Chapter 2
Several weeks later.
The silk of the sheets whispered against your skin. The material was bunched around your waist, leaving your torso bare. You were snuggled against Bucky’s chest, his cool metal hand tracing the Goddess ruins which were inked up your spine. He was half asleep, drifting peacefully between the two states, a content hum rumbling in his chest as you cuddle closer.
“Tell me about your mother,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead and then burying his nose in your hair.
You smile a secret smile. Bucky’s fascination with your mythology was endearing. He would often ask you about your family, and at this point, he knew more about your history than the Edda’s portrayed. You had told him all the Saga’s had left out.
“My mother was the giantess Angrboda. She was seen as a mother goddess. The Queen of the Ironwood. Ruler of a clan of werewolves. She was most wise, if not a bit temperamental. Even so, she possessed a calmness about her, which was to her credit. Loki is a handful after all.”
Bucky chuckles. “The Asgardians accepted her as a possible queen? I thought they hated the giants?”
You shake your head slightly. “My father's second wife, Sigyn, was seen as a possible queen. My mother was a queen in her own right. Loki acted as her consort. My mother was never going to bow to him. I think he rather liked it.”
Bucky pauses, “Your father has two wives?”
“Of course,” you smile. “Angrboda was his first wife. He spent half the year living with her in the Ironwood, and the other with Sigyn on Asgard. Together, my parents had three children. I am the only one who can pass as human.”
“Your brothers?” Bucky asks.
“Aye, my brothers. Fenrir, he took the shape of a wolf. He is mighty and wise, but the gods hate us. Odin led the charge. There was a prophecy, one which said we would bring about Ragnarok. I was banished to Helheim, though, I think Odin still regrets the decision. I don’t think he foresaw the extent of my power.” Bucky pulls you closer. “Fenrir was chained to a rock with a magical rope made by the dwarves. His jaw was kept open by a magical device so he could not bite. His howls were agony for those who loved him. I traded his freedom for Baldr’s soul. He now lives in Helheim, guarding my gates against those who would harm me.”
“And the other?”
“Jormungandr. The world serpent. He took the form of a snake. Odin was so disgusted by him, he threw him into the sea. My brother grew so large, he wrapped around the world and could grasp his own tail. When he releases his tail Ragnarok will begin. It is said that it is only he who could kill Thor.”
“What will happen in Ragnarok?”
You sigh sadly. “The prophecy says that Fenrir will escape his chains and swallow the sun. Odin will fall to him, locked between his jaws. Jormungandr and Thor will slay one another. Gods and Giants will battle and die. The world will descend into a hail of fire and death.”
“And you?”
You laugh humorlessly. “I will ride out to join my father with an army of the dead at my back. I will sweep across the world, taking the souls of Gods and men alike. Valkyries will fall to my touch and, I will no longer be bound by my oath to Odin. All shall be ruled by the Queen of the dead.”
Bucky swallows thickly. “And Loki?”
You kiss him tenderly, assuaging his nerves. “Loki will return to my mother. His love for her is powerful. I have heard talk that he will make my aunt his slave, but I believe that it is pure rumor, borne from the hair incident.”
Bucky’s brow furrows adorably. “Aunt? Hair incident?”
“Thor’s wife. Sif.”
Bucky sputters and sits bolt upright.
You huff in annoyance as you are dislodged from your place on his chest.
His eyes are comically wide. “Thor is married?”
Giggling, you prop yourself on your elbows. “Of course. He is the King. He was betrothed to Sif as soon as she was born. They married when they both came of age.”
“But... Jane?”
“Multiple marriages are not frowned upon, Bucky. It is not uncommon for a man to have multiple wives or for a woman to have more than one husband. I seem to remember Sif and Baldr having a steamy affair. There are no animosities.”
Bucky lays back down, bringing you to his chest once again. He seems to contemplate your words, running the scenarios through his head before he nods. “What about this hair incident?”
“Sif has long golden hair. It was the envy of all the gods. One night, Loki snuck into her bedchambers and chopped it all off. Thor was furious and demanded recompense. My father, who felt slight guilt at Sif’s sorrow, approached the dwarves who spun magical gold threads which attached to her scalp. It is most beautiful. Like a river of molten gold.”
Bucky hums again, rolling you onto your back. He peppers kisses down your exposed throat. Bites down on the top of your breast and soothes the sting with his tongue. You gasp and arch, earning a dark chuckle from the soldier.
You card your fingers into his hair and bring his lips to yours. You kiss him slowly, lovingly, savoring the taste of him. Bucky moans into the kiss, nibbling on your lower lip, but you pull away, releasing his hair and tracing the line of his jaw.
“Have you spoken to Steve recently?” you ask breathlessly, the dampening between your legs put on hold as the image of your closest friend flashes in your mind.
“You wanna talk about Stevie now?” Bucky replies incredulously.
His erection is insistent against your lower stomach, and you shove at his shoulder. Bucky grunts and rolls over, so you can deposit yourself in his lap and grind down lightly. “He’s been distant and sullen as of late, James,” you reply.
Bucky’s hand travels up your torso and cups your breast, his hips matching yours. “I’ve noticed,” he replies. He sits upright and moves your hair to the side so he can suck your earlobe between his lips.
“Mmm. It’s gotten worse since we informed the team of our relationship.”
Bucky hums in acknowledgment.
You raise your hips, position him at your entrance, and sink down slowly. A prolonged moan leaves your lips.
“I’ll talk to him,” Bucky grits out shakily as he begins to move, his hands traveling to your waist. His grip is near bruising as he moves your hips in an eight-figure.
You lean back, your hands placed on his thick thighs. Bucky’s gaze moves to where he is disappearing inside of you and soon all thoughts of Steve are forgotten.