her touch. 

“You are just so responsive...and alluring, miss Iona...”

Loki intentionally kept her voice high and meek, almost a nervous whisper, playing the role of the innocent-but-curious servant girl to see if Iona would play along...or if she would stop her.


Iona gasped as Loki continued to toy with her, keeping his garb of the innocent servant girl. Her petite frame shouldn't have been able to, but still managed to press her against the smooth walls of the ladies' room.

"Stop this charade, sire," she stated in annoyance, even though her utterly confused body refused to fight back. "Do you ever tire of playing these evil games?"


Never ...” her voice went dark for a split second, and Loki reveled in the dissonance between what Iona said and how her body reacted.

“I find...I can’t seem to help myself around you, my lady...”

Her fingers squeezed and searched Iona’s body, surreptitiously undoing the threads of her dress with seidr as she went along, gently groping her somewhat resistant fiancé. Iona’s dress very gradually began to loosen, and Loki was careful to make it as imperceptible as possible.

“Far be it for me to hope one such as yourself might allow me to… show my appreciation for your good deeds...”


Without meaning to, Iona's hands came to rest on her shoulders as she touched her with intimate knowledge.

"At least take y-your true form," she griped, eyes widening as she suddenly felt her touch on her bare skin. "What are you doing?! I'll never be able to meet this girl's eyes!"


“How is that my problem?” Loki chuckled in a whisper, then she took a step back and turned her face upward, really rather enjoying being a bit shorter than Iona.

“My lady, have you never seen me as more than just a servant?” She brought her hands to her own breasts and grabbed them firmly, closing her eyes and exhaling with a shuddering breath. Loki was loving putting on a bit of a show for her. “I’ve thought of you in the privacy of my own soft and beautiful you are...what I could do to you if ever given the chance...”

Then, she slowly pulled the lacing from her own bodice and let her breasts fall out of the garment. She brought a single finger to the corner of her mouth, and in false surprise, giggle-whispered.


Circling another finger around one of her nipples, she watched Iona with hooded eyelids.

“If my secrets are safe with you...surely your secrets are safe with me as well...”


"For shame, Loki!" Iona trembled... with rage and arousal, both. Her eyes were glued to her breasts, but still, she thought it violative of the girl's privacy. This was all so very confusing! She felt like a guilty party here...

"This is too much! I... I'm not playing this filthy game!"

She turned around but stopped before stepping towards the door.

Looking back at Loki, she spoke in an accusative tone. "Why do you know her form so well? Have you bedded her? Played with her like you're playing with me now?"


The briefest flash of hurt tainted the girl’s expression for just a moment, but she quickly covered it with a snarking grin.

“Why Iona...are you jealous? Curious? Intrigued?” With each word, she stepped closer, until her hand came to rest on Iona’s hip once more. Loki let a few more of the threads loosen in Iona’s dress...if she moved even a bit now, the entire garment would fall apart at the seams...


"Do not pretend to know me!" she cried, offended and absolutely incensed by his remarks. “And change your form right this instant! This has gone too far.”

She wanted to slap that smugness off Loki's - borrowed - face.


Loki grinned and stepped away, jumping up and sitting on the counter near the sink. With one last wink, she shimmered gold, completely changing shape… back to Loki. King Loki. 

He lounged with his back against the mirror, one leg pulled up against his chest while the other dangled lazily off the edge of the counter. 

“There, is that better?”


Just as she moved to confront him, her whole dress fell off her shoulders in strips of fine cloth. Including her underclothes.

Shrieking in surprise, she instinctively tried to cover up her nakedness with her bare hands, keenly aware of Loki's eyes on her.

"Wha-! What did you do?!"


He laughed heartily, but he kept his distance, in part to take in the view of his handiwork, but also...being the servant girl had allowed him to be bolder, and he was more hesitant in his masculine body.

He still felt a pang of guilt for yesterday, when he had practically forced himself on her in the throne room. He figured she might panic if he got any closer in this form.


Iona managed as much of a glare at him as she could, given her circumstances. Quickly, she wrapped a strip of what was left of her dress around herself to cover the essential parts. It'd do for now.

"I'm not sure if it's better or worse, considering that you just destroyed my dress," she muttered, standing against the wall demurely. "I'd love to see you in the same situation. We'll see then how much it pleases you."

She then noticed something change in his demeanour... a subtle shift. He almost looked a bit uneasy, as if he wasn't comfortable being in his own form in front of her. Was that... guilt in his eyes?

That observation made her feel a bit braver. Hence, she stepped closer to him, regarding him with deliberately narrowing eyes. 

"Are you going to hang on the stone counter all day, sire? I must say, your servant girl persona was much more plucky," she said acerbically, resting her hip on the counter's edge as she watched him feign playfulness.


Loki smirked and narrowed his eyes in return, then changed again, putting just the servant girl’s face on his body.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” he challenged her, keeping a very Loki-like expression on the different face. After seeing her shocked and disgusted look, he laughed and changed back.

Norns, but she was a pain in the ass.

“Can you make up your mind, Iona? Just accept the fact that you enjoy this teasing and banter. I certainly do. And my goodness woman, if you want something from me… come and get it.”

He settled back on the counter further, daring her to approach him.

With a suggestive lift of his eyebrow, he added, “I promise it will be worth your while. But I’ve decided I don’t want to be as forward with you as I was yesterday. Take that however you like.”


"That's so easy for you to say now," she said, recalling how roughly he had treated her the day before. It sent a shiver down her spine, though, the man in front of her seemed somewhat different than the one who had taken her in the throne room. “It doesn't change what happened yesterday. And I'm not the fickle one here, sire. I'm merely trying to keep up with you. I don't know what you want from me, or what you wish to give me for my discretion. I wasn't expecting anything from it, that's just how I'm supposed to be... as your wife and queen."

What did he even want from her? He was just confusing her with his false joviality and his sudden deference to ethics.

She turned her head towards the door as she heard a few people pass it by, reminding her where they were. Sighing uncomfortably, she turned back to face him.

"My dress, I... I can't head back like this." Shivering, she felt his eyes going down her body again as she mentioned her lack of clothes. "If you're quite done with your little game, can you please restore it?"


He flinched slightly when she called him “sire.” Had they not been familiar enough for her to just call him “Loki”? She was going to be his wife, after all...

Maybe she needed some motivation… to scream it out...

No ... he stopped himself. Not again, not now. There would be plenty of time for that in the future.

He watched her for just a moment longer, wondering if she would change her mind, give in to her desires, and make a move while they were in this fun little situation… then sighed as she remained at a distance.

“Very well,” he said, and with a flick of his wrist, the strips of fabric wrapped themselves around her and took their form as her dress again. He smiled sadly at her look of relief, then almost as an afterthought, he materialized a golden bracelet on her wrist.

It was delicate and elegant, a snake eating its own tail, with emerald eyes shining in the flickering light of the torches.

“I suppose that will have to suffice for your reward. I had hoped to give you something much more memorable , but you don’t seem to be in the mood for such a thing. So go on. I’ll be out in a few moments - we wouldn’t want the rumor mill to churn quite so quickly now, would we?”


Iona admired the bracelet closely, turning it around on her wrist. It was a beautifully carved piece, and she did have a weakness for jewelry...

Damn him for enticing her like this.

"Thank you," she said slowly, a smile forming on her lips as she looked up at him. "It is very pretty. I do love snakes and the Ouroboros symbol."

Quickly, before she could think twice about it, she leaned over the counter and grabbed his hand, giving his knuckles a quick kiss. And then she dashed out of the ladies' room to head back to the feast.

At least, she assumed, that token of affection ought to be enough to keep him guessing about her thoughts towards him…


Loki waited long enough for her to reach the feast table once again. Then he stood, stretched (readjusting to his natural height - it did take a moment to re-orient after shape shifting), and began the incantation that would activate the magic in the bracelet.

“Oh, Iona,” he said to himself as the spell was completed. She should be feeling it any moment now. “To think, you still believe I’d let you off that easily...”

He checked himself in the mirror one more time - each hair in place, every piece of clothing perfect - before pulling his helm from thin air and placing it back on his head.

He left the ladies’ room once he was sure the coast was clear, then took a very leisurely pace back to the feast. He wanted that spell to be in full effect before he returned to Iona’s side...

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona was... not feeling normal.

Her head was swimming with prurient thoughts, and they weren’t stopping no matter how much she tried to quell them. Lust and arousal were at the fore of the sensations she was feeling. 

She had been perfectly fine only minutes ago. What was this nonsense?

Had someone put something in the food? That seemed nigh impossible, for everyone was partaking in the same fare as her. And no one seemed to be shaking with arousal.

Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly as she saw Loki walking back to the high table, back to his usual sauntering. 

A very strong wave of arousal hit her just as he took his seat beside her, smiling at everyone at the table and taking her hand in his. He glanced at her briefly, and she couldn't decipher anything in his eyes. They were closed off, guarded .

Here she was, gripping the seat of her chair with one hand and clutching his hand in a death-grip with the other, not to mention, biting her lip to maintain a calm demeanour... and her would-be husband was acting like nothing was wrong with her.

From her centuries worth of tolerating his tricks, she knew where this sudden bout of lust was coming from. That damned bracelet. 

Quickly, she pulled her hand from his and tried to take the offending piece of jewelry off. It didn't come off, as though it was adhered to her skin.

Anger mixed with lust now, creating a very volatile combination inside her head. 

Norns, she was going to kill him…

Her hand reached for his again, and this time she dug her nails into his palm like a vicious feline, wanting to draw blood.


It took all of Loki’s masterfully honed willpower - fine-tuned by centuries of experience - to keep from letting the wellspring of mischievous excitement at Iona’s flustered state show on his countenance.

He was controlled, calm, kingly. He paid her as much consideration as was appropriate. But in those furtive moments when she glared at him like she might stab him in the throat with one of the many silver knives on the table, he simply smiled pleasantly, then turned his attention back to another conversation.

Her nails were digging into his palm, and he let her. He wanted to feel her struggling. Wanted to know how her “progress” was coming along.

With any luck, it would be very drawn out, possibly even lasting the rest of the feast. Though if she were this worked up already, it might not take as much time as he’d hoped...

As she turned to look at him, her expression full of fury and nervous desperation, he gave her one of the most blatant shit-eating grins he’d ever given anyone, stood up, and gently clinked his spoon against his glass. 

The room went silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my beautiful betrothed has told me she would like to propose a toast!”


Iona's eyes widened as he made that announcement. 

No... no no no!

She was not sure she could even stand straight, let alone make a toast. And everyone, everyone was staring at her now. So much for not attracting any attention to herself while she fell apart!

Dabbing her face with a napkin, she tried her best to stand up, leaning against the table for support. Her hands were trembling with the effort to maintain the air of calmness. Obviously, she was unsuccessful in doing so, for people had begun to frown at her odd actions.

She looked at Loki and gave him a smile that was too wide and too intense for there to be any good humour in it. It probably made her look crazed and unstable.

Yet another wave of arousal washed over her then, making her clit throb intensely, as if there was a ghostly finger rubbing against it. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Only a moan did. A loud, long moan… 

Her cheeks turned red and she faltered, swaying against the table. 

"Oh Norns!" she cried, thinking at the last moment to throw herself at Loki, making sure that her adorned wrist connected harshly with his crotch. "I don't feel well!"

Just as she fell against his front, taking him down with her, she had an intense, white-hot orgasm. She panted against his neck, muffling her moans into his lapels as best as she could. 


“My dear?” Loki caught her shaking body, holding her close as she rode out her orgasm. Her first orgasm, he reminded himself, already giddy with anticipation for the ones that would follow… and that's when she hit him in the family jewels. His eyes went wide and glassy, and his subversive chuckle became a pained grunt followed by an almost comically high-pitched, wheezing moan. Then they both went down.

The room exploded with gasps and screams. All the nobles went into an uproar. Attendants swarmed Loki and Iona, trying to help them both and near panicking that the two most important people at the feast had just collapsed in front of them.

He could even hear the concerned cry of his mother, asking if Iona was alright.

Despite the pain he was in, Loki couldn’t keep himself from laughing amidst the chaos. Iona was near-incapacitated from a very public magical orgasm, the attendees were squawking like parrots, the servants were frantically trying to figure out what to do...

This was better than he could have hoped!

He leaned down to his sweating, panting fiancé, and took her hand while whispering quietly, voice still strained from the throbbing pain in his crotch. “You’re not done, sweetling; you’ve got plenty more coming. The question is - would you like to have them here, or back in my chambers?”


She moaned again as another flush of magic induced pleasure affected her. Her eyes nearly rolled back. She hardly noticed the chaos around them. Nothing really mattered, except that she wanted to be rid of this desperate feeling in her body to keep coming.

"I h-hate you," she whispered back at him, grasping his shoulders. "Y-Your chambers... not here. Please ."


Loki grinned like a cat that just ate the canary. “Of course, dear,” he said, then he spoke loudly enough so that the crazed servants and attendees took a step back.

“Excuse us, it appears we will need to take our leave a bit early. My betrothed is suffering from a case of the vapours .” It took every ounce of his self-control to keep from doubling over laughing as he explained Iona’s condition. “Please, continue to enjoy the feast on our behalf! Have a wonderful evening. Goodbye, yes, goodbye, goodnight...”

He led her away from the feast, brushing off all well-wishers and worried servants as he hurried them back to his room, feeling her leaning on him and desperately trying to keep her groans of pleasure from being heard.

Finally, they arrived in his chambers. He closed the bedroom door, then let her go as she stumbled to the bed, bent over and still shaking like someone had their mouth attached to her aroused centre.

Which… actually, that was exactly what it was supposed to feel like.

He couldn’t hold it in anymore. He literally slumped to the ground against the door and laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed.

“Oh, NORNS, Iona! That was—that was the best ceremony I’ve attended in centuries! You hit me in the balls!? Well done, sweetling!”

He was so taken with glee he hardly acknowledged that she was still in the throes of overwhelming sexual stimulation as his laughter overtook him.


Iona moaned helplessly, kicking her legs about as another orgasm tore through her. His words barely registered in her mind. The cold satin sheets were a blessing against her heated forehead as she panted away, cursing him to Helheim and back.

He was going to be the death of her!

"You deserved it," she finally mumbled as the orgasm ebbed, though it didn't leave her fully. "I'd punch you... Oh Norns !" Far too soon, the pleasure began to rise again. "I’ll kick you in the stones for this! Repeatedly!"


His cheeks and stomach were aching from his laughter now, tears of joy streaming down his face. Each time he thought he could stop, his eyes would land on her--squirming and moaning with pleasure--and it would start up again.

“I--ha! Iona, I most certainly would deserve it! And it was worth it, every bit of it. Ha! This is the most fun I’ve had since I turned Thor into a frog!”

He brought himself to his feet and walked over to her, placing a gentle hand on her back and leaning over to whisper in her ear.

“Would you like my help, sweetling? The spell will continue until you orgasm from physical stimulation, so...”

Of course, he didn’t mention that the stimulation couldn’t be self-induced. Eventually, she would have to beg him to help her, or she would have to wait for the spell to wear off on its own, which could take hours...

Either way, he was happy, but he decided to let her give it a go first; he was an unabashed voyeur, and this was the perfect opportunity to watch her pleasure herself.


She turned around and gave him a look of uncertainty, while her body still heaved with an impending orgasm. Well, she had little choice here. She knew that he wasn’t going to relent and let her go just like that.

"You're evil," she muttered as her trembling hands tried to pull her skirts up. 

All the thoughts of propriety and demureness were gone from her mind now. She simply wanted relief... 

And so she slipped her hand under her dress and tried to stroke herself to completion. She began panting again with the effort, but the damned fingers just weren't effective enough.

She moaned again, this time in frustration, knowing full well that her betrothed was watching her and enjoying the show. 

Bastard ...


He smirked and lifted an eyebrow, elated by watching her struggle.

“Having trouble, my dear?” he simpered, though he made no move to aid her. He was in no hurry for this to end...


She removed her fingers from her slick centre and glared at him. "Stop this!"

A low growl escaped her as her body neared yet another orgasm. Damnit, it wouldn't count, for it wasn't happening because of her fingers.

"Loki, make it stop, I can't take it anymore!" she cried, arching her back as the waves of pleasure overcame her again. "You can't just... keep making me come like this! I'll die!"

Inherently, she knew she wouldn't die, but at this point, she knew nothing of the ridiculousness of her claim.


He sat on the bed, back resting against several pillows on the headboard, and he patted the mattress between his legs. 

“Shhhhhh. Come here, darling. I’ll make it all better for you. Just lean back against me, and let me take care of the rest.”

The raging erection that tented the front of his breeches seemed almost as inviting as it was threatening. His green eyes watched her with mirth--so disheveled and needy and flushed--as he waited for her to climb up the bed to him.


Near delirious with the never ending orgasms, she did as he asked, crawling up the bed laboriously. Her legs trembled with the effort, for yet another peak of pleasure was on its way. 

The whole episode had exhausted her thoroughly. Her body was desperate for some peace and rest. Her poor clit felt as though it was on fire.

"N-No more tricks... please," she moaned as she collapsed against him, head lolling against his chest. "Just end this..."


He pulled her up next to him and lifted her skirts, settling her between his legs with her back against his chest.

His hand slid along her hip, then dove between her legs underneath her undergarments, resting against her clitoris. He didn’t even move his fingers; he just let them sit against her heated flesh with gentle pressure.

He felt her tightening, squirming against his touch desperately...and against the bulge in his pants. He closed his eyes and shuddered, then leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

“I’ve got you, Iona. Come for me... now .”

Then he flicked her, just one time, and felt her body seize with orgasm at that most delicate of touches and the command in his voice.

He smirked. Norns, this was almost too easy.

As soon as the pleasure finished cresting over her, the snake’s mouth opened, and the bracelet fell from her wrist.


Iona nearly flew off the bed as the orgasm struck her. It seemed like Loki simply needed to give her the deft touch of his fingers to have her moaning in ecstasy. 

"Oh Norns!" she sobbed in relief as the feeling of pervasive and near painful pressure on her sex eased slowly. 

She didn't care that she was literally humping his arousal as she came, for her pleasure was her only goal. In fact, she had almost no awareness of it. 

Finally, as her body's needs were fulfilled, she sighed and relaxed against his front, her eyes drooping close. Exhaustion took her immediately.


Loki chuckled softly as she went limp against him...then he noticed her even breathing and relaxed features. Goodness…she passed out!

And he was fairly trapped beneath her. Something in him refused to move her, feeling like she had somehow earned the relief after what he’d put her through...though the weight of her body on his erect cock was rather maddening...

He shifted around, trying to find a position where his enthusiastic member wouldn’t feel quite so stimulated against her, but...he could not get into that desired position with her asleep against his lap.

He began to sweat a bit...he couldn’t relieve his own needs with her draped over him. He dared not move her, and it was getting worse...

Just then, a group of several healers walked through the door, forgetting to knock in their concern and haste. “Your majesty, we’ve come to attend to-”

His threw Iona’s skirts down her legs and his eyes turned up to them in rage and panic. “CLOSE THE DOOR AND GET OUT!” he whisper-shouted, scaring them off and hoping that they hadn’t seen more than was polite.

Then again, they were healers...they weren’t allowed to say anything even if he hadn’t been quick enough in covering Iona’s modesty.

While he himself remained tortuously aroused, he contemplated what an interesting turn of events this was. She was sleeping peacefully and he was left in a most uncomfortable predicament. Even he had to appreciate the irony of it.

With a resigned sigh, he settled back, accepting the cruel hand that fate had dealt him... and which he so rightly deserved. He would have to deal with his own discomfort in the morning...when Iona would finally awaken and likely hate him forever.

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Loki started noticing some unusual occurrences almost immediately following the engagement ceremony.

The first was rather minor. He sat down to review some edicts...and his favorite pen refused to write. He checked the inkwell - it was full of water instead of ink. Curious, but barely irritating...until he realized that ALL of his ink was missing.

Then, after thoroughly berating the palace staff for leaving his supply of ink unstocked, he returned to his study to read, but when he sat down...he immediately jumped up with a yelp. There were cacti spines pushed up through the upholstery of his chair! He looked around suspiciously… who in the Nine Realms was...

That’s when it began to dawn on him.

The next incident happened after he bathed the following day. He walked out of his bathroom and into his chambers, and was shocked and horrified by what he saw.

RED. Everything - the drapes, the fabrics of his bed, the curtains, even the rugs had been replaced with that hideous shade, and all in the time it took him to shower! He was begrudgingly impressed.

Ignoring the latest disturbance in his life, he went to prepare himself for the day. But when he faced the mirror... that affront was too much.

His hair was blond! Someone had put bleaching dye in his shampoo! Between that and the red fabrics in his room...he looked like Thor Lite (as the Midgardians would say). Ugh, it was humiliating.

With a blast of seidr, he changed everything back to the way he wanted it.

And he was fairly certain he knew who was causing all this trouble… He grinned.

Two could play this game...


Iona was feeling a smug satisfaction about her recent clandestine achievements. There was even a skip in her step these days.

She had just seen Loki out and about, minding his kingly business. And he had looked kind of put out. 

That meant that her good work of the last few days was coming to fruition. 

She smiled impishly as she thought about her trip to the kitchen only a few minutes ago. It was nothing special at all. She had just replaced some things... salt in the place of sugar, sugar in the place of salt...and added a special blend of herbs in his tea.

The Allfather's tea time was nigh. She wished she could witness the aftermath of THAT. It would be such quality entertainment.

Alas, she knew that she couldn’t be there. It would be the worst possible move to be anywhere near Loki while he drank his special tea.

Humming a happy little song to herself, she entered her chambers and went to take a hot, fragrant bath. She was free for a few hours - no one was coming to her doorstep with the wedding plans - so she set about pampering herself.

After the bath, she patted herself dry with a fluffy towel and went over to her armoire to carefully select her clothes. She was going to be a queen in a few months, and the recent additions to her wardrobe represented that.

The clothes were more ornate now, and made of finer material. This was one of the luxuries of the title that she knew she'd come to enjoy.

However, just as she began to peruse her clothes, she began to notice something odd. All of her dresses were now green, and her underclothes were nowhere to be found. 

A gasp escaped her lips then, and her eyes widened.

Oh no. .. Loki was on to her.

With her heart skipping a beat, she rushed over to the full-length mirror in her dressing room to inspect her naked form. 

What she saw in the reflection made her scream.

Her brows, eyelashes, and the intimate curls between her legs... all were dyed green. GREEN!  


Despite the sudden panic, she knew that she had to remedy this situation quickly. She was supposed to make public appearances these days, and sometimes, without prior warning. She would be a laughing stock if she didn’t do something.

Dressing herself quickly - sans the undergarments, of course - she quickly donned a hooded cloak and ran towards the healers' wing to seek a dark coloured hair dye.

On the way, her bare bottom began to itch terribly, feeling as though it was developing hives. It only served to heighten her panic.


Loki’s illusion hid in the shadows as it watched Iona rush from her rooms, covered in a hooded cloak. Back in his chambers, he chuckled before dispersing his ethereal doppelgänger and raising his cup of tea to his lips.

Served her right for—

He spit out ALL the tea from his mouth - it was salty! Incredibly salty, like an ocean...

He pinched some of the small granules from his sugar dish and tasted them - of course. Pure salt. It also made him take note of how much sugar he was accustomed to adding into his tea...

Could he not have one moment of respite? He would teach her not to challenge the God of Mischief in this game he had mastered, that he—

Why was he suddenly so aroused?

Certainly the playful exchange between himself and Iona was alluring...but he suddenly felt... desperate . His cock ached and pushed against the now-almost-unbearable confines of his pants.

A small moan breached his throat as he looked down at the tea… He lifted the cup and took a deep inhale...and almost creamed himself.

That...that… vicious women had spiked his drink with the strongest aphrodisiac known to Aesir-kind. He even knew where she got it from: the herbalist. The plant she used was the same one he had based his bracelet spell on...

He reached into his breeches and tried to relieve the pressure, tugging at himself and nearly whimpering as his touch did absolutely no good...

Ohhhhh... this was too much. 

He stormed out of his chambers, high on testosterone and rage and the need to satisfy this painful arousal immediately, seeking out Iona.


Iona was just returning from the healers' wing, with some temporary mix of make-up and hair darkening potion applied on her face - to save her the humiliation - and a more permanent solution in her pocket. 

Her bottom had to be treated too, for apparently it had developed a sunburn . Thankfully, her healer friends had a topical ointment for that at hand.

Just as she was damning Loki in her thoughts, she saw the queen mother and her ladies heading in her direction. Well, it was certainly good to see that she was finally venturing out of her chambers.

Iona knew where she and entourage were going, for she had been with the queen mother for centuries.  She didn't wish to encounter them at the moment, so she turned around quickly and hurried ahead of them, taking the first turn into the adjoining corridor. 

However, that decision only proved worse for her, for she saw Loki marching down that particular corridor, his countenance murderous and his pants sporting an enormous bulge - visible even through his long tunic.

Oh... he must've had his tea.

Iona couldn't help but giggle at that thought. But she wasn't given the opportunity to fully enjoy her prank, for he spotted her and increased his pace. 

Oh no... 

If he managed to catch her, she knew that he'd drag her to the nearest flat surface and ravish her like a raging bilgesnipe. In this state, he'd not let her go for hours. She couldn't afford to be caught by him!

Suddenly, an idea struck her.

She turned around and gave Loki an alluring, come-hither smile. And then she skipped over to the royal gardens, knowing that he'd come after her.


That look .

So many things happened when she gave him that look. His initial reaction was fury - how dare she tease him, the Allfather , in this way? She may be his betrothed, but she was still just a noblewoman. He fumed...her behavior was completely unacceptable! She needed a correction...

Then, almost as quickly, the rage was replaced by a gnawing urge to hold her down and ravish her until he was satisfied. Everything about her - the flirtatious glint in her eyes, the way her hips swayed as she walked, even the tastefully prudent neckline of the green dress she wore - drove him wild like an animal in heat. And she had beckoned him before wandering out of sight.

That little imp...

With a growl and an almost maniacal focus, he hurried to follow her, all other thoughts and concerns fading as one goal overtook his mind.

Catch her.


Iona had just about reached the gardens when a long arm snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground. She yelped and turned her head to watch the determined and angry expression on Loki's face.

"My king, what are you doing?" she asked breathily, feeling just a tad bit nervous now as he carried her off towards a thick willow tree.

Her slippers had fallen off due to his roughness, and thus she landed barefoot on the grass when he dropped her next to the tree, crowding her against it.

She tried her best to put up a brave face.

"I see that you have a BIG problem, sire," she said as her gaze shifted to his crotch pointedly. "But it's unwise to seek its solution out here."


“It was unwise to give me this problem in the first place!” he snarled at her. His hands went instantly to her breasts, cupping them roughly. And just as he was about to cast an illusion to hide them...

“LOKI ODINSON! What are you doing?!”

Frigga’s familiar chastising voice rang out behind him, making him cringe.

He looked over his shoulder to see his mother - and her entire entourage - standing there, staring at him groping his future wife. 

Norns, could this day get any worse?

He kept his front facing Iona as he released her, eyes narrowing at the smug, satisfied smile on her face.

“Well played, sweetling...” he whispered, once again, begrudgingly impressed. It was an emotion he grew more and more familiar with the longer he spent time with this infuriating woman.

He took her by the shoulders and spun her off the tree, keeping her in front of him as he faced the Queen Mother, hiding his less-than-appropriate urges behind the mass of her skirts. 

He flashed the most charming, innocent smile he could manage.

“Hello, Mother,” he said nicely, as though nothing were the matter. “I, ah, well...this is all really rather embarrassing. A spider landed on Iona and I was trying to assist her in removing it--“

“Loki.” Frigga put her hands on her hips and gave him the look - the look she’d been giving him and Thor all their lives when they got into trouble. Allfather or not, that look instantly quelled any excuses he’d thought to make up. “Leave your poor fiancé alone. She need not suffer your indulgences until after you are wed.”


While Frigga admonished him, Iona slipped from Loki's hold and ran towards her, leaving his priapic state visible to everyone.

"I told him to stop it," she murmured, shifting her countenance to appear utterly lost and nervous as she reached the queen mother and tried to hide behind her. "But you know how he is."

All the ladies gasped as they witnessed the Allfather's present predicament, some even tittering in response, adding to Loki's humiliation. 

Iona smirked at him from behind Frigga, a winning sparkle in her eyes. 

Her impromptu plan had worked beautifully.


Loki’s normally perfect complexion flushed red as Iona slipped away from him and left, enthusiasm exposed in front of the Queen Mother’s entourage.

Ohhhh Norns, Iona would pay for this...

Loki ...” Frigga sounded exasperated. She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “A spider , indeed… Go back to your chambers until you’re more presentable.”

“Yes, Mother...” he mumbled, overwhelmingly embarrassed. With one last glare at his betrothed, he turned quickly to escape back to his rooms, the entire time cursing Iona in his mind as he plotted what he would do to get back at her...


Iona went back to her chambers with a giddy sense of relief and victory in her heart. She had just outsmarted the God of Mischief . That was some achievement!

To celebrate her little victory over Loki, she went straight to her stash of sweet treats and popped one chocolate covered delicacy into her mouth.

However, she had to immediately spit it out, because it tasted all wrong on her tongue. When she looked at its centre, there was a green vegetable there, instead of a delicious dried fruit.

She took a bite of another sweet in her collection, and attained the same results. 

Soon, she discovered that all of her sweets had been replaced with chocolate coated vegetables. And that just about ruined her victorious feeling.


It took three hours for the aphrodisiac’s effect to wear off. By the time Loki brought himself to completion for the last time, his cock was sore and red. And he was exhausted . Sweat matted his hair as he breathed heavily, trying to gather himself following this most unusual afternoon...

He had been outplayed. For the first time in his life, someone had actually beaten him at his own game. And he was not taking it well.

On top of that blow to his ego, later that evening he also was quite put off by the hour-long scolding he received from his mother about how the Allfather should behave. Honestly, after that indignancy, his head spun with thoughts of revenge against Iona, of how he could humiliate her like he’d been humiliated…

But after some time of brooding and considering his options...he calmed those initial urges. That’s what she would be expecting - for him to attack on all fronts in a manic attempt to one-up her. 

No, no...revenge was best served cold, after all...

He had an idea of what might work, but it was weeks out - not until her dress fitting. And until then...he would do nothing.  She could - and he knew that she would - continue to try and goad him as much as she liked, but he would not retaliate. Not until she was completely paranoid about what his eventual revenge would entail.

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Maarika's POV; Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona was growing nervous now, checking her room for traps and tricks every day, even though nothing happened.

She continued her sneaky pranks on Loki after the incident in the royal gardens, despite her wisdom telling her to tone it down a bit. She feared his retaliation, but still, seeing him reacting to her tricks had been so satisfying!

However, ever since the trick at the royal gardens, he hadn't done anything . What more, he no longer showed any response to her pranks. Iona knew that he wasn’t the one to suffer so stoically...

She had put dirt in his shoes, wrinkled all his impeccably crease-less tunics, and moved all the furniture in his room an inch to the left, just enough to mess with his spatial acuity. Still, nothing ...

All was well and good on the face of it. The king didn't seem bothered at all. He didn't even look in her direction whenever they happened to be in the same room in public, especially during those tedious meetings about the wedding arrangements.

The dead silence from him unnerved her terribly.

Weeks had gone by and he hadn't acted out. She couldn't be sure, but she felt like he was planning something horrible. 

The wedding day was getting closer and closer, and Iona wondered if he planned on taking his revenge after they were married. Then, he'd have her within arm's reach, so it seemed apt that he’d wait.

The thought of it made her shiver...


Maarika prepared her tailoring space for the arrival of the soon-to-be-queen. The wedding dress was beautifully displayed on the mannequin in the corner, and everything was nearly ready.

Picking up her silver shears, she inspected them in the light before returning them to their velvet cushion, then she heard a knock at the door.

“Enter!” she said in a sing-song voice. Iona walked in, and Maarika smiled at her warmly.

“Ah, your ladyship! I’ve been looking forward to our appointment. Come, undress, and let’s get this pretty dress on you. Willa sends her apologies that she wasn’t able to be here herself...she had a family emergency. She asked me to come in and attend to you in her stead .”


Iona gave the woman a tentative smile as she locked the door to the fitting room and went to fetch her wedding dress. 

"I hope it's nothing serious. I haven't seen you here before. Are you new; perhaps, an understudy?" she asked as she began to loosen the stays of her dress.

In all honesty, she would have felt more comfortable with the matronly head seamstress, Willa Paalsdottir, than she did with someone she hadn't met before. But it didn’t seem like she’d be afforded that choice, so, she pursed her lips and tried her best to be accommodating.

Being half naked in front of a stranger was not something that thrilled her. Still, this fitting was essential, so she needed to get through it.


Maarika smiled as Iona undressed, even helping her along by pulling her dress off her as quickly as possible. She then went about assisting her in putting on the first of several layers of the bridal ensemble. 

