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Loki sighs as yet another group of rowdy students enters the library. Even tucked away in the quietest corner of the large chamber, he can’t find any peace, let alone concentrate. He’ll have to have a word with the head librarian at some point.
This is the third attempt he’s made to find a place to study this book. His chambers were bustling with maids and servants to clean, under orders from Frigga, so he couldn’t tell them to leave. His mother’s day room was a gaggle of females gossiping until he’d retreated to the library for some guaranteed quiet... or so he thought.
Gathering his book, making careful note of his place, the second Prince of Asgard rises from his seat and strolls to the library entrance, throwing a glare at the noisy men and women he occasionally studies with. They pay him no mind, and with another exaggerated sigh, he leaves, heading for the gardens.
Frigga’s gardens have always been a great source of peace and quiet for him, but too many people traverse the paths and public seating areas and gazebos, so Loki quickly makes his way to the far end of the garden; his secluded place, fairly overgrown, but where he knows it’ll be peaceful.
He sighs with contentment as he leans against the oak tree, which has grown majestically in this corner of the garden, book in hand, legs spread in front of him. The intricate Elvish scrawl is hard to decipher, but he’s sure he can concentrate this time, with no interruptions…
~
Blom strolls into the garden, her pack containing all her tools over her shoulder, the larger ones under her arm. The Master Gardener has given her the important honour of reclaiming one of Queen Frigga's gardens, too long left to grow wild. She excitedly heads there, her first job alone; great trust put in her…
She stops dead and stares at the garden and groans aloud. An honour?! As she looks at the amount of work that will be necessary, she now believes this was given to her as her 'initiation' to her new tasks. One could hide a nest of bilgesnipe in here and never see it! she thinks bitterly.
She throws her pack and tools to the ground a little more forcefully than she should and permits herself one very unladylike word her mother would be ashamed to hear she knew. She takes a moment to decide where to start as she examines her surroundings.
Her love of nature returns when she sees the beauty hidden in the wildness. I will have to start with pruning back the mess of vines in the far corner near the overgrown oak.
~
The clang of tools hitting the ground makes the word Loki was working on jump from his mind and he huffs and looks around. Again?? he thinks with exasperation.
He can’t see anything and no further sounds distract him, so he goes back to the book, the word forming again only to feel the air turn blue with a most unladylike expletive. He growls and snaps the book shut, ready to tear whoever disturbs his peace a new one. Not here, not MY secluded place!
~
Blom sets to her task. The physical labour dispels her ill humour and she begins to sing as she works. She knows she doesn’t have her mother's angelic singing voice, but, as her father laughingly put it, she 'couldn’t carry a tune with both hands and a bucket'. Still, she enjoys singing and so rarely gets an opportunity to let herself go. With no one around, she allows herself to be as loud as she likes.
~
Loki growls and gives up. Now with the incessant caterwauling?? He rises to his feet and stalks over to the source of the noise.
~
The vines fall before Blom’s song-fuelled enthusiasm, though she grunts occasionally when tugging at the larger ones. I’m going be here all day! she thinks and continues her tune.
"Will you cease that infernal racket!?"
Startled, Blom lets out a squeal and loses her footing on the uneven paving. She falls to the ground, getting tangled in vines and briars, adding scratches and bruising, just to make her day all the better, and mutters another expletive.
She stands up and tries to brush off the twigs and leaves from her leggings. She regards the man in front of her and snorts, muttering under her breath. “Great, the Master Gardener sends another to keep an eye on me?” she sighs loudly with irritation.
Loki raises an elegant eyebrow, nonplussed by the attitude he’s being shown. "Another...gardener?" he laughs. "My girl, do you not know who I am?"
Still irritated by her awkward tumble and irked by her seeming inability to distinguish between speaking aloud and keeping her thoughts to herself, Blom’s mouth gets away from her brain again. ''You can tell the Master Gardener that I will show him my work when it’s done and I don't need babysitting. As you can see, I was working, while you were...what?...skulking about and shirking your own duties?''
