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The sweltering day had turned Bilskirnir into a furnace. Droplets of sweat rolled down Thor’s brow and he tugged at the collar of his tunic in a desperate attempt to loosen it, glad he had not donned his armor, for he could not imagine the weight of steel on his skin in this heat.
There had been no natural rain in weeks and Thor had spent several days in the southern regions of the realm, gathering storm clouds and bringing down rain to water the fields in an attempt to save at least part of the harvest.
Loki had not accompanied him, claiming to have no interest in the matters of peasants, and Bilskirnir did need a master in Thor’s absence, but he’d been increasingly worried about Loki while they were parted, wondering how he faired in the boiling temperatures that seemed to climb higher as the days passed.
Thor still recalled the last time Asgard had been plagued by a similar heatwave a few decades ago and how Loki was driven nearly witless by the heat. When Thor had found him passed out in the gardens one hot afternoon, they’d been forced to seek refuge in Vanaheimr, the weather there milder and more agreeable with Loki’s jötunn blood.
The Vanir, unfortunately, did not currently welcome either of them within their borders, for their last visit had severed some bonds.
Thor had lost count of all the scuffles he’d gotten himself into since he’d made Loki his unofficial consort nearly five decades ago, but Mjöllnir would continue to find a target in whoever dared to insult Thor or his loved ones to his face.
“Röskva, tell me, have you seen Prince Loki today?” Thor asked his young servant as she scurried down the hallway, carrying a pile of clean linen in her hands.
She stopped to give Thor a polite curtsey. “My lord Thor, he has not left your chambers for days.”
Thor nodded and let little Röskva be on her way, quickening his steps as he hurried to their private rooms.
“Loki?”
Thor looked around in the sitting-room and the small study, the fear of finding Loki unconscious growing as he got no answer. He made his way to their bedchamber and saw that Loki’s clothes had been left in a pile on the floor near the bed. Thor picked up his golden torque, eyeing the door that led to the bathing chamber, the corners of his mouth curving up.
He tossed the piece of jewelry on the bed and began to unfasten his belt, eager to join Loki in a cool bath.
His fingers froze on his laces and the lines on his brow deepened with worry when he realized the bathroom was empty, not a single trace of water in the large gold basin where they took their baths.
Thor retraced his steps back to the bedchamber and noticed that Loki’s falcon plumes were missing from their usual spot near the pedestal where Thor kept Mjöllnir when she was not hanging from his belt.
“Loki… Where have you flown off to?”
It was not uncommon for Loki to don his magical plumes when he wished to be left alone, or if Thor had managed to get on his bad side. Most of their arguments ended with Loki quite literally flying out of the window, leaving Thor to rage at whoever happened to be unfortunate enough to cross paths with him.
According to their young servant, Loki had not been seen for days.
Thor stepped out to the balcony, leaning his hands against the railing, letting his eyes roam over the wilting land. The boiling heat had turned the fields into yellow, dry patches and no cool breeze came from the sea, leaving the air stagnant.
There would be many hungry mouths to feed from the reserves of the royal granary next winter, for most of the harvest had been lost in spite of Thor’s attempts to counter the heat with his storms. His dominion over the weather had grown stronger over time, but the rains he brought down from the clouds were not a permanent solution. Harnessing a storm was easy enough, especially when the frenzy of battle was upon him, but keeping the skies covered for a long period of time was a skill he had yet to fully master.
Thor turned his gaze to the ridge of mountains that surrounded the valley, observing their snow-capped peaks; there was only one place in Thrúndheimr that would offer Loki respite from the heat. He lifted Mjöllnir from his belt and spun her around, letting her carry him across the evergreen forests and blue rivers that ran between the fjords.
It was close to dusk when Thor’s keen eyes finally caught sight of a familiar protective rune on the mountainside, the faint green glow that surrounded the area visible in the soft golden hues of the setting sun. Thor landed on the small outcrop, the protective barrier Loki had created around it allowing him to pass through safely. He noticed there were bare footprints all over the area and the snow under the rune showed signs of having been touched.
Thor set Mjöllnir down and began to dig.
The air was much cooler up on the mountain than it was in the valley, and Thor could see why Loki had chosen to seek refuge up here. He had never known Loki to burrow in snow like this, but he followed his instinct and continued to dig.
It didn’t take long for the sharp end of Loki’s remaining horn to poke through the layers of snow and Thor let out a relieved sigh, ignoring the way his hands were turning raw pink from the cold. As Loki’s face came into view, Thor noticed he lay in a small protective cocoon, his body untouched by the snow.
“Loki?”
Thor pulled him into his arms and cradled his naked body against his chest. Loki appeared to be in the early stages of hibernation, his deep slumber brought on by the low temperature. Thor shook him gently until Loki finally began to stir.
“Thor?” Loki’s eyes fluttered open and Thor used his hand to shield them from the remaining sunlight. Loki looked a little disorientated, but his mouth quirked up in a small smile. “You’ve returned.”
“Aye, there was nothing more I could do to help the farmers. Most of their crops have been lost.” Thor pressed a soft kiss to Loki’s brow. “I got worried when you weren’t around to greet me.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Loki sighed, burrowing against Thor’s chest. “I was afraid I would lose my mind if I had to spend one more day in the infernal heat.” He turned his face to the horizon, baring his sharp teeth at the sun’s red wheel as it finally began its descent beneath the mountain tops. “Even the weather doesn’t welcome me here,” he said bitterly.