“Somewhat new, yes. I was on Vanaheim working for the Queen Mother’s royal family for the last century or so, then I was asked to come here. All very run-of-the-mill for us servant types!”

She held Iona’s hand to steady her as she stepped up on the fitting platform, and began pinning the underskirts so they clung to Iona’s shapely frame.

“So...tell me about the king! I hear he’s kind of dreamy in a scary, unhinged sort of way...” Maarika grinned but kept her eyes focused on her work. She didn’t seem to have the practiced technique that Willa made look so easy.


Iona compressed her lips as her anxiety spiked at the mention of Loki. This was just great. He needed no tricks at all to have her in this state. Her own mind was doing the work for him.

"He's dreamy indeed," she replied blandly, not wanting to go into the details. "But not mad, as half of Asgard likes to believe. He's quite a capable ruler. And all capable rulers have to be a bit scary."


“I don’t know...I like my men a little scary. Just something about that unpredictability and cold charm...oooh it gets me going! Oh, sorry!” Maarika squeaked as her pin accidentally pricked Iona’s thigh. “Would you stop moving around quite so much, my lady? This does take some precision...”


Iona tried to hold herself still for the young seamstress, grimacing as she pricked her again. This time, on her bottom.

"I'm trying my best here, Maarika, please be a bit gentler in your handling," she urged, keeping her spine stiff and head straight. "And I wonder why you'd want a man who's unpredictable... and cold. That would be so wild. You'd have anxiety for days."


“I suppose that’s just a difference in preference, my lady,” Maarika said as she worked her way up to pinning the soft fabric near Iona’s ribs. “If I were to be betrothed to someone like King Loki...” She stopped for a moment, a distant, far-off expression overtaking her for a few seconds before she came back to reality, blushed at Iona, then shoved a pin ungracefully into the fabric, pricking Iona again - this time on the side of her torso.

“Oh, goodness, my lady...I am trying to be gentle, but every time I’m about to set the pin where I want it, you move!”


Iona had watched her expression when she had mentioned Loki. It was akin to an adolescent girl mooning over a charming prince.

Norns, was she attracted to him?

And then she had pricked her again.

Iona hissed in discomfort, clenching her fists to control her annoyance with the woman.

" Please take care, Maarika,” she requested in a strained voice. “At this rate you'd leave the whole of my body covered in pricks."


“Rumor has it that you don’t like little pricks anyway...” Maarika said under her breath. Before Iona could respond, Maarika pricked her yet again, this time drawing a tiny drop of blood that soaked into the creamy white fabric of the underdress.

While the lady cried out in anguish, Maarika gasped in dismay.

“Oh dear! Well, no one will be able to see that anyway...”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Maarika stood to answer it. “Excuse me, your ladyship. I’ll be back momentarily.” 

Maarika opened the heavy wooden door, and on the other side...was none other than King Loki.

He seemed apathetic, distant, haughty, rather normal, for the last few weeks, anyway.

“Iona, how is your fitting progressing? I was just walking by, so I thought I would check on you, to see if there is anything you might require.”

Maarika’s eyes lit up like candles as she watched him, completely enamored. He paid her no mind.


Iona kind of shrank into herself as Loki talked to her in that commanding, conceited tone. Damn him... why were her thighs trying to squeeze together? Was she accepting Maarika’s ways and reacting to his rudeness in the form of… excitement?

No… no, she wasn’t. Not at all... 

"No, sire, I'm doing quite well," she replied, her hands nervously brushing the folds of her underdress. "The fitting is going on splendidly."

She didn't want to get Maarika in trouble, so she kept the issue of pin pricks to herself. Even though she had made that cheeky comment about her and ‘ pricks ’.

"How is your day going, my king?" she asked sweetly, trying her best to look the part of a loving spouse-to-be.


Loki seemed not to have even heard her as he approached, keeping his hands stiffly behind his back. He bent at the waist to inspect the tailoring thus far, and his eyes travelled over all of Iona’s body...but never up to her face. He seemed to be intentionally avoiding eye contact, with just the slightest sheen of disgust tinging his otherwise impassive expression.

“Hm,” was all he said before standing fully upright again, turning to leave through the open threshold. “Come to the council room once you’ve finished, Iona. We need to discuss seating with the caterer, and the florist needs your input on the final bouquet and other decorative arrangements.”

He said it like he was naming off household chores instead of wedding plans...


Iona was quite put out by his cold, aloof demeanour, even though this had been their normal behaviour towards each other for centuries. Perhaps her pranks had gone too far, but then again, he had invited them upon himself.

Still, his behaviour was pricking her worse than those damned pins that Maarika was insisting on poking into her. Mayhap a tiny bit of hope had begun to blossom in Iona's heart that he'd change his conduct towards her, at least publicly, since they were to be married soon.

Now, he had crushed that hope, making her respond with similar coldness. "I will, sire, as soon as I'm done here."


He stopped in the doorway before exiting, turned back to Iona, and suddenly, a genuine smile spread across his lips. 

“I look forward to seeing you later, darling,” he said softly before walking away, allowing Maarika to close the door behind him.

As soon as she did, she leaned up against it and held her hands to her chest in absolutely glee.

“Oh NORNS! He is....that lady, how can you STAND it?! He’s so dreamy!” She spun around, almost dancing with delight at just that brief interaction that she wasn’t even a part of.


Iona was blushing as Maarika gushed about Loki. She didn't know what to make of his parting words, spoken so gently... so lovingly

It was most likely just a charade, for he knew that Maarika was observing them. Mayhap he wanted to feed her obvious mooning. He was vain enough to attempt that.

"Maarika, will you please hurry up with the fitting?" she asked stiffly, ignoring the young woman's silly antics. "As you just witnessed, I'm required elsewhere, so we need to wrap this up quickly."


Maarika’s mood immediately dampened, and she turned her gaze down. “Yes, of course, my lady...” 

Iona’s clipped command wounded her - she had been waiting to see the King in the flesh for her entire life, and now that she had...she was being chastised for her excitement? It wasn’t fair...

Maarika brought the overdress to Iona and helped her put it on, then continued her work in silence, still somehow pricking Iona with every fourth or fifth pin, only saying “sorry” softly after each one. After several excruciatingly awkward minutes, Maarika looked like she might begin to cry...


Iona was feeling rather weary now. So many pricks... she had endured so many pricks !

And yet, she couldn't bring herself to admonish the woman. She already looked quite down after she had brushed aside all her excitement over Loki.

"Maarika, is something the matter?" she asked gently, seeing that her eyes were beginning to water as she tucked the bodice of her dress.


“No, my lady...” Maarika squeaked, obviously on the verge of tears as she brought the final piece of the dress to Iona and slipped it over her shoulders, “I just...ohhhh!!!”

Maarika covered her face with her hands and began to sob.

“I’m the head of the King Loki Appreciation Society back on Vanaheeeeeeim!” She wailed in despair as she collapsed in a defeated heap on the floor. “Once word gets out that even the new queen despises him, just like everyone’s not fair, it’s just not—WHY DOESN’T ANYONE TRY TO UNDERSTAND HIM?!”

She looked up at Iona from the floor, tears and snot dripping down her face. 

“What IS it that you dislike about him?! What has he done to so insult you that even my excitement must be quelled? If there is something horrible I should know, please my lady, just say so. Give me some relief so I can hate him like everyone else does...I can’t stand feeling like the only one who might give him a chance to prove that he’s worthy of adoration...”

She snuffled a wet snort as she wailed, returning her face to her hands and covering the streaks of tears.


Iona just stared at Maarika in shock, her hands hovering mid-air as the woman wailed and wept over Loki.

Over Loki… of all the people...

"Maarika, please, calm yourself down," she mumbled, trying to gather her expansive dress to get off the fitting platform. It was heavy and hence, she landed on the floor rather clumsily. "I don't hate the king. Why do you think that I do?"

She tried her best to lift the distressed woman off the floor, but the dress made her slow and ungainly. Still, she kept trying, though fearing that she’d likely topple over.

"Maarika, dear, please ..."

In the back of her mind, she also feared that Maarika would spread the rumour about her hating Loki, which would throw a very bad light on her. She hadn't even become the queen yet and already, problems were arising for her.


Maarika gradually stood, leaning heavily onto Iona and still crying like a child. “You DO hate him...I can tell. And he even said he looked forward to seeing you later? Do you have ANY idea what I would give to have King Loki say that to ME?! Just being in the same ROOM with him for a few seconds is all I’ve ever wanted...and you’re going to MARRY him! Ohhhhhh...!”

And she collapsed again, pulling Iona down with her.

“Oh, my lady, please,” she snorted again, getting a bit of her phlegm on Iona’s arm. “If he is as bad as everyone says he is...please tell me. Please let me deal with my grief and move on...anything at all, just...I can’t stand to be in the wrong anymore!”


"No, he's not bad. Not at all," Iona muttered, panting with exertion from trying to move in the heavy dress AND hold the woman upright. "And I love him dearly. Please stop saying that I hate him! Why do you think I'm marrying him?"

She brought Maarika to the nearest sofa and quite literally dumped her there, nearly falling over herself with the effort. Then, she took off the cape and the overdress and set it aside, letting out a sigh of relief as the weight was taken off her shoulders.

Pouring a glass of water from the nearby pitcher, she brought it to Maarika and handed it to her. "Here, please drink this and try to calm yourself. We can talk afterwards. I'll tell you about my relationship with King Loki."


Maarika nodded and took the glass, bringing it to her lips and sipping it delicately, trying to calm down. After a few minutes of deep breaths, refreshing gulps of water and Iona rubbing her back gently (which felt lovely), Maarika finally sighed and collected herself.

“Thank you, my lady. I’m so sorry...I spend so much time defending King Loki, sometimes it wears on me. Please, I would love to know more about your relationship. What is he like?”


Letting out a sigh, Iona prepared to lie through her teeth. 

"Well, he's very gentle and sweet in private. He loves to leave me little presents whenever he visits me, you know." She bit her lip and blushed as she remembered what the last present of his did to her. Cad ... "And he's very chivalrous... always making sure that I have all the comforts in the world. He did that even in the early days of our youth."

She tried her best to assume a faraway, dreamy look in her eyes as she talked about her would-be husband, as though theirs was the greatest romance ever.

"Our true romance only began while he was in the dungeons, though, when I used to sneak him things of his interest upon the queen mother's command." Iona then turned her attention back on Maarika and smiled sweetly. "Now tell me, how did you become so enamoured with the king? I haven't seen such a worshiping reaction from anyone else before."


“Oh, I have always been quite taken with his majesty, even when he was a prince, before all of this...” Maarika waved her hand in the air, searching for the words. The gesture seemed strangely familiar...

Unpleasantness ,” she said, finally deciding what best described the king’s last few years. “I though I could relate to his struggles, like if I were put in the situations he had been in, I may very well have acted in the same manner. But he is royalty, after all, and I’m just...I’m a tailor’s apprentice...”

Suddenly, she laughed. It started like a small giggle, which gradually grew into a louder chuckle, until it was almost uncontainable. And it did not sound natural to someone of Maarika’s stature or upbringing...


Iona blinked at Maarika in utter confusion. Her behaviour was beginning to bother her, even to the extent of making her nervous. Something about it was... off .

"Yes, well, there have been many upheavals in the king's life. I'm glad that you sympathize with him." She shifted awkwardly on the sofa while Maarika kept laughing like a lunatic. "Umm, Maarika, I think it best to have the fitting tomorrow, perhaps. You need to... mayhap have some rest?"


“You’re probably right,” she laughed again. “I’m not especially good at this, am I?”

Then a very familiar look crossed Maarika’s face - smirking, with one eyebrow raised.

“It has been so good getting to know you better, your ladyship ! Your patience and your beautiful way with words - false as they may be - are certainly impressive.”


Iona's heart fluttered as Maarika's face showed her Loki's expressions.

Another trick...another ruse!

However, this time she didn't react the way she had reacted with the servant girl

She simply leaned against the sofa and observed his seamstress persona coldly.

"Same trick twice ? You're getting desperate," she remarked, keeping her ire in check. "And here I was expecting something else entirely."


She kept laughing.

“Desperate? No, dear. I just wanted to prick you with those pins as many times as possible - for all of those minor slights over the last few weeks. And did you SEE that illusion I made of myself? Quite the red herring. Even you looked surprised.”

Then her breath held for just a moment as she searched Iona’s eyes, still mirthful but tempered, questioning.

“Why do you keep standing up for me, Iona? Even the most well-trained noblewoman would have opened up after that charade...I know you hate me, so why?”

Before she could respond, Maarika/Loki put her finger to Iona’s lips. “And don’t say it’s your ‘wifely duty.’ You had no issue bad-mouthing me before I became the Allfather, so what is it?”


"I'm sorry, but I don't answer to illusions," she said tersely, her lips brushing against Loki’s finger as she spoke. 

She moved away from the disguised king and rose from the sofa, her demeanour growing more guarded.

"Aren't we getting late for our meeting?"


“There’s no meeting,” she chuckled. “All part of the ruse...” 

The feeling of Iona’s lips moving against her finger sent a pleasant shiver through Loki. Oh, Norns , just that small thing got her going. She even felt some wetness starting between her legs...

Then...Loki had an idea. It may have been a risky thought, but Iona had certainly proven herself capable of keeping her lips sealed.

With another grin, she stood and faced Iona, holding her by the hips. 

“Since you’ve been so… enthusiastic in shaping my image as a loving would-be husband, I want to offer you something in return. I have a secret I want to share with you. No more illusions, I promise.”

Loki shimmered in gold, back to his usual form, ready to explain what he was about to do, but finding it hard to get the words to come out. After a moment’s hesitation, he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her, deeply, passionately... vulnerably . There was a gentleness to it that was very unlike his usual bravado and dominance.


"Wh-What secret?" Iona asked, watching him with heavy-lidded eyes as their lips parted. She had wished to resist him… but somehow, not done it. Despite their differences, her body seemed to welcome his touch. “Are you going to play a prank on me again?”

She had blurted out that last question, against her better judgment. Somehow, his unexpected kiss had discombobulated her, taken away the layers of protection she had been wearing around her psyche, and rendered her vulnerable.

She wasn’t sure, but there was something different in the way his lips had caressed hers. And it had pulled an earnest response from her.


Loki smiled - differently than Iona had seen before. There was no malice, or mischief, or misdirection. It was, as best he could manage, honest . “No. Not another prank. This is...true,” he assured her.

Then he kissed her again, with the same tenderness as before, silently asking her to trust him.


She kissed him back, hesitant but assiduous, giving him encouragement to go ahead with his reveal. She wished to show him that she could be honest and encouraging... if he was willing to be so as well.


He took a deep breath and swallowed hard, gathering his courage...then he shimmered in gold once again.

Loki changed into a form Iona had not seen before. The shift was quite subtle, and the person standing there was still very obviously Loki in features and face. But beautiful, soft... female .

The smile changed only slightly, to something much more...delicate. 

“I am not...simply male OR female. Physically, of course, I can be whatever I want to be, is more than that. I am both...and neither...simultaneously. But I AM myself here.”

Her voice was husky and dark, so like the male Loki’s and yet so utterly different.

Chapter Text

All hail Queen Loki


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona's head tilted sideways as she stared at Loki in wonder. Her mouth dropped in surprise. The woman in front of her was striking in the same way as her male counterpart was, but still, there was a world of difference.

She had known about the existence of individuals who existed outside the strict definition of gender, but Loki was still... different. He - she - could just change it at will…? It was most unsettling...

"What makes you think that I won't share this information?"

She still didn't understand why Loki was being so honest with her. For weeks he had treated her callously--and she had retaliated in the same vein. Now, he was suddenly entrusting her with this secret?


Loki giggled at the look she made - it was like a befuddled puppy. She couldn’t help it - Iona was so endearing when she was confused.

And the attempted threat glanced off her like water off a duck’s back.

“You could have shared so much more over the past weeks, and you remained discreet. Even I don’t understand it...but maybe someday I will. We will be spending quite a bit more time together very soon, and I want you to understand how much I appreciate your... loyalty .”

Loki wrapped a strand of Iona’s hair around her finger, gently brushing her cheek as she did. Her answering shiver was very telling.

“I’m not all lies and cruelty, my dear. Trickster though I may be, it doesn’t preclude me from being open in the right circumstances. I feel you’ve proven yourself worthy of my trust...for this secret, at least.”


"So, you're constantly testing me, to see if I’ll keep being discreet?" Iona asked softly, moved by her gentle touch. Norns, why did her touch affect her this way? It was so wonderful and tender...

Slowly, her eyes dilated at she regarded Loki in this distinctly familiar, yet unfamiliar form. The feminine features gave him-- her --a softness that was obviously lacking in his male form. Still, Loki was as beautiful as ever.

It was a bit unfair.

"And has the test ended now, sire? Can I breathe easy?"


“Please, dear. Call me by my name. I do so love the sound of it coming off your tongue...”


Norns, that husky voice of hers was as hypnotic as his deep baritone.

"Loki," Iona murmured quietly, just as Loki’s long fingers threaded through her hair, cradling her head. "How does that sound?"

Her tone became sultry as she asked that question, her eyes fluttering as Loki came closer. Her resistance to him, or her, for that matter, was slowly eroding, but still, in the back of her mind, she kept wondering if she was making a mistake… if she’d end up getting hurt.


Loki hummed approvingly, closing her eyes and taking a shuddering breath. Iona’s voice sent shivers up and down her spine. 

“That sounds...lovely...” she said softly. Then, remembering her earlier question, Loki smiled and her tone turned a shade darker.

“I will always test you, Iona. I will push your limits in every way I know how, to learn all of the secrets your mind and body possess.”

Try as she might, Loki could not pull her eyes away from Iona’s lips...soft and pillowy, slightly open, begging to be kissed again...

“Like that secret of your attraction for women. Have you...explored it before?”


Iona blushed as she considered the question, remembering her trip to Vanaheim many moons ago. It was with one of the fast friends she had made there, another nobleman's daughter... she had been quite young and naive back then, and the girl's touch had been pleasant.

They had explored each other under the garb of preparing themselves for men...

"I... I don't recall that I have," she lied, trying to pry her eyes from Loki. She didn't know if her secrets were safe with her. Yet.


Loki narrowed her eyes at Iona. “Darling...what am I the God of again?” She smirked.


Iona clenched her fists, nerves catching up with her. Damn, why was Loki able to detect her lies so easily? Could she ever learn to keep any secrets safe from the god of lies?

"It was a long time ago," she mumbled, looking down. "I didn't even realize what I was doing."


Loki smiled, then kissed her softly, sweetly. It was not forceful or charged, but it was passionate nonetheless. Even after they parted, Loki felt Iona’s lips on hers still. They tingled.

“Everyone starts somewhere, Iona. Even me. I think that few people realize what they’re doing at any given moment - it’s only in retrospect that they can judge and decide whether their actions were ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ But lies and truth...those don’t change based on perception. Never fear telling me the truth, sweetling.”


Iona licked her lips as she stared up at Loki, giving her a small nod, even though this sudden sweetness and gentleness from her would-be spouse was confusing her to no end…

"I'll try my best," she murmured, eyes gravitating towards those sultry, sensual lips that had just kissed her. 

Norns, why did Loki have to be so alluring as a woman? This was weakening her plans to get her revenge...


“Good girl,” Loki purred, taking her betrothed’s cheek in her hand and feeling a swell of arousal as Iona closed her eyes and absorbed the praise.

While Loki didn’t often shift physically into female form, she was always surprised by how much more empathetic she felt when she did...this quiet, intimate moment with Iona was dragging that less-than-gentle moment in the throne room to the forefront of her mind.

The potent combination of testosterone and manipulation and always ended up backfiring on him. Always. And yet, there was still a thrill to it that kept, him ...going back to it.

No, she needed to clear the air...while she was still in the mindset to do so.

“Iona, I...” Her eyes shifted, and she looked down. “About...what happened in the throne room, the day before the engagement ceremony...”


Iona stiffened at the mention of it, which felt like cold water being poured on her. 

"What about it?" she asked, frowning at her.


Loki held her breath and swallowed hard. “I may have...pushed you a bit far. Even for me. And I...”

Norns, why was this so hard to do? Lack of practice, probably...

She licked her lips, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

“ sorry...for how I behaved.”


Iona tilted her head in confusion once again.

"You... you mean it?" Suddenly, she felt very vulnerable. This wasn't what she had expected. At all.


“I regret what I did to you, yes.” Her voice was smaller, and she heard it crackle as she spoke. Goodness, was this form about to start ovulating? Why did she feel so...emotional?

Because she did feel guilty. Not for forcing Iona to be her... his ...bride, but what HE had done to her afterwards. And that part was all Him.

So often, his mind was split - he may be clear on what he wanted to accomplish, but the methods He used were so often much more violent and hurtful than what She would have chosen. And now that Loki was She, at least for now...amends had to be made.

“I need you as my wife. That cannot change, but...what happened in the throne room, what I made you say, what I did. It started out as a bit of fun, but...something took over. And I only realized afterwards how much I had hurt you. So...yes. I mean it. I’m sorry.”


Iona's eyes brimmed with tears as she listened to her confession. And somehow, she found the courage to speak her mind, even though she knew that she'd be treading thin ice.

"Apologies come easily, don’t they? Especially in this form, when I can feel your feminine gentleness, when you can be removed from the man who hurt me," she muttered, pulling away from her slightly. "Forgive me, Loki; you may feel like I have proven myself trustworthy to you but… I still cannot trust you. You wanted the truth from me, and this is the truth. I'll be your wife soon, and I'll fulfill the requirements of my role as you want me to... but trust... and forgiveness... I have no control over them. Only time can change that."


Loki’s eyebrows peaked and her brow furrowed. It wasn’t the answer she wanted...but how could she expect anything more?

She nodded. “I understand, sweetling. And I cannot say I will always be so...forthcoming as I am now. I tend to act as the mood strikes me.”

Then she reached up and took Iona’s covered breast in her hand, running her thumb across the swell above the edge of her bodice. “And at this moment, I feel compelled to give you the true reward for your honesty and discretion, the one I had in mind at the betrothal feast....”

Her other hand came up as well, and she squeezed Iona’s breasts firmly, feeling her heart begin to pound.


Norns, Loki's mood changed so quickly, she couldn't keep up. One moment, she was asking for forgiveness, and now... she was trying to seduce her again.

"I... I didn't have a reward in mind when I kept your secrets," she mumbled, sighing as Loki stroked her nipples through her underdress.


“I know, dear, and that makes it all the more sweeter.”

Truly, even Loki couldn’t understand why she was being so strange. This wasn’t just her female was something Iona did to her. She seemed to lose herself around this woman - the carefully cultivated control she had practiced all her life just dissolved in her presence. It was maddening.

And alluring.

Loki stopped for a moment, just long enough to look Iona in the eye, to read her body, ensure that she was willing...then she kissed her again. Deep, hard. She backed Iona up to the wall, still squeezing her breasts, now thumbing over her nipples in earnest.

It had been a difficult day - and Loki was ready to relieve the stress of it.


Iona gasped as Loki pushed her against the wall, taking her lips in a heated kiss. This was so different from her earlier kiss... Iona was certain that she was being pulled from one direction to another.

Her hands fluttered around her before finally settling on Loki’s shoulders, narrower than her male form. 

Loki’s hands were still groping her breasts, making her shiver with every pass of her thumbs over her sensitive nipples. She whimpered in need, the lust once again winning over her apprehension.


That whimper destroyed any doubt Loki had left. With a moan, she drew her finger down the front of Iona’s still-pinned underdress, and where it passed, a sparkle of seidr made the fabric just...fall apart. Iona’s beautiful breasts freed themselves, and just as Loki was about to dive down and take her nipples into her mouth...she noticed all the small, red prick-marks on Iona’s torso and legs.

“Oh...dear…” Loki didn’t know whether to laugh or apologize shamefully. There were dozens of them! The poor thing really had endured quite a bit. Perhaps she had been too enthusiastic as Maarika…

“Let me fix this for you first…” Loki smiled, and she began to kiss each mark on Iona’s body.


Iona was so confused when Loki began to kiss down her body. Her inherent self-consciousness reared its head again, and her trembling hands loosely tried to cover her modesty from her would-be spouse. It was so silly, though, considering that Loki had already seen her intimately…

She wondered what she meant when she said she’d ‘fix this’. Was there something wrong with her? That needed fixing?

Just as her mind was about to torment her about it, she began to feel the crisp static of seidr across her skin. It made her jerk, prompting her to pull away nervously, but Loki held her fast in her unyielding but gentle grip.


“It’s alright, darling,” Loki mumbled against her skin, trying to calm her. With each kiss, she healed the minor injuries - and though it took a while to gently kiss each blemish, Loki didn’t mind taking her time.

Finally, every prick Loki had delivered was healed, and she smiled at her soon-to-be wife, who had relaxed once she’d realized what was happening. Iona gave her a lazy, almost sleepy smile.

That’s when Loki’s gaze turned predatory once more.

“Now...where were we?”

And she promptly attached her mouth to Iona’s breast, grabbing her tightly.


Iona yelped when Loki grabbed her and began to assault her nipples with her mouth. The yelp soon turned into a deep moan, and the moan turned into soft cries. Loki was pulling sounds of sexual surrender from deep within her soul, and Iona was just… helpless against it all.

Her betrothed’s hands seemed omnipresent on her body, grasping her bottom, running down her hips, pushing her thighs apart.

Iona was left in a daze, so completely pushed off-balance by this burst of lust from Loki...


Loki was in a frenzy. In a burst of seidr, the fitting room changed - blankets, pillows, all soft surfaces covered the room, and Loki pulled Iona down to the now-luxuriously-comfortable floor with her now-completely-naked body. 

She looked absolutely stunning, laid out before her like a sumptuous feast, flushed and bright eyed.

Without hesitation, she kissed down Iona’s stomach, sliding her shoulders between Iona’s legs. But before she indulged herself, her eyes flashed up, watching her fiancé through the long strands of her black hair and checking in again. She would not make the same mistakes He had made back in the throne room...

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona's gaze locked with Loki, who's emerald eyes seemed to be asking her silently for permission... 

She bit her lip, still catching her breath. Instead of saying anything, she slowly spread her legs for her, exposing her slick, intimate parts to her. Her face burned as she did so, but for now, she somehow suppressed the urge to cover herself.


It was all the invitation Loki needed.

She placed an open-mouthed kiss on Iona’s wet pussy, tasting her; by VALHALLA she was delicious! The honey-flavored liquid covered her tongue and lips, and she began drawing the tip of her tongue along the edges of Iona’s womanhood. 

She gripped Iona’s hips firmly, preventing her from moving away, and ferociously devoured her with her mouth and tongue, sliding inside her, around her, over her clit, and back again. The resultant slurping and squelching sounds were obscene...and wonderful.


A desperate, high pitched shriek escaped Iona as Loki delved between her legs with a ferocity that had matched his actions in the throne room.

It was nearly scary, but also, so very arousing. 

She grasped the blankets, panting and moaning, calling Loki’s name repeatedly like it was the only word she knew.


Ohhhh the sound of Iona’s voice calling her name! Male, female, or anything in between, it didn’t matter - it drove Loki mad with desire.

For a while longer, she continued to attack Iona’s most sensitive spots with only her mouth, just REVELING in the sounds and scents and taste, feeling her own center growing wetter as Iona writhed and squirmed in her grip.

Finally, she slid two fingers inside Iona as she worked, her mouth sucking and nipping at her clit while she finger-fucked her with hard, strong strokes and pressed the pads of her fingers against her that deep pleasure spot inside her channel, feeling her coiling tighter.

Come for me, darling , Loki thought, as though merely saying it in her mind would make it happen.


Iona's whole body seized as the waves of her orgasm hit her. She desperately grasped Loki's head and pressed herself to her mouth and fingers, crying out in ecstasy. 

"Oh Norns, Loki!" Sobs of intense pleasure escaped her as Loki kept pressing her tongue against her sensitive clit, prolonging her release to a point where it was almost painful.


Loki moaned with pleasure and satisfaction as Iona came against her tongue, trying to catch her breath. She was vibrating with the intensity of taking Iona again.

What was it about her that did this to her? She made Loki act irrationally, give in to all her urges, lose control when she PRIDED herself on control!

And yet...wasn’t it rather wonderful, in its own way?

With a final exhale, Loki adjusted herself and wiped her face with the blankets. Then, she crawled up to eye-level with Iona and laid down next to her, resting her head on her lover’s shoulder.

“How was that, dear?” she asked with a confident smirk.


Iona swallowed hard, her breathing still laboured and loud. 

For a few moments, she just couldn't form words on her lips. Expressing it to Loki was difficult...

So she did what her body told her to do, she turned towards Loki and kissed her shyly, tasting herself on her tongue.


Loki...was surprised. And delighted. She caressed Iona’s cheek and returned the kiss gently, moaning softly in response.

It was...nice. And easy. And so, so soft.

For the love of the Nine, the Norns, and all the gods-of-gods...Loki wanted her. But she didn’t know how to encourage Iona to act. Or even IF Iona wanted to act.

Fine...if a cozy make out would be her only reward for Iona’s orgasm, so be it. With a small smile, she let her lover set the pace.


Iona pressed her body to Loki's as she kissed her, her hands slowly exploring her. She had been told aplenty about how to serve her future husband well, but she was still very inexperienced in all things sexual. Especially with women.

Her hands cupped Loki's breasts, finding them surprisingly soft. This was such a departure from her male form, which was hard and muscular, and still, both forms were pleasing in their own ways.

Breaking the kiss, she stared into Loki's eyes, hitching a leg over hers. "Do you enjoy pleasure in this form more or in your male form?" she asked, genuinely curious.


Loki blinked, then a smile spread across her face. She never thought she’d be asked a question like that - never thought she’d be WITH someone who would ask a question like that. Her heart fluttered, and for just a moment, her silvertongue failed her.

“Um...both are...well, both are great...” Smooth, she chastised herself in her own mind, but she recovered quickly.

“That is to say, I enjoy pleasure in any form...not so much more or less than another. I find being female is...more frightening, it’s so much more vulnerable. But I haven’t experienced as much as a female as I have as a male.” She blushed. “I suppose...there’s more to explore. If I have a partner who’s willing to explore it with me...”


"As your wife, I suppose it is my duty," Iona admitted, pinching Loki's nipple. 

Slowly, her hand travelled down to cup her between her legs, marveling at the feel of her silken flesh… the feminine folds. It had been so long since she had touched another woman like this, she almost couldn’t recall the experience.

She pushed a finger in while she watched Loki closely, liking the way her body reacted to it. She spread her legs and moved her hips in response, giving Iona an encouraging smile.

"If I don't satisfy you, let me know. This is still new to me," Iona whispered self-consciously, pulling her finger out and moving down Loki’s body.

She couldn't quite imitate what Loki had done to her, but she had to try. Spreading her legs wide, she planted a tentative kiss on her clit.


Loki sucked in a shuddering breath when she pinched her nipple.

She began to shake when Iona put her hand between her legs.

And when Iona’s mouth found her was like she’d died and gone to Valhalla.

“Oh, Iona...of course. Take your time, I’ll... oh NORNS. ..let you know if I...have any advice...”

Loki hadn’t realized how intensely aroused she was - she had been too focused on making sure Iona was comfortable, on trying to prove - with her actions and her words - that Iona could learn to trust her, someday.

And now...she found it hard to breathe. The sensations were overwhelming - everything in her body was tingling and desperate.

Loki arched her back and moaned. The soft, hesitant touches were ambrosia!

“Doing well so far,” she managed to gasp.


Iona somehow glowed with the praise she was receiving. It made her want to push herself harder to please Loki. It was an added pleasure that she tasted like a sweet treat. Did she do it by magic?

Her soft, nimble fingers slipped inside Loki's pussy again as she sucked on her clit. She tried to copy the action Loki had performed on her, curling her fingers inside her and pushing the tips up to caress her upper walls.

When Loki arched her back in response, she assumed she was doing something right. This was proving to be a fun learning experience, making Loki writhe in pleasure made her feel powerful...


“Ooooohhhh sweetling, you’re doing wonderfully. Press a little deeper...and move faster as you feel me... sweet, holy Yggdrasil. ..start to squeeze you...”

Loki was nearly panting with desire, grabbing the blankets for dear life.


Iona smiled to herself as she watched Loki lose herself to pleasure. She moaned against her clit, rubbing it with her tongue with a firm pressure. 

Her fingers tried to reach deeper, even though they weren’t as long as Loki's. She followed her instructions diligently... and then felt her channel squeeze her fingers.


Fuck ...” Loki whispered, well and truly overcome by what Iona was doing to her. Her heels dug into the carpeted floor as she lifted her hips, changing her angle to allow her fiancé better access.

“Iona... please ...”

The words slipped unbidden from her mouth, and even in her sex-induced haze, they surprised her. Loki had never, never, begged.

What had this little minx DONE to her?!


Iona felt the swell of pride enveloping her suddenly. She made Loki beg... goodness, this was heady.

She pulled away from her clit for a moment, asking her in a husky voice. "What do you want, Loki?"