Loki growls low in his chest and pulls himself to his full height. "Now you listen to me very carefully, girl; I am Loki, second Prince of Asgard, and you will show me the respect I am due. This area is mine and I will not have you ruining my peace. Now go tell your Master Gardener that you have failed at your task; by order of the Prince!"
''Crown Prince Loki?'' Blom laughs heartily as she looks at him in his tunic hidden under a decent long sleeveless coat, cotton trousers and leather boots. ''I doubt that. The second Prince has much better things to do than fritter away his time in a lost garden annoying me!''
"I came here to find some peace while I study an ancient text!" Loki shouts waving the book in her face. "It is time well spent, unlike some girl playing at a man's job!” Loki gestures angrily to the spot she had just been working on. “Look at how feebly you cut the vines! You have scratches on your hands and arms, and the bark of the thicker branches is sheared rather than cleanly cut because you are too weak to wield the secateurs!"
Blom grits her teeth with anger and slaps away the book being waved in her face. It falls among the vines at Loki’s feet, and incredulous at his insult, she slaps him as well.
There is a moment of shocked silence where only the distant sounds of nature can be heard. Loki is incensed by her actions and it’s the last straw to finally snap his usual resolve after a long day of nothing but interruptions.
He grabs Blom’s wrists and hauls her deeper into the undergrowth so that any other annoying passers-by won’t see them. He swings her around and pushes her roughly against the oak bark. "You had best apologise to me, NOW!"
Her first instinct is to shout ''No! Never!'' back at him, but her instinct for self-preservation appears and Blom bites back those words. She struggles to free herself, but Loki’s hands won't budge. A sudden fear grips her. I am alone and not expected anywhere for many hours, he’s furious and has already overpowered me , she thinks. ''L-let me go!''
"A..po...lo...gise," Loki says, enunciating each syllable with a sneer, bringing his face closer to hers.
So near to her and with fear giving her a sudden clarity of vision, Blom realizes her mistake in thinking Loki was a gardener such as she. His garments, though simple, are crafted of the highest quality materials and rich fabrics. He is well-groomed and smells of a recent bath with expensive soaps.
Blom belatedly remembers the gossip of the other workers, about how the younger Prince of Asgard preferred books to swordplay. She recalls that he has jet-black hair and pale skin, quite unlike the rest of the royal family...hair and skin exactly like the man before her. And piercing emerald eyes…like those that await on her apology.
She realises she may have made a grave mistake. Her throat is dry and she barely manages to squeak out, ''Are you truly Prince Loki?''
"Yes I am," he says, his voice low, his lean body pressed against her, pushing her harder into the tree, still awaiting an apology.
Blom’s heart sinks into the pit of her stomach. As another gardener, Loki may have been able to provoke a whipping for her insolence. As the Prince, he holds the power of life and death. And Blom has not only been insolent, but violent too! High treason.
She quakes at the thought that her life is forfeit, even more so when she sees his restrained rage. His dark emerald eyes are still on her, intense and demanding. Deep within their depths, Blom sees a burning desire to receive that apology. Once given, she’s sure her death will follow.
Horribly terrified that she might be making the very last mistake of her short life, the young gardener clears her throat with difficulty and meets Loki’s gaze with a boldness born of a skewed determination to survive. ''No, my Lord. I will not apologise.''
An incredulous look crosses the Prince’s face followed by a wicked grin. "No, you say?" he asks. "You are defying my authority? You may call me ‘Lord’ but you clearly do not consider me to be so, since you overtly disobey common courtesy not only to a fellow Asgardian, but to one of a higher rank than you." He moves back slightly, still holding onto Blom’s arm with one hand and lifts the other to her throat. He presses there and squeezes slightly, not enough to choke her, only show her his grip is firm. "I will rend that apology from your lips one way or another."
Blom is hyper-aware of Loki’s long fingers on her throat and though he doesn’t squeeze the life from her, she finds breathing difficult. His wicked grin terrifies her more than his anger did. All that intensity and anger and intelligence directed toward her; it does not bode well. She realizes that defying the Prince may not have been the wisest of decisions and her knees grow weak.