“Loki…”
Thor had entertained the notion of bringing Loki to Asgard long before he had ever had the courage to voice his thoughts to him, and their life together was a good one. Thor had never been more content and he knew Loki was happy in their shared home, but there were times such as these when he heard the echo of Loki’s words from long ago in the back of his mind.
“Do you truly believe they would suffer Laufey-King’s heir to enter the mighty halls of Asgard?”
Most Æsir had indeed been untrusting of Loki from the moment Thor had brought him home with him, and it seemed Loki’s heritage alone was enough to earn him Asgard’s scorn. Loki may have stayed with the Allfather’s consent, but it was not enough to silence the wicked tongues that spread wild rumors and cruel stories about Laufey’s heir, the little wildling who’d been taught foul seidr by the ancient völva in the Ironwoods.
“I wish there was something I could do to make this weather easier for you to bear. I’m the lord of storms, yet I cannot help you,” Thor bemoaned, frustrated by his inability to bring Loki relief from the heat.
”It’s not your fault, Thor.” Loki sat up and began to dig for his plumes from where he had hidden them in the snow. “None of it is,” he said, giving Thor a soft smile over his shoulder, able to guess that the weather wasn’t the only source of Thor’s frustration.
He draped the plumes around his naked form and prepared to change shape, but Thor shook his head, taking Loki’s hand in his to pull him against his chest.
“I cannot let you transform in your condition.”
“I will not be coddled.” Loki scowled and made a halfhearted attempt to wrench himself free from Thor’s arms, but he was exhausted from his slumber. “Oh fine…” he sighed, leaning into Thor’s embrace as Mjöllnir transported them back home.
The sun had set hours ago, but nighttime brought no respite from the heat. Thor tightened his hold on Loki’s hips to help him stay upright in his lap as they rutted in their bed for the first time in weeks. Loki's skin was flushed deep blue and Thor watched him with open concern, noticing the rivulets of sweat rolling down his temples and beading at the tip of his nose.
He was no longer meeting Thor's thrusts, too exhausted to move himself, and Thor turned them over until Loki was resting on his back in the crumpled sheets.
“Are you certain you’re up for this? We don’t have to-“
“You've almost finished,” Loki panted, “just keep going.”
Loki’s own prick was soft between his thighs, but his cunt clenched in obvious need and Thor continued to chase his release.
“I missed you,” Thor murmured, his breath warm in Loki's ear as he trembled above him, filling him with his seed.
He pressed a kiss to Loki’s temple and pulled out to settle between his lean thighs. “I missed this, too.”
Loki let out a pleased grunt when Thor buried his face in his folds, tasting him with genuine enthusiasm and decades of practice. He sank two fingers into Loki’s body, his own seed trickling out as his touch made Loki come alive again.
“Right there...” Loki panted.
A soft wail rose from his chest, his thighs around Thor’s neck tightening as he found his release.
Later, when they had bathed and Loki had fallen into restless sleep, Thor lay beside him, watching the way Loki’s lips parted to draw in shallow, labored breaths. He pressed a kiss to Loki’s shoulder and turned his face up to observe the tapestry that hung from the rafters above the bed. He let his eyes roam over the colorful design of Yggdrasil’s many branches that his mother had woven into the fabric and considered his options.
Loki awoke to light jostling, at once aware of lying in a pool of his own sweat where the bedding was soaked through. He cracked open one bleary eye and was greeted by Thor’s grinning face.
“Get dressed and meet me at the stables.”
“Mmmh?”
“I have a surprise for you,” Thor whispered, sounding far too excited for someone who was awake at the crack of dawn.
“I don’t like to be surprised before breakfast.”
Thor was gone by the time Loki had managed to shake himself free from the tendrils of sleep. It was barely dawn, but the air was already much too warm for Loki’s liking and his mood began to plummet as he stumbled out of bed. He went to his wardrobe and pulled on a soft linen tunic Frigga had made for him at the beginning of the summer season, green like most of the outfits in Loki’s wardrobe, the official color of a royal consort.
Most of Bilskirnir still slept when Loki made his way through the deserted hallways, and only a few Einherjar stood guard in the shadows, motionless and vigilant. His mood did not improve when he approached the stables and saw Thor emerge from behind a large bale of hay, followed by his two beastly goats and Thor’s rickety old cart.
“This is a terrible surprise…” Loki pouted, for he hated those goats, truly hated them, their foul smell rivaled only by their mean spirits.
Thor merely laughed at Loki’s disgruntled face even as Tanngrisnir attempted to sink his teeth into Loki’s shoulder. Thor pulled on the harness and calmed the goat with soothing gibberish.
“Thor, what is this? Where are you taking me?” Loki grumbled as Thor helped him into the cart. It was packed full of different gear and Loki had to climb over a large trunk and some tent poles to get to the narrow seat at the front. “It is barely dawn and I have not bathed or eaten and-“
“Trust me, you will enjoy it. I know you prefer other means of travel, but I assure you, it is faster this way.”
Thor walked the goats out of the stable yard, and once they were on the main road, he joined Loki in the cart and reined the beasts out of their lazy gait.
“Here we go.”
The goats began to trot, their hooves clattering against the cobblestones as they gained speed, the wheels of the cart rising from the ground. Thor wrapped his arm around Loki’s shoulder, holding him tightly against his side as the goats took to the sky, pulling the cart with them.