Her fingers kept working inside her, increasing their pace.


Loki moaned needily, drawn out and utterly guileless. 


She was trying...she was REALLY trying to say something, anything. But Iona’s movements shut her brain down - it was all lust and desire and the disabling urge for that impending completion...


"Tell me you're a wanton whore for me," Iona murmured, looking right into her eyes, her gaze turning slightly malicious as she went back to sucking her clit.


At Iona’s words, Loki’s whimpers turned to a growl. She groaned, and thrust her hips up into her lover’s mouth.

“ a wanton whore...for you...Iona.”


Oh, hearing that from the lips of her ruthless betrothed was… sweet. And satisfying...

Iona hummed against her clit, sliding three fingers into her sopping wet pussy. She was drunk on the power she exerted now, and she knew that Loki was close.

Just as her fingers began to draw more of her slick from her like a brook, she felt Loki cry out and tighten around them like a vice.


Loki’s moans turned to shrieks, feeling so full and stretched and open and... dominated. It broke the most amazing way possible.

Loki orgasmed harder than she’d ever come in her over 1200 years of life. Her body felt electrocuted, fireworks exploded behind her eyes, she couldn’t control the volume of her voice, and the only thing she could think to say was “oh NORNS Iona!” over, and over again.

She rode out her pleasure on Iona’s hand and mouth, and she moved unthinkingly, instinctively. Her breathing melded with constant, panting moans, until she finally came down from the crest, sweating, exhausted, and thoroughly satisfied.

Her brain needed a moment to piece itself back together.


Iona wiped her mouth clean and crawled back up to face Loki. She had a glazed, lost look on her face, and that look caused Iona's insides to curl in pleasure.

"You were such a good girl, Loki," she whispered to her, kissing her almost chastely. She nearly giggled with the surge of power she felt. "My sweet wanton whore."


Loki shuddered, laughed, kind of cried, and moaned all at the same time. What an unusual feeling...amazing and powerful, to be sure, but very much unlike anything she’d felt before. She... LOVED it. Ooooh, it was so heady...what had just happened?

“Sweet Valhalla, Iona. You’re a natural.” Loki giggled. “Call me whatever you want, just don’t ever deny me THAT again.”

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Lady Iona?” It was the mousey servant girl’s voice...the same one Loki had pretended to be during the engagement party. “I’ve been asked to check on’re late for your appointment with the florist. Will you be done soon?


Iona was startled. Suddenly, the bubble Loki had built around them burst, pulling her back to reality.

"No meetings, you said?” She narrowed her eyes at Loki, who simply grinned and shrugged. Pulling away from her, she scrambled to get up, searching for her dress. "And I probably look a fright!"


Loki just smiled. “Shhhhh, it’s alright.” She took her hand and stood. Then, in a shower of gold, everything around them changed - the fitting room returned to its original state, Iona’s dress and hair were restored perfectly, her wedding dress reappeared on the mannequin...and Loki was a king once more.

“Go on - I’ll head out in a few minutes.” It took him by surprise for just a moment, hearing his deeper, masculine voice once again.


Iona nodded, somehow feeling less bold in his male form's presence. He was much more intimidating than his female form.

"Thank you, Loki," she said, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him chastely on the cheek, "for fitting my wedding dress, however awful that attempt was."

He chuckled at that remark, and so did she.


He held her gently to him by her waist, and gave her a soft kiss on the lips, still reeling from the orgasm she’d given him. And admittedly, seeing her in a new light.

“Thank you, sweetling,” he said, “for everything. Now go on. I’ll meet you in the conference hall in a few minutes.”


She blushed, feeling a bout of shyness wash over her again. "I’m not sure what you did to poor Willa, but please restore her as the head seamstress."

He snorted, quickly covering it up with a fake cough. Iona shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips as she slipped away from his hold.

As she reached the door and grasped its handle, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, opening her mouth to speak. “I don’t hate you, Loki, if you must know. Well, unless you’re being a cad. I admit, I used to say a lot of awful things to you in the past, but that was mostly to get a rise out of you.”

She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder, seeing his brows rising as he heard her confession.

“I champion you because you don’t deserve the ire of your people, which is often rooted in falsities. You’re their king, and you ought to be uplifted rather than put down in their eyes. The reasons for our differences are personal, and they should never reflect on you as a ruler and sovereign.”

With that, she opened the door and walked out, nodding to the servant girl in greeting. 


Loki blinked, stunned into silence as Iona left. He had an odd feeling in his chest...she was right, of course. But he’d never expected it from her - or anyone , for that matter. For so long, he had been tied up in his family drama; he’d forgotten that he ever could be redeemed in the eyes of his citizens. But she hadn’t...she never had. Suddenly, he felt so differently about her. He respected her, and her abilities as a Queen.

And there was something else. It wasn’t just the sex or the world-ending orgasm...they’d had a real moment.

They’d both made discoveries, shared secrets, experienced new and strange feelings. It wasn’t love - though, who was he to say what love felt like? No, it was...a beginning.

A beginning, he realized, that they may very well have the rest of their lives to play out.

After musing for several more minutes, he exited the fitting room, heading to the council room where his betrothed, and a cadre of wedding planners, awaited him.

And, for the first time, he was actually excited about marrying her.

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona stood by the window overlooking the Observatory and the Upphiminn. The view from here - her new royal chambers - was quite spectacular.

It was essentially the same view that Loki’s royal chambers had.

Her old chambers hadn’t the same grand view, simply overlooking the little cobblestoned paths alongside the palace, it’s boundaries, and the parts of the Capital that lay ahead.

The change of view was just many of the many changes occurring in her life now...

She was to be wed to Loki today , and she was to be a queen. Not just any queen, the Allmother . It was quite overwhelming to imagine being someone that important and powerful. 

While Iona had been literally pushed by her parents to develop intimate and warm relations with the Asgardian royal family, she hadn’t actually believed that it would lead to her becoming the queen .

Moreso, it wasn’t the warmth and intimacy that had gotten her here… it was the animosity . Funny, how that worked out...

While being the queen’s lady-in-waiting had earned her many benefits and luxuries, Iona had kind of given up on the true ambition of her parents long ago, for Thor had hardly ever shown any interest in her.

Loki, on the other hand, had shown absolutely the wrong kind of interest in her. And hence, this day and all the weeks leading up to it sometimes felt like a fever dream to her.

“Your grace?”

Iona turned away from the window and faced one of her newly appointed handmaidens. “Yes?”

She smiled at her tentatively. “It’s time. We are to escort you to the ceremonial dais.”

Iona nodded, feeling her heart flutter in her chest like a restless bird. It wasn’t the ceremony that made her nervous, though. It was her would-be-husband.

After all, she had done a neat job of subtly teasing him all these weeks, without letting herself fall within arm’s reach of him. She had been deliberately avoiding him for the past few weeks leading up to the wedding, wishing to see how far he'd accommodate her, how far his patience would stretch. So far, he had been doing fabulously well… even though she had begun to see the signs of frustration on his striking face.

It had been such fun, sending teasing smiles his way when they were in public, then vanishing into her rooms when he looked like he'd seek her out.

Today would mark the end of all that, and Loki would have full access to her. She wondered how he’d act… she wondered how he’d be as a husband…

The past few months, many people had come to her, offering advice and wisdom on Loki. What they had imparted was mostly prejudice, often laced with pity for her sake. In that vein, Loki ought to be an evil and cruel husband, not to mention, an utterly despotic ruler.

Well , she thought mordantly, a slight smirk forming on her lips, poor me and Asgard… 

“Let’s go,” she said to the handmaiden, taking a deep breath and gathering her heavy skirts in her hands. “Don’t let me fall; this dress makes me quite ungainly.”


Hours...upon HOURS...later—

Finally, the ceremony was over.

When they’d begun, Loki had been collected and calm...but as the tedious display of Asgardian wealth and tradition rolled on, his patience grew thinner and thinner. Not just because he detested these long, drawn-out royal ceremonies - weddings in particular - but because his now- wife would be meeting him in their chambers for the first time, to consummate their marriage, and he could hardly contain himself.

Iona had been brutal . Ruthless in her steadfast resolve. Loki had never matched against a foe quite as unyielding as her .

Not once. Since the fitting. Did they fuck.

Not one single Norns-forsaken time.

She hadn’t even allowed him a sneaky touch here and there!

At first, when she had told him that she planned to wait until the wedding night, he thought she was jesting. He swore she was jesting. How could she? Why would she?! It seemed an awful sacrifice to make for the sake of propriety .

But no. She had brushed off all his advances, ignored his pleas, and deflected his attempts to have a rational conversation with her regarding the matter. She had avoided him actively - he knew that it was because she herself was struggling with the decision, he just knew it. In the slight glimpses he was able to catch between his leadership duties and her planning, she gave him maddeningly flirtatious looks. Once, she even winked! The audacity of it was both infuriating...and begrudgingly impressive.

But today was the day. The ceremony was over, the reception feast had ended. The time had come. And Loki, King of Asgard, Allfather, God of Mischief and Lies, was about to FUCK the living daylights out of his wife.


Iona was preparing herself for the night with her handmaidens after the wedding feast had been concluded. Finally!

She was honest to goodness feeling exhausted . Who decided that weddings had to take a whole damn day?

Her handmaidens pulled her hair from its braids and combed it till it fell to her upper thighs in long mahogany waves. They then applied some kind of scented potion to it. It smelled like sandalwood and wildflowers. 

She shrugged, it was pleasant enough.

Finally, they provided her with a special nightwear for tonight. She looked at it with confusion.

It was mostly just lace with no lining, short and scandalously translucent. One of the handmaidens giggled at her confusion, telling her that the queen mother had specially selected it for her. For her wedding night.

Norns, why did the queen mother have to intervene like this? The thought of Frigga paying mind to her and Loki’s wedding night was… nothing short of disturbing .

While she dressed herself in the barely-there garment, she learned, courtesy the handmaidens, that it was an age-old tradition on Vanaheim - the queen mother’s native realm. The groom's mother selected the bride’s nightwear for her wedding night. 

Strange traditions...

Still, Iona smiled impishly as she looked at herself in the mirror. Loki would probably hit the roof upon seeing her like this.

She wondered what he'd do tonight. Whether he'd beg for her or whether he'd assert himself.

The latter thought filled her stomach with butterflies, dousing her in a rush of arousal. 

When she finally entered their nuptial chambers, through a passage that now connected their personal rooms, she found him reclining on a sofa, sipping wine.


He knew she was coming. She would be walking through that door any minute. And he would simply relax in his silk robe, and lounge, and drink his wine, and look at her almost disinterestedly, then say, “Oh? Is now the time? Very well, I suppose.”

Then she walked THAT outfit. And all of his plans went out the window.

Loki blanched. Keep. Your shit. Together.  

He tried his absolute best. But within a second, the bottom of his wine glass snapped off at the stem, caught between his suddenly rigid fingers. He didn’t even look over - the only sign he realized what happened was a brief look of embarrassment as the base of it shattered on the floor. He sat stock still, now holding a broken glass of wine that he could no longer set down. 


Damn everything to Hel...


Iona watched him carefully, nervously picking at the lace of the gown. 

"Hi..." she said, looking over at the snapped stem of the glass, which now lay on the floor. "Umm... I think your glass broke."

She let out a giggle as he looked down at the glass in his hands, as if silently cursing it to Helheim.


With a flick of his finger, the broken glass on the floor floated up and reattached itself, piece by piece, to the stem. When it was done, he took a sip, placed it on the side table - which also included a second glass and the wine bottle - and walked up to her.

“Iona, you look-” he swallowed hard “-lovely, darling. May I get you a drink?”


"Thank you, husband , you don't look bad yourself, if I may say so," she replied, stepping closer to him. "But I must ask... is it your plan to get me inebriated tonight?"

She brushed a hand to his chest, noticing how his eyes kept straying to her breasts, which were barely covered by the intricate lace. The attention made her nipples taut with anticipation.


My plan is to fuck you to within an inch of your life... a dark voice said in his head. He chuckled and shook it off.

"Of course not. But this is a beautiful vintage - I've been saving it for tonight. I'd be honoured if you'd share it with me."


" Please , I think I've been very thirsty since the morn," she said with a mischievous smile, stepping by to head over to the sofa. She made sure to sway her hips as she went along. 

She had learned all of this flirty nonsense back in her youth, and now, she finally had the chance to use it on a man. On her husband ...


He’d never admit it to her, and he prayed to whatever gods-of-gods were listening that she didn’t see it, but his hands shook as he poured her that glass of wine.

Hands that had remained steady as he had taken the Casket of Ancient Winters and faced the harsh truth of his reality. That never faltered when battling Dark Elves or Frost Giants, or even Thor. Hands that wielded some of the most powerful seidr in the Nine Realms with precision and grace.

They shook for her.

But only for as long as it took to pour her wine. As the glass filled up, he utilized his training methods as a sorcerer to calm and center his mind.

Then, he brought both glasses in his now-steady hands to her, sitting as gracefully as he could manage. He handed the wine to her, then raised his chalice with all the grace and airs of a born royal.

“To us, sweetling.”


"To us," she repeated, then frowned a little. "You call me sweetling ... but I don't have sobriquet for you, Loki. That seems unfair."

She took a sip of the wine, enjoying the burst of flavours on her tongue as she gazed at him expectantly. 

"Help me out a bit... will you? What do you prefer? Love? Honey? Dear heart? My ravisher ?" She tried her best to keep a straight face at the last one.


And he tried his best to keep the wine in his mouth when she said it.

Fortunately, this time he succeeded in preventing an embarrassing gaffe. But he was very close to ending this little charade...her teasing was absolutely maddening . He closed his eyes and took a long, steady breath, regaining his control.

When his eyes opened, they were focused and lusty. Sharp green irises stared at her through hooded lids, and the tell-tale lopsided smirk pulled up the corner of his mouth.

"Perhaps we should try a few out..."


She sipped her wine demurely, noticing the shift in his demeanour as he gave her a decidedly predatory look. She shivered and pressed her thighs together.

Maybe she had pushed him too far?



" Sir ?"

He leaned in, smoothly placing his glass on the side table as he closed the distance between them. 

"Mayhap... your majesty ?"

His forehead touched hers, and his gaze bore into her soul.

"Or how about... DADDY ."


"D-Daddy?" she squeaked, staring into his mesmerizing green eyes. "Is... is that not a Midgardian word for father ?"

The wine glass trembled in her hold, essentially forgotten.


He took the glass from her, with the same panther-like grace he'd shown her before, his long arms easily reaching the table without him needing to move an inch away from her face.

"You like the sound of it."

It wasn't a question.


" Daddy ..." 

She spoke softly, almost a whisper, testing the word on her tongue. It... confused her. Why was it sounding so salacious all of a sudden?

She tilted her head sideways, looking at him uncertainly. "Daddy?"


He would have purred if he'd had the capability. The word made something rumble within him, both predatory and protective. He closed his eyes and stretched his neck, like he was trying it on to see how it fit. Though, to be fair, he'd always known he'd like it.

"Yes, sweetling...and how about I call you baby girl. Do you like that?”

He didn't know where this was coming from - it was likely because of his long period of forced chastity. This wasn't his normal way, but by the Norns did it feel good to say those words.


"Is that supposed to be another sobriquet for me?" she asked, honestly curious about these strange Midgardian terms. "Why does it sound so... so forbidden ?"

She fidgeted a bit in her seat, suddenly feeling too hot. Her eyes lowered then, unable to handle the heat of his gaze.


He lifted her chin, bringing her eyes back to him. “Nothing is forbidden between us anymore. You do something to me, Iona. You infuriate me, you confuse me, you torture me...”

He leaned over further, caging her body on the sofa, nose to nose with her.

“And I love every moment of it.”

His lips met hers, then, and he claimed her mouth deeply, passionately, and with such need that he nearly lost his breath.


She grasped his hair and ran her fingers through it as she kissed him back, the urgency in the moment so palpable, she thought it tangible .

A moan slipped from her lips as his tongue danced alongside hers, tasting of wine and something that was uniquely Loki .

Her legs spread on their own as he insinuated himself between them, growling into her mouth when he pressed against her core.

Heat was radiating from her center, and she was sure that he could feel how aroused she was.


He loved the feel of the lace against his skin. His silk robe began to loosen, and he cradled her head with one hand while his other came down to her breast. He squeezed it generously, rolling her nipple between his fingers and smiling against her mouth when she arched against him.

“There’s my good girl ...”


"Loki... please," she mumbled breathily, trying to gain purchase on the silk of his robe. "T-Take me... Daddy ."

The word, the sobriquet , still felt a bit strange on her tongue, but somehow, she wanted to try it out on him...


“Mmmmmhm,” Loki didn’t know why, but he loved the way that word sounded - so wrong and strange - coming from her, and yet such a perfect fit...with her scared amber eyes looking to him for assurance that he would push her but not break her.

And so he kissed her again, letting his lips silently give her that tender assurance.

He removed the robe without stopping their kiss, leaning his muscled chest against hers, the lace of her lingerie driving him wild. It rubbed against his nipples and they hardened at the unique and pleasurable sensation.

Slowly, he reached between her legs...only to find not a scrap of lacy underwear or any other undergarment covering her. He pulled back from their kiss for just a moment to stare at her incredulously.

“Oh, baby full of surprises...”

Before she could answer, he pushed two fingers inside her and pressed his thumb to her clit, circling with exactly the right amount of pressure.

His body hummed with latent energy that yearned to explode within her at the next possible opportunity.


Iona arched her back as he stoked the fire within her like an expert. Her legs spread further, giving him all the access he needed. 

Her whole body felt so sensitive... the lace rubbing all over, teasing her flesh, making her nearly whine in need. "I... I was advised to remove my underclothes..." she gasped as he touched that secret spot inside her. "A-Are you pleased?"

A part of her was still a bit miffed that he was in so much control, and she was the one who was feeling an utter lack of it now. After weeks of her blatant teasing...  


“My sweet girl, you are the most beautiful, delicious creature I have ever known. Your skin is smoother than the finest silk. Your eyes sparkle like honey in sunlight. And your body turns me into a man possessed.”

He pulled his hand from her quickly, making her cry out, but just as suddenly, he replaced it with his desperate, throbbing cock, thick and full from weeks of agonizing patience and torturous longing. Feeling her walls around him again switched something in his brain...

His pupils blew black as he looked back down at her, a feral and wild expression tainting his sharp features with an animalistic drive.

“Yes, Iona. I am very pleased.”

And then he took her. Hard .

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona whimpered and whined when he thrust into her, taking her in long, hard strokes like the ravishing beast that she had dared to call him as a sobriquet.

Her amber eyes sought his green ones as he pushed her whole body against the sofa with every thrust. But now... his eyes weren't so much green as they were black, rimmed with the thinnest ring of vibrant emerald and completely taken with lust. 

The sight... was almost shocking and scary. Despite sending a shot of erotic thrill through her, making her slicker.

The sofa shook with the power of his movements, pulling a string of 'oofs' from her throat. She tried her best to take it, shivering as he kept brushing repeatedly against her pleasure points. 

Oh, but his thrusts were also becoming nearly brutal, sure to bruise her if he didn't slow down a bit.

"Loki! D-Daddy ..." she moaned, clutching at his arms, squeezing them in her desperation. " Husband... please s-slow...down."

Her legs wrapped around his hips and tried to hold him captive, but Norns, he was near unstoppable.


Loki was feeling somewhat feverish, encased as he was in the hot, wet heat of his wife. She was trying to hold him inside her, and yet he was still moving, still pushing his cock into her despite her protests.

Lust was part of it, but it wasn’t the only thing pushing him to possess her as such. Some powerful instinct had come to the fore, pushing him to prove his prowess as a lover, to show her that only he could claim her like this…

He was growling deep in his chest, a sound very unlike him - the civil him, that is. He was entranced by this feeling… so much that, at first, he couldn’t even hear her pleading.

Only when her voice grew frantic did he take notice...

Though his visage never lost the sheen of madness and uncontrollable lust, his expression softened slightly.

His pace evened out, taking longer, steady strokes in and out of her. Less of a gorging and more of an indulgence, but with the same fiery energy. Slowed, but not at all stopped.

“Yes, of course, little one. Whatever you desire. Tell me what you crave, and it will be yours. My beautiful queen...”

She was his, and he would give her anything she wanted. Tonight. Every night. For eternity…

His own thoughts shocked him. He didn't know where they were coming from, but they were ringing true in his head.


"Oh Norns," Iona moaned, this time with unbridled desire as his strokes touched her just right, bringing her closer and closer to her release. She moved with him, matching his rhythm, making it her own...

Her hands left his arms and caressed his chest and abdomen in a reverent manner. She was filled with wonder at his chiselled body - lean and muscular, and so beautiful. 

He was dangerous, that much she knew... but he was also utterly disarming.

"T-Take me, husband," she said with a tremor in her voice, staring right into his eyes as she brushed her thumbs over his nipples. An intense blush came over her whole face as she spoke the next words to him in an almost whisper. "I might fight you, but please, make me your wanton whore. I’m yours… only yours ..."

It was a ridiculous confession, considering what he had compelled her to say in the throne room only a few months ago. But… somehow, this had become a play of words between both of them, and she loved the idea of playing a tug-of-war with him to see who might make the other say them.


Only yours…

The words resonated through him like a vibrating tone. Yes, only his. And her saying those words… 'wanton whore’... it only made him want her more.

Without removing himself from her, he wrapped his arms around her body and lifted her from the couch. He used his invading cock to hold her up, practically resting her on it as he took them to the bed.

The movement of walking with her still clenched around him triggered another bestial urge, one that threatened to undo him and turn him into a raging madman. But then he looked forward, saw her soft, wanton face, and he was able to keep just the slightest amount of control.

He set her on the bed with a slow, deep thrust.


She was gripping his shoulders hard as he carried her to the bed. Each step pushed him inside her, making her involuntarily tighten around him.

Never once did he take his manhood out of her. And once abed, he thrust deep, all the while possessing her with his penetrating gaze.

She tried to move with him, but he simply pinned her down on the bed with his body and forced her hands beside her head.


Loki’s head swam with the potent sensations of having Iona - his wife, his queen, HIS - open and taking him into her hot pussy. It was wet, slick with her need... for him.

Possessive and protective urges continued to pulse through him, along with the almost insatiable need to make her scream his name. He kept up the slow but unrelenting pace, watching every beautiful, desperate expression that crossed her face - so innocent and inexperienced and overwhelmed by what he did to her.

He hardly blinked, taking in the view with an almost obsessive need, and he brought his hand down to her clit again, this time rolling her glistening pearl between his fingers and pulling gently as he pushed in and out of her.


Iona shook as he toyed with her swollen nub, stroking and pulling and driving her insane with desire...

Small, keening sounds came from her throat, desperate and needy. She wanted more, but at the same time, didn't know what exactly more was.

"Please," she sobbed, wanting to move to alleviate the sensation of being so full. His girth was stretching her so obscenely. 

Loki didn't let her move as he held her captive beneath his body, torturing her slowly, driving her to lust-filled madness.

Oh, in a way this was more wicked than how he took her in the throne room...


“Are you ready?” His voice sounded almost otherworldly, disconnected. He was so lost in her, and the feelings she made him experience...both the physical and the emotional. 

Grinding at that same unyielding, slow pace, he felt like he could go for hours, indulging in her sweet sounds and tight body.


Iona nodded, her mouth parting open as she panted in need.

Why was he going at such a leisurely pace? She had asked him to slow down, but not this much. This was most frustrating.


He began to speed up. Slowly, at first, but after each thrust, the next came more quickly. And the next. And the next. And the next.

He bent over her and took her head in his hand, still fondling her with the other, but using the position to increase his speed and keep her where he needed her to be.

And he needed her now. Badly.

Another few moments, and he was rutting her like a beast, grunting, staring into her eyes and watching her come apart in his arms, drinking in the sweet music of her impassioned cries and feeling his heart thunder in his chest.

Suddenly, the hours he felt he had earlier became seconds...


Iona was staring into her husband's eyes in a daze. Her own amber ones were glassy and tear-stained. 

He was putting her through so much... she was unable to take it, and hence, she was sobbing and crying as she came, still trapped in his hypnotic gaze.

He kept rutting into her throughout it, intensifying the sensations tenfold. All she could do was writhe and shriek his name, helpless in his iron-like hold.

When he finally began to throb inside her, he growled and thrust so deep that she thought he'd break her.


He held his forehead to hers as he came, holding her for dear life as WEEKS of waiting finally paid off. The release was SO intense, he felt his legs shake and his body strain as his seed exploded into her, again, and again.

There was a small, funny thought in the back of his mind that, were he not inside her, the mess he’d need to clean up would be impressive… then he realized he may have judged too quickly.

His spend filled her completely, and soon was spilling out of her and onto the sheets of the bed. It dripped down his thighs and over his balls, and STILL, he was not done spurting into her squelching, dripping pussy.

With a shuddering groan, when at last he was spent, he held himself in her, feeling both of them shake like leaves on an autumn tree.


Iona's eyes fluttered close as she experienced yet another orgasm the moment Loki began to spill inside her. Her voice was weak now, after crying out for so long.

All she could do was shiver in sexual surrender as her husband marked her with his seed.

When all was over, she tried to catch her breath and regain some of her sanity. Her hands slowly slipped into his hair, enjoying its softness as he lay atop her. Without a deliberate thought, she started massaging his scalp.


In the after-sex haze, he panted in relief and satisfaction. He tried to move, tried to stand...nothing happened. So, he relaxed on top of her, still inside her, reveling in the warmth of her channel around his spent manhood.

Then...he felt her fingers moving through his hair, her nails scraping along his scalp, and he keened at the sensation, practically whimpering at how good it felt. He nuzzled his head against her hand, his body still buzzing and overstimulated.

He tried to form words, to check in with her, but his thoughts were mist in a storm. The only thing his mind could register of the outside world was the heat of her body against his and her fingers running through his raven locks.


Her eyelids felt droopy soon enough, the exhaustion of the day catching up with her. She felt the different aches beginning to manifest in her body, but this time, she welcomed them.

"Loki..." she said softly, her voice scratchy and feeble. "We need to clean up, I think... we made a mess."

She felt wet and sticky, and yet, Loki was still resting inside her, not making any move to pull out...


“Mmmmm-mmm nooo…” was all he could respond with. Her fingers in his hair and the general exhaustion hadn’t released their hold on his mind and body. He felt like he was quickly dissolving to jelly.

And he was in no rush to remove himself from the heated sheath around his cock.

His sense of smell seemed heightened as well, and the alluring floral scents of her hair kept him in an inundated state, content in his happy bubble of bliss.


Iona sighed and wiggled under him, gasping as more of his seed dripped out of her. The sensation was a bit ticklish, and it only increased her squirming. Involuntarily, her inner walls squeezed around his length.

Instead of massaging, she now pulled at his hair. "Loki, please..."


Loki furrowed his brow and groaned like a stubborn child, eyes still closed. He was regressing, it seemed.

He was just able to pull enough thoughts together to draw seidr, and with a quick and sloppy incantation, he cast a cleaning spell between them. The mess evaporated from them...but he stayed inside her.

“Better?” he mumbled into the crook of her neck, the sound muffled by her skin and hair.


"Mmhmm," she hummed, greatly relieved to not be feeling sticky and wet. "Thank you… Daddy ."

She resumed massaging his scalp, deciding that she'd keep at it till she fell asleep. 

She wanted to ask him why he wasn't pulling out of her, but somehow, having him weigh her down was sort of a pleasure in itself. She blushed as she pictured it in her head - him lying atop her with his manhood deep inside her, falling asleep like that.

It was a strange intimacy...


His only response was a dark chuckle, and within minutes, the most peaceful, deep sleep of his life overtook him.


Iona woke up to the sun shining bright... right into her face. She squinted and tried to turn away from it, cursing the person who had pulled the curtains of her bedroom open. 

Except... this wasn't her old bedroom, and the person she was cursing was most likely her husband.

Her eyes snapped open suddenly, and she tried to sit up in the bed - a picture of utter gracelessness. Well, she was a morning person, but only when her body wasn't feeling as though it had been dragged through wilds of Vanaheim. 

That's exactly how she felt right now, for Loki's sexual attentions had tested certain limits of her body. The sweet ache between her legs was a testament to that.

She blushed as she remembered it all, sitting in the middle of his humongous bed... all bare and bedraggled. 

Loki wasn't in bed, and that made her curious. Just as she was thinking about going in search of him, he stepped into the bedroom, fully dressed and ready for the day. Norns, he looked so very handsome in that leather and armour combination...

She bit her lip as she drank in the view that he presented, her eyes roving over his form repeatedly. Was it too much to hope that he wouldn't notice?


Loki adjusted his vambrace as he returned to his - their - chambers, ensuring it was fastened correctly so it wouldn’t twist throughout the day. His mind was churning, considering what duties he would need to tackle first, when movement on his - their - bed caught his eye. He glanced up, seeing Iona sitting in a messy pile of his - their - blankets and blinking sleepily at him.

Norns, all this sharing they’d be doing going forward was going to take some getting used to.

He smiled and approached her, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Good morning, darling. Sleep well?”


Iona smiled shyly, her eyes downcast. This sudden burst of affection from him was... making her feel all funny in her stomach. It was strange and unexpected, for she hadn't known him like this at all...

"I don't really remember falling asleep. Did you sleep well?" She finally looked up and met his gaze, the blush returning to her cheeks as he tried to smooth the mess of her hair. "And why are you up and about at this hour?"


“I remember still being fully hilted inside you when I drifted off, yes...” He smirked as the light blush in her cheeks turned brick red, and he sat down on the bed next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her close, careful not to press her delicate skin too roughly against the metallic reinforcements on his surcoat.

“Then I slept quite well.  And I’m usually up and about at this hour. I have duties to attend to - I’m the Allfather, after all. Or had you forgotten?”


"No, I didn't forget," she murmured, trying her best to not turn any redder. When he mentioned being inside her... damnit, her cheeks felt like they had caught fire. "I thought that you deserved some rest on the following morn to your wedding. Everyone needs some time off from their duties, or else they become quite dull."


He laughed at that, then kissed the top of her head and stood. “Of all the things you need worry about with me, I believe ‘becoming dull’ is far down that proverbial list, sweetling.”

He grabbed a pastry from the tray of breakfast he had brought in before she woke and polished it off with a few quick bites. “Besides, I have worked too hard, too recently, to achieve this venerable position, and it would be unwise to rest on my laurels as of yet. I’ve been King for less than a year, and my transition has been tumultuous at best. My priority has to be establishing myself and my alliances as quickly as possible. Then, perhaps in a century or so, my rulership will be stable enough so that I may consider taking some time for relaxation.”

He brought the tray to her so she could select something to eat, watching her eyes calculatingly. “Don’t you agree? It’s why I had us married so quickly - to further solidify my position.”


She selected a shortbread from the array. It was a half-hearted attempt, at best. 

"I understand." She took a little bite of it and then sighed. He was right, indeed. "So, do you have many such engagements today? Will you not attend the morning after feast? It is an age old tradition that the newly weds attend the feast together."


He sighed, leaving the tray on his... their ...bed and taking a few steps away from it. He could already tell where this was going.

“Unfortunately, dear, I must meet with the Vanir nobles before they depart - they are my closest allies and even that relationship is tenuous. It’s the only opportunity I’ll have to see them all personally, and if I declined the invitation...”

He could feel her eyes boring furiously into him, even as his back was to her. Oh Norns...she was taking this badly...


Iona's forehead creased in suppressed annoyance as she considered his words. "So... you'll just leave me alone to handle it all? I mean, it's not that I cannot handle it, but it will look very strange and unseemly. People will gossip..."

She dearly wished that people didn't gossip, but they did. Especially the nobles of Asgard.

Norns only knew how she'd navigate it all without his presence. It would be painfully obvious that attending the wedding celebrations weren’t his priority. That would reflect badly on their newly forged marriage and may even fuel the rumours that it was a marriage of convenience.

"At least come with me to the feast and say a word or two about why you must leave early...?"


“I...we are scheduled to meet before the morning after feast begins. In just a few more minutes, in fact...”

He turned to face her again and opened his arms, giving his best and most persuasive smile. “And you’ll do marvelously, darling. My mother will be there, as will Thor. They will certainly keep you company in my absence. And you’re an expert at navigating these social situations - it’s the main reason I chose you to be my wife.”

He’d meant it to be a compliment, but the fury and consternation that she now expressed made him feel like it may not have come off that way...


Iona pushed the tray of food away, feeling as though her appetite had been murdered. 

"Of course, it was easy to forget that in all these crazed months leading up to the wedding." It was easy to forget it when you were holding me so amorously...

She felt her face heat up again. Though this time, it wasn't driven by self-consciousness or shyness. 

She rose from the bed and donned her flimsy nightgown again. With as much grace and temperance as she could muster, she marched towards the bathroom, not giving him a second glance. "Then I shall attend to my duties. Wouldn't want to disappoint you or make you second-guess about your choice of wife."