The grip on her tightens as Loki feels Blom begin to sink. “Perhaps you have decided to apologise on your knees?” He lowers his hand as she falls, but doesn't let go. "Ah yes," he says when she’s on the ground. "That is a much better position from which to beg forgiveness." He lets go of her throat and crosses his arms. "One last chance, which is more than you deserve. Apologise."
The inflection on the words 'one last chance' resonate within Blom. Would a simple apology now suffice? She finds it difficult to think, to speak. She licks her lips hoping to relieve the dryness in her throat. As she ponders her words, she remembers more gossip about the second Prince of Asgard, rumours of his darkness and cruelty. Blom sees him standing before her, tall and strong and radiating a cold anger and doesn’t doubt those rumours. It’s too much for her to bear. She springs to her feet and bolts, weaving amongst the obstacles of the overgrown garden paths. If I can only reach the garden wall and climb over it...
Loki sighs and unfolds his arms. “You really don't know with whom you are dealing,” he mutters. He tracks her movements and easily follows with his long legs. With a flick of his hand, a vine shoots across Blom’s path and tangles in her legs. Her spill is spectacular; arms flapping, legs flailing, and it’s almost hilarious how she lands arse-over-tit and comes to a halt just before the wall.
A hand in her hair to lift her to her feet is all Loki needs. He drags her back to the relative seclusion of his peaceful haven. Fear makes Blom struggle but she can’t break free from his iron grip and she whimpers loudly. “Hush, woman! I don't need anyone to see the punishment I will now inflict upon you. I never was one for public humiliation.”
Amidst the chaos, Blom’s mind screams what it wants to know. ''W-what will you d-do to me?'' Though the words drop from her lips, barely audible.
The Prince throws her to the ground under the oak tree, the untended grass cushioning her landing. "You won't use your mouth for an apology, so you will use it to beg for my mercy." He falls upon her and pins Blom to the ground. Loki begins to unbutton her gardener’s shirt with one hand, slowly, while the other has both of her wrists pinned to her stomach.
Stunned at the turn of events, Blom freezes in shock. Loki’s weight won't allow her to move much and though he’s only used one hand, both of her wrists are locked into a vise-like grip. The dark-haired male’s slimmer frame is deceptively strong and Blom shudders to think of what humiliation he may actually mean. ''W-what are you doing?!'' she panics.
"You have humiliated me, questioned my rank and refused to apologise to your Prince. I am going to return the favour. I will humiliate you, use you as a woman, and I will do it with no remorse." He lifts her wrists above her head so that he can get to the rest of the buttons. He growls, "You have brought this upon yourself."
The young Prince’s words stun her. Surely, he doesn't mean to...?? Another button being undone is her answer. She protests vigorously, ''You can't! I made an honest mistake. Surely, you can forgive that?'' Loki’s darkened gaze on her speaks volumes about how little success her appeal to his better nature will have. ''Is it too late?'' She’s unsure if she spoke aloud or to herself.
"I might have forgiven the break in my peace had you left when I suggested. I might have forgiven the attack on my person had you apologised when I demanded it. Now, I will have my way with you as recompense for your actions and then let out my frustrations." Loki now has Blom’s shirt open and he looks at her, ogling, licking his lips lewdly.
Unexpectedly, shockingly, Blom finds the Prince’s words provoke a reaction in her core. The feel of his weight on top of her, the hardness of his awakening arousal on her thigh, the cool breeze on her naked breasts hardening her nipples... Surely it’s the wind?? She thinks... she hopes. Her mind wanders for a moment as she suddenly imagines the strength of Loki’s hands on her, him filling her... Wait! What am I thinking? This man isn't proposing a sweet, romantic tryst! She struggles to free herself. ''No! You can't!''
"I can, and I will," Loki growls, however, he doesn't lunge or attack as she expects. This is about humiliation after all. I will make her enjoy it. He runs his free hand up her stomach and lightly caresses the swell of her breasts before circling with the pads of his fingertips around each rosy nipple. He then leans forwards and take one in his mouth softly, sucking gently, then moves onto the other.