The ride was just as wobbly as Loki remembered and he clung to Thor as they soared higher. The wind whipped his braid against his face and Loki watched their home in the valley shrink into a small golden fleck as the goats ran amid the clouds.
Far in the horizon, the Bifröst shone bright in the first light of the early morning.
“We are going to use the Bifröst?”
“Aye, it is the fastest way to Midgard.”
“Midgard?” Loki echoed, genuinely surprised.
“It is early fall in the northern lands and the weather there should offer you some relief from this heat.” Thor turned to look at Loki, his face serious. “I refuse to spend one more night watching your discomfort as you sweat into the bedding.”
The mere thought of cooler weather was enough to make Loki forget all about his foul mood. He brushed his knuckles against Thor’s face and leaned close to rub the stub of his broken horn against his bristled cheek.
“Thank you.”
They had traveled to many lands over the years, but Loki had never set foot in the realm of men. He had heard exciting tales from Thor, of brave Norsemen who feared neither death nor pain and were welcomed in Valhalla by the Allfather himself when their short lives came to an end. The only humans Loki had actually seen were the two young servants Thor kept around at Bilskirnir, but little Thjálfi and Röskva were timid, dull creatures, nothing like the brave warriors Thor was so fond of.
The Bifröst trembled as the goats ran along its colorful surface, the length of it spanning across the bottomless void between celestial bodies. There was a bright flash of flames and the stardust around them turned to blue skies right before Loki’s eyes.
Thor reined the goats through the clouds, the sound of thunder following at their heels as they charged across the sky. Below them, Loki could see glimpses of green valleys and small lakes and rivers. The humans had built houses along the seashore and there were many boats floating in the bay, none of them as large as the longboats that set sail from the harbor in Thrúndheimr, but perhaps the humans had no need for such grand vessels.
As Loki turned his gaze to the east, he saw a familiar row of jagged mountains, their peaks hidden in a mass of stormy clouds as dark as midnight. He’d not been this close to Jötunheimr since he’d left it behind to begin his life anew with Thor.
The sight of his old homeland brought a deep scowl to his face and he looked away, pressing tighter against Thor’s flank.
Thor steered the cart down to a small clearing at the edge of a forest. Loki sighed as he felt the cool lick of morning mist on his skin and he closed his eyes, breathing in the autumn air.
“Better?” Thor asked.
“Much better. I feel like I can breathe again.” Loki tugged at Thor’s sun-kissed hair and pulled him down for a kiss. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
Loki observed their surroundings as Thor freed the goats from the cart and he had to admit Midgard was beautiful. Familiar, but somehow different. The trees were smaller than the ones back home, and the air was blessedly cool, but it did not smell as sweet as the air in Asgard.
There was no sign of human settlement, but Loki could hear the rush of water from the nearby woods.
“I'll set up camp and prepare us something to eat,” Thor said, rummaging through the contents of the cart. “There’s a small river just beyond those trees if you wish to bathe before we eat.
Loki was more than eager to wash off the smell of goats and the lingering sweat on his skin and he shed his tunic and deer skin boots, leaving the clearing in naught but his skin.
His feet made no sound on the moss as he threaded a path amid birches and rowan trees, their branches heavy with red berries. He soon found the river Thor had mentioned and as he continued to walk along the riverbank, his eyes caught sight of a tiny object, tied around one of the birches. His mouth spread into a bemused grin when he realized the thing almost looked like a crude imitation of Mjöllnir.
Having spent most of his life living as an outcast, Loki's knowledge of the realms beyond Jötunheimr had been very limited until he met Thor, but he remembered that the men of Midgard worshiped the Æsir as higher beings, devoting their simple lives to pleasing Odin Allfather and the rest of the mighty Asgardians.
Loki flicked the pendant with the tip of his black nail. Thor must be most beloved among his fierce Norsemen, Loki thought, for he’d been coming to their aid since he was barely a youth. Loki wondered briefly if the mortal men would ever devote their lives to a jötunn runt.
He finally found a spot where the river ran shallow enough for bathing, the water so clear that he could see the sandy bottom and the dark green algae that twisted like snakes in the streaming waters. Loki waded into the river and picked up a handful of the algae, its soft texture perfect for washing.
His body was already beginning to cool, the flush on his skin fading into its usual cerulean hue in the chill. It felt refreshing to be in a land where his face was not known and his name wasn’t spoken as a curse because of his heritage. The foul rumors that claimed Loki had somehow bewitched Thor, that there was no other explanation for why the crown prince chose to share his bed with a jötunn exile were as insulting as they were preposterous.
Loki glanced up when he realized the twitter of birds had ceased and a sudden sound of footfall had him looking over his shoulder and locking eyes with a young woman.
She stood next to a fallen tree trunk only a few meters away, her eyes wide as she took in the blue hue of Loki’s skin and the horns on his brow.
Loki glared at her, suddenly self-conscious under her visibly horrified gaze. He bared his teeth and the woman recoiled, stumbling back a few hurried steps. She cried out something in a language Loki did not know and threw one of the sticks of firewood from the bundle in her arms. It missed and fell into the stream, but her intent to harm was very clear.