“Iona...” Loki whined. “You know that’s not what I meant.” Norns, this is NOT how he wanted this morning to go. He followed her into the bathroom, arms still open in a negotiatory, pleading manner.

“I’m just doing what is required of me! Don’t you think I’d prefer to be enjoying my wedding breakfast? With you?”


She started running a bath for herself, pretty much turning her back on him. She didn't want to face him. Didn't want to let him see how upset she was. 

On one had, she understood that a king had important duties to attend to... but on the other hand, this was her morning after feast, the only one she'd get in her lifetime (lest things headed towards Helheim), and her husband had just pulled out of it as if it meant nothing to him.

"Aren't you getting late for that all important meeting, sire? The Vanir nobles will be cross if you keep them waiting, that much even I know."


Loki sighed with just the hint of a frustrated growl. “Look, darling. I’ll make it up to you. Somehow. But please don’t be upset. You’ll have so much on your plate soon, you’ll understand.”

He approached her to try and give her a kiss on the cheek, but she turned her shoulder and spurned his advances. He felt that very familiar mix of anger and guilt begin to emotion that was somewhat new, yet more prevalent since he’d been engaged to Iona.

“Fine,” he said softly. “I’ll see you this evening, when we bid our guests farewell. I hope that by then you’ll realize how childish you’re being.”

Before she could stab him with some hurtful retort, he left and headed for the council chambers, very much NOT in the mood to be the Allfather right now.

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Frigga's/Thor's/Loki's POV (respectively)

Normal Text = Iona's POV

When Iona emerged from her royal chambers, bedecked in a golden dress and sparkling adornments, she didn't let anyone suspect that she had cried in her bath. 

How childish of her indeed... to just have some simple hopes and wishes, and then have them trampled upon. 

Well, she was expected to act like a poised, graceful lady. A Queen . And thus, here she was, presenting herself at the morning after feast, appearing unperturbed at the conspicuous absence of her husband, the Allfather.

She greeted everyone with a genial smile, even the ones who made pointed comments about Loki not being present at such an important feast. This was her duty, and she didn't want to fail at it, lest she be accused of being incompetent along with being childish. 

At least the queen mother gave her understanding looks. She even tried to steer the conversation away from Loki and his indecorous absence. But it was nigh impossible to do so, as this was his morning after feast as well, not just Iona's.


Frigga surveyed the gathered guests, not blind to their hushed conversations and guarded glances. She sat tall, hands resting regally in her lap, her new daughter-in-law to her right and her eldest son to her left. She’d asked that the King’s chair be removed once she’d learned he would be unable to attend, and while there was no longer a painfully obvious vacant seat at the head table, the sense of absence pervaded the hall.

Thor ate quietly, all too aware of how unusual and uncomfortable it was, and not as socially adept at handling these kinds of things as his brother. Frigga kept him in the corner of her eye, trying to stay alert to any potential disturbances that might come from him. But he’d been silent since the feast began - a rather noticeable difference from his usual demeanor at feasts. It spoke to the awkwardness of the moment...but it wasn’t a crisis, simply a mood.

Iona, on the other hand, had been talking genially with everyone who approached to congratulate her and her absent husband on yesterday’s wedding. Frigga was quite proud of how she was handling this - in all their years together, Iona was always one to put on a brave face and soldier forth.

It was a relief to know that her precocious youngest son was tied to such a strong-willed partner.

But the strain of it wasn’t completely hidden to the Queen Mother - Iona’s smile looked somewhat forced, and her words did not flow as easily as they might were she relaxed. She also had hardly eaten any of her food.

Frigga leaned over to whisper once Iona’s most recent well-wisher took their leave, hoping to lighten the mood.

“So...did you like the outfit I selected for your wedding night?”


Iona was glad that she wasn't eating or drinking anything right then, for she'd have choked on it. The question, asked so plainly, set her thoughts ablaze. And with warring emotions. 

"I did," she answered in a whisper, still keeping a wooden smile on her face. "Your son liked it as well, perhaps even more so than me."

She knew that she was being cheeky, but what could she do? She needed to focus on something amusing. Otherwise, her internal struggles were threatening to overflow, considering the veiled jibes she had had to endure in the two hours or so.


“Yes, well, I’m certain it was a similar reaction to when Odin saw me in it on our wedding night, rest his soul. I thought it would be an appropriate homage.”

Frigga primly picked up her teacup and took a sip while Iona composed herself following that tidbit of information.


Dear Norns.. . Iona wondered how Loki would react to that bit of information. Might just burn the nightgown down to dust...

She kept a straight face in response, knowing that Frigga had lobbed her attempts of cheekiness back at her. Well, she had been her mentor for so long... she was far better at these verbal tricks than her. 

"I'm certain that His Majesty will be quite pleased to learn about it." She picked at the delicacies on her plate, still not feeling up to eating much. "Well, at least when he gets the time for it."


Frigga sighed knowingly, and she gently placed her hand on Iona’s in a gesture of comfort. “A king’s duties do not necessarily respect a well-planned schedule, dear. Did you know that Odin was four hours late to our wedding? He was negotiating a treaty on Muspelheim when the discussion turned pun intended...” She laughed a bit at herself, impressed with her own wordsmithing. “We were wed with him bedecked in singed hair and a missing eyebrow.”

She smiled, remembering. “He was already an established ruler at that time. And I wasn’t his first wife. Though I like to think I was the best one.”

Then her gaze fell on Iona, a calm expression gracing her ethereal features. “Despite their differences, I do believe Loki respected Odin’s abilities as a sovereign, if not as a father. One does not maintain the position of Allfather for over 4000 years without mastering the intricacies of diplomacy and politics.”


Iona nodded, biting her lip to keep her expression even. "You indeed were his best wife, for you brought up two rambunctious sons with ease, and handled the kingdom alongside him. You were his strength in many ways; he didn’t rule alone. And neither should Loki be required to do so. I’ll try to support him as best as I can. If I’m able to replicate your strength and temperance even by half, I’d consider myself an accomplished queen."

As the feast finally began to wind down, Iona breathed a sigh of relief. It was over now. She could go back to the royal chambers and hide away for a while; hopefully, take a little nap. They always improved her mood.

"I recognize the responsibilities of a sovereign, queen mother," she said finally, once she was left alone with Frigga. "I'm sorry if I appeared cross or moody. I'll try to be better."


“Dear, your reaction is justified. But among the many powers you will gain as Allmother, unwavering patience will be your greatest. That, and a keen sense of humor. I’m certain you will be a wonderful Queen to Asgard and to my son.”

With that, she kissed Iona on both cheeks and took her hands. “Now, go relax. I’m certain you’re tired after last night.”


Iona nodded and gathered her skirts to leave the feasting hall. However, she was stopped in her tracks by the burly form of her brother-in-law. 

"Your highness." She almost began to bow to him, only remembering in the last moment that she wasn't supposed to anymore. She was the queen now. 

She really needed that nap...

Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Prince Thor, it's so good to have you here again. We couldn't really interact much this time around, my prince. Would you like to try again?"


“Please...Iona...your majesty...” Thor’s voice was gruff and gravely, and his red-rimmed eyes belied a severe malady.

He was, in fact, incredibly hungover from the wedding feast the night before. He squinted in the the NORNS, all he wanted to do was crawl back into his bed for the next century.

“I am very happy for you and my brother, Iona. However...I must be...”

Suddenly he turned a bit green, and without another parting word, he rushed off to the restrooms, leaving Iona alone in the hall.


Iona just stared after Thor, disgust marking her features as she saw where he was headed. Really, she expected better behaviour from him, considering how he was once the would-be Allfather. 

At least, thus far, she hadn't seen Loki become this inebriated. He had never been the one to overindulge. 

Shaking her head at Thor's irresponsible actions, she walked back to the royal wing, dismissing her handmaidens politely. She simply wished to be alone...

However, upon entering the shared royal chambers, she realized that she wasn't going to be alone. She heard someone puttering around in an adjoining room to the sitting room. Most likely Loki's study room.

Was it a housekeeper? Perhaps it was... 

She couldn't just dismiss the housekeepers and cleaners like she had dismissed her handmaidens. They needed to do their job...

Sighing to herself, she went straight to the bedroom, hoping to avoid whoever was there so that she'd not have to act the part of a poised queen.


Loki puttered around his study, having just returned from his meeting. While the Vanir nobles had been cordial, it was obvious that their interests remained in the agreement that Odin had established before his passing - that is, that Vanaheim would be Asgard’s primary ally, and would have its needs upheld over the other realms.

Which was a problem, given that the same agreement had been made with the Alfans. Apparently, Odin had been playing both sides, utilizing their distrust of each other to benefit Asgard above all else.

Frankly, Loki was impressed with the statecraft, and that Odin had maintained the ruse for as long as he had. But now the fallout of it landed on him...and it would have to be carefully handled.

Suffice to say, he was frustrated, and angry, and resentful that he was missing his wedding celebrations because of something Odin had done. Even in death, the old man was still meddling in his affairs. Typical ...

He headed into the bathroom and turned on the bath, ready to wash this situation from his mind and body, and hoping Iona would forgive him for this and whatever other slights he would need to make against her in order to conduct the business of the Allfather.


In the dressing room, Iona was taking her over-dress and adornments off with slow, disinterested movements. Suddenly, her ears perked up to the sound of running water. 


Curious, she donned a robe and went to the bathroom, finding the door unlocked. Peeking inside, she was surprised to find Loki in there.

With her hands on her hips, she stepped into the bathroom and glared at him. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked without any sort of greeting. She wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.


“These are my chambers. Where else should I be?”

He was already half undressed when she had so rudely interrupted him. Norns, this combination of guilt and fury he felt in her presence was both confounding and irritating.


" Do keep your sarcasm in check, your majesty," she snapped. "I meant, why are you back so early? Weren't you going to be busy till... what, midnight?"

Her tone was so sharp that she felt like it would cut off all the tapestry in the rooms. But she didn't care. He had called her childish and petty for caring about certain postnuptial ceremonies. And she had endured a whole two and a half hours of veiled insinuations towards their supposed farce of a marriage during the morning after feast. 

She had lost all of her grace and patience now... she wasn't going to take any more patronizing remarks from him.


“I’m back at exactly the time I meant to be back,” he said flatly as he continued undressing. “Lo and behold, the King of Asgard makes his own decisions, despite what the new Queen might believe. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d quite like to enjoy some peace before I’m needed at my next engagement.”

His words were cutting, but he didn’t care. He already felt guilty for missing the breakfast, and he didn’t need his wife nagging him about it any further.

He didn’t even look at her as he removed the last of his clothing and stepped into the warm water, hoping he’d offended her enough that she might leave him alone for a while. They’d be together for the rest of their lives, after all.


Her glare intensified upon hearing his scathing words. 

"Of course, I’m the one ruining your peace... even though you left me all alone to the feast where everyone was trying to pick apart the fact that our marriage is nothing but a charade." 

He simply rolled his eyes at her and sank further into the bath. Norns, she felt so damn incensed at his attitude towards her!

Within a few seconds, and before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed some of the intensely perfumed bath oils that she knew irritated him and dumped their entire contents into his bath. To further annoy him, she added a whole bottle of an exfoliator to the mix.

"Enjoy that peaceful bath now!"


As she poured the overly pungent oils into the water, Loki’s hand grabbed her wrist, and he stared daggers at her. Of all the immature, rude, vindictive things... now she insisted on ruining his bath, as well as making him feel even more awful about this morning?!

“What in the NINE REALMS is wrong with you, woman?!” His voice was a growling whisper, and his eyes burned with fury. “You dare behave this way with your King?”

He faltered just slightly...hearing Odin’s tone in his voice. But he brushed it off, as his rage overtook all other emotions.


"I DARE, as I'm the QUEEN," she retorted, trying to pull her hand away from his grip. It was tightening almost painfully now. "If you cannot behave like a true king, I'm not required to be civil with you."


That did it.

With one strong tug, he tipped her off balance pulled her into the water, fully clothed. The sight of all that fabric floating around her did give him some satisfaction, given how much she adored her luxury clothing and how this dress was likely now completely ruined.

“Fine. Then I guess I won’t behave like a true king, given that you are acting like a complete brat !”


She screamed and splashed around as her dress and robe and jewelry, all got soaked in the bath mix. 

"Loki! My dress! Willa is going to scream!" She tried to get out and off the massive tub, but the soaked clothes became a dead weight for her, pulling her further into the water. "Let me go!"


He simply leaned back and crossed his legs, putting his hands behind his head.

“Oh stop. You deserved that.”


That's when she finally found her footing in the water. She then rose on her knees and opened the stays of her dress somehow. 

As the fabric loosened, she tried to pull it off her. Loki simply laughed at her struggles. 

"You're the worst husband in the history of Asgard!" she growled, finally pulling the heavy fabric off her shoulders. "Also, I'm sure you'd be thrilled to know that the nightgown you took me in last night? IT WAS FRIGGA’S! She wore it on her wedding night with Odin! Do what you want with that little bit of knowledge, you cad!"


That made him laugh even harder.

“WAS it now? Oh my...she must really like you after all! Imagine if she knew what WE had done while you wore that skimpy, lacy little thing. Actually...she might already, being a witch.”

He knew she was trying to get a rise out of him, but frankly, the view of her flopping around ungracefully like a drowned cat in the tub was improving his mood rather quickly. And her breasts were beginning to fall out of the top of those soaked stays...

“Need help?” he simpered, not at all making any attempt to offer said help.


"Shut up!" She blushed at his teasing comment. How could he be so infuriatingly cavalier about it? She thought that last night had been something very special... that something had changed between them.

Now, she realized that he was still an absolute ass. Especially to her.

After much fumbling, she finally removed her dress. That gave her the freedom to step out of the bath. That's exactly what she went on to do...


...until he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back in with a splash.

He went fully underwater, holding her naked body against his and keeping her arms and legs from hitting him as she flailed. He could hear her infuriated screaming even under the surface.

It gave him no small amount of satisfaction. Just for fun, he slid his hand between her legs to hold her even more immobile and to enrage her further.


"LOKI!" she yelled. Or tried to, as the water garbled her cries. "What are you doing? Are you insane?!"

She began to panic a bit as they both went underwater. She could hold her breath for a while, as she was an avid swimmer, but she didn't know for how long he could do it. 

And when he started touching her between her legs, she bucked against him and shrieked again.


Oh her struggle was delicious. And he knew he could hold his breath for quite long, possibly longer than she could. So this was promising to be fun.

Adjusting his grip, he cupped one of her breasts in his free hand and pushed two fingers into her channel, further improving his hold on her body. He began pumping her quickly, wanting to make her lose control and orgasm before he even had to come up for air.


Suddenly, her bucking became arching, and the screams of protests gave way to quiet struggles and pleasure. Loki was using his wicked, knowing fingers on her, and she was losing this battle with him.

What was he doing to her? Norns... he was attacking her senses and her intimate parts. She shook her head as he held her tightly and brought her to the edge of completion with sharp, deep strokes. 

A part of her was scared to come apart under water. What if she inhaled?


Loki was working her as fast as possible, touching every place he knew she craved, racing to push her into completion. There was a time limit now, and he’d be so disappointed if he couldn’t accomplish his goal before needing air.

He was rough, letting that frustration and rage translate into his movements, claiming her body as he fondled and teased her, ripping her pleasure from all of her erogenous zones.

It was hard to tell how close she was, but if her thrashing was any indication, it must be soon...


Her eyes began to close as she neared completion. His fingers were working her towards it at a crazed pace. 

There was literally no build-up; it was just a crash. A big one.

Her limbs went limp as the waves of her climax struck her, making it hard to keep her breath in. She wished to still struggle against him, but it was impossible.


He felt her go rigid, and immediately, he pulled both of them to the surface. He drew in a huge breath, then just laughed as Iona panted, her wet cheeks flushing red.

He pulled himself out of the tub - now sporting an impressive erection that he intentionally ignored - and began to dry himself.

“Iona, you are far too easy...” he chuckled darkly, the tone in his voice at the same time judgmental and entertained.


She pulled in lungs full of air repeatedly, trembling against the walls of the tub as her body was still caught in the aftermath of her orgasm. 

Still, his words and his tone did register in her head, and they didn't make her feel any good. 

"You're s-still a cad," she mumbled as he climbed out of the bath.


“Mhm,” he said, wrapping the towel around his waist and walking victoriously into the bedroom, not even sparing her a passing glance. He felt satisfied, justified even. She had started this ridiculous fight, and it was just as well that he had ended it.

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

She pulled herself out of the water somehow, her legs feeling as though they were made of flimsier material than bones and flesh. 

Quietly, she wrapped a towel around herself and headed for the dressing room to retrieve a simple day dress. She didn't want to face Loki again, for he was intentionally being crass with her. She just didn't want to have any kind of interaction with him, for he was sure to use his sexual knowledge against her.

She was so damn tired... of everything . She just wanted to rest and forget about the feast... and Loki's answering rudeness. 

However, she found that he was still there when she entered the bedroom, just sauntering around in that damned towel.

She tried to ignore him as she hurried to the bed, pulled the covers back and literally hiding under the blankets.


Loki narrowed his eyes at her and put his hands on his hips. “Back in bed already? It hasn’t even reached lunchtime yet...” He picked up another pastry leftover from that morning and began eating it, leaning on the back of a nearby chair.

“Just one day as Asgard’s official queen, and you’re already building a reputation for laziness. I had hoped for so much more from you...”

Though his tone was cavalier, his body was thrumming with latent need. Taking her in the bath had been a delight and he longed for more, but he wasn’t about to ask her for it. His pride was much maligned and that was at the forefront of his thoughts, despite his physical condition.


Don't respond to him...


He's trying to bait you into an argument. That's what he does best. Do NOT respond...

She couldn't help it, her naturally argumentative nature took the bait. Pushing the covers away, she sat up and gave him a glare again.

"What more would you have me do, sire? I took care of the morning after feast, I finalized the list of people who would attend the celebrations on the weekend, I dictated and sent out letters of thanks on our behalf for the presents we received, AND I have handled your rudeness since morning. Now, as per your mother's suggestion, I had come back here to rest and recuperate, since the evening will bring even more excitement and joy - of yet another celebratory feast." She gave him a mock grin. "And as usual, I'll be attending it alone, no?"


Ooooh, that fire in her was so arousing. He gave her a look like he would be delighted to eat her alive, made even darker by her shocked and somewhat frightened response.

He grinned, tossing the half-eaten pastry back on the platter and walking to sit on the bed, the erection almost exposing itself from between the folds of his towel.

“I will be in attendance at the farewell feast tonight. And I would expect you to behave, little queen. You think that simply because we are wed you can speak to me this way? I thought we had made so much progress, but apparently, my mercy has had a degrading effect on your desire to maintain proper etiquette towards your lord husband...”


Iona began to pull away from him as he leaned closer. She was planning to leave the bed promptly. He was giving her a look of pure lust and hunger, and she didn't know if she could handle another round of his attentions. 

Especially if he was going to handle her as roughly as he did in the bath...

"Mercy?" She sniffed affectedly, giving him a frosty look as she turned away from him. "I'm not dependent on your mercy . Being your wife doesn't equate to being your slave. I maintain the royal etiquette when I'm in public. And in private, you cannot possibly fault me for calling you an ass when you're, in fact, being an ass."


“In private...” He leaned toward her, the towel unwrapping itself as his body twisted, and by the time he was facing her fully, it lay discarded with the blankets. 

That same feral look stayed on his face, reminiscent of the evening before.

“I can do whatever I want. Must I remind you of your duties towards me as my wife, Iona? It would be remiss of me to allow your unruly behavior to go unchecked, most especially on your first day wed.”


Iona slipped away from the bed and tried to make it to the door.

"I'm not your thrall!" she cried as she ran.

She knew that he'd probably catch her, but she didn't want to make it easy for him.


Of course, he caught her easily, pressing her back against the wall and holding her by the shoulders.

“Yelling at me? Trying to run from me? What in Nine Realms do you hope to accomplish? As of now, I merely find it irritating.” He leaned down close to her face, watching her with almost crazed eyes. He wanted her to fight, wanted her to keep challenging him...he loved it.

“But keep it up, and I’ll have to find some way to correct your conduct, baby girl .”


Her mind reeled at that sobriquet. Was it only last night that he had introduced her to it? It felt so distant suddenly, now that he was all into her face and growing it at her.

"You better not try something unseemly, Loki! I'm warning you, I WILL fight you!" she claimed, pushing at his chest with all her strength.


He didn’t even budge. 

He looked down at her little hands on his bare chest, and he smiled - it wasn’t entirely cruel, but it certainly seemed mocking. “I was counting on it.”

Then he slammed his hand on the wall next to her head, making her jump. She watched him with more fear now than anger.


“Get. On. The bed.”


"Do not order me," she muttered, glaring daggers at him, even though her body shook with nerves. "I told you, I'm your wife, not your pet."

Norns, what was he going to do...?


He grinned at her again, almost as though he were thanking her. And in a way, he was. He was thankful she had just sealed her fate.

Loki bent down and picked her up quickly, throwing her over his shoulder, with her kicking and screaming. Her little hands were now pounding against his back, and it hardly felt like rainfall. He threw her down on the bed and immediately pushed himself between her thighs.

He held her arms down next to her head, trapping her against the mattress.

“Go on, Iona. Fight me.”


"I AM fighting you, you annoying cad!"

She kept trying to release her hands from his hold, struggling and squirming like a fish out of water. Her knees rose up and tried to push into his side, but his damned height was a drawback. 

She let out growls of anger and frustration as she kept trying to twist her body away from him.


This was delicious. He quickly bent down and took her lips with his, giving her a ferocious, possessive kiss, enjoying the feel of her struggle against him. He pressed his naked cock against her center; he could feel how wet she was through her undergarments.

“Do your duty, wife,” he said against her mouth. “Please me.”


Despite her struggles, Iona shivered in pleasure when he spoke against her lips in that deep, gravelly voice of his...

Norns, it was unfair how he could arouse her so easily, even when he was being so insufferable. 

"What about your duty?" she asked, her body becoming still and complacent. She decided to lick his lips and see what he'd do.


He had expected her to scream at him. To curse him, to push him away.

Instead...she licked his lips and made that catty remark. It stopped him for a moment - and he realized that her fear had been completely eclipsed by arousal.

So...she liked it rough. He was learning so many things about his new wife!

With only another crazed smile in response, he pushed aside the thin bit of fabric that covered her slick channel, then pressed the head of his cock against her. The feel of her natural lubrications against his spongy flesh made him shudder, and he began to slide himself slowly in and out of her inviting warmth.


She moaned and arched her back, closing her eyes against the sharp pleasure of his intrusion. Her legs wrapped around his hips and quite literally tried to pull him in. 

This... was not what she had wanted. Was it...?

Her own response to his behaviour surprised her in many ways. She was still mad at him, still wanting to fight him, but the pleasure... it was running like a parallel stream to her anger.

Growling again, she raised a hand and grasped his hair, pulling at it hard as he thrust into her, hoping that it was hurting him.


He took a sharp breath as she grabbed his hair and pulled - that surprising pain shot him full of lust. Again, the utter satisfaction and wild drive he felt as she melted into compliance was so potent, he couldn’t help the moan that escaped his throat.

The sense that she literally couldn’t resist him, even when she was angry, even when she wanted to, just encouraged him to push her further. Driving himself deep inside her, he leaned down, pulling against her grip on his hair.

“Is this all it takes, little Queen? You’re so desperate for my pleasure that you’ll cave the instant I touch you? And here I thought you had some semblance of control over your carnal a truly well-trained lady. But apparently not.”

With that, he roughly grabbed her breast and pinched her nipple between his fingers, laughing at her as she arched again and took him even deeper.


Iona wanted to slap him, to dig her nails into his skin and draw blood. He was such an arrogant brute of a man!

How dare he mock her for feeling pleasure when he was the one who initiated this coupling? He was the desperate one here, not her. She was just... well... responding in the way her body was meant to!

"Just... doing my duty , sire," she ground out as her breath broke with his unrelenting thrusts.


“I’ll bet you can’t even help but come. No control whatsoever, just letting the pleasure take you unabated. Such a desperate, weak little thing...”

He picked up the pace, and as if to prove his point, she let out a long, keening moan.

He knew he was being unnecessarily mean...but he was enjoying it so much the concept of stopping never crossed his mind.


Norns, was he ever going to shut up? All of this talking... mocking... deriding... it was making her furious, pleasure notwithstanding.

"What's even the point of control?" she asked between the seemingly unstoppable moans. "You'll take me either way..."

Might as well get something out of it...


“I only do it because you let me… my wanton whore ...”

He laughed at the fire that burned in her eyes and bore directly into him - he liked her this way. But he was also feeling his own pleasure building...and he wanted to make certain that she came undone before he did.

“Now be a good girl and come for Daddy...” he growled as he took her more roughly than ever before.


She let go of his hair and grabbed his shoulders in her desperation, her sharp cries resounding in the room. 

Her orgasm tore through her despite his roughness. Her body struggled to accept what all he was giving her, and it showed. She shook her head from one side to the other, sobbing, keening, cursing him with gritted teeth as he thrust into her very deliberately, angling himself inside her in a way that pushed her pleasure to the forefront. 

"Damn you... to Helheim... Loki!"


“I...will see you...there!”

He grunted as his own completion hit him like a blow from Mjolnir. He throbbed inside her, letting all that anger and energy and frustration seep out of him with his seed. 

As his breathing evened, his grip became less fierce, and the frenzy in his eyes calmed to the simmering lethargy of afterglow.

He remained sheathed within her for a few moments longer, then he looked down at her, smiled gently, and kissed her forehead in a complete volte-face of attitude.

“Thank you, darling...that was intense. I feel much better now. You?”

Without waiting for an answer, he removed himself from her and began to clean them up, a satiated - though not malicious - smile remaining on his lips.

Though she just stared at him incredulously, he finished the task, then returned to the bed and wrapped his arms around her stiff, confused body. “Dear?”


"W-What?" she asked in a whisper, extremely confused at his behaviour. "What do you want now?"

She thought it apt to ask, since he was blowing hot and cold, acting in ways that had her feeling utterly off-balanced.


He nuzzled into her, enjoying her warmth. He found that his earlier frustration and anger had all but dissipated...strange indeed. Even he was surprised by how much calmer he felt, like all that fury and lust melted away as soon as he reached completion. 

He could empathize with her confusion - he’d never gone from so upset and wild to satisfied and peaceful within such a short period of time. Still, no point in ruining a good thing.

“Nothing, sweetling. Just checking in. That was a bit...energetic, was it not?”


"Too energetic," she mumbled, melting into his embrace despite her misgivings and unresolved ire. 

What was going on? Why was he being this way? His sudden moodiness and unpredictability weren’t good for her mental peace...

"I'm... I'm exhausted. And sore."

She closed her eyes then, the exhaustion getting to her finally.


"Perhaps I can help," he said softly, and he slid his hand between her legs, palming her sensitive nub. He cast the warm healing spell and it glowed with yellow light. "How does that feel?"


She whimpered in relief as the spell washed over her, spreading from her womanhood and going through her limbs. 

"Good...." she replied in a whisper, wiggling in his arms to get more comfortable.


He kissed her temple and settled in beside her, taking a long, deep breath. She felt so good in his arms, he would love to stay with her for the rest of the day. And that heavenly floral scent she wore, mixed with the musky pheromones from their lovemaking - erm - animalistic fucking… it just made his cock twitch with need again.

What had come over him?

He wrapped his leg around hers and pulled her lower half close to his, giving her a full-bodied embrace.


She pulled back a bit to stare at him, uncertainty tainting her gaze. 

“You really think that I’m a lazy, incompetent queen?” she asked softly, keeping the hurt plain on her face so that he knew that she wasn’t jesting or teasing. She meant it. “That I don’t deserve a prior discussion about your schedule?”


Norns, that sadness on her face destroyed him. Why had he been so cruel earlier?

“Of course not, Iona. I’m sorry...I’ve not been myself lately. I had not anticipated that ‘scheduling’ would have been among my first failings as a husband, but I will try to do better. I am unused to sharing a life with someone else, but I will focus on improving my temper...and controlling my tongue. You’ve earned it.”

He squeezed her gently and held her flush against him, greatly enjoying the feel of her skin against his.


She gave him a small smile, caressing his jawline with her knuckles. 

“The old silvertongue can be controlled? I didn’t know…” Giving him a small peck on his lips, she finally settled against his chest. “You’re forgiven, for now. And I’m glad that you’re willing to share your life and your schedule with me.”

Her smile grew as she heard him chuckle in response, the sound reverberating through his chest.


"Excellent. Now I think you should take your nap and rest before the farewell feast. I am needed in the court, but I'll return before we depart for the feast together ."

With that, he reluctantly parted with her and left the bed. He gave her a sly wink, then waved his arm. In a shimmer of gold, he was fully dressed and prepared to see his people.

"Until tonight, sweetling."

With a flourish, he walked out the door.

Then, a few seconds later, he popped his head back in, much to Iona's surprise.

"And…by the way, we'll need to postpone the honeymoon by a month. That was the first thing on my schedule."

Before Iona could respond, he disappeared, leaving her furiously screaming his name as he rushed down the hall to the throne room.

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

The palace was abuzz with activity. The newly-wed royal couple was, at long last, leaving for their honeymoon.

It came a month late, as Loki had so annoyingly informed Iona the day after the wedding, but she was glad that they were finally going to spend some quality time in the foothills of the lake district. She had been looking forward to it. It would be peaceful, away from the hustle and bustle of the Capital; two weeks in a castle situated on the edge of lake Ulfr, surrounded by verdant forest.

However, it was not by a stroke of serendipity that their destination was so secluded. They were expected to spend most of their time together there, trying to conceive an heir. 

Iona breathed a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of that expectation upon her shoulders. She wasn’t too keen on getting with child so early in the marriage, but that was what was expected of a royal couple.

Well, at least Frigga hadn’t put the weight of her expectations on her yet. She had simply urged Iona to enjoy the vacation. That was heartening...

Loki joined her in the large, covered skiff after some delay. She had settled in before him because he had still been busy with handling the kingdom. Thankfully, it would now be in the queen mother's hands, thereby giving him the opportunity to spend more time in his wife’s company. 

"What took you so long, my lord husband?" Iona asked with a touch of annoyance as he sat down beside her. She noticed then that he was carrying a sheaf of papers in his hands, and he was completely engrossed in its contents.

Moreso, one of his personal court attendants brought in a binder full of documents and placed it behind the sofa they were sitting on. He made himself scarce the moment he met Iona’s glare.

Loki had yet to respond to her, and it was only aggravating her annoyance with him.


Loki’s emerald eyes were glued to the documents in his hands as he sat down next to Iona, reading over the last of the legislation that had been proposed regarding Alfheim’s recent discovery of a new leyline on an outlying moon...there were just a few more details to work out before—

“Sorry? What was that?”

He still didn’t look up. Her question grated on his nerves, but that sense of irritation had become almost commonplace over the last month. His moods had been erratic since the wedding - even he had noticed how he would swing from perfectly fine and content to overwhelmingly petulant and back again within seconds of an offending action or word, no matter how benign the infraction. 

He attributed it to stress, having taken on more responsibilities and projects and negotiations since his marriage than he’d had prior; as he’d expected, being wed assured all in the Nine Realms that he was a stable, grounded ruler. And while it had the desired effect of legitimizing his monarchy further, it also meant that more nobles and dignitaries were reaching out to him with their questions and needs.

Which was why he was now trying to finish this trade proposal while boarding the skiff to his honeymoon. He longed to be done with it, but he still felt like he was overlooking something...


Iona turned around to fully to give him a look of disapproval.

"Are you still not done with that legislation?" she asked incredulously, eyeing the batch of paperwork he was carrying with him. "I'm sure the queen mother can handle this."


“Mmmmhm. It’ll be just a few more moments, darling. The queen mother will have plenty else to do, and— oh, now, what in the Norns is that...?”

He waved his hand and materialized a quill pen, and started scratching out lines and writing quickly in his elegant, royally-trained chicken scratch.


Iona just stared at him with narrowed eyes, her ire still very strong.

This was their honeymoon . A delayed honeymoon, but still...

It was supposed to be special, with him showering her with his attention, not with mere scraps of it.

But no, he couldn't leave the kingly job for even two weeks , despite his very experienced and capable mother at the helm of affairs now.

Fuming, Iona turned to face away from him once again, looking out the window as the skiff took off.

It was going to be a tedious, boring journey, with her husband still engrossed in those papers...


After about thirty more minutes, Loki sighed contentedly and magically sent the papers back to his chambers. His mother would take care of the matter from there onwards...

“There we go. Done, sweetling. I’m all yours.” He smirked at her proudly, like he had no idea how displeased she was. In truth, he didn’t; he’d been so absorbed by his work, he was just happy to have completed it.

So...why was she glaring at him?


Iona gave him a haughty, disinterested look after cooling down her glare.

"Oh, don't mind me, I'm completely riveted by the passing scenery," she said in an acerbic tone, turning back towards the window. "You might as well magic yourself back to your court. I swear I wouldn't even notice."


