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A Kingdom for Loki	By : marksandspence Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Thor Views: 2672 -:- 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.

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Title: A Kingdom for Loki
Author: Mad (marksandspence@yahoo.com)
Setting: Post Thor: The Dark World
Rating: Mild NC-17
Summary: Loki tells the story of how his arranged marriage to an Olympian queen was (eventually) consummated.
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. I have thrown in some characters of my own creation and a few from established mythology.
Feedback: As always, feedback is much appreciated.
Author’s Note: Actually this can be thought of either as a teaser for a much longer story involving these characters (you will see lots of exposition and references to events not depicted elsewhere in the known Marvel Universe; that is because this is the only written part of a sprawling story that is mostly in my mind) OR as a one-off so we can all enjoy a sex scene involving Loki. If you are interested in reading more of this story, let me know and I will continue it. Otherwise, just sit back and enjoy the imagery. Oh, and the rest of the story would not be told from Loki’s perspective. I was just playing around with that….
A Kingdom for Loki
“Do you want to touch me?” She asked, rather casually one afternoon, drying herself with a towel after her regular swim. By then, I did rather desperately. Unlike the first time she had asked when I was stricken only with a suspicious curiosity.
It is true that I had not thought of her in that way for the first many months after we were stranded on that remote moon, the home to hybrids and miscreants. I believe she used to refer to it as the land of misfit toys, a reference to some childhood tale of which I was unfamiliar. Easy to see the humor in it now; less so then, when the nature of my imprisonment had merely shifted from locked cells to banishment. Still, there was freedom to plot, despite the pathetic surveillance my brother had employed consisting of a spy and a handful of Asgardian soldiers. Useful to let him think he had some control over the situation he had created, bolstered by a curious combination of hopefulness and shame.
“Do you want to touch me?” She had asked.
“Do you want me to?” I responded, only mildly curious.
“I don’t mind,” she shrugged with a passive smile.
“What’s the fun in that?” I declared with a grin.
She frowned predictably at the implication and my attention was thereby quickly dissipating when she spoke again with just enough mischief in her voice to slow my exit.
“Some might say we aren’t properly married.”
“And why would that matter?”
“Because if it were discovered that the children are not yours, the only access you have to the throne of Asgard is as my husband. Children cannot rule on their own.”
At this point, I could not help but be mildly impressed as she spoke these words with a brilliant balance of calculation and sensuality.
“You have given this seduction some thought. Shall I be flattered?” I tease.
She is objectively attractive, I suppose in that rather obvious Olympian way. Her features strong and dark, her skin smooth, her body pleasingly tall, her hips round, her breasts full. She’s not Aphrodite, but there is a resemblance in form. Adeline has an athleticism, a stature that catches the eye. Still, she is far from a worthy companion – a human/Olympian half-breed! Insulting, really, for a son of Odin. Given to me because she was not good enough for Thor.
What was that she had said to him when they’d first met? “I have never seduced for gain, only for pleasure.”
Back then she was trying to talk me out of killing her and the seduction she was referring to was my brother’s. I must admit to finding her assessment of his intellectual limitations endearing. “I imagine you are aware that honorable as he may be, your bother is not the sharpest tool in the shed and frankly it was not exactly a major challenge to satisfy my curiosity. But that is all it was. I had no interest in this,” she said gesturing around her.
Even then, heavy with child and sick as a dog, she had been able to distill the situation to its elements. “Wouldn’t you rather embarrass your brother than agree to do the dirty work they wouldn’t let themselves be sullied with? The freedom they’ve promised you won’t last a minute once Odin awakes.” Whether or not she was right ultimately is beyond the point, her verbal resourcefulness was enough to pique my interest. Not that killing her was completely off the table, but if it became necessary it would be on my own terms.
“Do you want to touch me?” She says, the words wriggling themselves into my mind, replaying at will
“What makes you think I might?” I ask the next time.
“You’ve been watching me swim. Sometimes you take the form of the guard,” she says, nodding in the direction of Orgell. I wonder how she could tell. Sometimes I miss a detail here and there, but most never notice.
“I am simply fascinated by the futility of it. Back and forth, back and forth. To what end?” I answer, mocking her endeavors.
I watch her frown slightly as she chooses her words. I decide to interrupt her.
“You had the servants spy on me. Why?”
“Like you don’t have spies watching me,” she retorts, deflecting.
The funny thing is that I do not. I have not considered it necessary. I suppose it is better to let her think I care enough.
“I certainly do not employ chamber maids to report on your bedroom habits,” I scold.
I think I may see a blush in her cheeks at this.
“How else am I supposed to know what you like?” She answers with a frustrated smile.
“And what did you find out?”
“Absolutely nothing. That’s why I decided to just ask,” she responds with obvious frankness.
“Not much of a seduction, then. I am disappointed. I thought you were a master. Or so you said.”
She answers my insult with mild frustration, “Why does it seem like you are accusing me of something when you say that. I haven’t the faintest idea how to seduce you, so there is no treachery here.”