Loki stood up and turned to face her, the red of his eyes deepening with anger. He may have been a runt in Jötunheimr, but he towered over the human, and she cowered in fear as Loki stalked out of the water, teeth bared and algae hanging from his horns.
The woman threw another stick at him and this time it managed to scrape Loki’s right cheek.
“Foolish mortal,” Loki snarled in his native tongue.
He had always had a natural talent for shaping his surroundings and casting elemental spells. Loki spread out his fingers and spoke a fire rune, watching with glee as the bundle of sticks in the woman’s arms burst into bright flames. They seared her pale skin and she let out a shrill cry, dropping the burning bundle to the ground and fleeing in horror.
Loki had no time to gloat or enjoy his small victory, for he was equally startled by a burst of wild wind that parted the tree tops. The ground shook as Thor landed right in front of Loki, the steel scales of his full battle armor still materializing onto his arms.
Loki quickly extinguished the remaining flames with a subtle flick of his wrist.
“Loki, are you alright? I heard shouting…” Thor placed his hands on Loki’s shoulders and looked him over for visible injuries.
“I'm fine,” Loki huffed. He slithered out of Thor’s touch, his eyes fixed on his own bare feet. “One of the mortals interrupted my bathing and I simply… drove her away.”
Thor inhaled the lingering smell of smoke. He turned his eyes to the blackened bundle of sticks that lay smoldering on the ground. “Loki… How exactly did you drive her away?”
Loki’s eyebrows drew together at the clear disapproval in Thor’s voice. “Oh, do not fret, your precious mortal yet lives."
He whirled around and attempted to walk away, but Thor caught his arm and pulled him back.
“I’m not blaming you for anything, Loki. But you should know that the people of Midgard are not... they are not as you and I. They’re fierce and brave and admirable in their loyalty, but their lives are short and their bodies fragile. You must respect that.”
Loki’s eyes flicked to the blackened bundle of sticks. He’d used a simple fire rune, but the flames had burned the woman’s hands like dragon fire.
“Very well,” Loki said. "I shall be more careful." He picked the algae from his horns, ignoring the amused smile on Thor's lips, and tossed the plants back into the river before wrapping his arms around Thor’s neck.
“Will you take us back now? I am starving.”
"Just wait until you see what I’ve prepared for you," Thor grinned.
Loki swallowed the last of his supper and tossed Tanngrisnir’s shinbone into the pile of bones that lay on top of the slaughtered goat’s pelt. The meat had been delicious, and in the morning, the goat would be back to its usual mean-spirited self.
Thor poked at the fire, watching Loki lick grease from his fingers. “Are you full? I can slay Tanngnjóstr if you hunger for more.”
Loki gave the remaining goat a wicked smile. The animal glared at him from the edge of the campsite and snorted defiantly.
“That won’t be necessary,” Loki said, “for I hunger for something else now.” He flashed his sharp little fangs at Thor as he licked the remaining grease from his lips, his gaze roaming on Thor’s body.
Thor chuckled, more than happy to satisfy Loki’s remaining hunger.
They made their way to the tent Thor had erected near the fire. He held the white linen flaps open for Loki and lit a fire in the lantern that hung from the wooden beam at the roof of the tent. Thor knew Loki preferred to bring some of the comforts of home with them even when they traveled, and he’d covered the mossy ground with animal pelts, happy to spoil Loki rotten after the harsh life he’d led in Jötunheimr.
Loki loosened the fastenings on his tunic, allowing it to pool at his feet before settling on the soft cot.
“Come here,” Loki beckoned, running his fingers through the furs as he watched Thor undress.
They lay on the bed facing each other, trading leisurely kisses and mapping smooth skin and hard muscle with eager hands. Thor’s fingers soon found their way between Loki’s thighs and he wrapped them around his hardening cock, moaning into their kiss as Loki mirrored his action. They began to thrust into each other’s fists, all the sluggishness of the previous night gone, and Loki could already feel his pleasure peaking.
“I’m going to spill,” Loki sighed against Thor’s lips.
“Not before I’ve tasted you.”
Thor released his hold on Loki’s prick and rolled over to lie on his back. He motioned for Loki to turn around and settle on top of him before taking hold of his hips, urging him to lower his wet cunt onto Thor’s waiting mouth.
Loki began to grind against Thor’s face, his desire for pleasure so great that he didn’t even mind the mild burn from Thor’s bristle. Thor let out a grunt and thrust up with his own hips to get Loki’s attention where he needed it.
Loki wrapped his hand around Thor’s cock and swallowed him to the hilt as he moved his own hips to meet the slide of Thor’s talented tongue. He closed his eyes in pleasure when he felt Thor’s calloused fingers around his own prick. He knew he was undone when Thor gave his cock a long suckle while his fingers continued to slide between his folds.
“Thor… I cannot hold back any longer.”
Thor allowed Loki to thrust deeper into his mouth as his seed began to pool against Thor’s tongue, savoring the slightly bitter yet intimate taste Loki left in his mouth.
Loki trembled with the aftershocks of his release, his hips still grinding lazily against Thor’s body as Thor brought his hand up to wipe his beard clean.
”Could you… return the favor?” Thor chuckled, lifting his hips a little, his hard cock resting against the crease of his thigh.
Loki shot him a mischievous smile over his shoulder and took Thor back into his mouth. He had him spilling against his lips in no time at all and he flicked his tongue against the tip, greedy for a taste as his hands worked the slick shaft until Thor began to twist beneath him, too sensitive to be touched.
