“No need to look so menacing, sweetheart.” Loki murmured in your ear. “This is the elven king I am treating with, not a horde of orcs.”
You bit your lip, trying to ignore the tingles down your spine.
The flush on your cheeks, the quickening of your breath. There was nothing that made a Valkyrie’s blood run hotter than the prospect of danger.
He had insisted on your company this night. For protection, he claimed. The Mirkwood elves were lean, war-hardened creatures with wild, dangerous temperaments. A valuable asset in Loki’s quest in gaining his rightful place as king and ruler of Asgard. But it was yet to be determined whether the king of the Woodland Realm was ally or adversary.
The elven procession was approaching, and the last thing you needed was to be distracted by his throaty sensuality, the electrifying warmth of his close proximity. You pulled from him in annoyance, adrenaline rushing. You had to focus.
The elven king strode forward in his brocade robes, hair cascading down his shoulders like a silver waterfall. He eyed Loki with a cool disdain, his nose upturned.
Loki gave him a charming grin and bowed, half mockingly. “Thranduil.”
Thranduil narrowed his eyes, looking hard at the Asgardian. Then his gaze fell on you.
You had not expected to see fire in the piercing blue. He tilted his head ever the so slightly. Suddenly a red-haired elf by him leapt towards Loki, silver blade flashing.
You blocked her sword with your twin daggers, inches from Loki’s face. You could hear the pounding of your heart, feel the maddening heat racing through you. She ducked as you swiped at her, and kicked your legs from under you. As you fell, you threw a dagger at her face. She knocked it from the air. You used the distraction to slam her in her shins. Her arms were pinned down with your knees, your remaining dagger against her throat. You glared triumphantly up at the elven king. Your breath was ragged now. Your lips were parched, your chest tight and heaving against your breastplate.
A faint smile played on the elven king’s lips. “…Quite a fighter you have protecting your mirage, Loki.”
You ground your teeth. The bastard. He brought you here not because he couldn’t protect himself, but to watch you burn. And he was enjoying every minute of it.
There was a rush of wind behind you as the mirage vanished. A warm, familiar hand grazed your shoulder. The sensation was almost painful. The real Loki had materialized, wearing his full regalia. Slowly, you released the elf and pulled yourself to your feet, every cell on fire.
“It seems as if elves are not easily deceived by Asgardian magic,” Loki laughed, shrugging. “I am impressed. Although I still don’t know what the fuss is about. I thought we had already reached an agreement.”
“We had. But you have yet to fulfill your side of the bargain.”
“Killing a dragon is no easy task; you know firsthand the dangers of facing such a beast. Surely there is something else I can offer in the meantime for a few thousand men.”
Thranduil was quiet, his expression unreadable. Then he turned to you and stared you dead in the eye. “…The Valkyrie, perhaps?”
Loki narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “I’m afraid the Valkyrie is not mine to give,” he lied smoothly. “She serves me on her own free will.”
“I see,” Thranduil said softly, his gaze lingering as if he were drinking you in. “I will give you time to consider a counter proposal. You and your Valkyrie are welcome to stay in Mirkwood in the meanwhile.”
He turned on his heel, his elven guards following after him deep into to the woods.
“Your rise to my defense was unusually slow tonight,” Loki said gruffly, cupping your chin and tilting it towards him. “You seem…distracted.”
Your senses still simmered from the brush with violence. He was too close, his lips a sensual flick away. His breath was warm on your face, his grasp firm.
“I promised to defend you. I was not aware I was to defend your shadows as well.“
He trailed his fingers down your face. “…I gave you freedom to choose how you serve me. If you’ve chosen to protect me, then protect me.”
You swallowed a low moan. Stupid hormones. Stupid Loki.
You swatted his hand away irritably. "Are we heading to Mirkwood?”
“You’ve but just met the king of elves, and now you’re so anxious to go to Mirkwood,” he said sourly, wrenching his gaze from you.
“…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Fine then.” He snapped. “We will go to Laketown first. Watching you fight has me worked up to quite an appetite.”
Loki’s “appetite” tonight was a voluptuous brunette and a lean, spritely red-head. You stood by in silent indifference as he hooked the tavern girls with the slightest crook of his finger, the seductive curve of his smile. How effortlessly the gods enthralled the mortals.
He spirited the four of you to the Halls of the Woodland King, where the elves were expecting your company. The elven guards raised their eyebrows at the humans but said nothing, showing you to the guest quarters.