Having braced for a more violent touch, Blom is surprised by the light touches. Loki’s warm mouth on her is unexpected and tears a moan from her lips. Her back arches beneath him even as she struggles and she’s unsure if she’s squirming closer or away from him.
Loki lets go of the young gardener’s wrists, more an experiment to see what she will do, but also uses that hand to wind in Blom’s hair and pulls her head to the side, exposing her neck. With a wicked grin, he licks his way up from her chest and then nuzzles at the junction of her slender neck and shoulder. He then bites, gently at first, adding pressure and then sucking a dark bruise against Blom’s pale skin.
Blom tries to resist, though is utterly betrayed by her body's reactions. She manages to free a leg, but instead of kicking Loki in the hopes of shifting him so she can get away, Blom hooks it over his thigh. Her hands, free now, should push him away, but when they find the barely-straining muscles of Loki’s shoulders, they slide around them and grip tightly. Delicious pleasure sweeps over her, but she recognises that this is no lover's embrace. The pain of Loki’s mark reminds the gardener that though her body betrays her, she must at least try to resist.
Loki finishs marking the woman beneath him, seeing her flesh reddened and bruised. The feel of her legs and arms, of their own will, embracing him makes him smirk. He moves to whisper in Blom`s ear. "Whore."
At that, Blom reacts before she can think. ''I am NOT a whore!'' Her hips buck up trying to throw the Prince off her and her hands drop to his chest, desperate to push him away.
Loki is immovable. "Not a whore? Then why are you enjoying my touch so much?" He runs his hands down to Blom’s trousers. Her stomach dips and creates a space between the clothes and her flesh. He presses his fingers between that space and finds her hot core. The woman is not soaked, but wet enough. He dips his fingers shallowly into her. "Try to deny it."
She gasps and jump at his touch. Stubbornly, Blom tries to ignore the pooling wetness between her thighs and her secret desire to have Loki continue, and yet, she can’t truthfully deny it. She shakes her head and still tries to push him away. Lashing out, she exclaims, ''Then it’s only whores who enjoy your touch? They are paid to lie!'' Belatedly, she realises this was not a wise thing to say to any man, let alone the Prince of Asgard.
He growls at the words meant to maim his manhood. Loki plunges his fingers inside her roughly and his other hand goes back to Blom’s throat. "Allow me to show you just how I please a woman, maiden or whore, and then you will know whether they lie about my prowess!"
The roughness is not unexpected. The increase in arousal is. Blom clutches at Loki’s hand around her throat. She tries to close her legs, to pull away, but the man’s weight on her won't allow it and only succeeds in pushing the questing fingers further inside.
Pumping in and out of her tight pussy, Loki’s long fingers reach the full length of her. He curls them upwards and brushes the front wall of her passage and she jerks when he finds her sweet spot. He smirks and continue to caress it. He also uses his thumb to circle Blom’s no longer hidden clit. He doesn’t remove his hand from her throat, rather enjoying it being there, holding her down effortlessly.
Blom’s struggles cease and her movements synchronise with Loki’s plunging fingers. She writhes beneath him as she seeks more friction. As he circles her clit with his thumb, a low moan vibrates deep in the young woman’s throat and her legs open, no longer resisting the intrusion. A tension coils and grows deep inside her and she reaches down to Loki’s slim hips, eagerly pressing him closer. A soft sigh escapes her. ''Oh yes. Please.''
Loki chuckles, knowing he’s won this round. “I wonder what your voice sounds like when you come…” he purrs. He presses harder, circles faster, watching for Blom to come undone.
The stimulation proves to be more than she can handle. Blom’s breathing grows ever more ragged, her squirming more urgent. The tension within her builds to a moment of almost agonising bliss. She throws her head back into the soft grass and every muscle flexes and becomes rigid. Her back arches up off the ground. She digs her fingers hard into Loki’s shoulders. One last touch, a last swirl of his fingers and thumb and he pushes her over the edge into a delirious euphoria.