Loki settled in the crook of Thor’s arm for the first time in nearly a full month, finally able to stand the heat of his body. Wolves howled in the nearby mountains and Loki drew a protective rune into the fabric of the tent before burrowing tighter against Thor’s flank, falling into deep slumber.
The look in the Allfather’s eye was fierce even in the simple wooden imitation the mortals had carved of him, and Loki shivered and fought the familiar urge to cower as he stood before the massive idol. The bright flames that burned in metal basins all around the temple cast long shadows to the god's form, deepening the scowl on its lifeless face.
Loki averted his eyes and turned his gaze on the largest idol in the temple where it stood at the center of the dais, bathed in a beam of pale moonlight. He laid his hand on the skillfully carved Mjöllnir between the idol’s feet, tracing the patterns and runes with his fingers.
It appeared the Thunderer held the place of honor in the mortals’ house of worship.
Loki glanced over his shoulder at Thor, who leaned against a large golden pillar by the entrance as he waited for Loki to explore the quiet temple. He craned his neck to observe the wooden idol once more, a wave of awe washing over him, for Thor was magnificent, even in this naïve but lovingly carved form, loved and honored like no other.
The feeling of awe was replaced by a sudden rush of envy. Thor was his to love and no other’s and the mere notion that these small creatures could rival Loki’s love for Thor made him seethe. He sank his black nails into the surface of the idol, marring the wood until the pain in his fingers forced him to pull back.
He gave the idol one last contemptuous look and descended from the dais.
“I’m impressed,” Loki said, strolling out of the temple. “Though I must admit their carving does not quite capture your essence.”
Thor laughed softly, looking a little embarrassed. “The humans are skilled with their hands,” he agreed, glancing at the idol inside. “But I do hope my nose isn’t quite so big and… wooden.”
“Do the mortals fear you?” Loki asked as they stepped out into the dark autumn night.
“Aye, some of them do,” Thor nodded. “They fear the rumble of my thunder and the might of my hammer.”
“And they are right to do so.” Loki ran his fingers along the runes on Mjöllnir’s uru-head and gave Thor’s large biceps a quick caress. “For you are above them. We both are.”
Thor paused in his step to give Loki a considering look, the jovial smile on his lips faltering. “You truly believe that?”
“Of course,” Loki replied. His mouth split into a toothy grin. “Why wouldn’t I? They are but mayflies compared to you and I. All you have to do is summon a bit of lighting and the mortals tremble in fear. Such creatures cannot hope to govern themselves. They were meant to be ruled and you deserve their respect.”
Thor shook his head, the look on his face now openly troubled. “I would not gain their respect through fear, Loki.”
Loki blinked in confusion, Thor’s reaction and the direction the conversation was going unexpected. “But how else would you gain it?”
“Loki… A wise ruler does not govern through fear. I have earned the love and respect of these people by coming to their aid when their need has been great. I’ve tilled their fields and brought rain upon their crops to help keep their bellies full. I’ve stood by the mortals' side in battle and defended their homes from many foes.”
Thor cupped Loki’s neck and brushed his thumb against his cheek. “These mortal men may not share our strengths and they may look small to our eyes, but one’s size is not the measure of their worth. You most of all should know that,” Thor said tenderly.
Loki’s mouth fell open, but no words came out; Thor had rendered him speechless. The old feeling of inferiority Loki had struggled with for most of his life was suddenly fresh in his heart and he lowered his eyes as memories of living as a runt among the jötnar in a land where only the strong survived and the weak were left to fend for themselves came flooding back.
Perhaps Loki had more in common with these humans than he liked to admit.
Thor cupped his chin, urging Loki to meet his eyes. “Do you see what I am trying to tell you?”
“Aye,” Loki nodded, taken aback by the wisdom in Thor’s words. It was not the kind of wisdom one learned from dusty old tomes, this wisdom came from the heart. Loki smiled and raised his hand to run his fingers through Thor’s braided hair. “You will make a fine king one day.”
Thor let out a quiet huff of laughter, but his eyes were as earnest as his words when he spoke. “I will, for I’ll have you by my side.”
The sky above the temple was alight with stars and bright green aurorae as Thor led Loki to a large tree near the lofty building. The display of lights continued to remind Loki of his old home beyond the mountains, the ghost of past loneliness lingering in his heart.
But Thor was here now, warm against his body and distracting Loki with soft kisses as he supported his weight with his arms, hiking up the long tunic to grab at his bare ass underneath it.
The need in Loki's heart was great tonight and he unfastened Thor’s breeches to slip his hand inside, his cock warm and heavy in Loki’s grip. He pressed it against his own arousal, grinding them together in his fist as they began to thrust against each other, their hips moving in perfect synch.
“Fuck me, now,” Loki demanded between their wet, almost biting kisses.
Thor’s nostrils flared at the request and he slipped his hand between Loki's thighs, seeking out his cunt and fitting three thick fingers into Loki's passage.
“I’m ready, Thor,” Loki sighed, already slick and open from arousal. "I'm ready."
He reached down to pull out Thor’s fingers and wrapped his hand around his cock to guide it to his opening, letting out a quiet wail of pleasure when Thor thrust inside in one smooth stroke.
