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A Kingdom for Loki	By : marksandspence Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Thor Views: 2673 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is based in the Marvel Universe as depicted on film in the Avengers, Thor and Thor: The Dark World. I do not own or profit from the use of these characters.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Chapter 3
Months go by. Del is busy training her guard and the soldiers; their initial successes met with an infusion of military advisors from their Olympian allies. The army grows.
Returning one evening from a training camp, she quickly bathes and attends to the children so she can find Loki. She is frustrated to be told he is in a meeting with advisors. She paces the hallway, debating where to wait for him. Finally, they begin to emerge from the hall, Loki’s expression dark and formal, as it always is when he is dealing with the drudgery of the Kingdom. She had meant to tuck herself out of sight around the corner to facilitate a less formal encounter, but one of the advisors catches sight of her and launches into a stylized greeting. This is promptly followed by an inquiry into the state of the army, during which Del betrays her annoyance with curt responses and thin lips. The man speaking to her is named Doreius, who, having a mind that jumps quickly to conspiracy, would take her reluctance to engage in conversation as a sign of some mischief or another. With this in mind, she catches herself and speaks more directly to the questions asked, resisting the urge to make up some excuse or other for her abruptness. Excessive detail is always a giveaway of subterfuge. So she takes a breath and does her duty. The new recruits are assimilating well. She is narrowing down her choice for General. Yes, she will consider Faoenos, a veteran from Doreius’ home Kingdom, etc. etc.
After some time, she is finally able to steal a glance toward Loki and is instantly relieved to see the gloom faded and replaced by that familiar twinkle in his eye. He does not approach, but moments later, she feels a cool pressure run up the side of her leg as if a hand were winding its way under her dress. She leans back slightly to test his presence and sure enough, feels the compression of his body on her back, though still invisible to the other men around her. When the advisors finally leave, he disappears the projection and visually occupies the true position of his physical form. She turns to face him.
“I thought they would never leave,” she says, giving him a conspiratorial look.
“And I’d thought you had begun to favor the sweat and dank of the training fields,” he chides.
Pulling away slightly, she responds, “An unpleasant, but necessary delay, I assure you.”
Loki turns and begins to walk, taking gentle hold of Del’s hand as he does so. He leads her around a corner and twirls her until her back is pressed against the wall. He leans forward as if to kiss her, but then inhales and pulls back.
“Why did you send Kleio to me?”
Del cannot completely suppress a smirk as she answers with feigned innocence, “To inform you of my delay, my Lord. She is one of my fastest runners.”
“And you also bid her to undress for me?”
“Did you not find her attractive? I was confident you would. Those legs are to die for,” she says with continued playfulness.
He frowns just enough to express real irritation, “A test, then? I nearly bedded her out of spite.”
“Why didn’t you, then?” She asks, curious to hear his answer.
“Too much effort,” he shrugs.
She shakes her head, clearly frustrated, “That was my actual intention – I wanted you to fuck her.”
“To what end?” He asks, skeptical.
“I had been away a while, I was going to be delayed further. I thought you could use a release. I was being thoughtful.”
“Thoughtful? Since when are women thoughtful in this way?”
Gauging his response, she decides to relent. “Perhaps I wasn’t being entirely unselfish. I saw it as an opportunity to demonstrate for you the uniqueness of our chemistry.”
“That confident, are you? Or did you give her specific instructions?”
“No need for that. If you’d taken her like you were supposed to, you’d know,” she says, reaching up to touch his neck.
Still resisting a kiss, Loki’s voice softens. “You misunderstand me, wife. This is not something I need,” he says, moving even closer, millimeters from her lips. “It is something I want. There is a difference.”
He closes the distance to nibble on her lip before turning away and leading her quickly in the direction of his bedchamber. By choice or by influence, the nature of their encounter differs depending on which bedchamber they end up in; assuming they make it to either. His, and their passion is more violent, more explicitly physical; the kind of sex where the desire to crawl inside the other person leads to the exquisitely desperate tearing of flesh. It is all teeth and nails and screams and blood. Not torture, not submission or anything fitting a particular fetish; just a wilder sort of abandonment and escape.
Hers, and it is sweaty and long and focused on the titillation of every nerve ending. It is wet and messy and filled with challenges of stamina and exhibitions of pleasure. Both are equally enjoyed, but simply spring from different precursors. Oddly, they rarely plan where to go and have yet to disagree. This night, they start in one and end in the other….
When they arrive in his room, he rips at her clothes, enjoying the sound of tearing cloth. He kisses her lips greedily, pushing her toward the bed as they continue to disrobe each other, with a tenuous balance between fumbling and finesse, passion and restraint. She had taught him restraint or at least introduced him to the concept of prolonging.