“Am I so different from your many other conquests?”
She only briefly contemplates her answer, looking off to the side. “Yes. Entirely.”
Is this flattery? Is this the seduction? She must suspect my thoughts, as she shakes her head and briskly leaves the room with a deep sigh. I let her go.
I am not sure of the precise moment when she ceased to be invisible to me, ceased to be only a pawn (though a pawn she most definitely remains). The first months she was pregnant and ailing, therefore easy to ignore. Then the babies came and I can’t be bothered with any of that nonsense. Of course we attended functions together, once she was recovered. That’s the thing about being made a royal couple, even in the outer fringe of civilization. You are expected to keep up appearances and the eyes of the Olympic realm were passively upon us, mostly as a curiosity. We had been given a minor kingdom and expected to actually pretend it was something more. Failing to do so would have ruined the charade and likely landed me back in prison or worse. I have a plan, of course. Vague at the moment, but coming together as I bide my time.
In any case, I do recall an event during which I was so bored and mortified by having to feign respect for our so-called “peers”, the other ruling families in the region, that I set to orchestrating a rather clever little farce, manipulating their interactions in a subtle enough way to leave them unaware of the sorcery involved. Adeline saw through it and instead of chastising like most would, she laughed. I even let her make suggestions. So I suppose it started then and continued. She was keen to acknowledge the absurdity with humored grace and was not bothered by my mischief. I might even go so far as to say she enjoyed it, acting as a playmate of sorts.
Despite this playfulness, it has become obvious to me that Del takes our reign here quite seriously. She acts the Queen and even shows some ambition, bless. She has taken it upon herself to attempt to raise and train a proper Guard, recruiting first using athletic competitions then expanding to more practical contests of swordsmanship and archery. Needless to say the plebs were rather unenthusiastic at first, content with their aging soldiers with no ambition toward glory or enthusiasm for serving an unfamiliar House. I must admit I was rather amused by how Del made fools of the old guards so roundly at the first competition – I would have even helped if it had been necessary. They totally deserved the humiliation, useless pillocks, and Del was impressively merciless. I have a vague memory of being told she had been a soldier of a sort herself back on Earth, and witnessing her prowess, I believe it must be so. In any case, this impressed me enough that I instituted a new tax to pay for the armor for the Guard and a punitive fee for any family who did not put forward at least one recruit. Del decided later that she wanted an all female Guard for herself, the rest would be trained as simple soldiers. The Olympians are known for their strong women, so I had no reason to disagree. Plus, some of her recruits would make even Sif appear dainty. Still, misfits and hybrids all. If pity was something I was capable of, I might indulge for Del’s sake, as this tiny, obscure Kingdom is likely to be the sum total of her life’s accomplishments. Then again, for someone raised entirely as a lowborn, I suppose this might not seem so pathetic.
However, she is the only daughter of Athena, who now rules the Olympian realm and who has promised to rid her of her human frailty. Not to mention the mother of the heirs of Asgard. It is difficult to not feel she deserves a bit more than this; A shame that her part will likely be cut short. But of course I have my own glory to think about and that must always take precedence.
I wait for her this time, just inside the door. I watch as she emerges from the pool, the water slipping cleanly off her body, the bathing costume clinging, blocking the view of only a small fraction of her skin. She walks past and pauses,
“Do you want to touch me?” She says again, just as I remembered.
I stand behind her, but project in front, hoping for a surprise, ready to change my mind.
“Yes,” I say, unable to hide my urgency.
Just as I reach out, she turns around and kisses me. I was not expecting this and find my lips reluctant at first. I pull back.
“How did you know?” I ask, not used to having my tricks discovered.
“Does it matter?” she says, leaning forward.
This time I reach around her neck and pull her into me, kissing her lips with intention, tasting her mouth, feeling her breath on my face. When was the last time? Curiosity soon turns to an awakening lust that had been buried deep under the weight of my ambition. How could I have waited so long? Soon all I can think of is feeling her naked warmth against my skin. I reach under the cloth to feel her left breast, still damp from the swim. She whimpers at the fierceness of my touch and we press ourselves together as the ache grows. She steps backwards into the room, pulling me with her, looking for a soft patch on the floor as I bite her neck and run my hands down her hips. She pulls away to move toward a couch in the far corner. I grab her arm and pull her back harshly, slipping my hands under her swimming top to remove it, freeing her breasts to view. Instead of retreating again, she lunges forward for another kiss, pressing her lower body against mine. I let her feel my urgency before grabbing a fistful of her wet mop of black hair to force her head back, exposing her neck, the delicate length and vulnerability of it sending a chill of excitement through me.
She reaches to pull my shirt off and I move back enough to allow her the access. As I move forward to kiss her again, she surprises me by dropping town to wrap her mouth around my right nipple, sucking first, then biting it just hard enough to send shocked tendrils of pleasure down my body. She breaks away and moves quickly to the kline, turning to face me while sitting on the edge of it, her arms and shoulders back, proudly displaying her naked breasts, nipples taught with anticipation. I watch her a moment, wondering if the expression on her face is truly the lustful trepidation it appears to be. My mouth waters at the thought of feeling her from the inside, but I hold back just a moment to see her reaction. I walk slowly toward the kline.