Loki panted as he felt Thor swell and grow fully hard inside him. He bared his neck to Thor and watched the play of lights above their heads as Thor laved and bit the tender skin above his clavicle. He wondered if the humans had any idea of the prowess Thor possessed in the more carnal matters, wishing they would come and see how their god fucked, and who his heart truly belonged to.
Loki let out a surprised gasp and his cunt clenched around Thor’s cock as Thor stroked his fingers against the stub of Loki’s horn, brushing against the sensitive ridges near the scalp. He buried his face in Loki's dark hair, inhaling his scent, the sudden flow of his warm seed inside him sending Loki over the edge.
"You're mine. Mine," he whispered, sinking his nails into Thor’s shoulders as he spilled on his belly.
They spent the next few weeks hunting game in the nearby woods and sleeping underneath the stars whenever the nights were mild, but Thor did not take them near any settlements, thinking it wise to avoid unnecessary contact with the mortals, for Loki’s attitude towards them still gave him some doubts.
It was an early morning shortly after the humans had celebrated autumn blót when Thor woke to familiar cawing outside their tent. He scratched his beard and glanced down at Loki who slept soundly in the furs, his soft snores and snuffles warming Thor's shoulder.
He lingered in the furs until the bird calls began to grow insistent and Thor knew he had no choice but to crawl out of their warm cot. He peeked out through the flaps of the tent and saw his father’s ravens perched in the nearby ash tree, flapping their wings in the blue light of early morning.
“All is well at home?” Thor inquired through a mighty yawn.
The birds remained silent, their eyes darting around the campsite.
“All is well,” Thor derived from their silence. He pulled on his breeches and stepped out to poke at the embers in their fire from last night.
Huginn bounced on the branch and turned his gaze away when Loki stumbled out of the tent, as naked as he had been after last night’s tumble in the furs.
“What are those two doing here?” Loki muttered, glaring at the Allfather's little spies.
“I believe it is time for us to return home,” Thor said. “Sól’s anger must be soothed by now and the weather will be back to normal."
”That’s a pity,” Loki pouted, wrapping his arms around Thor’s shoulders. “I was enjoying our little adventure here.”
They broke fast and packed the pelts from their kills into the cart before heading back to the Bifröst site further up north.
The goats were being exceptionally stubborn, refusing to be ordered out of their lazy gait and stopping to eat the grass that grew on the side of the road whenever they felt like it. Thor didn’t mind the slow pace and he held the reins in a loose grip, humming old drinking songs while Loki slumbered at his side, his head lolling against Thor’s shoulder.
It was early evening when something ahead caught Thor's eye: a long line of torches that moved along the road like a glowing serpent. There were many frightened wails in the wind and Thor jostled Loki awake.
“Hmmh? What is it?"
“Norsemen,” Thor said, pointing at the road ahead. “They seem to be in some manner of distress.”
They threw their hoods on, not wanting to startle the mortals with their identity, and they waited by the side of the road as the line of men drew closer. Most of them turned out to be women and young children, accompanied by a few elderly men and women.
“What troubles you, my good man?” Thor asked the young warrior who seemed to be leading the party. He used the Allspeak and the man replied in kind.
“I am to lead these people to the temple for safety, for we have been forced out of our homes by monstrous giants from the eastern lands,” the warrior said, his voice laden with anger and fear, “they come at night and slaughter our livestock, leaving nothing but wreck in their wake. Terrible, beastly, creatures with skin like frost and eyes as red as freshly spilled blood.”
"Aye! They are monsters!" a young woman wailed, and others joined her.
Thor had no time to react as Loki jumped up to his feet and cast his cloak aside.
“Do these monsters bear any resemblance to the face you see before you, human?” Loki spat, his teeth bared in an angry snarl.
Screams of horror began to spread down the long line of men like ripples in the water. The warrior brandished his sword, pointing it at Loki, and the many torches around them were suddenly much too close.
Loki growled at the humans and Thor noticed the seiðr forming in his hands. He stood up and pulled Loki against his chest, holding him back.
“Loki, calm down, calm down.”
Loki panted in his arms, angry hisses escaping through his gritted teeth, but the spells in his hands fizzled out, and Thor finally released his hold on him.
The goats bleated and bucked wildly, frightened by the flaming torches and the growing tension in the air.
“This man is not your enemy,” Thor told the people around them, his voice calm but commanding.
“But he is clearly one of them, even if he is but a child,” the warrior insisted, refusing to lower his sword, “stand back and let me strike this beast down!”
The cart shook as Loki made another attempt to get his claws on the young warrior, but Thor held him back, winding his arm around Loki’s waist. The situation was getting out of hand, and Thor finally smacked the reins, urging the goats into a fast trot.
They dashed through the harvested fields and Loki clawed at Thor’s forearm as he struggled to free himself of his hold, but Thor held on.
They didn’t slow down until the line of torches had grown into a distant red glow.
”Let go of me, you brute!” Loki snarled, and Thor finally released his hold of him.
Loki glared at him, looking betrayed. “You should have let me slay that man! Did you not hear how he threatened me?”
“We must help them, Loki.”
“What?! Help them?” Loki shrieked. His eyes flashed deep red with barely contained fury. “I would rather dine in Hel than offer my help to those fools. They tried to harm me!”
“You know I would never let anyone hurt you, Loki, but you were not in any real danger,” Thor replied. “Their mortal weapons can do no damage to us, but even your simplest spells could have killed that young warrior.”