They crawl onto the bed, now in only their cloth underclothes. She pushes him onto his back so she can straddle him. She runs her hands over the fine muscles of his chest, leaning forward to kiss him. His hands grab for her breasts, her nipples hard and sensitive to his touch. She grinds against his erection, direct contact still inhibited by cloth. She breaks away from the kiss to say, breathless,
“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”
And she means it, which is all the more terrifying. She has wondered, now and then, why this is so. He is not like the other men she has desired. He is nothing like Colonel Waring, about whom she’d fantasized for years. He was neither technically more skilled when they first became intimate, nor more physically perfect than those she found satisfyingly adequate back in the day. She tells herself it is not the menace in his eyes; the obvious malice that comes from any perceived slight; the undercurrent of fear. All of these things exist, but she has never before found such things a source of infatuation, of longing, of excitement. There is something else, something emergent…
He wants to believe her declaration. At first it seemed of no consequence if she were feigning or not, but at some point he began to pay attention. Could he be fooled? Perhaps, he consented, due to lack of experience in these matters. In truth, he had spent more time than he would ever admit contemplating this question; researching in his own way, assessing. In the end, he had become comfortable with the belief that her passion was genuine; she was duly vulnerable, slave to her desires. And yet, perhaps it is in her nature to always be so, with anyone.
“Including my brother?” He is unable to stop himself from asking.
She responds without a moment of hesitation, “You brother was a passing fancy, easily sated. You set me on fire.”
He smiles at this, though can’t help but think he would like it more if his brother were forced to hear. He flips her over and demands,
“Show me.”
*
Sometime later, in Del’s chamber, they finally separate, sweaty and spent.
Loki reclines to watch her pull a short tunic over her head, sweeping her long black hair to the side. “You are truly a siren – no woman has ever distracted me so. I could live inside your cunt.”
Del laughs at this. “As my legs, my bedchamber is always open to you. It seems a pity to reside at opposite ends of the castle when there is plenty of room here.”
Ignoring the implication, Loki reaches for a goblet only to find it empty.
“More wine,” Del calls out to the assumed servants. “And bring the salve.”
A servant arrives almost immediately, pouring wine in their cups and handing Del a bowl of a creamy substance. Del moves to face Loki’s back and begins to rub the salve into the deep scratch marks in his back.
He flinches, “You need not bother with that. I heal quickly.”
“You weren’t touched much as a child, were you?” She teases his reluctance.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You recoil from physical contact.”
“Ah, is that what I have been doing for the third time today?” He mocks.
“Never mind. I’m almost done,” she sighs.
In truth, it is only ever the idea of the touch that makes him pull back. Once hands are on him, he is quite pleased.
As she continues to rub the creamy substance into the remnants of the disappearing scratches, she asks casually, “why does your skin change color?”
“Does it?” He responds without discernable surprise, though his voice is low and measured.
“It turns a rather deep blue. Based on the timing, I have come to see it as a sign of your particular…enjoyment.”
“Do you find it displeasing?” he asks with caution, instantly wishing he hadn’t.
“It is the form I like; the color is of little consequence,” she responds warmly.
Loki takes a moment to consider before speaking.
“You know I am not Asgardian by birth? You guessed it the first time we met.”
She makes an acknowledging sound, though it had never been explicitly confirmed.
“My fa… Odin thought it best I blend in. And once I came to understand the necessary magic, I continued the illusion. Only, I suppose there are moments when I lose my concentration.” He says this last line almost sweetly, as if he would blush. She responds by leaning forward and giving his neck a soft bite. He reaches back and touches her hair.
The moment of apparent tenderness is fleeting. Quickly, Del pulls away and moves to put down the salve on the table and hand Loki a shirt. As she is doing this, he says,
“Nurse asks if we are trying for more heirs.”
Del nods at the implication. She kneels down across from him, grabbing a chalice from the table.
She responds without emotion, “Wouldn’t be wise, as a different child would raise suspicion. It isn’t a worry now, but once the twins are weaned, I’ll ask about how to stop it. Women always know such things, even here.”
He nods, satisfied with both her answer and her tone.
After a moment, she takes a bunch of grapes from the table, popping one in her mouth. A rather devilish expression flashes across her face.
“How do you feel about taking this to the next level?” She asks, cryptically.
Frowning his confusion, he replies, “We are already bound in marriage, so…you mean physically?”
He says this part with such a deep, piercing look of anticipation that she nearly drops her wine as her mouth goes dry imagining what sort of ‘next level’ he could be envisioning. She shakes off the thought, banishing the quickly developing ache between her legs.
“I was referring to more practical matters,” she says with a hint of disappointment.