Loki finds that his breath leaves him somewhat as he watches Blom reach her peak and ride it through. Her long brown hair has come loose and is splayed across the grass where she had struggled and shook her head. Stunning, Loki thinks, and while he may not have initially decided to take her all the way, only play with her a bit, he feels himself hardening in his trousers.
For long moments, Blom’s heart stops and she can’t take a breath. Loki’s fingers continue their movements, but more languidly, until she comes down from the intense orgasm, moaning.
Loki removes his hand from her trousers and brings his soaked fingers to his mouth. He tastes her flavour on them, looking her in the eyes; green meeting hazel. "Delicious," he says with a lewd grin.
Blom finds her panting is most unladylike and her limbs are boneless beneath the Prince. She’s unable to speak and takes a few moments to catch her breath and think. She blushes at Loki’s words and self-satisfied smirk. Perhaps, she thinks, if the Prince can be appeased, he will forget about my punishment!
She pushes herself up to her elbows and tentatively takes Loki’s hand and brings those same fingers he was licking towards her face. Unsure of his reaction, she nonetheless presses her lips to his warm palm, risking a taste with the tip of her tongue. ''My Lord, surely there is more you want.''
Loki feels her tongue lick his palm ever so gently and it makes him lose a little more of his control. He growls and pushes Blom back down into the grass, shifting his body so that he can undo her trousers, pulling them from her body. Loki then places himself between her legs and grins salaciously. "Undo my cords," he commands.
Blom has a moment's hesitation. What am I doing? A proper woman would not comply so easily, especially knowing that I have still not been reprimanded for my behaviour. His Highness certainly has not forgotten about it. Loki’s green eyes are dark with lust as they gaze at her and Blom falls into their promise of more pleasure. If I die immediately after, then so be it. She finds her fingers nervously reaching for the cords on the Prince’s trousers.
Her hesitation, however, makes Loki growl. "Quicker, girl," he hisses. "If I have to do it myself, I will not be kind when I impale you with what I have to offer."
Blom hastens to do as he asks, but scrapes and bruises on her hands and fingers make themselves known. Her usually agile digits now fumble with the cords and she can sense Loki’s impatience growing the longer she’s unable to accomplish the task. Then, a small victory...only to find she’s managed a knot rather than an opening.
Loki sighs, rolling his eyes. "I thought Gardeners were supposed to possess agile and nimble fingers," he grunts and smacks her hands away, undoing the cords himself. He impatiently pulls them down his hips. Without much preamble, he rubs the head of his straining cock against Blom’s wet slit and pushes hastily inside.
The suddenness with which the dark-haired male fills her brings discomfort as he stretches the young woman wide without a moment to adapt. Blom lets out a sharp gasp of both pleasure and pain. I’ve never had anyone so huge!
Loki can feel how tight Blom is, but pushes until he is flush against her, groaning. He suffers no illusions that she was a virgin; he would have felt her maiden’s barrier whilst fingering her. "By the Norns," he breathes. It has been a while.
His words of pleasure whispered so near to her ear send a white-hot heat to Blom’s core and she clenches around Loki’s hardness. The increased slickness eases the pain and very quickly, only ecstasy remains. The Prince’s hips are still and she can only imagine the self-control required to remain so. On a whim, Blom snakes her arms around him, one reaching down to his firm buttocks, the other around Loki’s neck to pull him down to her, pressing his clothed torso to her bare chest. ''Yes, my Lord,'' she mirrors his tone.
Grinning slowly, Blom’s encouragement is all Loki needs. He begins thrusting, slowly at first pulling his length from her tight heat to the tip and slamming back inside to the hilt. He does this a few times before thrusting more consistently, faster, harder, seeking his own release. I have already given her pleasure, now I will have mine.
The repeated hard physical contact between Loki’s hips and Blom’s sends ripples of pleasure to the gardener’s core. She arches into the Prince, matching his pace. Her arm at his buttocks slides up underneath his tunic. Though she tries to restrain her passion, her nails dig into Loki’s back, the waves of ecstasy sending her beyond caring for the consequences of scratching his flawless skin.