A little flicker of fury burned in his gut at her words. Nothing that would take him over the edge, but just the beginnings of what could, if not quelled, turn into something much more explosive.

“Excuse me? Darling, this is our honeymoon. I’m done now. I completed all the tasks that had to be done in order for us to leave. Now, why are you so upset?”


Iona ignored him, keeping herself turned towards the window. 

He could fume and rant now... after ignoring her for so long, he deserved it.


“Iona?” That little fire grew… “Stop being childish. It was just the last bit of work that needed to be finished, and now it’s done. Would you please turn around and look at me?”

He wasn’t mad...yet. But he was getting there rather quickly...


She finally spared him a glance.

"And what about those documents in that binder behind you? Don't think me a child, your majesty. And don't lie. Maybe I've nearly accepted that this farce of a honeymoon is going to be spent in this vein only."


“Farce of a—!? We’re going to Lake Ulfr for two weeks!” He gestured out the windows, palm up, as if it was so obvious that this honeymoon was going to be incredible and that she should just be able to see it and be grateful. “You knew I would need to do a bit of proofreading while gone, we discussed that!”

Oooh, that fire was starting to rage now. This ungrateful, insolent, indignant little woman was being unfairly condescending. Ruining their vacation before it had even begun with her pouty, sour attitude.

“What has gotten into you, woman?”


"I'm tired of your distracted attention!" she snapped back, huffing at his show of confusion.

She clenched her fists and glared at him.

"Yes, we had agreed about the paperwork, but we had also agreed that you'd not be involved in the paperwork constantly . Don't expect me to be grateful to receive a wee bit of your time. I'm your wife , not some grovelling mistress who'd wait on you and be happy to be just a nightly..." She faltered, feeling self-conscious. "A nightly fuck."



That was it - Loki has lost the battle to contain the raging fire of irritation within him. What in the NINE was WRONG with her?!

“The honeymoon has hardly begun, and you’re already accusing me of paying you so little attention that you might as well be a nightly FUCK?!”

He stopped himself then, concerned that they might be heard by the driver outside the cabin. His voice reduced to a hissed whisper, and he leaned in close to her face.

“I would expect more of you, Allmother .”


She barely kept herself from flinching when he yelled at her.

Norns, he was acting so high and mighty, as if she had only been referring to the here and now .

"I've never ignored my duties as the Allmother! How dare you accuse me so," she hissed back, grabbing a cushion from the plush seat and throwing it at him. "You've been treating me like a nightly fuck this entire month!"

The infuriating man smacked the cushion away like it was a feather.


Loki growled and his hands flew into his hair, pulling his fingers through it in frustration. “I am the KING of Asgard, Iona! I have a responsibility to the TRILLIONS of people in the Nine Realms to ensure that their concerns are heard and resolved. What would you have me do, end court by saying, ‘Well, yes, we’ve not solved the problem of feeding the dislocated children of Jotunheim, BUT MY WIFE DEMANDS MY ATTENTION!’

He was breathing heavily at this point, feeling the bile in the back of his throat. Only she, only Iona, could rile him like this.

His cock twitched.

Fucking Hel...


"Oh I see, I'm the unfair halfwit queen who doesn't understand how a Kingdom works," she growled, fingers digging into another cushion. " I'm the ignorant Allmother who asks her husband to join her for afternoon tea with the visiting dignitaries from Alfheim, only to be embarrassed when he forgets to show up. The diplomatic circles already think me a mere figurehead, all thanks to you ignoring my last three requests. Oh, but you never forget to visit the queen mother on a daily basis, or to fulfill Thor's demands as and when you receive them from Midgard. I'm the only person who has to bear your distraction!"


“IONA!” He roared, partially because he was tired of being talked-back to,  but also because...he couldn’t deny that he’d been putting off her requests in favour of the other responsibilities he carried.

He moved close to her, pulling her into his arms and pushing his fingers into her beautiful - Norns, it was beautiful - red-brown hair.

“Fine. You want my attention. You have it. ALL of it. And I hope you don’t regret your selfish need to keep me for yourself when the rest of the UNIVERSE awaits my decrees.”

Then he kissed her.

But it wasn’t really a kiss. It was a statement. It was a claim. It was a demand that she STOP stabbing holes in his reasoning and let him best her another way.

Essentially, it was admitting defeat.

But he would never have told her that.


Initially, she was too surprised to react. He had moved so quickly to claim her lips - like a striking snake. How she ended end up in his lap, straddling him, she didn’t even know.

But then... she jumped right into it. The attention-starved side of her rejoiced, kissing him back with enthusiasm and fervour. The agitated side of her, though, was feeling very differently about this development. 

It wasn’t hard to see that he was just trying to shut her up.

That realization filled her with absolute fury.

And that's how she ended up biting his lower lip, enough to draw blood.

Oh dear… that wasn't her intent, but now it was done.


Any rational thought was blown to the wind as soon as she bit his lip - the pain and surprise and excitement and pleasure...that switch in his brain turned again.

The switch that he had kept in control for so long...

With a growl, he felt that same uncontrolled animalism take him over. He gripped her hair and held her to his mouth, attacking her with his tongue and lips.

He pushed his now-throbbing cock against her center, every base instinct within him taking over and urging him to take her like the wanton whore that she was. And though, there was a part of him - a distant, small part of him, at this point - that understood that she wasn’t, understood that she was a queen , a fiercely intelligent and driven woman whose ruling abilities could very well match his own...

That part was long forgotten in the heat of the moment.

With a final grunt, he pushed her back so she lost her balance and fell to the floor of the skiff. He stood over her, breathing heavily, coursing with feral energy and very much shedding the royal demeanor he had maintained for the last few weeks.

He licked the blood from his lip.


Iona landed on the carpeted floor with a graceless thud, her limbs spreading as she tried to immediately right herself.

Her dress had flown up too, the folds now resting against her thighs. One of her slippers had also come off.

She stared up at Loki in shock, finding his demeanour quickly shifting. She felt anger and lust roll off him in potent waves.

Still, she was determined to fight him.

"You threw me onto the floor, you absolute oaf," she cried, pushing her leg forward to kick him in the shin.


He avoided her attack with the grace and speed of a trained warrior.

Which, of course, he was .

Shifting his weight quickly, he jumped upon her, spreading her legs, reaching down and freeing himself from his breeches with one hand while supporting himself over her body, caging her.

“And you, pet, DESERVED it...”


"Loki!" she squealed in protest as he ripped her underclothes and lined his hard manhood to her folds. "We can't do it in a skiff! Have some decency!"

At the same time that she made the protests, she felt herself become terribly aroused.


“Decency?!” he growled, stopping his intrusion of her most intimate parts only because of her ridiculous accusation. “ what point, in ANY of our interactions together, have you EVER thought that my CONCERN...”

He couldn’t help it. He laughed. It was a dark, sinful, unnerving laugh, but his amusement at her insinuation was uncontainable. 

“You appeal to my decency ?!”

He forced himself into her, right there on the floor of the skiff, still chuckling at her choice of words.

“Ohhhh my dear,” he said as his eyes closed in ecstasy at having his cock inside her. “We released forbearance to decency long DIRTY...”

He pulled back and thrust into her again.


Again, with more force.

“WANTON whore...”

He pushed himself fully inside her, holding her there, impaled on his skin-splitting cock.


Iona's skin was thrumming with lust, her legs were thrown wide, and her hands were half attacking, half clutching Loki's head.

His words, Norns, his dirty, filthy words... why did always affect her so?

She tried to slap him as he thrust deep inside her and just...kept grinding himself into her without pulling out. It made her gasp and tremble.


Her little hands kept beating him, making equally little slapping sounds against his muscles.

Was she...was she trying to fight him?!

The delight and hilarity of it drove him on. Every time she hit him, he thrust into her with renewed vigor. Again, and again, and again...

“Iona,” he laughed, though the carnal lust had not dissipated in the least. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish?”


"Slapping this smugness off your--" She yelped as he roughly pulled down the bodice of her dress, rupturing its stays and linings. "Dammit, Loki!"

She pulled the bodice back up, just to block him from accessing her breasts. And to spite him.

"You're an animal!"


And he pulled it right back down again, licking the tops of her breasts salaciously while his eyes never left hers. And he gave her another hard thrust for good measure.

“Never denied it, sweetling. You like it...”

Oh NORNS, he wanted to fuck her into silence...


She slapped him again, moaning as the hard thrust made her clench around him.

She was so close...

But if she came so soon, she'd only prove his point.

"I hate you and your infuriating face!" she cried as he bit and sucked her nipples till they reddened, never relenting on his movements inside her.


A very deep noise rumbled from his chest.

“You love my face...” he said, his lips still on her breasts and his cock still spreading her wide. He felt her walls fluttering around him. Ohhhh, he had her.

He thrust into her again, angling himself to press firmly against her g-spot, and he bit down on her nipple just hard enough to be sure that he had her attention.


She shrieked, probably loud enough to make the steerer hear, as an orgasm suddenly tore through her.

She wailed a string of 'Nos' as Loki kept taking her in punishing strokes, biting her poor nipples till they were sensitive to even a draft of wind.

"You bastard!" She sobbed, wrapping her legs around his waist, her other slipper also falling away.

Just when she was about to catch her breath, he renewed the assault, making her come again, against her wishes.


He felt her slicken against him, and his black eyes held barely a halo of green.

He was so close to coming that his scrotum was contacting, but he forced himself to hold out. He needed her to fall apart repeatedly, to succumb to his will and lose herself to the pleasure he gave her. To claim her, to breed her, to—

BREED her?! —

Suddenly, he let loose inside her, his legs twitching and his eyes closing. He shuddered through the orgasm, and all the rage and anger and frustration went with it.


Iona could barely think straight , inundated as she was with the orgasms as he rutted into her, let alone speak .

Unable to articulate anything, she simply groaned and sighed, looking up at him with surrendered, pleading eyes.


He practically collapsed on her, then rolled off to the side and wrapped an arm around her waist. His other hand twisted a strand of her fragrant hair, and his breathing evened.


She nuzzled his neck as they lay on the soft carpet, waiting for her breathing to calm down.

She was embarrassed at what had just happened. Still, she couldn't forget some of the unkind things he had said. She didn’t want this to become a pattern between them, so she decided to address them.

"You called me selfish," she mumbled into his skin, still hiding her face. "I only wanted a bit of your time, and your undivided attention."


“This has nothing to do with the small amount of time I took to finish my business today, does it?” he said quietly, his mind finally connecting the dots. “You’re worried that when I prioritize other things over your needs, it means I don’t want to spend time with you. It scares you, it makes you feel vulnerable and unprotected. And now, every time I’m with you but not giving you all of my attention, you believe it justifies your fears. Is that right?”

He kept stroking her hair and staring up at the roof of the skiff, enjoying the feel of her warm body on his.


"I...." She blinked, shaken at his accurate assessment. It made her feel even more vulnerable. "Yes."

Her arm reached up and curled around him, trying to press him closer to her.

"Just... if your interest in me wanes, if you start to seek solace somewhere else, I want to know about it first. From you. So I can... prepare myself."


Loki’s eyebrows peaked - so that was it.

“Darling,” he said, adjusting himself so he could look at her. “You’re worried about me leaving you...on our honeymoon ? We’ve barely begun this journey together. And I chose you for a reason, sweetling.”


She bit her lip as she looked into his beautiful eyes, feeling her face heat up.

"Because I can keep your secrets? And I know the proper courtly behaviour?" she asked with a frown. "I... I... it's just that I've heard about your appetites ... about your past lovers... I don't know if I can satisfy you."


“I chose you because you were the only one who treated me like a person after I was sent to the dungeons. All the others saw me as a spectacle, a monster in a showcase.”

His breath froze in his chest with the admission. It was strange - inherently, he’d always known it, but never expressed it, assuming she would understand… but saying it out loud felt like opening a box that could now never be shut. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I love your sharp tongue, and the way you squint your eyes when I say something unseemly. Your duties may have been a chore to you, but your visits to my cell were bright spots in an otherwise endlessly boring eternity. I other visitors. Even my mother could only come in secret using magic.”

He sighed, swallowing hard, trying his best to dispel the sudden discomfort he felt upon sharing all this with her.

“No one else spoke to me. No one else even acknowledged me. But came with a fire of life - even when you mocked me and tried to hurt me with your words. At least it was something to make me feel ...I was still alive . I was still me .”

When his eyes opened, they sparkled. “So yes, you can keep my secrets. You can behave like royalty, as you were raised to do. But I love your fight, Iona. You make me feel alive. And not alone.”

He gave her a soft smile. “And as for my ‘sexual appetites’...I wouldn’t worry about not satisfying me. You’ve done quite well so far.” And he winked.


She blushed again when he winked at her, letting out a small giggle.

"Really Daddy?" she asked, biting his chin. "Is that why you've been corrupting my innocent soul with your filthy words and salacious actions?"

Even though she was teasing him again, her heart soared in her chest. It did funny flips when he said that she had been a bright spot in his life while he was imprisoned.


Before he could stop himself, he tapped on her nose with his index finger. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can only corrupt those who want to be corrupted, little one,”

Just then...the door to their cabin opened, with the driver popping his head in. “Your majesties, we’ll be arriving in five minutes,” he announced.

He found them fully dressed, seated comfortably where they had sat when they first boarded.

“Thank you,” said Loki. “The trip was most enjoyable.” He gave Iona a sidelong glance and a smile.


Iona was startled, but from the impish look on Loki's face, she assumed that he had just used his magic to cover them up. 

Another giggle escaped her as she smacked him on his arm after the steerer was gone. 

"You and your magic. Always one step ahead." 

He laughed and rose from the floor, picking her up with one hand.

She looked down at her red and swollen nipples, biting her lip as she touched them tentatively. She whimpered, looking over at Loki a bit accusingly.

"Look what you've done to me."


“Look what I’ve done to you, indeed.” He grinned like a cat, then went about mending her clothes by sliding his hands up her body, tracing seidr along with it. When he was done, he gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “There you go. Just as perfect as when you boarded.”

Through the windows, he saw the castle they would call home for the next two weeks, sitting majestically on the shores of Lake Ulfr.

“Worry not, Iona. We’ll have plenty more time for me to corrupt you once we’re settled in...”

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona woke up pretty early in the morning, much before the sky started lightening. She looked over at Loki, who was still deeply asleep, sprawled over on his stomach, taking up more than half of their bed. His soft snores were being muffled by the pillows. 

He was naked, obviously, with the sheets only halfway covering his ass. His perfectly sculpted ass...

Seeing him like this, she was dearly tempted to do something very bad and naughty to him. Like, maybe, slap his bare skin, or tickle him.

But... she knew that he had been dead tired by all the paperwork... annoyed even, snapping at the servants for little things and just being a grouch in general. They had been intimate only a handful of times after arriving at the castle. The lack of intimacy was indeed due to the paperwork, and the problems they pertained to seemed to be growing worse each day. 

He had shared his troubles with her recently, and she had him her support and understanding. As much as it frustrated her that their honeymoon was not going as per plans, she couldn't begrudge her husband for wanting to take care of the kingdom. She was simply relieved that he was involving her in it instead of ignoring her, discussing the matters at hand and taking her suggestions.

Trouble was brewing in the Capital. As soon as their honeymoon had begun, the nobles who had been anti-Loki right from the beginning of his rule started forming cliques of their own, trying to consolidate their power and influence. Frigga was able to handle most of them, but a few matters grew a bit too complicated, with Asgard’s trade getting mixed up in the built-up mistrust against Loki.

Huginn and Muninn - formerly Odin’s ravens, now Loki’s - brought scroll after scroll, hour after hour… and he looked more and more displeased with each visit, which in return made his temper flare further. Somehow, he kept himself in check when he was around her, but she could feel the tension and ire always rolling off him like a torrential waterfall.

Hence, she let him rest whenever he could… never asking for more than he could give of himself. She wanted to be his strength and support, not his liability.

Sighing to herself, she left Loki to his much needed sleep and slipped out of the bed as quietly as she could. 

Looking out the window, she found herself eyeing the clear blue waters of Lake Ulfr. It would be a lovely time to take a dip in there, and mayhap, go for a long swim. She hadn't stretched her limbs with a good swim in a long time, and she was drawn to the deep waters of the lake.

In no time at all, she donned her bathing suit and robe, and then quietly headed out of the castle. She was planning to enjoy a long, satisfying swim in the lake, confident that she'd return well before Loki would awaken., please...

Loki’s brow furrowed, still asleep. He tossed on the bed, blankets falling to the floor.

Ice...a frozen eyes approaching from the horizon...

I’m not one of you! he screamed at them. Leave me be!

Still, they came closer. Flurries of snow burst from the ground where they stepped. They were slow, but unstoppable. Loki tried to run, tried to draw his seidr, tried to do anything he could to escape - he put his hands up, grabbing his daggers, ready to fight...

His hands were blue. His arms were blue...suddenly he could see himself from outside himself - hideous, marked, nude and manifesting ice from his fingers. His red eyes went wide as the giants reached him.

He screamed.

Loki bolted up in the bed, sweat clinging to his forehead and hair wildly strewn about. He looked around, terrified. It was still dark outside, with the sky just beginning to grey on the horizon. He was alone.

His chest contracted as he realized Iona was missing.

“...Iona?” His voice was small and weak. He felt exposed, like a nerve. Feverish and chilled at the same time. Where WAS she?!



Iona was kicking the water happily, enjoying the swim immensely. She had always been a natural at it, right from childhood. The water was pleasantly tepid, and it caressed her skin soothingly as she glided through it.

As she completed the round of the whole lake, she wondered if she could perhaps have Loki join her one day. Mayhap he'd like it, and it might just make him feel better. Relax him even.

Suddenly, the thought of swimming naked with Loki popped in her head, and she smiled impishly. That would certainly be interesting...

As she swam closer to the castle, she noticed movement at their bedroom’s balcony, which faced the lake.

It was the pale form of her husband… and he looked utterly distraught. Concerned, she immediately got out of the water and grabbed her robe. Putting it on, she headed back into the castle.

When she reached their bedroom door a few minutes later, she was unable to push it open. 

"Loki?" she called, knocking on the door, hearing crashing noises coming from inside. "Loki please open the door!"

The crashing noises only increased in volume.


He was breathing heavily, growling. He threw another vase against a wall, and roared as it shattered, the broken porcelain falling to the icy snow…

What in the NORNS was happening to him?!

His body was on FIRE, his mind raced, he felt like he might burst out of his own skin...then, he heard the knocking on the door. And Iona’s voice....

She was calling his name.

The fire receded...and changed... mate...

A rumbling growl forced itself from his lips. He wanted to scream at her, tell her to run, that he never wanted to see her again…

And the only stronger instinct he had...was to take bury his cock so deep inside her that she’d carry its imprint upon her forever.

He came to the door and leaned against it...something hard had grown on his head, preventing him from resting it against the door as he would have expected. He couldn’t see why, for he had already broken all the mirrors in the room.

“Iona...” he said...even his voice was not his own. He kept his eyes closed, torn between fear for her safety and his own unbelievably powerful urge to let her in…

Once she’d come in, he’d claim her. As he was meant to do... 

He shook his head violently. Why were all these strange, intrusive thoughts entering his mind?


Suddenly, all the noise died down, and all she heard was panting. Right next to the door.

Why was Loki panting ?

And then she heard him call her name, in a voice that was… different . It was still his voice, but deeper, more gravelly. It caused goosebumps to manifest on her wet skin.

"Loki?" she called again, softer this time, a bit apprehensive. Was he sick? 

But then again, what kind of disease could affect a perfectly healthy, young Asgardian man in his prime?

"Loki, I'm here. Please open the door. Are you unwell?"


His mind was split in two - one side wanted her to run from him as quickly as possible...and one side would never let her get away. But when the irresistible sweet tone of her voice reached his ears, he lost the battle to resist the latter.

Still hunched on the ground, he unlatched the door and slowly opened it...

The room was wrecked. The bed had been shredded to tatters, and all the decorations, mirrors, pieces of art - they looked like a wild animal had destroyed them.

Loki’s head was down, and he was still breathing so hard that his throat was raw...but he couldn’t hide what was happening to him.

Horns. Thick, black, curling horns burst from the top of his skull and wrapped back and around like a ram’s. They were coated in a fine sheen of fresh blood.

With great effort, he looked up at her, his skin even more pale than usual, but...there were markings on him. Intricate patterns of lines and circles adorned his entire naked body. And as soon as his eyes fell on her...he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself...

“Run...” he said weakly, pleading for the last time before his demeanor completely changed.

And his skin flushed blue.


When the door finally opened, she stepped inside and gasped in shock at the sheer destruction of the interiors. What had happened here?

And then her eyes landed on Loki, who was on the floor, on his knees... but he wasn't Loki . At least, not as she knew him.

She gasped again, louder this time. The first thing she noticed was the horns...dark and curling, protruding from his head like an ominous crown. Then the skin--strange whorls and patterns emerging on it. 

When he looked up at her, his eyes were RED. Completely red. Red like demons and pain and suffering, entirely awashed in crimson. In the faint light of the early morn they were aglow like embers.

Iona choked on a breath, covering her mouth as she stared at him in horror. What was happening to him? Had someone laid a curse on him?

But before she could react any further, his skin took on an azure hue. She was familiar with that skin colour, especially coupled with those red eyes.


The monsters of the childhood stories her parents had told... the dreaded creatures of the cold... 

Iona screamed in fright, her voice broken and weak. And then her feet took off on their own, unthinkingly taking her out of the castle and into the adjoining forest.


With his skin color, his demeanor also transformed…growing possessive and beastly.

His mate ran from him. From HIM, her mate. Why was she running? How DARE she run from him!

He stood, slowly, uncurling himself from the floor. His MATE. Was RUNNING .

A sadistic smile stretched across his fanged mouth, his tongue running over the sharp teeth instinctively. If it was a chase she was a chase he would give her.

After letting her get a bit of a head start in the forest, he started after her. He would find her. He would WIN her. He would show her what a proud, masterful, exceptional mate like himself would do for his beloved...

His footsteps left frosted imprints on the forest floor.


Iona was panting, trying to run as fast as she could from the monster that now occupied the castle. She prayed to the Norns that he wouldn't chase her...

Soon, the forest thickened, blocking out the wispy early morning light. The undergrowth slowed her down, with twigs and fallen logs blocking her path here and there. 

She jumped over them, often slipping and nearly falling down. She cursed her bare, wet feet.

Finally, there came a point when she could no longer run. She stopped and tried to catch her breath, leaning against a thick old tree. 

Her brain wasn't functioning properly in her state of shock and fright. She only knew one thing--her husband, Loki, king of Asgard, was a Jotun... 

It was wrong, it was against nature. Against Asgardian values. How could it happen?

She shivered, suddenly realizing that she had let a Jotun claim her intimately. She was married to him.

By the Norns... was this some kind of lucid nightmare? This couldn't possibly be real...


He followed her into the forest a ways, tracking her trail of broken branches and scraps of snagged clothing until the physical evidence of her presence faded in the thick vegetation.

Then he stopped, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.

He could smell her...that heady scent of delicate flowers, pheromones, sweat, and everything that was unique to her…it would lead him to where she hid.

With another fierce smile, he opened his eyes.

“Where are you, my little minx…?” he growled, almost sing-song.

He moved slowly, making no noise in the underbrush, his predatory instincts taking over. He already knew where she was, knew where she had stopped.

For having initiated a chase...she was not especially proficient at evading him. Once he had her, he would train her. If she longed to be a chased rabbit, he would make her the fastest, most able rabbit in the Nine Realms. He would do anything for his beautiful, perfect mate.

But he had to catch her first.


Iona hugged herself as she tried to think... think about what to do next. 

Could she somehow run back to Asgard? If she did, then what? What would she achieve?

Loki was already the legitimately crowned king. She couldn't just... go into the court and scream about him being a Jotun. He'd probably have her head upon his return...

Would the queen mother help her if she told her?

Her eyes widened as she noted that the queen mother probably already knew. She had brought up Loki since his infancy... she was a sorceress too, a very gifted one... she had to know. She was in on this secret...

A low sob escaped Iona then, as she realized that she was completely helpless and alone in her predicament. What exactly could she do now?

Run away? Where to? There was literally no place she could go to to hide from him. He ruled the Nine Realms and had the all-seeing Heimdall at his beck and call; he’d easily find her and drag her back kicking and screaming.

From all angles, her situation looked utterly bleak and hopeless…

She was married to Jotun…

Norns, her whole world had turned upside down. As far as she was concerned, the Uphiminn was tilting and the Yggdrasil was on fire...

She was too lost in her frenzied thoughts to realize that she was no longer alone in this patch of the forest...


The ground began to frost around her as he approached from behind, slowly, crouched, eyes locked on his prey...

My mate. My Iona. MINE... The words took over every thought as he approached, her smell becoming stronger, his urge to claim her blossoming into insatiability. He came up behind her, so, so close...and growled in her ear, deep, menacing, and victorious.

“I win .”

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

“I win .”


Iona let out a startled scream as Loki spoke right into her ear. Jumping away from him, she thought to take off again, to try and run to evade him. However, before she could run, the whole patch of woods was encased in icicles, caging her in the grove.

She looked around frantically, her eyes full of terror as she realized that she was trapped.

"Wha-" She turned around and looked at him with panic, her chest contracting in a sob. Norns, was he even taller now? "What are you doing?! "


He made a noise that was both a growl and a purr as he stood to his full height and walked to her.

So small and delicate and lovely. He cherished everything about her - her beautiful mahogany hair, her honey-colored eyes wet with tears, the way her brow furrowed and her lips puckered in fear. His head tilted to the side as he took her in...even in her terrorized state, he wanted her more than any creature or person he’d ever known. She was made for him, part of his very soul. They were bound together... his Iona, his mate.

“You ran. I chased you. And now I’ve caught you...” He closed his eyes and rolled his neck, feeling the taught muscles stretch and contract in his shoulders. He was powerful, excellent mate for her. Why was she behaving so strangely?

He took the final step towards her, reaching for her cheek...


Iona squeaked and tried to move away as he reached for her. However, her feet landed on ice - the ice he had made, and she slipped.

Much to her surprise, he caught her before she fell down and hit her head on one of the fallen logs. Involuntarily, her arms wrapped around his torso, even though her eyes still looked up at him with shock and terror.


He stared into her eyes, searching, confused. Why did she fear him? She was his mate!

“ slipped...” It sounded dull and obvious coming from his lips. But he was touching her, and the contact with her skin made him tingle... everywhere . He was still completely nude, his only adornment his natural markings, and he had no way to hide the physical manifestation of how he felt about her. Just that sight alone should have drawn her to him, eyes hooded, ready to give her body and soul to him. She should have been crawling to him in desperation, not running, not slipping and nearly injuring herself.

Perhaps...he had not impressed her as much as he’d thought...

“What do you wish of me, my love?...I am powerful. I am strong. I am the mightiest king in the universe. And I am yours. You ran, and I chased you, as you wanted. I played your game...what more must I do?”


Iona trembled in his arms, nearly losing her consciousness with the adrenaline coursing through her body.

When he began to talk, in that deep, gravelly voice... she felt it vibrate in her chest. She frowned... unable to understand why he was stating all these things to her.

"What... What are you?" she asked stupidly, her voice weak and broken as tears flowed down her eyes. "H-How?"

If anything, his hold on her tightened, lifting her feet off the ground. It was reminiscent of the way he had handled her in the throne room that fateful day. And even though it filled her with fear and apprehension all over again, her confusing, traitorous body began responding to his proximity.


THAT was strange. What are you? How?  

Her questions confused him, though her body still seemed to be reacting in the way it was supposed to. That, at least, was good.

“I am yours, your mate. And you are mine. Is this another of your games, Iona? What must I do to prove myself to you and have you take me?”


Iona looked at him in confusion, her eyes still wet. It felt like this was Loki... but without the awareness that he was Loki, the Asgardian .

"Loki… no games," she mumbled feebly, "I can't... I don't understand... how are you Jotun? I-I can't be with a Jotun. I'm... I'm Asgardian ..."

With that, she began to struggle to get out of his arms.


He felt her struggle. He didn’t let her go. She did not understand him yet. She would.

“Iona, what had I told you that day in that fitting chamber… when I showed you myself as a woman?”


She stopped struggling for a moment, blinking as she remembered what he had said... what she had said...

"Y-You... you’re still yourself… even in that feminine form?"


“Yes. I am still myself...even like this...” The memories of his Asgardian form were all still there, but they now seemed to be filtered by his Jotun perspective, his different physiology, and the strange, almost uncontrollable urge to couple with her. He did not know why he changed...though now that it was done, he was no longer afraid of it.

I’m still me... he thought to himself... and she is still Iona...

“Mmmm baby girl.... ” he growled, grinning as he eyed her hungrily. “I am still your husband, still your king, your lover, your protector...your Daddy ...”

A good portion of the leaves on the trees around them suddenly went black with frost and fell to the forest floor.


Iona swallowed hard as she stared into his crimson eyes, caught in them like a lamb ensnared in the paws of a wolf.

When he spoke those words... they seemed to resonate in her soul. She closed her eyes and shivered, a strange kind of heat washing over her.

While she was still very afraid, she found herself getting wet as well. 

"D-Don't hurt me," she whispered, clutching his forearms, her legs still dangling in the air.


He put his forehead to hers and never broke their eye contact. “I would never...I would kill anyone who would do you harm. I would rip them to pieces and send their viscera across the Nine Realms...”

He began to lower them both to the ground, being so gentle with her, but the fire and passion in his eyes made it clear he was a powerful beast, intent on making her his.

“I would protect you from all enemies, Iona. Fight them all until armies fell at your feet.”

He turned her so her back rested against his chest, then set her on her knees in the leaves and dirt of the forest, facing away from him. His hands grabbed the tattered remains of her robe and bathing suit, and he ripped every shred of fabric from her gorgeous body in one swift, strong movement.

He leaned down and growled softly in her ear. “For you, Iona, I would conquer the universe and present it to you on my knees.”


Norns, his words were hypnotic. Promises... so many promises. Not that she wanted all of that from him... but these promises were spoken like gifts in her ear.

She was suddenly finding herself enthralled, despite her inherent fear of the Jotuns. 

This one... this one in particular was promising to never hurt her. She wanted to believe that. Some hidden part of her did believe that.

When he placed her on the ground and tore all her clothes away, she whimpered but remained submissive. Something in her subconscious compelled her to listen to him, to be open to whatever he did to her.

Was this some kind of magic at play? She didn't know... but slowly, she was surrendering herself to him.


He felt her resistance waning, felt her relaxing into him, accepting him. His heart began to thunder...she was his mate, she was going to take him. A strange combination of carnal joy and pride filled his body. Slowly, he brought his hands to her breasts.

They felt small in his grasp, but her skin felt like fire - heat that he could never resist radiated from her perfect, beautiful body. His blue tones contrasted with the almost milk-white of her bosom, like snow and sky.

He began to kiss and nip at her neck while he fondled her, feeling her begin to tremble...but this time not from fear. His cock found itself between her legs, resting at the mouth of her arousal...and the heat that came from her, that dripped from her onto his eager sword longing for a was maddening .

His head swam with desire.

“You are mine , Iona. Mine forever and always. I will never leave will never be Iona...”


She breathed heavily as he nudged right at her entrance, though didn't push inside yet. She felt her body molding to his, just as the lips of her sex kissed his tip. The sensation of it was strange... for it was cool and marked like the rest of his body.

Her eyes fluttered, losing their focus as he spoke against her ear again, his lips brushing against her lobe. 

His words were possessive and intense, and almost dark in their intent. They made her shiver all over again in a strange blend of lust and fear.


He gently pushed her forward onto her hands and knees, caging her with his body. Reaching down, he aligned himself with her, yearning to press into her slick folds...but instinct made him wait. He needed her to accept him before they bonded, before he could truly call himself her one and only mate.

“Iona...will you take me?”


She arched her back and spread her legs, her hands digging into the dirt. 

"Y-Yes..." she spoke breathily, her lips trembling.


With a satisfied growl, he pushed inside her. He moved slowly, reveling in the feel of her sweet channel - clenching and stretching around him, each inch of her velveteen heat driving him mad.

He repeated her name over and over, like a prayer, like a song...



She let out a long moan as he entered her, feeling so different and yet, still Loki . Her Loki...

Her body rocked in rhythm to his, accepting him fully inside her. His body, larger than his Asgardian one, fully covered hers as he thrust into her repeatedly, taking her name in a way that had her opening her legs wider for him.

"Loki... " she moaned, pushing back at him, now fully immersed in the mating.


He adjusted himself, bringing his knees between hers and lifting her to sit spread-legged across his kneeling lap, still facing away from him. He put one strong arm across her chest and brought her up so her head could rest on him, and began lifting and grinding her hips onto him.

The way her body responded, moved with him, molded with felt right, she was made for him and him alone.

And now that she had taken him...his animal lust began to mount...he began to quicken his pace.