Loki seemed oddly soothed by Thor’s words, the look on his face almost flattered as his anger subsided.
“We should at least investigate if the man’s claims have any truth to them. If Jötnar are crossing the borders to terrorize these lands, it is my duty to help."
The look Loki gave Thor made it very clear that he did not understand or share Thor’s willingness to help these people, but he complied all the same. “Fine, let us investigate then.”
The village was nearly deserted when they got there, the windows of each house dark save for the mead hall at the center of the village. Thor stopped the cart in the shadows near the gates and turned to rummage through one of the chests in the back. He drew out Loki’s falcon plumes and handed them over, the look on his face apologetic.
“I am sorry…” Thor brushed Loki’s horn with his knuckles as he handed the robes to him, “but it will be easier if they do not see your true form.”
Loki shot him a scowl but said nothing as he threw the cloak over himself and transformed.
Thor entered the village with Loki perched on his shoulder in his falcon form and they made their way to the longhouse, stepping into the smoky hall, the smell of mead and animal grease strong in the air. All the remaining warriors were gathered around the large firepit and Thor could tell they were in the middle of an emergency assembly. He remained at the back, opting to observe quietly.
There was heated discussion all around them, men yelling over each other, some of them banging their spears against their shields while others shook their heads in an attempt to calm the most eager battle mongers.
The old jarl sat in his high chair at the back of the hall, his head bowed in quiet defeat. The men around him looked to their leader to make a decision, but Thor saw the jarl was overwhelmed by the burdens that rested on his shoulders.
“What are we to do?” one of the men shouted.
“We cannot cower like babes behind their mothers’ skirts and wait for those monsters to destroy our homes,” another one answered.
They spoke in their own tongue and Thor could feel Loki’s agitated movements on his shoulder. He ran his fingers along Loki’s silky feathers in a calming manner, quietly murmuring into his ear and explaining what the assembly was about.
“We cannot hope to defeat them. It is folly,” an old man in the back cried out, shaking his head at the warriors that hungered for battle. “You did not see the size of them, they killed my brother Éinar with one single blow.”
The shouting ceased when the doors of the hall were thrown open and a young man ran inside, his face ashen and eyes wide with fear.
“They have returned,” he gasped.
Thor had to step aside as the men crowded toward the door, spilling out of the hall with their weapons held high and their shields ready. He followed them to the village square where the warriors had already settled into battle formation.
It was deadly quiet all around them and only the sheep inside the nearby barn house continued to bleat nervously. Loki let out a high-pitched call, turning his head from side to side. His small red eyes met Thor’s blue ones in silent communication, and Thor wrapped his fingers around Mjöllnir’s hilt, ready to let her fly.
The treetops in the surrounding forest began to sway and the earth trembled with heavy footsteps.
“Over there!” someone called as a dark shape emerged from the wood.
The creature broke through the timber fence around the village as if it were made of mere sticks and crashed through the narrow pathways between the houses, bringing down large chunks of the roofing.
The figure came to stand before the wall of shields in the clearing. Thor was at once taken aback by the giant’s appearance, for he bore the red mark of royal blood over his eyes. His massive horns twisted toward his back, thick and unbroken, but he had a lean, hungry look about him that spoke of years of starvation.
The warriors stood their ground, showing no fear even as the ground continued to shake. Thor watched as five more jötnar broke through the fences and stalked to the clearing, surrounding the men on all sides.
There was a cruel look in their red eyes and their intent to harm was unmistakable.
Loki took flight as Thor threw aside his cloak. The scales of his armor settled to his arms and he held Mjöllnir high above his head.
“I am Thor of Asgard and these men are under my protection,” he bellowed, stepping between the mortals and the hulking giants.
Lightning crackled between his fingers in a sign of warning, and there was a clatter of shields and spears as some of the humans stood up in shock, breaking their formation, all eyes fixed on Thor.
“We know who you are, Thunderer,” the leader of the jötnar drawled, leaning down to peer at Thor, “and we do not fear you, for you stand alone against the might of six jötnar. You are outnumbered, little áss.”
“He does not stand alone, Byleistr.”
Loki flew down, landing between Thor and his brother. Byleistr’s red eyes widened with genuine surprise at the sight of his estranged brother, but he quickly schooled his features into indifference.
The humans around them watched them in confused fear, puzzled by the tiny jötunn that had appeared out of thin air.
“He does not stand alone," Loki repeated, "for these mortal men are also under my protection,” he announced, his head held high in spite of the considerable size difference between him and his kin.
Thor’s mouth split into a proud grin at Loki’s words and he moved to stand by his side, giving Loki’s shoulder a firm squeeze.
Byleistr watched them with narrowed eyes, his sudden booming laughter startling some of the humans and sending them to hide behind their colorful shields.
“We always knew you to be of traitorous blood, little brother,” Byleistr said, “but I never imagined you to sink this low.” He cast a mocking look at Loki’s broken horn before moving his gaze to Thor, his eyes full of contempt. “First you were a tool for the witch in the Ironwood and now you spread your legs for the scum of Asgard like a common whore. You bring great shame to our bloodline. Laufey-King was right to banish you from his hall.”
Thor’s nostrils flared at the insults. “You dare speak such words about your own kin?” He began to spin Mjöllnir in a wide arc, the lighting on his fingers traveling up along his arms and lighting up his eyes with the glow of bloodshed.