“I wonder, Daughter of Athena, are you ready to spread your legs for an enemy of Midgard?” I say, kneeling before her, holding my hands just above the skin of her legs, “An outlaw of Asgard?”
She meets my eye for a long moment and my doubts of her motivation dissipate as I am immediately convinced of her lust. I sense the muscles of her thighs relax and as I glance downward, I see her knees fall apart delicately, just a fraction. I immediately place my hands on her legs, sliding them quickly up her thighs until I am able to grab hold of the last piece of cloth separating me from the pleasure I seek. At his point, perhaps I am too eager and rather roughly and clumsily I yank off the cloth and fumble to free myself so that I can satisfy my desire and quell the ache. I lunge forward, splaying her legs with my body until finally reaching the slippery warmth of her center into which I plunge my hardness as far as I can manage. I exhale while she moans and I hold myself still inside her at full depth for a moment. She whispers in my ear,
“I spread my legs for you, Loki.”
I pull back and thrust with abandon, unable to savor, driven only to release. I barely hear her whimpers through the haze of my own desire, the intensity overwhelming, the loss of control intoxicating. Then suddenly I am pushed away and my slick cock feels the cool of the afternoon air; she is shifting positions and we collapse onto the floor. Before I am even able to react, she is on top of me, sliding my member back into its hot, comfortable home between her legs. Have I ever felt a more welcoming cunt? She rides me with familiar desperation and I push up to meet her with vigor, holding tight to her hips to enable me to keep my preferred depth inside her. I feel the urgency in me build below, pushing forward in anticipation, creating a near exquisite pain at the ultimate tautness of skin. Suddenly, I am brought out of my selfish trance by the feel of her body tensing around me, her fingers digging into the skin of my chest as she throws her head back and calls out a sort of guttural whimper. I pause just a moment to take in the sight of her ecstasy; she is truly exquisite in form and expression.
As the movement of her inner walls begins to earnestly coax the seed from my body, I pull her torso down to me and turn us both over. Spreading her legs even further, I dive deeper into her glorious wetness and pound with all the pent up frustration I was unaware existed until this moment. It is not long before I myself am calling out, spilling everything I have into her body, lost to everything but the glorious euphoria of gratified release.
I admit I had forgotten the calm that comes immediately after, when the body is sated and the mind is clear and quiet. I cannot remember the last time when I was not angry. It has a way of lurking at the back, even in more pleasant times. Anger, jealousy, bitterness; how unexpected to be parted from these old friends, if only for a few minutes.
By the time I have had these thoughts, Del has pulled way and slid back up on the couch. A servant immediately appears with a jug of water, a few cloths and a basin of water. Del hastens to cover herself with a light tunic handed to her. I take a towel for this purpose. Once the servant is gone, Del pours herself a glass of water.
“Is it always like this?” Del asks in obvious surprise.
I don’t really know what she is talking about.
“Like what?” I answer, still groggy.
“The servants lurking. As a prince, did you always have servants watching you have sex?”
“I don’t really notice them, honestly,” I say, pouring myself a glass. “And I tended engage my desires elsewhere.”
“I think it's a bit odd. Will take some getting used to.”
“Are you self-conscious or something? Olympians have a reputation for being a bit more free when it comes to such things, so I doubt they are even paying attention. I would say we could dismiss them, but it is rather convenient. Is it not so in Midgard?”
“I wouldn’t know. I never had servants,” she replies.
I try very hard to hide my disgust at being reminded of her low upbringing. Obviously I failed because a moment later, she hurls a grape from the fruit tray at me.
“You are such a snob. I never served anyone if that helps,” she says with a mocking frown.
A bit.
“You’ve done well. They don’t suspect,” I say. It is true that she has played her role well thus far.
“So what did you think?” She asks rather abruptly.
“About?”
She gestures to my lower half.
“I thought you’d be louder,” I say in fun.
“You work a little harder, I’ll scream a little louder,” she responds, raising a single eyebrow.
“Is that a challenge?” I ask, rather intrigued.
She shrugs. “I think, maybe, this is a good way for us to pass the time. We’re both stuck here, at least for now. Why not make the best of it?”
“Why indeed?” I feel a stirring at this.
“If we go to my bedchamber, will they follow us with the tray and the basin? Then lurk in the corner until we’re finished?” Del asks with a laugh.
“If the bedchamber does not offer the privacy you seek, what would be the point in moving?,” I say, moving towards her.
“It does offer a bed,” she suggests.
“Overrated,” I say, sliding up on the kline next to her.
She blushes adorably at my obvious interest before saying, “I can’t now. I have to feed the twins. Meet me in my bedchamber in an hour?”
I sigh loudly at the inconvenience, but nod. There are worse ways to bide one’s time.
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A Kingdom for Loki