He leans backward at this and takes a drink. “Explain yourself, woman. I am in no mood to play guessing games.”
“We are close to conquering all the kingdoms of this moon – I think it will be ours within the month, they fall so quickly to any show of strength. But what then? I think we need to take all of them – the other moons,” she responds with rehearsed seriousness.
He frowns slightly, working out her possible motivations. “I appreciate your lust for power, I do, but we have no ships, no means to transport an army to another world.” He adds, tepidly, “I suppose we might be able to bargain…” This is all such a departure from his plan – his long-term strategy, that he finds the potential distraction of it irritating.
“What about a portal? Could you not open one up to allow an army to pass?” She asks with excitement.
He nods reluctantly, “such deeds are possible, but require a source of power unavailable to me now.”
“What if it wasn’t…unavailable, that is?” She responds with a twinkle.
“Didn’t your mother teach you it is not nice to tease?” Loki says, his irritation fading.
Never tease a weasel, she remembers to herself. “What if I knew how to get your scepter back? The one you used to open a portal to Earth? Could we use that?”
He sits up at this suggestion, unable to hide his interest.
“How do you know of this?” He blurts.
“I was on the team, remember? Not during your attempted invasion, but there are reports and such,” she answers without emotion.
A wave of anger sweeps through him at the memory of his defeat. And for her to speak so freely of his humiliation, links the anger to her. She can see him tense, so she quickly says,
“You know there are more than twelve thousand species of ant? There are slave making ants, army ants, fire ants, bullet ants?”
He barely hears her, so wrapped up he is in himself and his fury. Her words just scratch the surface and he responds, “What? I don’t see…”
“I am told you referred to the residents of Earth as ants. Well, you weren’t wrong. As one of them, I can attest to the analogy. However, the characterization leads to the inevitable question of why the fuck would you want to rule over a planet full of ants? They are an unruly, nasty, vengeful and crafty lot of creatures that are incapable of sustained cooperation between them. Better to rule the moons of Olympus; perhaps Olympus itself?” She says this, holding fast to her carrot.
Loki nods, her words acting like the salve she had put on his back moments before.
He shrugs as if to explain, “I was unaware of their unpalatability, taken as a whole.”
Having assuaged his insecurity, she continues, “In any case, the scepter is still on Earth and I know where. We’d need some help getting it, but that will be easy enough to arrange.”
The anger dissipated, his mind jumps to the possibilities – this could change everything.
“How do you know?” He asks.
“I came across some information. By accident, really. Does it matter?”
“But how could you get such information here. Unless…” Loki eyes her suddenly with suspicion.
Taking his implication, Del responds defensively, “Gods, it’s nothing like that. I just go there sometimes, to see my Dad and my Gran. It was really lonely here in the beginning. Where did you think I got all those books?”
“What books?” he stammers.
“You really pay no attention to me outside of the bedroom, do you? The books in the library on military strategy and monarchies? We’ve talked about them.”
“Oh, those books,” he acknowledges, conjuring some vague memory. “But how can you go there? It’s across the universe.”
“There’s a portal. Aries showed me. They were all supposed to be closed, but he likes to stir trouble, so he hid a wee one from Athena. He showed me how to use it.”
Feeling a twinge of jealousy erupt, he asks, “and why would he do that?”
“He’s a bit of a sucker for a girl with a sword, frankly. And I may have blackmailed him a tiny bit,” Del says with a wink.
“So you just pop back to Midguard whenever you want. For a cup of tea with your grandmother? And during one such visit, you just happened to find out what happened to my scepter?”
“Close enough. Again, certain channels are still open. And we can use that to our advantage. I have a plan,” she says, squaring her shoulders.
“Why should I trust you? Or, perhaps more to the point, why should you trust me?”
She had anticipated this. She lifts her head and responds, “I’m no fool. I have given this a lot of thought. I have run all the various scenarios and cannot come up with a legitimate reason why either of us should not work together. We are both trapped here, against our will. And yet, we both have nothing to gain by abandoning our current situation. What would I gain by delivering you to the Avengers? Such a captive would give them no advantage. And without you, I am considerably more vulnerable here. You may have your issues on Asgard, but they are mostly hidden here – you are King and they would not view betrayal as a virtue in their new Queen. And as for you, your marriage to me legitimizes you – keeps you out of prison. As the presumed father of the heirs, you must be welcomed. Leave too soon and you are a criminal – an enemy. And you cannot count any allies of Thanos as your friends. Here you have some power to build from; some support. It follows that whatever power I procure for you would work to my benefit.”
Loki takes another long drink from his goblet. He tilts his head to the side and says, “Lets hear this plan of yours, then.”
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A Kingdom for Loki