Iona began to moan shamelessly then, as he all but bounced her body on his manhood, handling her like she weighed nothing, like she was a paper doll.

The ridges on his hard flesh caught and rubbed against her sensitive channel, filling her with new, breathtaking sensations.

Her hands reached up, wanting to grab something as his pace increased. They found his horns... the dark, curling, textured horns. She grabbed them tightly, liking the way he shivered in response to that.


He shuddered with pleasure when she touched his horns, another purr-like growl escaping his lips. He was rutting into her, feral and instinctive - all of it feeling RIGHT and GOOD, exactly as they were supposed to be.

He felt himself coiling with the pleasure, starting to lose himself again in that blissful haze of being with Iona. No matter what form he was in, that never changed.

“Are you close, sweetling?” he growled her sobriquet. “We must finish together...”


"Yes," she cried out, holding his horns tighter in her grip, grinding herself on him. 

She knew that she'd most likely end up bruised and tender afterwards, but right now, chasing her pleasure and becoming one with him was all that she cared for.

As the first ripples of her orgasm tore through her, she shuddered and scratched his horns, her body urging him to spill inside her and mark her with his seed.

"M-My king... come with me!"


Having her hands on his horns, feeling her scorching body, and moving to her rhythm brought him close, so close that he swore he would die if he didn’t finish soon...

Then she uttered those words. Yes, My King... And it undid him.

He howled, a bestial, possessive, territorial roar that shook the trees and scattered all the birds and wildlife around them. It echoed across the mountains, for all to hear that he and his mate were one.

Then he pressed himself into the heat of her as deeply as he could, and burst inside her tiny body, shooting his seed into her womb, claiming her as his own, making a thousand silent promises to protect her and never leave her, to cherish her for the rest of his days...

And it began to snow in the forest around them.

He kept spurting and spilling inside her till his spend drizzled from her trembling body, right onto his thighs.

And through their mating, she never did let go of his horns...


Iona's breath was coming in soft pants, her body was still joined with Loki, and her heart wasn't calming down.

Loki held her against him, breathing into her neck while his seed still pumped inside her. There was a low rumble coming from his chest, like a purr, that she could feel right into her heart and her pussy.

Her body shivered, feeling the cold around them intensify as snow began to fall.

"L-Loki?" she whispered. "Snow?"


Loki opened his eyes and looked around at the gently falling snowflakes. He looked about as surprised as she was.

“That’s...unusual.” he chuckled softly. “We must be a truly special pairing...even the ice blesses our union...” Then he stopped and thought for a moment - something he hadn’t done since his transformation - and said, much more like the Asgardian Loki, “Or it could be that my seidr is differently controlled in this form...”

He noticed that he was shrinking, just slightly. And his skin wasn’t as deep a shade of blue as it had been before.

While he hardly felt the cold, he sensed her trembling was changing to honest shivers. “Come my darling...let me warm you...”

He gently lifted her from him, then stood and wrapped his arms around her, humming a soft tune that sounded ancient and lovely. While they stood, his markings faded, his horns shrunk and receded, and he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, breathing hot air onto her skin and casting his seidr about them to create a warm spot.


She shivered as warmth surrounded her, all thanks to him. 

Leaning against him, she stretched her legs a bit, wincing as her aches began to manifest themselves.

Slowly, she turned around to face him, looking up into his still crimson eyes. 

"W-What happens now?" she asked softly, just as he wrapped his arms around her again.


He looked back at her, and a soft smile crossed his lips - he no longer had the fangs. As he decided how to respond, the crimson faded from his eyes, and his irises returned to their translucent green.

“Honestly, Iona...I haven’t the foggiest idea.” he chuckled again, but there was a touch of melancholy to it. “THAT has never happened before...and frankly I’ll need to do some research once we return, about what exactly it was.”

With a soft sigh of remorse, he mumbled into her hair. “I suppose you now know another secret of mine. Though, I wish I could have shared it with you in a less...terrifying way.”

Then, with a gentle kiss on her cheek, he led them back toward the castle, keeping the warm bubble of air around them as they found their way through the forest.

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona gazed at Loki from her perch at the window seat in their new bedroom overlooking Lake Ulfr, drinking tea and nibbling on fruit bread. He was pretending to read more paperwork.

They had arrived back at the castle looking all normal and perfectly clothed, while the servants had just about started the day.

Of course, they had to tell them that the room had been destroyed by a wild beast. The servants had looked at the couple doubtfully, but hadn't questioned them.

Iona didn't know what they thought had happened… that wasn't at the forefront of her worries, her husband was.

She bit her lip and tried to straighten her back as she spoke, ready to draw his attention to her and away from the documents he was holding. "Loki, come here and have your breakfast first. And please, tell me about the... about your other form. I need to know what happened."


Loki had been avoiding the discussion since they had returned. He kept the papers in front of him, kept moving his eyes, but he wasn’t reading...

He was in a whirlwind of confusion and anger and fear and worry. He had some theories about what it was, but he’d never expected THAT side of himself to appear so... suddenly . He had only ever seen it himself when he used the Casket of Ancient Winters, and he had never even tried to revert back since...

Well, that was all behind him now. 

He stopped the charade of reading, put the papers down, and closed his eyes before taking a deep breath and joining her at the window seat.

“I...was King Laufey’s firstborn. But, I was small - too small for the Jotuns. They abandoned me in a temple. Odin discovered me and permanently changed my form, then raised me as a...son.” The word was difficult to say, considering how Odin had treated him throughout his life. “I learned about my true parentage only a few years ago.”

He kept his eyes closed, and his voice shook as he spoke, despite his attempt to sound disaffected.

"It was quite the experience, discovering that I belonged to the race that was Asgard's sworn enemy."

What an understatement that was...


She gaped at him, her tea and bread suddenly forgotten.

"So... you're royalty on two different realms? That's..." She blinked, completely flummoxed by this revelation. "That's incredible . So... this means that everyone in the royal family knows, including the queen?"

Iona still couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension when it came to the Jotuns. Things that were taught to her since her childhood were hard to unlearn so quickly. However, she chose to remain mum about that, lest it affect Loki badly - he’d been raised with the same prejudices, after all... 

She wanted him to talk to her about it, to share all that he knew. As his wife, it was her duty to share his burdens and ease his troubled mind. 


“Mother has known from the beginning, but Thor only found out when—,” he sighed again. “When he returned from his banishment on Midgard. So yes, I am both King of Asgard and the rightful king of Jotunheim...not that I want the latter. Even after I killed a Laufey, I-"

Suddenly, his eyes opened wide and he stared at her, not believing what he had just admitted out loud.


Iona gasped at his revelation.

"I... I thought he died on Jotunheim," she whispered, looking at Loki in absolute shock. “The Jotuns that had infiltrated Asgard… his body wasn’t among them.”

Norns, she didn't know what else to say... Loki had killed his own father? How… ?

She shook her head, pretending to not be so affected, pretending that she wasn’t horrified by the patricide he had committed. Her thoughts were confused and scattered all over the place, though.

Laufey and the other Jotuns had abandoned Loki as a baby. A most cruel action by far... so perhaps it was apt that he died by Loki's hand...?

She focused her attention back on her husband, ignoring the tumult in her mind. He looked so distraught and haunted, not to mention, horrified

"Loki..." Slowly, she leaned over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "He had abandoned you. I'm certain he deserved it. He wasn’t known to be a reasonable or good king either. After all, he took his people to war just because he wanted to expand his realm’s influence..."

She stopped there, conscious of the fact that before turning peaceful, Odin had not been any better.


“I...I told him the secret way into Asgard so he could attempt to kill the Allfather while he was in Odinsleep...” The words came spilling out; he could not stop them. He’d kept this secret for so long, and he’d never spoken about it. All his secrets seemed to belong to her now...

He shuddered and looked at her pleadingly. “I tricked him into coming here...and I shot him in the back with the Gungnir, turning him into vapour . Iona, I am not to be pitied...I have done unforgivable things. I forced you to marry me. I...” He looked away again, trembling with shame.

“I truly am a monster...both in form and in deeds.” Then, with a heavy, fortifying breath, he looked at her again. “But being a monster made me a king...and you a queen.”


Iona ran a hand through his hair, feeling him tremble. She gave him a small smile, trying to be supportive and soothing.

"It's not a new thing for me to see that you're cunning and ruthless, Loki," she said quietly, scooting over to plant herself on his lap. 

He seemed shocked by her actions, but watched her silently, a storm brewing in his eyes.

"Indeed, we're here because you compelled me... but I can't say that I hate the outcome. I'm just surprised, you know, to learn about your Jotun heritage. We were always taught to hate them, I'm sure that it has had a great impact on you, on why you see yourself in a negative light."

She bit her lip nervously as she tried to articulate her feelings on the matter. 

"I won't say that your Jotun form doesn't bother me. It does ... It's unsettling, because I'm not used to it. Honestly, a part of me is still scared of it, but another part of me has... well..." She blushed, feeling terribly exposed. "It now associates your Jotun traits with carnal pleasure. So, I think it's safe to say that I'm fine being your wife and queen, I'm not pitying you."


Loki was stunned. His eyes just locked onto her, the cacophony in his mind overwhelming...Norns, he would have expected anything except what she had just said.

It’s not a new thing for me to see that you’re cunning and ruthless...

I can’t say that I hate the outcome...

I’m fine with being your wife and queen, I’m not pitying you...

It occurred to him that he might hate himself more than she did. For the second time since he’d chosen her to be his queen, she’d bested his silvertongue.

“ How is it that you are so... accepting of this? Of me?” He searched her face, looking for the lie he swore had to be had to…

There wasn’t any. Her expression was open and earnest, if a little bashful.


She chuckled at his confusion, feeling her heart skip a beat as his eyes seemed to bore into her soul.

"I was raised by ruthless parents, so, admittedly, I understand better now why you did what you did. We sometimes have to make things work, accept things as they are."

She lowered her eyes then, unable to hold his intense gaze. Her hand wove into his dark locks again, seeking comfort.

"I'm still trying to adjust to you, if I may say so. It's not easy keeping up with you, but you've given me so much more than what I had been expecting from this life. If you see yourself as a monster, then I'm the monster's bride, and I'm not put off by that in the least. Not after we… after what happened in the forest."

Her blush deepened as she recalled their strange interaction … followed by the intense, almost hypnotic lovemaking.


He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand as she ran her fingertips along his scalp...the gesture both familiar and thrilling. He loved how her hands were drawn to his hair - such a simple, intimate gesture, but one that held so much weight in his heart that it pounded at her touch.

“Where did you come from...?” he asked softly, mostly to himself out of disbelief. “I...I’ve never been able to be this... honest with anyone. Without them...turning away.”

His green eyes opened, and he gazed - half-lovingly, half-desperately - into her gorgeous amber irises. “I don’t know why you do this for me, Iona, but you’re something exceptional. Something I’ve never experienced before and never expected. I’re giving me a chance to open up, and I can’t help myself - I want to share everything with you. Perhaps that’s why...I changed, earlier, in the bedroom.”


Her eyes were back on his face, drawn back as he expressed himself a bit brokenly. She nodded encouragingly, blushing deeper at his words. At his compliments...

"As your wife, it's my divine duty to be open to you. Though, I'm sometimes very prickly and I try to vex you." She smiled self-consciously, fisting his hair in her hands. "Also, I didn't respond all that well to your transformation, if you recall. I ran away from you in fright. I-I'm still learning to be a proper wife... and I'm very glad that you feel free enough to share things with me. But Loki, I don't think that your transformation was an act of sharing ... you were speaking, acting in such a different manner, it was all so strange."


“I still feel strange...” he admitted, tucking a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear. “Like I’m charged with energy, and with the right ignition it will explode...”

He took her hand in his, then brought it up to his forehead, pressing her palm against his skin. His eyes closed in pleasure at the soothing, warm contact. “I was so scared...I didn’t know where you were - I thought you...I thought you’d left. I thought you’d come to your senses and run away, and suddenly I needed to find you. I had to get you back...because...”

He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on her wrist, his eyes opening, gaze shifting to her. “Because I realized I love you, Iona. And something just... happened . I snapped, and I couldn’t get the control back. And then you were at the door...” He swallowed hard. “And I didn’t know what I was going to do to you...”


Her eyes widened at his confession of love. She was utterly unprepared for it.

Her hands trembled, and she clenched them into fists to stop it. Could she say it back to him with all her honesty?

"I... I suppose we discovered what you were poised to do to me," she said with a nervous laugh, her heart stuttering. "You were like a rutting bilgesnipe, husband. Though, much gentler ..."

She pressed her lips to his then, letting her body language express what she was too nervous to say out loud as yet. She hoped that he’d feel it. That he’d accept it as such.


He smiled against her lips. He would give that word to her freely, without expectation of return, for as long as she needed. After what he had put her through in the last few months -  Norns , in the last few hours - he could expect nothing more. The fact that she accepted him - all of him, that she was still open to him, was nothing short of a miracle.

Returning the kiss, he slipped his tongue between her lips in a gentle, yet passionate way. Much unlike any way he’d kissed her before - there was no dominance, no pretense, no urge to move along to something more...though he certainly looked forward to that .

He pulled his lips from hers for a brief moment, only to say, “And who’d have known that the prim, proper, perfect Queen Iona had a penchant for such rutting...” His voice was playful and teasing, and before she could respond he went right back to kissing her...


She grasped his head and returned the kiss, feeling her insides melting at the tenderness.

She hadn't expected this from him, at all. Especially considering how he had told her about his decision to marry her all those months ago...

He was still a dominant person, she knew that. And she was still too headstrong to be fully under his command. But having an honestly affectionate moment like this, where he shed that dominance and she shed her prickliness, felt incredible.

"Mmmm... Loki," she murmured, pulling her lips away from his sensual ones after a few minutes, her breathing uneven. "I was... I had a thought. It's a bit silly, but the ‘ rutting bilgesnipe ’ analogy gave me a thought."


Loki’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “ certainly have my attention.” He grinned and leaned forward, brushing the tip of her nose with his. “What did you have in mind, my little minx?”


She giggled at his suggestiveness, but went on with her explanation nonetheless.

"Well, I was thinking... that bilgesnipes have rutting seasons." She turned a shade of pink again as she tried to express her thoughts clearly. The topic was so... sensitive and strange. "So... so, I'm thinking... do Jotuns have such seasons too? What if what you experienced was just that manifesting itself?"


He stopped momentarily, needing a second more than usual to process her words...because his thoughts were entirely elsewhere . With a sheepish grin, he laughed softly, then rested his forehead on hers. “It’s a good thought. I’ll have to look more into it once we return and I have access to the royal library. IF I have time when we return...”

His demeanor darkened slightly. “I swear the royal court and traders will be the death of me - I just got word that the merchants are demanding additional access to the leyline on Alfheim’s moon, but it will break a treaty with the Vanir and Alfans if we allow the access. So both sides are now asking for me - only ME, on my honeymoon, no less - to decide how to resolve the issue...and I’m certain that it will only get more complicated going forward...”

He sighed, then looked back up at her, obviously penitent for the change of mood. “Sorry, my love, it has been a trying day so far, and I fear I’ve ruined the moment.”


She looked at him assessingly, her thoughts focused on finding a solution to the problem he had just mentioned.

"Don't apologise, husband, I'm sure my insides are still a bit tender from our morning jaunt." She kissed him again, chaste and sweet, and then got off his lap. "Come have breakfast now, and I'll tell you what I'm thinking of doing to those merchants. Do they happen to have a cartel of sorts? We could think about planting the seed of infighting and chaos there. That would distract their greedy minds for a while."


“Excuse me?”

He stood and followed her to the breakfast table, looking surprised and confused. “What exactly do you mean, Iona? This is a political matter, not a social one...and their interests are aligned economically. And for that matter...what do YOU know about instigating infighting and chaos in the royal court...?”


"I've been at the court, serving the queen since I was a gangly adolescent girl," she replied, buttering the fruit bread to offer it to him. “I have observed my fare share of economic and political battles in there.”

He sat down beside her, taking a bite as he watched her shrewdly.

"Anyhow, I think you should plant a few fake merchants in their cartel and tell them to influence others to act in your favour. Also, send in the spies to find out if any of the cartel leaders are involved in illegal economic practices as per the Asgardian law. They most certainly are... so when you do find out about it, you know what to do with that knowledge."

She gave him a knowing smile as she got up and rang the servants for more tea.


“I see,” he said, eyes narrowing at her as he took another bite. “Well, as I spent a year in the dungeons prior to my kingship, I’m a bit low in trusted allies...and I certainly don’t have the time to try and find them myself...”

Then, he had a thought, just a hint, but his eyes might be worth asking...

“You...wouldn’t happen to be privy to anyone who might be willing to...aid us in this endeavor, would you, sweetling?” He made himself sound overly-casual, but his heart was racing. He hadn’t played politics with and ally in quite some time, and he’d always known she was adept at handling social situations. Now, he was also starting to understand how ruthless and sharp she was in politics and court dynamics...and frankly, it excited him.


Iona waved the servants away and poured the tea for him herself. She grinned at him as she handed him the cup.

"You might be in luck, husband. I'll send a raven and arrange a meeting here, in the castle, after the servants leave for the night. Having a few friends involved in spying is quite fortuitous."


He took the cup from her and sipped the fragrant warm liquid, taking just a moment to enjoy the feel of it and consider this new turn of events. 

“So...” he said after a pause. “You understand the risks involved here, correct? You’re no longer a sheltered and anonymous’re the Queen . All eyes are on you, always. I’m sure you were quite adept at subterfuge in the court before, but you are now at the highest level - there will be a target on your back, Iona, as there has always been on mine. I’m eager to see how you handle this test.”

Then, with another casual glance away, he took another sip of his tea.

“Very eager indeed.”


Iona looked down and began to pick at the folds of her dress. He was right, of course. And she was indeed nervous about this endeavour. Being a Queen, and not just any Queen, the Allmother , was fraught with risks.

However, being the Allmother meant that she had to stand up and face these risks...

"I understand, Loki. But I also want to put an end to this issue. I know that it has been giving you some sleepless nights and stressful days. I suppose all this comes with the territory of being a royal. I'll have to get used to it."

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Despite the strange revelations of Loki’s heritage, discussions of intrigue and subterfuge, and both of their rapidly-changing irritable and insatiable attitudes, the honeymoon continued on rather pleasantly, 

They rode horses to the meadow on the hill overlooking lake Ulfr and ate a picnic lunch under a perfect blue sky. They went swimming in the lake together (in the nude, which of course, led to less swimming and more... alternate activities). They shared a candlelit dinner on the balcony of their room almost every night. It should have been an ideal vacation...

Except for the merchants and nobles. Raven after raven arrived each day, bringing letters from all interested parties, begging, asking, or demanding that the King address the issue of Alfheim’s leyline. Loki’s days and evenings were consumed by the reports. However, the only raven he cared about arrived that morning, from Frigga.

He had told her about his transformation and what had happened afterwards. And, being the consummate mother that she was, she had researched the issue and sent word back.

“Hello Loki,

I found some information regarding your situation. The Jotun rutting season occurs every few years in mature Jotuns who have bonded to a mate emotionally. Both males and females experience intense sexual urges for anywhere from several days to several weeks, depending on surrounding Jotun populations in the immediate area - the sparser the population, the longer and more intense the rutting season.

So...I suppose you and Iona are rather enjoying your honeymoon. Do let me know if you need any other information about this. 



He was already on a constant edge of irritation, but THAT...from his MOTHER...

He groaned in embarrassment and lay his head down on his desk, over the stacks of papers he still needed to read.


It was a lovely evening, with the sky turning purple because of Asgard's tilt towards the large nebula that they called Ymir's mane. 

After a long, relaxing bath, Iona donned yet another translucent lacy gown and went looking for her husband. He was most likely still engrossed in paperwork. Despite her pragmatic nature, the constant paperwork annoyed her now. 

Had she not done enough to lessen the pressure on Loki? She had arranged a secret meeting with one of her friends, who happened to be one of the best covert operators in Asgard, thereby setting in motion their shared plans against the conspiring merchants. Loki had his trust issues with her, but she had assured him and Iona that the job would be completed at the earliest. Iona had paid her from her personal funds, so that the royal treasury wouldn't be alerted.

That had been done... and still, Loki was nose deep in the papers.

"What is it now?" Iona asked as she entered the study, finding Loki rubbing his forehead and looking miserable.

She tried her best to sound casual, keeping her simmering annoyance on the wayside. Her hands draped over his back and shoulders, massaging them lightly, trying to get the tension out of them.


He instinctively wanted to snap at her, but as soon as she laid hands on him... Norns , her touch felt astonishingly good. He leaned back into her, now understanding and appreciating the tingling sensation he got when she rubbed his tired muscles.

“You were right,” he sighed contentedly, leaning back against her stomach and letting her continue the work on his tired muscles.


His admission confused her. "Right about what?"

She thought it a small victory that he was acting favourably towards her impromptu massage. Maybe she could lure him away from the study soon...


“The rutting season. Mother sent word - once a Jotun is emotionally bonded to a mate, it begins. And the intensity and length of it is determined by how many other Jotuns are around. If fewer Jotuns are around, then the rutting is more intense. So, you can imagine...”

She hit an especially tender spot, and he actually growled at the pain and pleasure of it.

“...I’m going to be a bit off for the next few weeks...” He felt his cock begin to strain against his pants, and he hummed in agonizing delight as her hands squeezed his shoulders. It was not at all having a relaxing effect. “And my patience with the nobles grows thin...”


"Thank the queen mother on my behalf," she jested, biting her lip as Loki groaned in the embarrassment of it all. "Well, at least we know now. Perhaps it won't be that bad if we kept... um... kept you from feeling frustrated in that regard."

When Loki didn't speak up, she tried for a change of topic to take his mind off of Jotun rutting and the fact that his mother had sent him a detailed missive regarding it.

"So... the nobles are still creating unrest at the court?" she asked tentatively, enjoying the sounds he was making as she pressed against the really hard and stiff muscles.

Meanwhile, her sharp mind began to work on a solution for those vexing nobles. The faster they were dealt with, the lesser they'd intrude upon Loki's personal time.


“Of course they are. As always.” He kept his eyes closed - he was happy to discuss it while she massaged him. “Spreading rumors, rupturing alliances. I swear, some of the things that get suggested are just absurd, but the wilder the idea, the more interest it garners, it seems. Ugh...”

Again he moaned as her fingers dug into him...his toes even curled a bit as she worked, and he felt himself getting more and more aroused...also, what she was wearing, and the way she smelled… none of it was helping the matters in his pants.

“Norns, this is worse than the time I was accused of birthing a horse...honestly, not just fucking a horse, but birthing Sleipnir? That horse is older than I am!”


Suddenly, her fingers froze on his shoulders. Goodness, that rumour did travel far and beyond...

"But, I hadn't gone that far in the story," she muttered without thinking. "It was only about Svadilfari and you... not Sleipnir. Everyone knew that Sleipnir was older than you... no?"

She noticed her slip-up far too late, for she had been far too preoccupied with enjoying her husband's responses to her touch.


“....Iona, what ?”

He quickly sat up and turned around to face her. His tenuous release of frustration all but disappeared, and he raised an accusatory brow. The arousal he felt earlier started to turn more feral...

“That was YOU?!”


She backed away from him slowly, her attempt at subtle seduction all but forgotten now.

"It... it was a long time ago, Loki," she tried to say sweetly, but her voice came out all strained. "I mean, everyone has nearly forgotten about it. It doesn't matter..."


“THE MIDGARDIANS WROTE IT IN THE EDDA, IONA!” Loki roared. “It’s accepted mythology now! Do you have ANY idea how much embarrassment I’ve suffered from that rumor?! Still do! TO THIS DAY!!!”

He was fuming. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that his reaction was overblown, that it was, in fact, a long-past issue.

But there was no way in Helheim he was going to calm down any time soon.

“What in the NINE REALMS possessed you to start such a ridiculous rumor?”


Sweet Valhalla, he was positively vibrating with anger now. It was scary, the way his voice boomed in the study. It made her jump.

There went their short period of reconciliation...

Just as he took a step in her direction, Iona couldn't help herself... she bolted out of the room at the same time as she answered him. 

"It was my revenge on you!"


“REVENGE FOR WHAT?!” he howled after her. He could feel that familiar fire bubbling in his body again, growing and exploding...the same fire he had felt when he had found himself alone in their bed last week…

His skin began to itch, his eyes were burning, and there was a sharp pain starting to intensify at the top of his head.

He was standing, he was running, chasing after her as quickly as his legs would take him.



Iona entered the sitting room and hopped over a sofa. She then kicked it so that it would block his path as she ran towards the bedroom. 

"You had coloured my hair white with your evil magic! THAT'S why!" she yelled, trying to put more distance between them. "Why can't you let it drop?!"

In all of this, she had thus far failed to notice that he was transforming ...


He caught sight of her right before she kicked the sofa at him. With a quick adjustment to his trajectory, he planted a foot on it and leapt over, landing solidly on the other side. He slowed his pursuit as he watched her disappear into the bedroom...well, wasn’t that exactly where he wanted her to be…?

The only way out was the balcony.

“You sullied my name for all of HISTORY because of your HAIR?! Oh, what a...stupid, cowardly thing to do...”

He felt taller, stronger...more vicious and voracious. His clothes suddenly felt very constricting, so he vanished them away. 

The horns had sprouted out of his skull, his body bore his Jotun clan markings, but his eyes and skin color were yet to change.

This feeling - the one that had so terrified him when he hadn’t known what it was - now felt potent, energizing...full of lusty vitality . He was still furious, but now that fury was seeking a decidedly different release than violence.

“I’ll let it drop...once I give you your punishment...”


She turned around as she heard the change in his voice. It was deeper, with a familiar growl to it.

That growl vibrated right in her heart and made it hard for her to run from him. It compelled her to slow down.

When her eyes landed upon him, she knew for sure... he was transforming into his Jotun self. THAT didn't scare her so much as the talk of a punishment...

"What?" She jumped onto the enormous bed to get away from him as he made a swipe at her. "What punishment?! You cannot be serious, Loki!"


He reached for her again, grabbing her ankle and pulling her toward him. Everything was driving him mad - the way she looked in that dress, the pheromones coming from her, that look of terror on her face and...something that was not terror...

The corner of his mouth pulled upward, revealing a lengthening fang.

“I’m entirely serious, sweetling,” his voice was so deep and dark that it sounded strange even to his own ears. “And your punishment will serve my needs.”

He blinked, and crimson spread through his eyes like ink, devouring the white and green, leaving nothing but his black pupils, blown wide. Slowly, patches of blue began to blossom across his body. The feeling of rage and power reached a peak...and he gave himself to it.

“Now bend over and be a good girl for DADDY ...”


" W-What ?" she squeaked, completely taken off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "What do you mean? I'm not a child to be punished like that! Not even children get punished like that anymore!"

She tried to slip out from his grip, unsure and apprehensive about this ridiculous new development from him.


Her resistance was...adorable. And pointless. He easily dragged her back to him.

Seating himself on the bed, now fully in his Jotun form, he laid her over his lap, chuckling at how easily he was able to overpower her frail little body. With one deft move, he pulled the dress up and over her back, then ripped her undergarments right off of her.

Seeing the smooth, pale swell of her buttocks on his thigh made him groan, and his cock dug into her belly as she laid over him.

“How many years ago did you start the rumor, Iona?” He felt amazing - in control, and yet so bestial that he could easily release that power at any moment and enjoy the rutting he so desperately wanted. But for now...even as a Jotun ...he wanted to play with her.


She stopped struggling once he had her over his lap. There was no point in struggling when she was so damned overpowered by him.

"I-I don't remember... it was centuries ago! I was still an adolescent while you had just come of age..."


“It was eight hundred and twenty six years ago...” he chuckled, sliding his cerulean hand across the white of her asscheeks and reveling in how she squirmed.

His fingers began slipping along her center, and NORNS was she wet...practically dripping. Just for a laugh, he pushed a finger unceremoniously inside of her, then pulled it out and sucked her juices off of was even better than he’d remembered. And her indignant little squeal was delightful.

“So you’ll receive eight strikes as punishment. One for each century of embarrassment you caused me.” Then he brought his hand down hard on her right cheek and thrilled at the heat of it. “That’s one.”


Iona shrieked as his big palm connected with her flesh, the crack ringing across the room.

It STUNG! But more than that, it filled her with consternation.

"Loki!" She wiggled on his lap, trying to right herself. His hold on her only tightened, making it impossible for her to move even an inch.


He pushed his fingers inside her again and began pumping slowly, being sure to stroke that sensitive spot within her that she so enjoyed.

“Quiet, you mewling quim. Do you know how long I tried to figure out who started that rumor? Do you understand how many innocent people suffered due to YOUR misdeed?”

Suddenly, he pulled out of her and slapped her on her left cheek, just as a rosy hue began to blossom from the right. Her slick smeared against her skin upon impact.

“It gives me no small amount of satisfaction to finally have identified the one who so slandered my good name. And that’s two .”


She moaned as his fingers breached her again after that first slap. The sudden switch from pain to pleasure was shocking. She had never known something like this...

And then he pulled out and slapped her bottom again, making her cry out even louder this time.

"Oh NORNS! I didn't know the rumour would travel so far! I swear! W-Wait... you didn't hurt anyone, did you?"

This whole experience was like a bad fever dream… one that also left her painfully aroused. She felt him move, and her body began to tremble as she expected another slap from him.


Instead, his fingers plunged inside her again, and his thumb rubbed her clit in a gentle, circling motion.

“Of course I did, darling. No one died, but that one young aristocrat with curly blond hair is never going to look at a riding crop the same way again...”

Then, he pulled his fingers from her...and waited...


She gasped in shock.

"Why would you hit someone with a horse taming tool?!"

She squirmed on his lap, unsure of what was coming next. Mayhap he had given up on the spanking... she thought hopefully.


His hand landed on her right cheek with an echoing crack!

“That’s three. And believe me, dear, once I’ve used a riding crop on’ll understand why.”

Then he smacked her left cheek, harder than the previous hits. Her ass was turning a lovely shade of pink, and it radiated heat. It was infatuating.

“And there’s four. Halfway there.”


"Ow!" She screamed fully this time, beginning to struggle again, her legs kicking the air. It hurt! By Ymir’s balls, it hurt!

And she was dying of indignation...

"You're NOT whipping me like an animal, you brute!"


He leaned down close to her hair, still holding her completely immobile against his lap, his fangs grazing the shell of her ear as he spoke.

“Iona, someday you’ll beg me for it.”

Then he hit her again in rapid succession - slap slap slap - and immediately pushed his fingers deep inside her, pumping her quickly and attacking her clit at the same time.


Iona couldn't comprehend what happened next..

But suddenly, she was sobbing and moaning, coming against his fingers uncontrollably.

Tears ran down her eyes as pain and pleasure melded together, giving her the sense that she'd have flown off his lap if he hadn’t been holding her down.


He waited only long enough for her to ride out her orgasm on his fingers, but he could NOT wait any longer. 

He flipped her around so she was straddling his lap and he surged inside her. Taking her hands in his, he put them on his horns and then thrust into her with abandon. 

Within seconds he was exploding, practically howling as he found his completion in her heat. And yet, that didn’t stop him… it was only the beginning of his rut.


Iona sobbed as he suddenly had her bouncing on his manhood, giving her no time at all to recover. More moans and sobs followed from her, mixing with the incoherent grunts of her husband as he rutted into her.

As their mating carried onwards, she lost sense of when her previous orgasm ended and when the new one began. As it was, she was now barely hanging on the edge of consciousness.


Even several minutes after his orgasm, Loki was still rock hard, feeling Iona’s hot, slick pussy gripping him like her life depended on it. Her face was beautifully lax, completely devoid of any overt thought, so utterly taken by the pleasure and pain. She was, simply put, like a rag doll in his grip, completely at his mercy.

He slowed his pace, but did not stop. They faced each other, her hands still reflexively gripping his horns for balance, and he continued to lift and drop her on his cock, watching her eyes widen and softly shut with each thrust.

“Iooona...” he rumbled in a sing-song manner after several more minutes, grinning down at her. 

He rested her firmly on his lap, her legs still straddling him, his cock still deep inside of her throbbing channel. He took her face in his huge, blue hands, tilting it up gently and stroking her hair back.

“Tell Daddy how you feel...” It was almost a whisper, but the darkness in his voice remained, compelling her to answer him.


Her hands tightened around his horns as his gravelly voice brought her back to reality. She had been floating... going through orgasm after orgasm without feeling fully conscious.

Her wet, glassy eyes looked into his crimson ones upon his prompting, her brows furrowing as she tried to process his question...

That column of flesh resting deep inside her made coherent thought quite impossible.

"I... I... " she whimpered, feeling so damn sensitive all over, not to mention, sore. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly feeling parched. "I don't know... I need to stop... coming."


“No, dear. You’re exactly how I want you...soft, supplicant...beautiful...”

He stroked her hair back again and felt his heart flutter when she nuzzled into his hands.

“I want to keep you like this for as long as possible.”