She whispers wanton encouragements into Loki’s ears. The slapping of his skin on hers inflames Blom’s senses and the delicious tension is building again. She is beyond caring for her own release though. She wants to feel Loki release his seed deep within her, to see the rigid self-control of a crown prince at his most vulnerable.
Loki swings his hips up and down desperately, gritting his teeth. Normally proud of his usual control, he had not anticipated such a tight sheath for his cock. It’s mere moments before he’s groaning out an expletive not unlike the one Blom had used earlier and comes hard inside her, his muscles stiffening and then relaxing.
The last thrust of Loki’s hips sends his spurting cock at an angle to press against that special spot deep within Blom, and his hips grind roughly against her clit. The combination sends her over the edge once again. She cries out Loki’s name as her spasming walls milk his cock from the inside. She holds on tightly as he collapses on top of her.
Loki rests his face at the crook of Blom’s neck, panting in her ear. He shudders occasionally as she does too, their coupling complete. The Prince breathes in her scent: her hair is damp from the moisture in the grass, the faint tinge of the vines and roots she had been tackling earlier, and her own natural fragrance. He lifts back up and looks into her hazel eyes, which are half-lidded, and remains inside of her, legs still wrapped around his hips.
Blom finds that Loki’s ragged breaths are a thrill...an audible proof that he has been sated...and that knowledge sings along her nerve endings. These last moments before her impending trip to Helheim were oddly satisfying. Beneath the towering oak shading them from the sunlight, her limbs release the Prince slowly, unwillingly, as a tension born of fear begins to return.
Blom drinks in the sight of the dark-haired male, slightly dishevelled and gazing intently at her. Her fate already sealed, she dares one last thing. She pulls herself up toward Loki and presses a kiss to his throat, tasting his pulse as well as the light coating of sweat covering the delicate skin. She then lowers her head to the ground, resigned to her punishment for such presumption.
Loki shivers at the demure kiss and then grins at Blom, her actions opposite to the initial protesting. Sweet and alluring, and completely satisfying. He clears his throat, his voice slightly hoarse. "Now...will you kindly apologise for striking me?"
Utterly surprised by the indulgent glint she sees in the emerald eyes, it takes a few moments for Blom to formulate a response. ''M-m-my Lord??? A-an apology would still satisfy you?''
Loki chuckles lightly. "Stupid girl," he says, although his words are not intended to sting. "That is all I have been seeking from the beginning."
Tears of relief spring to Blom’s eyes. ''Oh, my Lord!'' she breathes softly, her tension gone. ''I really am sorry for slapping you! Truly! I should never have done it, to anyone, let alone you.'' She reaches up to Loki’s face, sliding a soft caress along his jawline. ''Do you...accept my apology?''
Loki smiles and leans into her caress. "I do." He turns his head and playfully bites her hand before getting up, pulling out gingerly and tucking himself away. He offers his hand to Blom to help her rise.
The young woman places her hand in his and is pulled effortlessly to her feet. Blushing red, aware of how she must look, Blom futilely attempts to fix the mess that she is, pulling her shirt closed to hide her breasts, and picking at leaves and twigs in her hair. She brushes off the vegetation that has stuck to her sweat-dampened skin. ''I am sorry, my Lord. I seem to be dressed inappropriately for meeting a Prince.''
Loki waves that apology away. "I am not exactly dressed in all my finery. I simply wanted to escape the loud distractions and study my book. You were not expecting me." He takes her hand in one of his and picks a twig from her brown hair that she missed. He then leans down and kisses her knuckles. "Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement. I shall go back to my book and you can continue with your work...IF you promise to stop that awful singing of yours."
Blom laughs joyfully at his words. ''I believe I can manage that, my Lord! I must warn you that I will have to be here for a week or so until all this is done.'' She steps closer to him and lowers her voice to a purr. ''But I tend to forget myself when I work. If I disturb you again, you have but to demand it and I will be most happy to...'apologise'...again.''
The End