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Nú Brennur Tú I Mer	By : Gwyndolynelizabeth Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Thor Views: 3664 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from this story, or from the Thor/Avengers fandom. it is all owned by Marvel and I am not making any money off of writing or publishing this story.

Chapter List
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“I will come again…” Her voice was soft, whispering a sweet melody.
The day was bright, and birds sang in the trees, and the scent of the salty seas hung in the air. Tall wheat grass bent in the wind that was warm with spring; Loki held out his hand, feeling the soft grass against his palm, and chewed a piece between his teeth, tasting how sweet it was. His mind was lost in obsession, for it had been nigh a fortnight since he had seen the woman from far away, and naught but the memory of her face, of her loving body, and grasping touch gave him any satisfaction, though it was little, even so. The clamor of sword upon shield and of merry cries rent his thoughts.
Loki glanced up from the swaying dance of wheat grass beneath his outstretched fingers, to watch Thor tackle Volstag and the two of them exchange blows that would kill mortal men, yet only served to fuel their adrenaline. Thor, The Warriors Three, and Sif were training for combat, but what should have been a matter to take into full care and caution was nothing more than an outlet for the group of hearty friends to jest and play, as though they were children. Loki fingered a silver dagger, flipping the delicate blade across his fingers, idly watching his brother parade amongst his friends—their laughter was endless, and their volume irksome. But Loki begrudged them not too greatly their gaudy rambunctiousness, for it was only their nature. He kept to himself, as he had always done, smiling occasionally when Thor looked his way, not inclined to join their frolicking.
“Why do you keep to yourself so?” Thor asked, running to his brother at last, though Loki sighed and feigned amusement at merely watching for the day.
“Have I not always done so when all of you are—“Loki suffered a glance at the warriors three and Sif who were laughing, but slinging their weapons at each other as if they were wholeheartedly fighting. “Training.” He finished, still flipping the silver dagger across his fingers.
Thor furrowed his brow, though his leonine smile never faded, and he scoffed. “Indeed, Loki,” He returned, “But it has been a fortnight since I, or anyone, have seen you partake in aught else but daydreaming. Where is your mind these past weeks?”
“Safe from your prying.” Loki sighed, but he chuckled—a reassuring sound, he thought, but Thor was still not content with his answer. The elder brother cast his hammer to the ground and sat beside the younger upon the grass, eyeing him with unfaltering care. Of all that irked Loki about Thor, he could not deny that his brother cared, and he cared for his brother as well. “I have an obsession, it seems.” Loki chuckled again, but he looked out over the field to the sea, and his chuckled faded early.
“An obsession?” Thor pried, “What obsession is this, brother? Tell me, that I might help settle your mind.” And Loki scoffed.
“I very much doubt that you could ease my mind, however well you mean.”
“What is your obsession?” Thor asked again. Loki hesitated, glancing at his brother, who was grinning and watching his face eagerly. Loki sighed, fighting back a grin when the woman from far away danced across the view of his mind’s eye, but such a longing was there in his breast that when he saw the light of her eyes and felt the touch of her ruby lips against his skin, even within the confines of his memory, he was overwhelmed and a notable anxiety overcame him, which he felt. Thor could see it, Loki knew, and cursed his own weakness for the strange woman.
“A woman?” Thor prodded Loki’s side with his elbow, still grinning, and Loki had to nod, for he was right.
“But I will say nothing of her,” Loki said quietly. “for she is but a woman-- though she is under no command of Asgard and I have not the power to call her to me when I will.”
“Who is not under the command of Asgard and its princes, yet is not a mortal?” Thor scoffed, again.
“I know not.” Loki answered. “Neither do I know whence this woman came, nor whither did she go. Her name is as much of a mystery as these things.”
“You bedded this woman?”
“Yes, a fortnight ago.”
“Ah! I thought I heard the cries of a woman’s lust resounding from your chamber then!” Thor laughed and slapped Loki’s shoulder heartily. “Well done brother! Well done, indeed!” and with that, he leapt to his feet and took up his hammer, going once more into the fray of his friends sporting against each other. Loki shook his head, flipping his dagger over his fingers—such was the attention span of his brother, sometimes.
Thor raised his voice loud and cried to Loki: “Come brother, for but a moment, show Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three the accuracy of your arm! Or, has it been so long since you last trained with us that you have lost your prowess and skill in battle?”
Loki laughed, finally rising to his feet. But he moved as swift as lightning when it cracks across a cloudy sky, and flung from his fingers the silver dagger with the keenness of a stone from a slingshot, so that it whistled through the air and stuck in the shield of Volstag with a resounding twang. In another second Loki drew another dagger, and another, and they too whistled through the air and stuck in Volstag’s shield, in direct alignment with the first.
“Shall I throw my spear?” Loki taunted, but uproar of hearty laughter told him there was no need, for he had impressed them. He was swifter of foot and hand than all of them, and they knew it well.

Loki thought of what he would say to the woman if she did indeed return as she said she would. He thought that he would bid her to stay with him, tell him her name and origin, as he had asked before, and he would persuade her to pass the morning with him. He knew that it was within his power to do so once she had come to him. A third visit would be her last, and he would make her his own, forever, as he well ought to, he deemed.
For the entirety of the past fortnight, Loki had searched the wind for the smell of sweet flowers, and most nights he had laid awake into the early hours of the morning, waiting for moonlight to filter through his windows when there should have been none at all. He listened for her sweet voice, or the sound of jewelry like bells, for these things and those preceding he knew to be signs of her coming.