His hands travelled down her face and neck, and he gently raked his nails down her back, leaving thin red lines across her delicate skin.


Iona moaned and trembled, feeling him twitch inside her as his nails left their mark on her. Why was this adding to her pleasure? Should it not feel... bad?

"P-Please..." She arched her back. "I can't take it anymore... Oh Norns!"

His hands cupped her sore, burning bottom. Their cold touch somewhat soothed the heated skin there, making her cry out in relief.

"Loki..." She sobbed, grinding herself against him. "Daddy please! Keep holding me! Feels good..."


He kept his hands on the red fire of her ass, once again lifting and dropping her gently. All of her heat - from her skin, from her breath, from her ass, from her sex - it was like swimming in fire. As he made himself cooler to soothe her, she felt even warmer.

For a long time, they rocked and thrust together, keeping a constant, steady rhythm and reveling in the feel of each other.

He sighed, content and stimulated and about to come again, as she rested her forehead on his chest. He felt her impending orgasm tightening her around his chilly cock, and he wanted to finish, him and her, together.

“Iona...” he said, with a new hint of malice. “I haven’t given you your eighth yet...when I do, I want you to come.”


At first, she froze, her eyes widening upon absorbing what he had just said. The eighth slap... oh Norns...

"Loki please, no more," she cried, weakly slamming her fists against his chest. However, she could feel herself clenching around him at the mere thought of getting spanked again.

Was she... was she growing excited for the spanking? No ...

What was he doing to her? What was he turning her into? A depraved sex fiend?


He chuckled against her, feeling her wanting it even as she said she couldn’t take more. And truth be told...he was just about spent himself. He was thoroughly exhausted and his desires were nearly satisfied. One more... he thought. One more for her...

“On a count of three…”

He lifted her and dropped her again, feeling her clench around him.


He grabbed her asscheeks a bit more firmly and rocked his hips to hit her deep and firm on all her pleasure spots.


He looked into her eyes - so thoroughly fucked and desperate and frightened - and his chest tightened. She was gorgeous and perfect...


His hand came down on her, and his cock erupted, filling her again with his seed.

He shook, he growled, he spasmed and closed his eyes as the waves of his completion pushed him over the brink of ecstasy… then he fell backward and lost consciousness.


Iona shook her head as he counted, her body seizing as the anticipation reached its peak.

And when his hand came down on her, she screamed once again, shaking and clenching intensely on his manhood.

She came... despite her fear she came... right on his command.

And it was too much, for she collapsed against his chest and went limp, her slick channel still milking his hard flesh as she blacked out.


-- Several hours later --

Loki’s eyes fluttered open. It was still dark outside.

It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts and remember where he was and what had happened. He looked down - he was Asgardian again. And sleeping against his chest, breathing softly against his naked skin, was Iona. He laid his head back down and looked up at the ceiling, trying not to disturb her.

He took a deep breath...he’d never felt like this before. He wanted to care for her, to protect her. To show her all the wonders of the universe. To give her everything she wanted and have her with him, always. To love her...and be loved by her return…

Suddenly, his world came into sharper focus - the ideals and dreams he’d had as a young prince, and then as a vassal of Thanos, and finally as King of Asgard, all seemed to pale in comparison to his desire to make his wife, his queen, his lover, HIS Iona...happy.

Which was why it was so odd that, upon their return to the Capital a week later, he immediately put her under house arrest in their royal chambers and blocked her access to anyone other than him.

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona paced around in her chambers--or was it her prison now?--feeling increasingly restless and nervous.

On the trip back from their honeymoon, Loki had begun acting strangely. He had grown painfully quiet and reticent, much to her displeasure. 

And now... now he had confined her to her chambers, disallowing anyone from seeing her, or for her to seek any company at all. She couldn't go out, for he had locked her in with magic, and no one except him could enter.

She waited for his return for hours, and finally, when he did show up, he was looking very put out, as though he was the one under a magical lockdown, not her.


Loki closed the door behind him and sealed it with magic. It would do no good to have anyone hear them or enter without his knowledge...and he had to be especially careful.

As he turned to face his wife, hoping beyond hope that she would trust him without all the facts he knew she wanted, he had to duck quickly out of the way as one of her shoes flew toward his head with incredible accuracy and force. He barely avoided it, and it smashed against the wall. appeared there would be no need for pretense.


“Start talking. Now ,” Iona growled, breathing heavily.

She was glaring at him, her fists clenched in anger. Her patience was at its end, and she was in no mood for any of his usual deflections.

“Don’t make me throw my other shoe at you as well.”


“I’m afraid I’m not going to unfold the answers you want, Iona.”

Loki kept his voice firm and steady, watching her warily, as though she were a bilgesnipe about to charge him. He needed her to stay calm .

“Some information has come to light that is rather... disturbing . And while I don’t believe it completely...I can’t take any chances. That is why you must stay here.”

He kept his eyes locked on hers, at once begging for and demanding her compliance with just that paltry explanation.


“What does that even mean?” she asked, feeling utterly exasperated with him and his annoying crypticness. “Loki, I’m your wife, I’m the queen! Why am I locked up in our chambers?”

She walked up to him and tried to search his smaragdine eyes, silently pleading for him to share more with her. But his gaze was guarded and opaque, giving her the impression of an impenetrable wall.

Seeing his stubbornness, she tried to change her tactics, softening her expression and grasping the lapel of his tunic. “ Please, Loki… what is it? You know that I will not share it with anyone, whatever it is that’s bothering you. I had passed your tests, hadn’t I? Why are you doing this to me?”


He pulled himself out of her grasp, taking several steps away from her, though he couldn’t hide how it pained him to do so. He steeled himself and took a deep breath before speaking to her again.

“If my theory is correct, this will all be resolved soon. But until then...I need you to stay here, away from anyone else. If you trust’ll do this.”


It hurt… the way he pulled away from her, offering no explanation as to why he was treating her like a pariah.

Feeling defeated and no less angry with him, she turned away and made for the bedroom.

"Fine, have it your way, sire , but do not expect me to hide my displeasure or welcome you here with a warm smile."

With that, she closed the bedroom door with a loud clang. There was a tiny hope in her heart that he'd chase her, that he'd enter bedroom in haste and embrace her… but that didn't happen.

Instead, she heard the main door open and close, with his footsteps retreating. 

Once again, she was left alone for hours. 

Loki didn't return for the rest of the day, not even during mealtimes. Somehow, magically, her meals arrived on time, even though she just left them untouched because of her misery.

This continued for three whole days… as her patience with him grew thinner and thinner, his strange behaviour also grew more pronounced. To the point wherein he had stopped sleeping their bed, choosing to spend his nights in his study instead.

Iona felt trapped and distressed, and slowly, it stoked her anger like a burning hot firepit.

Why was Loki doing this to her? She had thought that they had grown close during their honeymoon. She had given herself to him completely, accepted his secrets, and tried to help him with Asgard's political crisis.

What had she done wrong? Was it not enough? Was she not enough…?

Her musings had turned inward by the end of the third day of her house arrest, with dark thoughts of abandonment piling up in her head.

Sighing heavily, she went to her balcony and tried to get some fresh air to ease her psyche. This was the only way she could, for the royal gardens were now inaccessible to her. Spending her evenings watching the sunsets and moonrises was just barely keeping her sane.

"I'm so tired of your changeable, strange ways, Loki. What are you up to?" she grumbled to herself, splaying her arms over the railing as she thought up a few ways to get back at him… to make him beg for her forgiveness.


Suddenly, a soft sound came from the door. A letter slid underneath, and on the front was her name, written in what could only be Loki's flourishing handwriting. Inside, she found a note:

"Keep your wits about you. There is a ‘snake’ among us."


She had just enough time to wonder what that might mean when there was a knock on the door. It was two of the Einherjar -  from Loki’s personal security detail.

"Queen Iona," they said in unison, both thumping an arm across their chests in salute. "We have been sent by King Loki to escort you.”

Iona nodded to the soldiers, hiding the note in her palm.

"Escort me to where, though?" She looked at them with doubt. Could they be lying?

Loki's note really made her treat everyone as a suspect now, even though she didn’t even know what exactly she was suspecting them of. She just hoped that this wasn't one of his elaborate tricks.

"Follow us, your majesty," one said, blatantly not answering her question. But it wasn't long before they were headed in a familiar direction, and Iona found herself in the king's council chambers.


Loki sat at the head of a long table, joined by the nobles from the court on both sides. As soon as he laid eyes on her, he felt a lump in his throat, though none of the others would have seen it. He made sure his face was as ruthless and accusatory as he could make it.

Time to see if she’s as good at politics as I’ve hoped...

"Iona," Loki said. His voice was sterile, almost emotionless, intended to intimidate. "Approach. We have some questions for you."


"We?" she muttered as she approached the head of the table. "I only answer to you, my lord husband and king."

She noticed that the nobles were beginning to glare at her as she walked towards Loki. They had the audacity to do so...?

Feeling incensed and outraged, she glared right back at them.

Then, she focused back on Loki and found him clenching his jaw in impatience. Norns, she hadn't seen his eyes grow so frosty in years. 

What had she done? What was going on? She felt so confused and exposed, with the nobles witnessing this oddly cold behaviour of Loki towards her.

There would be so much court gossip now...


"Iona. Can you explain to me why I found this in your personal effects while we were on our honeymoon at Lake Ulfr?"

Loki brought a small glass vial up on the table - it was dark, almost black glass, with swirls of shimmering green that seemed not to stop moving. He watched her as she regarded it, his gaze unmoving.

Come on, Iona... he encouraged her in his mind, though he knew he could not show it. Hopefully, though...she would know, somehow.


All color drained from her face as she saw the glass vial, the murky green liquid inside taunting her. She knew what it was, but she didn't know how it was found in her personal belongings. 

Was this... was this why Loki had been acting so strangely all these days? Was this why she had been put in house arrest?

Did he suspect her of trying to assassinate him?!

How could he even think so…?

Suddenly, she was on a very shaky ground, and she knew that being tried for treason was a very real possibility. He was the king, and she was still lower in station to him by way of her birth. She could very well be subjected to severe punishment, possibly even an execution .

Think Iona, think. This is obviously a sabotage. Who would do it?

She swallowed hard as she stared at the vial, then back at Loki, pleading to him with her eyes.

"I don't know, y-your majesty. That is not mine," she replied finally, hands wringing together. "Why would I carry a vial of myrkormr venom with me? I have no use for it."


"Why indeed..." he growled. The nobles around him nodded sagely, sycophants that they were. Oh how he despised them right now...

He tried to watch them from the corners of his eyes, though he well knew that looking at anyone directly might give away his suspicions.

"I'm impressed you even know what this is, given that it the myrkormr only resides in Muspelheim. How do you know about this particular tincture, hmm?"

Though Loki couldn't see their faces from this angle, he was sure the nobles were either glaring at her or had on such smug sneers that he probably would have punched them. One of the nobles, a skinny man named Rajmund, settled back in his chair. Another, Valdemar - one of the merchants’ guild - made a noise of agreement, as though that were proof enough for him of her illicit intentions.


By now Iona's knees were shaking. It was only through the practiced calm that she had learned at the court that she was able to mask it and appear somewhat stable.

Did Loki really believe that she was keeping a deadly substance with her? He was clearly suggesting it, with his body language and tone, that he did

Why didn't he ask her privately? Why the show with the nobles? Did that mean that he had already decided her fate?

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she lowered her gaze, her mind still trying to work out why or how that vial could have gotten in her personal effects.

"I-I only know of it because it is used as a medicine, in much diluted form," she replied, still unable to look Loki in the eye as she thought hard about the venom. "I used to accompany the Queen Mother on her visits to the healing wards. I had seen it there, used as a cure for severe nerve damage."

Suddenly, something dawned on her...

"And the medical supplies for the tinctures come exclusively from Lord Harald's lands," she added, finally meeting Loki's eyes. "I was involved in overseeing the supply contract with the Queen Mother. That's all that I know of it."


There was just a hint of a spark in Loki's green eyes as she said that name, but he hoped it was enough for her to see that he was following her line of thought.

"I see..." he said. Of course, Lord Harald was one of the eight high-born nobles sitting in the of the foul creatures who had come to seek alliance with the king once the rumors of what he'd found had spread.

" would you have gained access to it? Those supplies are heavily guarded, and only those with a healer's sigil can open the magically sealed closet where they are stored..."

Loki saw the other nobles beginning to shift uncomfortably, especially Harald...


Iona clasped her hands together, nodding to Loki. His eyes seemed somewhat less cold now, though he still looked very calculatingly at her. The accusing tone hadn't changed.

"That is exactly why I cannot have access to it... not even to a diluted solution of the venom from a healer," she stated, beads of perspiration now marking her forehead. "Unless I've developed a nerve disease of some sort. Then again, the healer would've administered the doses directly to me ."

She then looked back at the nobles, who were still glaring at her, except Harald, who looked a bit white in the face.

"Your majesty, even with my authority as a queen, I cannot acquire a vial of the concentrate. It is mentioned in the contract that no one, without any exceptions, can have the venom on their person, not even the king. Not even Lord Harald. The venom has to remain in a confined, strictly demarcated area within his lands. It can only leave the area--the tincture production unit--after processing."


"Is that so..." Loki turned to Lord Harald. "I wonder, then, how it ended up in with the queen's items that were brought to Lake Ulfr. Although...Harald, was it not YOUR skiff that we used to reach our honeymoon destination? It was so kind of you to offer it, but there now seem to be some unusual coincidences coming to light..."

Harald was very pale now. "You majesty...I...only offered my best skiff out of the kindness of my heart. I had no idea about the queen's nefarious intentions-"

"Iona?" Loki cut him off and looked at her, the coldness gone. But not the it was more of an invitation. "Could you please explain how the poison ended up in your personal effects?"


Iona turned to glare at Harald as she spoke. "I don't know, my lord husband. The skiff was Lord Harald's, as you say. I wasn't even aware of that. The servants who loaded my luggage therein belonged to him as well, I suppose."

Harald got up from his seat then, and raised an accusing finger at her. "She's the one who acquired and carried that vial! She's the one who tried to kill you, your majesty! She has always conspired against you!"

Iona felt a bit of a relief at his reaction, knowing that it was very telling. He was exposing himself here.

"We could interrogate the servants," she suggested, ignoring the now belligerent noble. "They might disclose something in the light of a possible pardon. I’m sure the Gatekeeper can shed further light on it, especially in identifying the servants that were involved."


“Indeed, my dear,” Loki grinned. “And for safe measure, Harald, you will be waiting in the dungeons until our investigation is complete.”

“You CAN’T do this! I’ve been nothing but loyal to you, your Majesty!” Harald cried, his eyes wide. “And Heimdall cannot make any revelations regarding the incident, for you were using your cloaking spells against him!”

“SILENCE!” Loki barked, and Harald instantly shut his mouth, shaking with rage and terror.


Iona shivered a bit as Loki raised his voice, the Jotun tone bleeding into it as he ordered Harald to be silent. 

She watched, still standing at the head of the table with the poise and grace of a queen, as the Einherjar entered the room once again and grabbed Harald in their inescapable hold. 

She noticed then, that the other nobles at the table were white faced as well, some even looking like they were going to be sick. Good. They deserved it for gloating and silently enjoying her humiliation at the king’s hands.

"Might I suggest sending the rest of them to the dungeons as well, just as a precautionary measure, my king?" she asked, giving Loki a docile smile. "We wouldn't want a spread of rumours through them while Lord Harald is being investigated. It wouldn't amount to actual, official imprisonment, but just as a precautionary incarceration."

She knew that she was treading a fine line and acting a bit too sinister for an Allmother . She was supposed to display kindness and sagacity, but not with too sharp an edge. However, she didn't care much for that kind of perception building right now. 

Iona felt thirsty for the blood of those who had tried to wrong her. She felt as though a serpent was indeed coiled around her psyche, offering her the dark path of revenge.


Loki thanked the Norns again that he was seated, as that vengeful and gorgeously sinister smile on Iona’s face  - disguised as a docile and prim expression - made his cock hard as stone almost instantly. Ymir’s balls , the woman was incredible! Perfect in every way on the surface...and just as ruthless and calculating as he was underneath. He grinned at her, adjusting his position to accommodate the new bulge in his lap.

“Now, dear, these men have done nothing but show their support for me during a time of great uncertainty. And now that we have weeded out the traitor, they are fully aware of the consequences if they meddle with either of us...” He looked around the table at the nobles shifting uncomfortably, and his grin widened.

“We can always bring them in later, if any new information comes to light. Which, I’m certain there won’t be a need for, yes, gentlemen?” His eyes narrowed as he looked at each of them nodding nervously in response.


Iona pouted a little as the nobles all stood up rather quickly, bowing to Loki and her in a most subservient manner.

And then they retreated from the room hastily, almost tripping over their high-born robes.

As the room emptied, Iona turned around see Loki rising from his seat at the head of the table. She gave him the sweet, docile smile again as she approached him.

He grinned and leaned against the table, looking rather smug. 

Oh, how she wanted to wipe that smugness from his unfairly handsome face. She pressed herself to him and sighed.

"Dearest husband, that was most entertaining," she murmured, surreptitiously pulling the dagger that she had hidden in the folds of her dress. She brought it right to his throat in a single move. "But if you ever do this to me again, I'm going to actually make an attempt on your life."


He didn’t even flinch.

He just grinned at her, took her other hand gently, and moved it to his crotch. His bulge throbbed at her touch.

“You were wonderful, darling. Just stunning… I’d die a thousand deaths at your hand, just to witness your wrath.”

He felt the blade moving along his Adam’s apple as he spoke, and a chill went down his spine. Part of him wanted to dare her to do it - to cut his throat...and the other part reveled in the fact that he knew she wouldn’t. That he trusted she wouldn’t.

“I found the vial in your wardrobe after our.. .incapacitating conjuncture , when you took your punishment with the strength and grace that even a Jotun could appreciate...”

He moved closer to her, pressing his body against hers.

“Which, I thought was a rather sloppy way for someone to go about trying to kill me. Especially someone with your intellect and talents...”

He got nose to nose with her, the blade of the dagger still dancing with his words.

“...And that the best way to expose whoever was trying to frame you would be to behave as though I were afraid for my life from you ...and once I’d narrowed it down, I thought I’d see if you could determine who was the culprit. Congratulations, my dear. Test passed, with flying colors.”

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Iona growled at him in anger, still pressing the blade to his throat as he spoke. 

Her cheeks turned several shades redder when he mentioned the punishment he had meted out to her at Lake Ulfr again. Norns, he was utterly shameless...

"A test. A jest . What a humorous little event you orchestrated here," she muttered, digging into his crotch with her nails. "Does it ever end with you? Do you even realize the harsh impact your little test had on me?"


Having her holding him at her mercy - cock in one hand, dagger against his throat in the other - was aphrodisia . Loki made a noise that almost sounded like a purr and a whimper.

“I told you, sweetling...I will always test you. And should it ever end...that’s when you should be concerned, because something would be terribly wrong with me.”

Her anger was like honey mead; he loved it.  He yearned for her to show him what punishment she had in mind for him...certainly he’d earned it after keeping her in the dark for almost three whole days...


She couldn't believe it. He was growing harder in her harsh grip... while she was threatening him!

He was a twisted bastard...

Well, she could give him the twisted charms if he so wanted them.

"Really?" she asked, licking her lips seductively, running her dagger down his throat, the edge sliding through his royal tunic and jacket like they were butter.

Once through with them, she reached the edge of his pants and caressed his navel and abdomen with the blade, watching the muscles therein clench in response.

"Close the doors and windows if you don't want your subjects to be scandalized."


Like an explosion emanating from him, a blast of seidr went out and every door and window in his council chambers shut and locked instantly with a loud crack of wood on stone.

He groaned as the sliced remnants of his shirt and jacket fell from his arms to the floor, and goosebumps blossomed on his skin as she ran the blade along his stomach. He dared not move an inch.


Iona watched him closely as she ran the blade up to his nipples, scratching one lightly with the blunt edge.

"Open your pants, my king," she purred, still playing the dagger against his sensitive skin.


He lifted his chin, looking down at her with hooded eyes. He hands moved to his breeches and untied them for her. Swallowing hard, his arms went obediently to his sides yet again.


Iona felt drunk on this new power over him, that he had handed to her, even though she didn't quite know how to wield it properly.

This was new territory.

Still, she reached for his manhood with renewed enthusiasm, nearly forgetting that she had been angry with him.

Pulling his hard length out, she began to caress it with the dagger as well, very careful this time around. She didn't want to nick him in his most sensitive parts, after all; that would be bad for her as well. It surprised her that he was even allowing her to go this far...

However, his increasingly laborious breathing suggested that he was quite enjoying this treatment.

"Do you repent, dear husband?" she asked, running the blade up to his tip, tickling it a little. "Do you want to beg me for mercy?"

Her other hand grasped his inky locks and pulled his head back a little so that she could leave marks on his neck with her lips and teeth.


“I beg your forgiveness, my queen...” he said, his voice cracking and harsh. The intoxicating mix of fear and surrender made his head swim, and the feel of the sharp blade against his most prized possession had him standing ramrod straight and desperately unmoving.

And when she grabbed his hair and marked him with her teeth, he whimpered in suppliance.

“Please...have mercy...”


His pleading nearly made her moan. She was so damn wet and swollen... she was even breathing heavily now.

"You're fortunate that your wife is merciful," she said against his throat, biting his adam's apple playfully. 

Meanwhile, she twisted the dagger beneath his aroused flesh and bounced it on its hilt, making the clear liquid it was producing drip over the blade and her hand.

"Get back into your chair," she commanded, pulling away suddenly.


He gasped as her touch left him, eyes fluttering open; he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them.

Fully erect, his manhood jutting out of his open pants, he silently turned and walked back to the head of the table to sit where she had instructed. His brow peaked as his emerald eyes watched her, all hint of defiance gone from them.

She was thoroughly and utterly in control.


She lifted her skirts and stood before him, showing him her lacy, almost translucent intimate wear. "Pull them down," she ordered, looking at him coldly--well, pretending to look at him coldly.

When he followed her command without a hitch, it nearly made her giddy with excitement. The only tell of his frustration was in his eyes, which appeared to be containing molten passion in them.

"You're not allowed to touch me until I grant you permission," she stated further, straddling him in a single move. "Keep your hands to the sides, grasp the chair if you want to, but not me."

With just a few movements atop him, she was sliding down on his hard flesh, slowly taking him into her wet sheath.


Norns, he wanted to grab her hips, her back, her hair, her breasts... anything ! But instead, his hands clenched on the armrests of the chair - he swore he heard it splintering, but his eyes were so firmly shut he could not see it for himself.

His throat danced as he swallowed and panted and groaned, fighting with himself to remain obedient while his body demanded action. The dominance that came so easily to him struggled against his psyche while she took him, and his body arched as he strained with the physical pleasure and mental torture.

Well, he did deserve it all for keeping her in the dark...


Iona moaned as she took him fully, her bottom now resting on his thighs. His eyes were closed now, and he was clearly struggling to maintain the submissiveness she was demanding of him.

"Open your eyes, my king," she murmured as she leaned over him, the dagger still in her hand. "Look at me while I take my pleasure from you."

When he did open his eyes, they were crimson.

She didn't let that affect her, choosing instead to press the blade's blunt edge against his lips. "This is my favourite blade. You've messed it up, covered it in your essence. Lick it clean for me."


Loki felt the now-familiar itching on his skin and burning in his eyes that preceded his unintentional transformation. Moreso, the surge of feral possession and protectiveness that percolated within him hammered at his already tenuous restraint.

“Iona...” he growled, his voice beginning to change and deepen. To accompany the change in his voice, the dark Jotun horns also started sprouting from his skull...

But even as he said her name, she pushed the knife onto his tongue, and he tasted himself upon it as he brushed his tongue across it. He was shaking now, taking long and labored breaths as his fangs lengthened and his markings began rising from his skin...

“I don’t much longer...I can take this...” he groaned, his cock so engorged within her that he swore she would rip in half from it. How in Hel was she keeping such a placid look on her face...?!


Iona began to move up and down on him as she saw the transformation happen. She knew that she was on borrowed time, that his control would slip.

"Good boy," she praised him as he licked the knife clean, cupping his cheek in her hand. "You have to take this, husband, for you tormented me for days. Feeling you withdraw from me without knowing the reason was not pleasant."

Tracing the markings on his chest with the blade, she kept moving methodically over his slick, hard column of flesh. It was getting tougher to move now, though, for he was filling her so completely and making her insides melt.

Still, she wanted to carry this teasing pace for as long as she could.


He let out a bestial noise, now fully Jotun, and leaned into her hand as she praised him. Surprisingly, he found that he longed to be compliant when she complimented him - that primeval, instinctive drive that craved her approval fell complacent at her words.

“My queen...” he moaned as she rode him, his head falling back and his lips parting gently, exposing his fangs. “I am sorry. Please...whatever you wish. I am yours.”


"Yes, you're mine. Don't you forget that, husband. Now... take my clothes away," she ordered, kissing his thin violet lips softly, tracing her tongue over his fangs slowly. "But keep those hands where I told you."

She was loving this shift in their dynamics immensely. He was fully Jotun now, and still, he was compliant and submissive to her. Norns, she had never thought it possible...

"You want to come?" she moaned against his lips, clenching around his manhood with all her strength. "Tell me, husband..."


“I want what you want...” he said softly, then bent down and took her bodice in his mouth. Without removing his hands from the armrests, he tore her dress off bite by bite.

It wasn’t hurried or desperate, but reverent. He was careful never to interrupt her motions, and after minutes of delicate work, her entire outfit lay in tatters on the floor.


"With the way you're going through my dresses, there's going to be nothing left for me to wear," she whispered, grasping his hair again to bring his lips to her breast. 

He growled against her flesh, hungrily pulling her taut nipple into his mouth as she increased her pace. 

Iona slowly pushed the knife between them and pressed the cold metallic hilt to her clit, moaning louder at the pleasure she just gave herself.

"Mmmm... I'm so close, Daddy, do you feel it? Do you feel my quim tightening around you?" she asked, playing up the false innocence in her voice.


His entire body was tingling, every nerve alight and aware and alive. He felt like he was drawing pleasure from her everywhere they touched - his mouth on her breast, her hands in his hair, his cock in her burning hot center, everywhere their skin touched radiated with electric vibration.

"Yesss," he was barely able to speak. Pleasing his queen and humming with pleasure himself, his mind was a whirlwind of sensations and feeling with not a single coherent thought other than to bring her to orgasm before finally coming to his own peak.

And that fucking dagger...every time that cold piece of metal came between them, he felt like a wolf was manifesting within him. Every instinct screamed at him to bite and take and lose control - the only thing that prevented it was his love for her...


Iona was now bouncing on his thighs, eyes nearly closed in pleasure as she teetered towards her orgasm.

"Yes... Loki, I'm so close..." She rubbed the dagger's pommel against her sensitive nub, going harder and harder. However, it wasn't her husband's finger, and that's why it wasn't really working in her favour.

Finally, she threw the dagger away and grabbed his hands. "Hands on me. Now!" she cried impatiently.


His hands instantly went to work - one on her clit, the other holding her to him by her lower back. He pressed his thumb along her glistening pearl with equal force and enthusiasm, and he lifted and dropped her on his cock to match her rhythm, moaning gasps and cries echoing from his chest and throughout the chamber.

He was tipping over the edge, everything taut and ready to snap, coiling tighter and tighter...bringing his beautiful Iona to completion.


Iona grabbed his neck and held on tight as her orgasm hit her. Her nails dug into his skin as her cries of grew louder and louder.

"Loki!" His name left her lips repeatedly, till her voice grew a bit hoarse and her body collapsed against his.

She could feel him throb inside her then, marking the beginning of his climax. A small smile played on her lips as he joined her in the throes of an intense orgasm. Hearing and feeling him come was a pleasure in itself...


Everything released. All the building-up and tightening and yearning was instantly and overwhelmingly satisfied in a flood pleasure and relief and...well, disbelief

His vision blurred, and he felt as though he were floating; where they joined was the only grounding sense he could recognize. He emptied himself completely, reveling in the feel of her slick walls milking him as he bonded himself to her with his seed.

Panting, sweating, and exhausted, he rested back in the chair, his throat smarting from the heavy breathing and exertion.

He couldn't have moved if his life depended on it.


She kissed him tenderly as he panted, still feeling him releasing inside her. Oh, it was such a delicious sensation... she was getting addicted to it.

"Are you all right, husband?" she asked naughtily, giggling a bit as he groaned.


"Not...yet..." he breathed, still rumbling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. His body trembled gently underneath her, both hands resting on the small of her back.

It took several minutes for his mind to pull itself back together. With a grunt and a deep sigh, he sat up, still fully sheathed inside his queen. 

As he gazed upon her with barely open eyes, he could feel his Jotun side receding. That was a relief...


She kissed his horns as they slowly receded, stroking his hair soothingly.

"I hadn't expected this much submissiveness from you, to be honest. I thought you'd just grab me and take me the way you wanted..."

She looked into his eyes as the red slowly bled out, giving way to the verdant green. Somehow, both the colours suited him equally. He was beautiful in both his forms.


"I'm the God of Mischief, darling..." he quipped as his skin returned to its pale shade and the markings faded. His voice had also returned to its normal tone. "I severely doubt I'll ever behave as you expect. But I hope I've shown you that my motivation is devotion to you, regardless of my behavior."

He looked at her with so much love that he was almost embarrassed by it. But if anyone deserved to see him at his most vulnerable, it was her .

"I love you, Iona," he said as he finally relaxed into his Asgardian form. 


She kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him tightly. That confession of love that came so easily to him still evaded her somehow, but she didn’t let it bother her for now.

Right now, she simply accepted the love from him… and gave it back to him in ways that she could .

“Mmmm, now tell me,” she said after pulling away from his addictive lips. “Share with me how you went about gathering the suspects.”


He tapped her on the nose affectionately, giving her a wicked grin as she pulled herself off his lap.

"As you wish, my queen. But first, may we share a spot of tea?"

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

Loki was bent over his workbench, rapidly scribbling notes about his observations - these new samples from the leyline in Alfheim were some of the purest he’d seen. He had several quill pens behind him, copying his notes as he wrote them, so when he presented his findings with the merchants’ council, each person could have a copy.

He also had several other samples from different areas being processed on the counter near his supplies - flasks and beakers floated near the burners and added liquids as was necessary. He could move on to those once he’d finished with this one.

Loki was tracking everything, of course. He was a master multitasker, and the seidr that flowed through him and manipulated the objects was simply an extension of himself, at this point.

His hair kept falling in front of his face as he worked, and so with a huff, he pulled a green ribbon from thin air, then let it go. It hovered there for a moment before it flew over and tied his hair back into a pristine ponytail, every strand in place.

At this rate, he was pretty certain that he’d be done in a little less than an hour...


Iona watched her husband from the doorway of his study, both amused and kind of envious. She had come over to see what he was up to, since he hadn't joined her in bed yet.

"What's going on in that busy brain of yours? Isn't it about time you came to bed, Loki?" she asked, stepping into the room carefully, avoiding the hovering beakers as she reached him. 


“Soon, darling,” he said, still focused on the samples in front of him. “I’m meeting with the merchants tomorrow, as you know. After your little friend’s meddling, they’ve finally agreed to settle for a pact, with certain conditions , of course. I need to finish analyzing these leyline samples. They claimed the quality of the raw material was of course I had to check for myself. Lo and behold...” He stopped then, and turned, smiling at her. “The bastards lied to me. Again.”

Then he turned back, the quills behind him began their writing again as he started up. “I’ll have to come at them with proof if I want to protect that resource. But don’t worry - I won’t be much longer.”


Iona leaned against his large study table, resting her bottom on its edge. She didn't budge from there, just watching him as he worked. 

Well, she may have been pouting as well.

"Can't it wait till tomorrow morning? I... I want to retire for the night." She started unbraiding her long mahogany hair, ‘accidentally’ unhooking a few of her nightgown's front buttons, revealing the swells of her breasts. "I've read that concentration in work and study is better during the early morning time. Why don't you try that for a change?"


All of the items in the room slowed as he turned again to his wife. He wore that now-familiar expression - as though he wanted to eat her alive - for several seconds as his eyes traversed her body.  Then, with a sigh, the room resumed its earlier speed and he turned back to his work-desk.

“Oh, Iona. I wish I could. Truly . But I’m right in the middle of this and I need it early tomorrow. I’ll be done within the hour...then I’ll use this seidr for something much more... appealing .”

He growled the last word with lust, though he wasn’t looking at her. Now he was aroused AND in a hurry to complete this analysis.

He pulled a small box out of thin air, then tossed it to her quickly. “I ordered these for you - thought you might enjoy them while I’m occupied.”


She could barely catch the box; he had tossed it at her in such haste. 

Curious and eager to see what might be inside it, she opened it quickly. It contained an assortment of chocolates. 

"Oh!" she gasped, almost bouncing in excitement. "I haven't had these for so long! Well, you ruined my collection not long ago. So it's apt that you replaced it."