“Thor, no.” Loki placed a hand on Thor’s shoulder and the lightning simmered down almost instantly. “No. Let me handle this.”
Thor gave Loki a confused look, but he stepped back as Loki approached his brother.
“If you believe all those rumors, then you should also know of the end the old Sorrow-Bringer met in the hands of this very áss and his whore.” Loki spoke the word as if it were something to take pride in.
The jötnar exchanged nervous looks, and Thor saw word of Angrboða’s demise had indeed reached the hall of Laufey.
The ancient völva had been a thorn in Jötunheimr’s flesh long before either Thor or Loki had been born, and her evil deeds seemed to strike fear in the hearts of jötnar even fifty years after her defeat, for the giants began to fidget, their fierce features suddenly twisting with visible unease.
“As I said, these humans are under our protection. You will go back to your cold wastes and you will not return to this land.”
One of the smaller giants snarled and took a step forward, a large blade of ice sprouting out of his fist. Thor moved with instinct, shielding Loki with his own body, but the blade never struck them. Byleistr let out a snarl and the young giant backed away reluctantly, his red eyes burning with rage as he was forced to crush the blade and let it crumble to the ground.
Byleistr eyed the mortals until he finally made a subtle motion with his arm and the giants retreated back into the woods where they’d emerged from. He turned to look over his shoulder to exchange one last look with Loki.
”If you ever show your face within our borders again, little brother, I will kill you myself.”
The humans lowered their weapons and swarmed around Thor like ants, their eyes alight with deep awe. One by one, they sank to one knee in front of their god as words of gratitude echoed in the crowd.
Loki stood silently behind Thor's back, watching as the jarl pushed through the mass of warriors to present Thor with a gift. It was a large ornamental sword, simple and frail by Asgardian standards, but it was the gesture that truly mattered.
The mortals’ faces fell when Thor refused their token of gratitude.
“It was not I who drove the giants away tonight,” Thor spoke in the Alltongue. “You should pay your respects to Loki Silvertongue, for it was his wise words that saved your village from further calamity."
Thor stepped aside and the warriors’ attention turned to Loki, the look on his face mirroring the uneasy confusion of the mortals. They observed each other, and Thor could tell some of the men were having a difficult time deciding what to make of Loki, for he shared the appearance of their enemy, but his actions spoke of benevolence.
The uneasiness continued to grow until the jarl finally stepped forward, kneeling in front of Loki and offering the sword to their unlikely savior.
Loki stared, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as men began to fall back down on one knee, following the example of their leader. He licked his lips, his chest heaving as he reached out with a trembling hand and accepted the boon he was offered.
Thor had not seen Loki so visibly moved in years and his heart swelled with joy as he watched Loki draw the sword from its scabbard and run his fingers along the intricate details on the hilt.
The jarl looked pleased by Loki's reaction to his gift, but many of the men in the crowd continued to stare at Loki with barely concealed suspicion, murmuring whispered words into each other's ears.
Loki looked up from the sword, his red eyes travelling from one bowed head to another. His mouth split into a wide, almost hungry, smile, the silence around them stretching. He held the sword up, the blade glinting in the moonlight, Loki’s chest heaving with his excited breaths. The jarl’s pleased expression became confused as the men around them began to fidget nervously.
Thor shifted his weight from one foot to the other, refusing to give the uneasy feeling in the back of his mind room to grow.
Loki turned to look at Thor, as if to make sure Thor was watching as he finally stepped forward to place his hand on the jarl’s bowed head.
“Thank you,” Loki said in the tongue of men, his accent almost too thick to understand. “You may build an idol in my likeness in your temples, for what better way to show your gratitude and adoration-“
Thor cleared his throat, fighting back a laugh as he arched his brows at Loki.
Really?
Loki gave him a sheepish grin and allowed Thor to lead him away as they bid farewell to the confused mortals.
Loki studied the sword as they traveled in the space between realms. The blade was impressively detailed and of great value to mortal men, even if the iron would shatter against most foes in the Nine Realms. Loki had certainly seen better forging, but the value of the sword was not in the strength of the material, but in the manner it had been handed to him.
Never before had anyone shown such willing submission to him.
Loki was startled out of his thoughts by Thor’s hand around his shoulders. “I’m proud of you, Loki. The men of that village will not soon forget your name.”
"Times in Jötunheimr must be dire indeed if Laufey allows such raids across the border."
Thor's face grew serious, his hold on the reins tightening. “Those things your brother spoke of… the things he called you-”
“Were not so different from the things they say about me in Asgard,” Loki said dryly. “Do not worry. I am used to it.”
Thor yanked at the reins as his temper flared and the goats snorted, tossing and turning their heads in confusion.
“Thor…” Loki laid a calming hand on Thor’s shoulder and held it there until the goats had settled back into their steady gait.
“Let them speak," Thor growled defiantly. "You are the one I intend to have by my side until the ending of the worlds, Loki. One day, our firstborn will sit on the throne of Asgard, no amount of slander and wicked words can change that.”
Loki startled a little at the mention of children and his thoughts lingered briefly on the monstrous wolf he had begot with Angrboða almost half a century ago, but as he turned his eyes back to Thor, he was reminded that half of their offspring would be of Thor. That half could not possibly be anything but good.
“One day,” Loki whispered, leaning his head against Thor’s shoulder as the Bifröst led them toward home.