--His woman from far away. Soon she would dwell in Asgard and be forever the object of his desire, and he of her passion. He no longer asked himself why he felt so strongly the way he did for her, for he had resigned himself to the torture of her gaze upon his mind, and such sweet torture it was. Loki went to his balcony and looked out over the sea, and up, into the stars that were beginning to light themselves as torches in the black sky that was their world. The wind blew across his face, and it was cool with the oncoming of night. He sought the moon, but it was nowhere to be found, for it was new and would not light Asgard that night. His heart sank when he saw this; for perhaps the woman would not come that night…perhaps she would never come again.
“I will come again…” Her voice was soft, whispering a sweet melody.
“Come now.” He murmured, but the plea was hardly loud enough to be heard, even by him, and there came no answer. Loki’s heart was filled with longing, but this feeling was unfamiliar to him, and he was irked at himself for feeling it, especially when there was nothing he could do to distract his desire or satiate his lust.
Loki moved quickly from the balcony and drew the curtains to his window so that he could not see the night outside. But he could still feel the wind, and it rustled the curtains, making them dance. He laid himself down, and covered his eyes with his hand, pressing and pressing until he could not see the woman’s eyes but only stars.
Then, he caught the scent of sweet flowers, and his heart began to race, for they were the flowers upon the breath of the strange woman. He opened his eyes but saw no one. Was he going mad? He wondered, but he would be damned if a woman would drive him to madness. So, he closed his eyes again.
“I will come again…” The melodic words rang not only in his head, but seemed to dance through his chamber as if they were spoken there within. A second time he opened his eyes. He saw no one, but the curtain to the balcony beyond his chamber was drawn aside. The wind blew it thus, Loki reasoned with himself, for the woman he longed for was not invisible. He turned himself in bed so that he lay upon his side, and closed his eyes, fighting for sleep or the temporary peace of mind which sleep brought to him.
Tiny, delicate fingers traced their way over his side and a gentle, warm hand laid upon his shoulder…Loki looked, and his heart beat furiously for there beside him was his woman, looking into his eyes with all the warmth of the sun, smiling softly to herself. She was, apparently, amused by his shock. He turned to face her fully and she laid his head upon her lap, caressing his brow with the tantalizing warmth of her fingertips, smiling sweetly, saying not a word. Her eyes were like starlight, and he thought that her very skin shone with the light of the moon, though it was faint, for the moon was hidden that night. She hummed some sweet song in her throat, but her humming was identical to the sound of a nightingale in the distance.
Loki reached up and touched her cheek with his hand, and smiled. “Where have you come from?” He asked, twining tendrils of hair around his fingers.
The woman looked over her shoulder at the dark night sky and sighed. “I come from far away.” She answered at length.
“Tell me, lady, I pray you.” Loki pulled her face to his and she kissed him softly, letting her lips linger upon his.
“I can tell no one.” She said, her lips moving against his, the scent of the flowers on her breath intoxicating to him. “For, if I tell you, I would forever be your prisoner.”
“I wish it were so.” Loki grinned, biting her lip tenderly. She giggled-- the sound was like the running of stream water.
“I do not, dear prince,” She returned. “For then I could dance no more.” She kissed him, trailing her kisses from his lips to his neck. The feeling of her lips against his skin set Loki aflame, as it had done before.
“I dance from star to star, from green land to flowery vale, within and without time. I pull the moon behind me upon a silver cord, while the sun goes before me upon a golden rope and I dance between them. I am the light of the moon and sun, for the light is alive and breathes as you do, and sees, and loves, and when I find a place that is beautiful to dwell, I take the form of this woman you see before you. Then my toes can touch the grass and feel it wet between them, or I can feel the heat of a man’s skin beneath these fingertips—but, I have no heart dancing in my breast, which I might give to you. I am light, and, in my truest form, I am with you always, but to bind me to you would be to rob this boundless universe of light.”
Loki pulled away, searching the woman’s sweet face for a coy smile or some expression to alert him that she spoke only in jest. At first, he smiled, but then his smile faded. The woman bent her brow to his, and lingered there, gazing into his eyes, which he could not close when she looked so deep within them. In her eyes, he saw the twinkling of stars, but not in a metaphorical sense—he saw stars as real, and bright, and beautiful as they shone in the night sky, burning like a sea of points of light, unfathomable in depth or vastness in the expanse of her gaze.
The woman released him from her gaze, and rose from his bed, walking slowly on weightless feet toward the window. Clouds of gossamer floated around her body, glistening with starlight. She opened the curtains, and turned back to him, bidding him with her eyes to join her, and, willingly, he obeyed. Stifled for a time was his lust for her and in its place was a wonder for the mystery that surrounded her, and the desire to know her mind, and how life gifted itself to her.
The woman smiled upon him, and her cheeks shone with light. “I have seen your heart.” She said. “There resides sadness, and anger.”
Loki looked away, to the floor, to his hands, anywhere but her knowing eyes. “What of it?”
There was a long silence, wherein the woman sat herself on the window sill, closing her eyes in revelry when the night wind blew upon her skin. Through her peaceful smile, she said: “I have loved you, dear prince.”
“And I you.” Loki’s voice was weak, but he met her gaze, and his words only caused her smile to widen. She laughed, the watery sound seeping from her ruby lips like a song. Her milky arm reached out for him, and he took her hand, and she pulled him to her, kissing his lips with such sweetness that it melted his heart completely. Once more, she nestled her brow against his, and kissed the tip of his nose. Such love ebbed from her breast, that it seemed to drown Loki, and he gasped for breath, but smiled faintly.
“You have been loved by light, sweet prince.” The woman sighed, her smile fading to solemnity. “The darkness that lies within you is not so black, not so far reaching that it has grasped your soul. As time passes, you will forget me, but heed not the darkness that will call you to submission—always remember the light in my kiss, in my love, and you will never be completely lost.”
She kissed him, and his heart swelled with an ocean of love, but when he opened his eyes, she was gone.
That is all there is to this tale.
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Nú Brennur Tú I Mer