She smirked at him cheekily as she leaned towards him to give him a kiss. It was supposed to be a chaste kiss, but somehow, the feel of his lips against hers... it made her want to taste his tongue. She was unable to help herself from deepening the kiss.


Loki almost dropped the glass equipment as she slid her tongue in his mouth, and he moaned into her. His cock sprang to attention, but he backed away from her, taking her hips in his hands and gently pushing her away from him with a look of genuine apology.

“I’ll finish as fast as I can. I promise.”


She pulled away with a frown, opening the chocolate box and popping one in her mouth. 

"I bet you can't live one day in your life without your seidr," she muttered, chewing slowly. "You're so overly dependent on it, it's like your fifth limb, isn't it? Like a monkey's tail..."

Norns, she was growing angry now. How could he just... brush her aside like that? Couldn’t he sense her need for him? 


“Excuse me?” he said indignantly. “A monkey’s tail?” Just to show off, he took everything he was controlling, brought it to the center of the room, spun it into a sphere, and then commanded them all to go back to their tasks. “ Please . Why wouldn’t I use it as much as possible? And you know my ‘fifth limb’ belongs to you, darling.”

He smirked, then leaned over, giving her a look of loud sarcasm. 

“You’ve never complained about my use of seidr before. Perhaps you’re the one feeling ‘overly dependent’ on another one of my skills...”


"And what skill would that be?" she asked flippantly, popping another chocolate into her mouth. "I can't think of any..."

She tried to give off the air of deliberate nonchalance in her demeanour, just to annoy him, as she began to teasingly play with the rest of the buttons on her nightgown.


Loki’s eyed her lecherously as a dirty smile spread across his lips. He sent a tendril of seidr curling up her leg, caressing her calf and winding itself around her thigh until it pressed between her legs through her panties. His smile widened at her reaction, which was to arch her back and gasp in surprise.

Really, she was just too easy to play with, sometimes...

“You haven’t gone a single day without my attentions since we reconciled after our honeymoon. Look at you - the sun goes down and you practically keen with desire. In fact...”

His magic pulled her toward him, dragging just her toes along the ground until she was up against his chest. “I doubt you can last a day without begging for an orgasm.”


Her eyes narrowed at him as he challenged her, his magical spell teasing her already burning desire to a roaring flame. 

Norns, she hated that he was right. He had made her quite an addict to carnal pleasure. But she wasn't going to admit it to his face.

"Oh, and I bet you cannot last a single day without using your seidr, husband. I'm a lady first, so I can assure you that I can do well without the pleasures of flesh. I've spent centuries like that before I married you."


Loki’s eyebrows raised with interest. “Oh...really?”

The seidr pushed aside her panties and opened her center, holding her comfortably still as her knees weakened from the phantom penetration. 

“That’s a bargain I’m willing to make. But why stop at a day? How about a week? Or a month? Or more? Better yet...which of us will crack first, I wonder...”

Then he laughed as she let out a needy moan while he literally worked his magic on her. “Nevermind. It would be too easy.”


"How about you stop using your seidr to manipulate my body?" she growled, trying to glare at him, but failing. The pleasure was too intense... "This is most unfair! Stop..."


“That’s what I’ve been trying to do, sweetling.”

Suddenly, his seidr disappeared, leaving her completely untouched. The instruments in the room began working again, and he went back to taking notes.

“You’re on, by the way,” he muttered almost off-handedly. “Also, you don’t get to pleasure yourself during this challenge.”


She huffed, stepping away from the table and tossing her hair back in frustration.

"Fine! Starting tomorrow, let's see who lasts longer. I bet you cannot even last an hour without your magical gift."


“Fine,” he retorted, then with a grin, he sent a puff of air at her and lifted her gown as she departed.

She growled in irritation, but didn’t turn back.

“Starting tomorrow...”

The next morning was a bright and sunny day. Loki awoke when the sun shone on his face, and he sat up and stretched, feeling the life burn in his limbs.

He turned and looked at Iona, sleeping...well, not gracefully. One arm was thrown over her head, and her mouth was slightly open. Her hair tangled around her wildly, and the softest snore escaped her.

My beautiful queen... he chuckled softly as he got out of bed and headed to the washroom. He went to summon his hairbrush...but then remembered the bargain from last night. No magic until Iona was begging him for an orgasm. Hm.

Well, it was merely an inconvenience, at best. He opened the drawer (and realized how long it had been since he’d done so), pulled out his brush, and set to preparing himself for the day.


Iona woke up to an empty bed, a fact that often upset her for no reason. Loki was a busy man, the king of Asgard and the Allfather, after all. He had to get up early. And well... try as she might, she was often not able to rise so early. His attentions in bed, even though they gave her intense pleasure, often left her exhausted. 

Sighing, she left the bed slowly, running her fingers through the tangles in her long hair. She wondered if Loki was keeping his side of the bargain. 

After all, she had no way to check on him when he was out of her sight. That thought gave her an idea...

What if she became an utter pest to him and didn't leave him alone the whole day?

That would ensure that he didn't use magic at all. Hmmm....

Quickly, she rushed to the bathroom to get ready for the day. And to chase her husband down so that she could keep an eye on him as he went about his kingly business.


His hair wasn’t laying right. As many times as he ran that brush through it, there was still a lump or two where there shouldn’t be. Loki stared at his reflection, forced to watch his own frustration and ire build as his prized raven locks misbehaved. 

The smoothing spell he used almost daily could take care of that. And what would the harm be? Just a quick little use of seidr, and he would look ready for the day - he’d done everything else without it (and NORNS was it exhausting and time-consuming! Who knew actually brushing your teeth took so much effort?).

Just as he was about to draw it to his palm, the door burst open and Iona rushed though, eyes on him like a hawk.

He instantly stopped and spun around to greet her, smiling in his most charming, beguiling way.

“Good MORNING dearest! How did you sleep? Well, I hope?”


Iona watched him sharply, eyes narrowed. His hand hand been cupped in that typical way when she had entered the bathroom, just like he always did when using a spell. She had noticed that in their time spent together.

"You're not using magic , are you, Loki?" she asked as she stepped up to him. "Don't try to throw me off with that charming smile. Keep it for those merchants."


“Of course not, darling. That would end our little game. And I’m SO looking forward to watching you break in desperation LONG before I do anything magical.”

She gave him a huff and rolled her eyes. Impertinent, as always.

His charming smile turned darker, and he put his arm around her waist while watching her with a predatory gaze. “I don’t need magic to turn you into a quivering puddle of need...”


Norns, he didn't play fair. That silken voice wrapped around her just the way his arm did, making it hard for her to focus on anything. 

"You're far too sure of yourself," she muttered, pushing him away as he chuckled. "We'll see about that."

She turned around and grasped a towel, thinking of ways to turn this challenge into something of a headache for him. 

"Oh, and letting that aside, I wanted to discuss something with you. Regarding that meeting with the merchants, and holding the court today."

He blinked and gave her a curious look as she turned back to face him, but kept silent, expecting her to continue.

"I want to accompany you to these meetings and attend the court," she stated cheerfully. "I want to be an active queen, so I must be a part of these activities.”


“You... what ?” Loki’s stomach turned in knots for just a moment. It wasn’t an unprecedented or unreasonable request, but he knew why she was doing it. And she even had a reason to be involved; given what had happened with Lord Harald, she had a vested interest in seeing these negotiations proceed without further conspiracy against her.

But the thought of her watching him ALL DAY to make certain he kept to his word...oh NORNS she was an evil bitch sometimes...

Fine, she wanted to be around him every moment, he would ensure every moment was as uncomfortable as possible.

Not that he’d let her know that.


Iona eyed him carefully as he deliberated on her decision. Feigning a pout, she sighed most unhappily. “You don’t want me to?”


“Actually...upon further reflection, I think that’s a wonderful idea, sweetling. In fact, it will be nice to spend some extra time with you, and hear your thoughts on the arrangements. Having an extra set of ears on the conversation will aid in preventing those backstabbing merchants from pushing their agenda as fervently.”

He bent down, kissed her cheek chastely, then made to exit the washroom to get dressed, a warm and genuine smile gracing his features.

“Let’s have breakfast together so I can catch you up on my findings from last night. I’ll order the honey-bread and pastries you so enjoyed from our betrothal ceremony...”



"Oh..." she blushed a bit as she remembered the betrothal feast. But she put that thought aside quickly. "That would be wonderful, husband. How thoughtful of you."

She smiled and batted her eyes at him as he exited the bathroom, making sure that she looked utterly innocent while doing it.


Almost an hour later, Loki was still struggling to get his clothes on. How in the Nine Realms were his garments supposed to go together?! It had been so long since he’d actually done it himself that he’d forgotten how the complex matrix of ties, buttons, and fasteners on all those layers of fabric worked. And he couldn’t bring himself to call the attendants...he’d not used them for centuries, and requesting them now might raise suspicion about his health or abilities.

Then again, showing up to court looking a mess wasn’t much better.

But the WORST part was having Iona sit primly at the table, eating the breakfast he’d ordered and drinking her tea with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. He threw a subversive glare at her before returning to his trial. It was ALMOST there, just one more button...or maybe two...


"Need help?" she asked, watching him over the rim of her tea cup. Watching him struggle with something as basic as dressing himself was extremely entertaining to her. "I mean, you've been at it for about an hour and the breakfast is getting cold. Plus, I'm dying to know about your findings. So..."

She put the cup down and rose from her chair, approaching him quickly. 

"Let me." She gave him a quick smile as she grasped his struggling hands. "I wear complicated clothes all the time, so I have a bit of experience in figuring out what goes where."

With that, she quickly got to work, smoothing her hands over the fabric of his tunic and undercoat, seeking the fasteners and plackets needed for his surcoat and then the spaulders.


Loki gave up and raised his arms out of her way, allowing her to finish the task in mere seconds. The humiliation of it was almost unbearable...but then again, it did bring her within arms reach...

Once she finished, he pulled her close to him, pressing her body to his. “Thank you, darling. Allow me to show you my gratitude...”

Then he bent down and kissed her deeply, tasting the remnants of the honey-bread and tea on her lips. He dearly longed to relieve his frustration...


She couldn't help but kiss him back. His lips were just so... alluring. And he knew how to use them on her. 

"Mmm... husband, please," she mumbled between kisses, just barely able to speak against his dominant mouth. "B-Breakfast..."

A soft moan escaped her as he all but lifted her against him and cupped her bottom through her dress. Norns, resisting him was an arduous task...

And yet, in the back of her mind, she knew why he was being like this.. no, it wasn't a show of gratitude on his part, it was a move to weaken her resolve to not seek pleasure from him. 

With a groan, she landed a punch against his arm, her delicate gold vambrace clanging against the metal of his armour.


The tiny clang was enough of a distraction for him to break their kiss and look at her salaciously. But she had a point - it was nearly time for the meeting, and she ought to know about the findings. His stomach growled softly - he also needed to have some breakfast.

For the next few minutes, he sat with her as they ate and went over his work from the previous night, explaining how the samples proved that the merchants had lied about the quality of the leyline. Once she confirmed she was comfortable with the information, they headed to the council room, arm in arm.

When they arrived, the merchants were already seated and waiting. A few surprised murmurs arose at the arrival of the queen.

“Gentlemen, her majesty will be joining us for today’s proceedings. We have much to discuss...” His voice went dark - almost threatening - when he said the last sentence and took his seat at the head of the table, Iona at his side.


Iona was very glad about the fact that he had made her sit right next to him, like an equal, and not acted like the previous kings, who would've put her somewhere in the background--able to listen to everything, but not visible.

It had always annoyed her...

As the meeting went on, she learned a great many things about the mining procedures. Loki had already educated her about the different leyline ore qualities, and that really helped her in keeping up with the discourse. Loki's knowledge about these things was impressive, in-depth and very thorough.

That was one thing that she found extremely attractive about him. He was full of knowledge, and he knew how to use it.

But sharing the findings and discussing the intricacies of taxes and trade laws wasn't the only thing that was happening at the meeting. Iona noticed that her husband's hands were straying... constantly touching her under the table, either caressing her wrist or grasping her thigh. 

As the minutes passed, he only grew bolder, much to her surprise and chagrin. This wasn't the place for his little games, and it was extremely distracting for her!


Loki thoroughly enjoyed both emasculating the merchants at their own game AND surreptitiously driving Iona mad with his touch. It turned out to be a very successful endeavor on both fronts - by the time the meeting ended, the merchants had signed the accords for use of the leyline with no concessions on his part (actually Iona had really helped with that, picking up on subtle inconsistencies in their arguments that even he had missed as he tried to negate their other claims), and Iona was shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

The day progressed with Iona at his side, constantly watching him. Each time she gave him a suspicious look, he would simply throw her a simmering, lusty gaze, and she would blush and look away.

But it was harder than he let on - there were SO MANY times when he would have normally called on his seidr to aid him in something inconsequential - reaching an item from across the room, pulling supplies from his inter-dimensional pocket, even just getting at an itch on his back! - that by the end of the day his nerves were frayed. EVERYTHING took so much longer and was so very inconvenient! He found himself longing to ease his struggle, just once...and then Iona would give him that smug look again and he’d steel himself.

The only thing stopping him from giving in was his pride. He wanted to win... badly.


As the day came to an end, Iona could see that the ban on using his seidr was beginning to have its effects on Loki. He was looking visibly annoyed now, often acting overtly cranky towards everyone, even his mother.

She expected him to snap at her as well, but he didn’t. No… instead, he tried to appear more and more charming. And his teasing touches didn’t cease; they became more pronounced. That annoyed her in turn.

By the time they were abed, she was ready to wave her dagger in his face again.

“Loki, stop touching me,” she muttered as he shifted under the covers to reach her. “The challenge is still on, after all.”


“We never said I couldn’t touch you,” Loki said in as seductive a voice as he could manage, resting his hand on her waist and squeezing it softly. Teasing her all day had been a joy, and a welcome relief from the irritation of not using seidr...but it had come at a cost. He was positively vibrating with need himself. “One day is plenty of time for this silly challenge, is it not? Congratulations, you didn’t beg for an orgasm even allow me to reward you…”

The whole time, he was praying in the back of his mind that she would just let him finish her off, so he could go back to doing things normally tomorrow. Such a ridiculous little tiff, but now the day was done and they could move on…

Which was why it quite perturbed him when she literally removed his hand from her hip and scooted further away from him.


“No,” she stated firmly, then plucked two big pillows from her side and shoved them in the space between her and Loki. “I’m taking this challenge seriously. You’re only calling it silly because you’re on the verge of losing.”

She gave him a faux smile as she fluffed her wall of pillows and pulled the covers over herself.


For a moment, Loki just held his breath and stared at her covered back...over the pillow fence she’d made between them. Did she...had she just...put a literal barrier between them?

Oh, she really was desperate. A slow smile crept across his lips.

“You know, you’re right. I should be taking this more seriously, shouldn’t I? But I can’t possibly focus on winning when I’m so taken with your charms...and your body...and the noises you make when I touch you…”

He slid his hand down the front of his loose fitted sleep pants. Pushing the waistband down his hips, he freed his erection and wrapped his fingers around it. Shuddering at the sensation of it, he began to pump himself slowly.

“Mmmm, just the thought of putting my lips on your breasts, sucking on your nipples, pulling your naked body close to mine...Oooohh, Iona, you don’t know what the feel of it does to me…”

He made sure to move a bit more roughly than usual, so she couldn’t mistake what he was doing on his side of the bed.


Iona blinked as she heard the timbre of his voice change with those lewd words. That was accompanied by the rustling of fabric and movements on the mattress. 

She turned around to squint at him in the dark, and what she witnessed nearly made her resolve to resist him crumble.

He had pulled his manhood out and was touching himself… utterly shamelessly, while his eyes were staring right at her in challenge. Norns, she wanted to kick him off the bed.

“What are you doing?” she gasped aloud, picking a pillow up to whack him with it. Instead of doing that, though, she clutched it tightly in her trembling hands. “This is not allowed, Loki!”


“Isn’t it?” He breathed roughly as his voice caught just a bit, increasing his pace. “I’m not using any magic, so I don’t see why... oh NORNS…

He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned as he felt that coil of pleasure building at the base of his spine. Well, he was especially talented in the bedroom, and no one could pleasure him better than himself. Not to mention, how it was affecting her...that in itself was a special, arousing satisfaction.

He swallowed thickly and smiled, slowing just a bit so he could continue their conversation simultaneously. Eyes opening again, he trained them back on her as he spoke...

My pleasure was never a part of this bargain. Yours is. I simply can’t use my seidr, that’s all. You made sure of that when I tried to fix my hair this morning. Did you see that lump? Lived with it all day...I’ll probably have to live with it tomorrow too…”


Iona watched him with growing frustration and anger as he kept pleasuring himself, carrying on the conversation as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

Just the view of his long, deft fingers working on that engorged length of his was enough to send some delicious shivers down her spine...

She pressed the pillow to her chest to hide the fact that her nipples were painfully stiff - a dead giveaway of her aroused state. Why she was still looking at him, she didn’t know, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Her heated gaze was practically glued to his aroused flesh...

“You think yourself so smart, as if your little show would turn me around and make me surrender,” she mocked, narrowing her eyes as she realized he was getting closer and closer to his completion. “Go ahead, then, do what boys do in their beds at night. You’re such a slave to the pleasures of sex, my king.”


“I prefer the term ‘connoisseur’ ,” he snarked as his breath became ragged with near completion again. He was quite close now, and he could feel his toes curling and his back arching without him meaning for them to.

Very intentionally, he looked over at her, still peeking over the wall of pillows, his eyes hooded and full of near-overwhelming lust. He grinned, licked his lips, then closed his eyes and let himself release.

He throbbed into his hand, his seed gathering in his palm as a rush of relief and pleasure radiated through him. Moaning unabashedly at the feel of it, he sighed contentedly as he crested over into that warm, lovely post-orgasmic state. With a gentle shudder, he relaxed back into the mattress.

“Much better. Now I’ll certainly be more focused tomorrow.”

He turned and retrieved a handkerchief from his nightstand, cleaning his essence from his hand before turning back to face her one more time. Just to ruffle her feathers some more, he air-kissed in her direction with a wink, then rolling over, letting that warm feeling lead him into slumber.


Iona grumbled unintelligibly and turned around. The image of Loki, lost in his orgasmic haze, was now imprinted in her mind. It was making her restless and putting the instinct to sleep at the end of her priority list.

Needless to say, while Loki settled into an easy slumber beside her, she found it difficult to achieve any kind of rest.

What little sleep she did get through the night was broken by erotic dreams and a sense of emptiness. 

Chapter Text


Bold Text = Loki's POV

Normal Text = Iona's POV

By the time the sun broke across the horizon, Iona was ready to leave the bed in haste. In such a hurry she was that she was out of the bed even before Loki had begun to stir from his sleep.

Once she was beneath the warm spray of the shower, her muscles relaxed and she began to feel much better. But the carnal frustration remained…

Just as she was washing herself, a teasing thought slithered into her psyche and suggested to her that she relieve her frustration right here, in the shower. Loki was still asleep, after all… what he wouldn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him…

And so, with a wee bit of internal struggle over it, Iona gave in. Her hand strayed between her legs and caressed her needy clit…

A desperate moan rose up from her vocal cords, and she had to bite her lip to stifle it. She couldn’t stay quiet completely, but she tried. It was a good thing that her husband was still deep in slumber on their bed.

Breathing heavily under the sprinkling water, she leaned against the cool tiles of the shower and tried to give herself some sexual relief. Her fingers rubbed her clit frantically, almost to the point where it hurt… but she couldn’t reach completion. She kept repeating the movements that were once enough to give her an orgasm… still, it evaded her now.

After minutes of trying and failing, her poor clit was feeling too sensitive and raw and pleasure was nowhere to be found…

Hence, she gave up with a frustrated huff and went back to washing herself.

When she finally exited the shower, she was so busy trying to wrap her hair in a towel that she nearly missed the tall figure leaning against the bathroom door.

When she did notice him, she let out a yelp of surprise.


Loki had never been a deep when she got out of bed, it roused him enough to wonder what she was doing, for wasn’t an early riser. Then, he heard the water running...and he figured she might try to help herself to the relief he had enjoyed the night before.

Of course, if she had an orgasm, that would break their bet. It would mean he would win ...and he couldn’t very well have missed that moment.

He left the bed silently and went to the bathroom door, leaning on the frame and listening to her. He heard the telltale moans and gasps she made when pleasured...and he grinned. As soon as she came, he would burst in, gloat, enjoy his victory, and then FINALLY magic that lump out of his hair!

But as he continued to wait for that now-familiar sound from her… her moans and whimpers became more and more frustrated, more desperate. And even after several minutes, she seemed no closer to achieving her goal.

A wicked smile crossed his face. He’d ruined her - she couldn’t come without him! It took all his will power to keep from laughing out loud as she finally groaned angrily and gave up.

That look on her face when she saw him standing there was a memory he would cherish until his dying day.

“Good morning, sweetling,” Loki said almost too placidly. “Enjoy your shower?”


For a few moments, she was sure that she looked absolutely stricken and guilty. She was too shocked to school her features.

Then, as she read the smirk on his face, she realized that the bastard had been listening in. There was no way for her to pretend that she didn’t just try to pleasure herself; so she just gave up on that charade.

“You know that I did ,” she said in a simpering, acerbic manner as she pushed past him and headed for the dressing room. “Now stop pestering me.”


“Oh, it sounded more like you were trying to get a stubborn stain out of one of your dresses, all that grunting and swearing...didn’t sound pleasant at all, actually. Really Iona, I sometimes think you forget that I’m the God of Lies …”

He followed her, intentionally just a step too close for comfort as she tried to prepare herself for the day.

“You know, I’d be MORE than happy to help you resolve your issue, if only you’d ask me…”


She growled in frustration and tried her best to ignore his annoying presence, even though he was literally breathing down her neck. 

Opening her wardrobe, she began to go through her dresses, pretending to decide which one to wear. It was a new batch, sent in by Willa just the previous week.

As she went on to admire each dress, she hoped that Loki would tire of irritating her and simply move on with his morning ablutions. 

When he didn’t, she grew even more annoyed.

“Loki, it’s not going to happen. Go away.”


With one last snicker, he stepped away. “Oh, it’s going to happen…” he said before making his way to the bathroom again for his own shower.

He washed quickly, eager to catch Iona before she left for the day, and so he wandered back into their dressing room after only a few short minutes, hair wet and a towel around his waist. He gave Iona a flirty wink as he went into his closet.

He looked through the outfits one by one...deciding to skip certain pieces based on how complicated they would be to put on. Unfortunately, as he continued through his wardrobe, the only item he found that he could actually put on by himself was a much-too-gaudy jacket that he didn’t think he had ever even worn.

With a sigh, he grabbed the outfit he wanted and brought it out to the bedroom. NORNS he hated not being able to do magic…

“Um...Iona? Darling? Love of my life?”


Iona was trying to comb through the tangles in her hair when Loki called her out into their bedroom. His words were too sugary sweet and full of affection. It could only mean one thing.

He wanted something from her.

“What is it, dearest husband?” she asked in the same tone that he had used, stepping into the bedroom, her comb still in her grip.

He was standing there in nothing but a small towel, resting precariously low on his hips. It was a mighty distraction, and so, she tried her best to keep her gaze away from his body.


When she turned to face him, he gave her a guilty, pleading look as he held up the clothes, his request obvious.

“Could you, me dress? I can’t seem to get the hang of it. I could call an attendant if you prefer, but I thought I’d ask you first.”

As much as it pained him to have such a ridiculous shortcoming, the only thing that would have hurt him more was if he lost this stupid bet.


She eyed him suspiciously for a moment, wondering if this was some kind of a ploy to get her to touch his glorious form… so that she’d weaken and surrender to his sexual advances. 

One couldn’t put such treachery past him…

But then, as she kept observing him, she noted that he did appear to be a bit sheepish about his predicament. Given how bad he had been about dressing himself yesterday, there was every chance that he was actually struggling here.

“Hmm,” she muttered, throwing her comb onto the bed and approaching him. “At least wear your inners and pants, those aren’t complicated. I’ll take care of the rest.”

She tried to keep her amusement contained, but it still spilled over while he got dressed from the waist down. A little giggle escaped her, because she kept picturing him in his utter incompetence to dress himself… wondering what might’ve happened had she not been there to help him.

Would he have gone around bare-chested…?

He heard her giggle and gave her a pointed look of annoyance. That only made her giggle harder.

“I’m just thinking about the possibilities of you going bare-chested… you know, if I refused to help you.”


For just a split second, he actually considered taking that challenge. He was nothing if not fairly addicted to causing an uproar, and for the King of Asgard to be seen for a day without his shirt ?! Perhaps it would have been expected of Thor, given his scandalous penchant for showing off his bare skin at any opportunity, but Loki was much more modest when it came to exposing least, in public...his own personal proclivities notwithstanding.

But what would it accomplish, other than to rile the court into wondering why? And then there would be questions, and rumors, and, best to avoid all of it.

“If you refused to help me, I would simply call an attendant. Like a normal Allfather.”

He rolled his eyes as she handed him the undershirt and he slipped it over his head, tucking the bottom into his breeches.


Normal? ” she asked with a snort as she picked up the under-jacket and helped him in putting it on. “Is there anything normal about you?”

She shook her head as her hands worked quickly, attaching the buttons of the jacket to his tunic, then reaching for the next piece of the clothing puzzle that was his wardrobe.

“I bet you made your wardrobe so complex out of smugness and overconfidence in your magic. A typical Loki Odinson move.”


“I will neither confirm nor deny that assertion,” he chuckled as he tugged at the fabric to help it lay flat. “Besides, all the nicest outfits are the most complicated. And I was never one to be outdone in the realm of gentlemanly fashion. So there you have it.”

He would never admit it to her, but he found he rather enjoyed having her help him dress. It was a chance for her to show off an expertise he himself did not possess (as he’d handicapped himself early on by using his magic for all things inconvenient or time-consuming)...and of course, having her in close proximity, with her hands flitting all over his body, was a very pleasant sensation.

“Almost done?” He asked, his voice nearly breaking as he tried to compose himself. 


“Y-Yes, almost,” she replied, pressing her palms to his chest after closing in the plackets of his over-jacket. All this touching and hovering about him had been a bit too much for her already frustrated body. 

She was feeling flustered now.

“Just need to add the vambraces and spaulders. You can manage the vambraces, I believe,” she said in a clipped tone as she fitted the spaulders over his shoulders and attached them to his over-jacket.

She tried to pull away from him quickly, then, and made to grab her comb. If he noticed her jumpiness, he didn’t mention it.


As soon as she was done attaching the last pieces of his outfit, he noted that she was going to move away. To halt her in her tracks, he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her in closely.

“Thank you, darling. I feel like a new man.”

He brought his forehead to hers and looked deep into her eyes, clearly seeing her desire there. If only he could persuade her…

“Might I give you a kiss, as a sign of my gratitude?”


She grasped her comb tightly in her hands as he held her, knowing that this was most likely a trap. He knew the effect his lips had on her, after all.

Oh, but what a delicious trap it was…

“Only a kiss?” she asked, raising her eyebrow in doubt. “Nothing else? Don’t try to play dirty with me, Loki.”


“Only a kiss, I promise. A simple, chaste kiss, and nothing more.”

He watched the conflict dance in her eyes, and it thrilled him. He loved seeing her battle with her own made his job that much easier.

“May I, sweetling?”


She gave him a hesitant nod, her eyes helplessly gravitating to his lips… his soft, sensual lips.


And then she closed her eyes and tilted her face up to receive the said simple and chaste kiss.


And that was all he did. The kiss was soft, gentle, and sweet, if not just a touch lingering.

Then, he pulled back and released her, squinting his eyes in a playful way, as if to say, What? You really thought you couldn’t trust me?

“Thank you again, my queen. Now I believe we both have duties to attend to, but I’ll see you at the court dinner tonight.”

He strode to the door, and was just about to leave when he turned back to her.

“Oh, and Iona?”


“Yes?” She turned towards him as he stood by the door. She hated the fact that she sounded a bit too eager for her own good.

Focus, Iona… and not on the wrong things.

“What is it?”


“I am so looking forward to the moment I can dive between your legs and devour your sweet cunt until you’re cumming like a vixen in heat,” he growled, staring her down with the most hungry, predatory look he could manage.

Then, he winked and left the room to go attend to his daily tasks, hoping that he had shocked her enough to be able to get away without her following him around like she had the day before.


Iona gasped aloud at his prurient words, flushing red right up to her chest. So lost was she in that picture he had just painted, that she all but forgot about her aim to accompany him all day.

“Loki!” she cried out as she finally returned to her senses, rushing after him. “I am to go along with you! Did you forget that I need to attend court with you?”


His shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes. Damn, the woman was persistent…

But when he turned back to face her, his expression bore nothing but the brightest smile he could muster.

“You know, I almost had! Thank you for reminding me darling. I’m certain there will be many opportunities for us to discuss matters pertaining to the success and well-being of the Nine Realms...though, perhaps you should change out of your robe first...”

He chuckled as she realized she had rushed out of their chambers wearing nothing but her silk bathrobe, hair still a tangled mess upon her head.

“You know, I could fix that in a jiffy if only I could use my magic - it would take no time at all. Alas, I can’t, for obvious reasons.” He pretended to look sad as he spoke. “ But , I suppose I’ll just have to meet you in the throne room once you’ve finished dressing for the day. I’ll see you then - mustn’t keep the subjects waiting.”


She grasped his forearm just as he was about to pull away from her again. She held onto him hard as she pressed her body into his, looking up at him with her deliberately widened doe-eyes.

“The court doesn’t assemble for another half-an-hour, my lord husband,” she said in a sultry, though hushed tone, minding the sentries nearby. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to help me dress? Since you’re sad about not being able to help me with your famed magic, you can at least help me the regular way, hmm?”


Loki kept that smile plastered on his face as she looked up at him, feeling his cock twitch at the obvious desperation in her eyes and voice. How much longer would she keep this up?!


Finally, he just sighed, relenting to the situation. “Of course, dear. I'd be happy to.”

With that, he let her drag him back to their chambers, where he was fairly certain he would be given the tedious task of combing out the leagues long hair of hers…

He hated even combing his own hair the regular way...


“Choose a dress for me, dear,” she said as she brought him back to the dressing room, a smug smile playing on her lips. “And after that, would you please untangle my hair? I could call in the attendants, but I’d prefer the touch of your nimble hands.”

She opened her wardrobe for his benefit, and then she took a deep, fortifying breath and opened the sash of her bathrobe, knowing full well that his eyes were on her.

“Oh don’t mind me, I’m just putting on my inners.”


“You haven’t even chosen a dress yet? What were you doing the whole time I was in the shower—”

He stopped as the robe fell in a pile at her feet, and his eyes were glued to that perfect ass of hers. How long had it been since he’d last enjoyed the feel of her quim around him…?

A day. It had been just over one full day.

Loki grabbed the first dress his hand fell upon, barely looking at it, and brought it to her.

“You know, I really do think it would be best to get an attendant to comb your hair. In fact, I’ll go get—”

She was in his face the minute he looked back at her, and she had the comb pressed into his hand. He had to force himself not to growl at her. I’ll give her a few more minutes, just a few more…

It took nearly the entire half hour to comb out her thigh-length locks, and by the time he was done, his nerves were frayed. the NINE REALMS...did she manage all that hair?! Everyday?! Without magic?! They were almost late for court, it took so long, but (Loki noted with some pride), her hair looked DAMN good when they arrived.

And he hoped he’d never have to do that again.


Iona was feeling pretty self-satisfied while she observed the court proceedings with her usual poise and grace. Brief glances at her husband told her that she had been very successful in her endeavour to annoy and arouse him.

He couldn’t pleasure himself here, or even for the rest of the day to take that carnal edge off.

Now, they were both at a level playing field, at least.

Every time Loki looked her way, she gave him an overtly sweet, warm smile. Only he knew that it was anything but sweet. It was a smile of cruel satisfaction.

She continued her little charade all through the day, watching his annoyance rising with each passing hour. Oh, it was fun to watch him yearn for his magic, and then some more whenever he looked like he was burning with arousal while surrounded by people…


By the time dinner came around… Loki. Was. Done.

Two full days of Iona following him around like a school marm, being subjected to the most tedious tasks, and not being able to use his seidr had taken its toll on him. His thoughts were jumbled, and he could only focus either on how inconvenient something was, or on how he wanted to bend Iona over and have his way with her.

But he was not going to lose, not after all the aggravation and struggle he’d suffered at her hand.

He resolved to win this little battle and end it quickly. At dinner, which tonight was a larger gathering of nobles they had brought in to discuss the use of the forest lands on the outskirts of the Capital, he secretly passed a note to a page when Iona was distracted, requesting certain items to be brought to their chambers with the utmost discretion.

Then...his mood changed. Instantly, he began interacting with Iona on much more friendly terms, smiling and holding her hand and being so very affectionate. 

The thought of his upcoming revenge had significantly improved his demeanor.