Once in his room, he threw himself on the plush feather bed and gathered the two giggling women into his arms.
“Such delightful hospitality!” He drawled mockingly, grabbing a pillow. “Silks! Satin! Courtesy of the splendid elven king Thranduil, the only elf in the whole galaxy with a stick permanently up his arse!”
The red-head guffawed too loudly.
“They say a dragon shredded half his face,” the brunette rasped dramatically. “He uses magic to mask his disfigurement.”
“Oooh, battle scars!” Loki snickered. “Is that why you couldn’t take your eyes off him earlier, Valkyrie? He’s just your type!”
“…It’s late. I’ll take my leave.” You said flatly, heading towards the door.
The way he looked at you then, like a storm cloud had swallowed engulfed the sun.
“…You know I brought them here in jest,” He said quietly, the laughter gone from his voice. “Stay, and I will send them away.”
Spiteful, petty, jealous god. You can play that game too.
“…Good night, my lord,” you muttered, and closed the door.
The Mirkwood guards let you out of the cold stone halls and into the fresh silence of the woods. You leaned over railings of woven branches, overlooking the waterfall, the water crashing down against jagged rocks.
It had been three years since Loki claimed your life-debt. Six months since he began following you with eyes of forlorn longing.
Were he not in exile, he would never have given you a second glance. You knew it was only his loneliness that drove him to you.
A part of you hated him for it. Another part of you secretly yearned.
“It is not safe in these woods alone at night.”
The voice was low, soft as distant thunder. Your hands were on your blades, your breath caught in your throat. It was the elven king, pale under the moonlight like a silver ghost. He leaned against the trunk of a gnarled tree only a few feet away. You did not know how long he had been standing there, watching you.
You should have sensed his presence. How could you not have seen him? The base instinct of fight or flight took hold, adrenaline streaking through you like lightning as it did earlier in the night. Danger, your body purred. Delicious, delightful danger.
“I can fend for myself,” you murmured.
He drew closer. He was very tall. With broad, muscular shoulders and heavy-set chest. There was something very carnal about the way his robe flashed blood orange against blackened silver, and you could not help wonder what sort of man one would find beneath the brocade.
“I have seen for myself how a Valkyrie is a force to be reckoned with. Odin must truly regret having lost one of his finest warriors.”
“He regrets nothing,” you growled, your temper rising at the thought of the tyrannical old buzzard. “If he had his way, I would be burning alive on a pyre. Loki smuggled me from Asgard, before I could be executed.”
"A Valkyrie’s life spared is her life owed. So you do belong to Loki.”
There was that slight smile again. You could feel him studying you, a tiger eyeing its prey.
"He holds my life-debt. I belong to no one.”
“But you are precious to him.” His words dripped from his lips like honey. “Guard, soldier, assassin. Bound by honor to fight, to kill as commanded by whomever holds your debt.”
You nodded. “To go against the honor of a life-debt is lethal for Valkyries. Our hearts would stop mid-beat should we refuse to kill or defend as ordered.”
“Can a Valkyrie life-debt be transferred?”
The elven king’s expression was unreadable. You bit your lip.
“…Why do you ask?”
There was no mirth behind his smile. “I have a twisted dagger scar that runs between my shoulder blades. A jagged parting gift from one who had, up until then, been my confidant and most trusted bodyguard. I have made many enemies over the years, and I need someone I can trust. Loyalty, like trust, must be earned. But honor…” He took your hand and raised it to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. “Honor is intrinsic. If it is honor that binds you to your god, then I will have that same honor bind you to me.“
Hey read this please especially if you like to help writers or RP!!!!!
Okay so I wanted to put this out there…. I am gay…… hahahaha jk thats not the big news….. y'all probs already knew that…. You can sense the rainbows….. Anywho for a lot of my stories I RP to get ideas to go off of for my writing. I usually have a base story Idea and then I usually have @rainbowspouses help me. She has basically become my certified writing helper XD. And as much as I love Rping with her //because she is a writer and it helps so fucking much//. We cant cover all the fandoms in the world that I want to write for…. There just isn’t enough time. So if you would like to help please please please DM me!!!!! It would help so much!!!! Thxs babes!!! MWAH💜🐢💜🐢💜🐢
P.S. You will ALWAYS get credit for helping me!!!! When u DM me just tell me what fandoms you’d be willing to help rp with and if you ever want me to leave you anonymous just tell me and I will!!!! 🐢💜