Chapter 42
My head was tucked into the crook of his neck, and I felt him press a soft kiss into my hair.
“Aurora, there is something I wish to ask,” he said gently.
“Ask,” I murmured, too comfortable to move.
“What do you know about Æsir fertility?” he asked.
I shifted just enough to meet his eyes. “Sif explained a while back that it’s difficult for Æsir to get pregnant, and that it’s considered a big honor—something to be celebrated—if a child is conceived.”
Loki nodded. “The thing is, even half-Æsir are afflicted with this lack of fertility.” His eyes searched mine, clearly trying to gauge my reaction.
I hadn’t really thought about it before. I hoped it might be something we’d experience in the future, but it wasn’t something that kept me awake at night.
“What is it you want to ask me?” I asked, curious.
He took a slow breath. “I have been preventing you from becoming pregnant every time we made love. Just to make sure it would never happen against your wishes, even though the odds are slim.”
I could feel how important this was to him. So I stayed quiet and let him continue.
“If you wish for me to keep doing so, I will, without hesitation. But…” He paused, and I could feel the weight of everything left unsaid.
“But it feels wrong for you to stop it,” I said softly, “when you’ve been raised to see it as a blessing.”
He nodded. “Yes—but not just that. I love you, so very deeply. There is nothing I want more than to build a life with you, and someday… a family. You are mine, and I am yours, forever. Like my father said, nothing can break our love. It makes me want to just let nature take its course and hope that one day… we’re blessed with a child.”
I thought about it. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that part of life just yet, but I couldn’t deny the truth of his logic—or how much it clearly meant to him.
“Loki… are you sure I’m just as fertile—or infertile—as other Æsir women?” I asked.
He placed a hand gently over my stomach, and I felt the soft pulse of his Seiðr. He closed his eyes, focusing. When he opened them again, I already knew the answer from the sadness in his expression.
“Yes. You have the same fertility as any other Æsir woman,” he said softly.
I hugged him tightly. He had hoped—quietly, deeply—that I might be different. I could feel his love, his hope, his longing for a future that included a family. And the truth was, I wanted the same.
Knowing that it might take hundreds of years made the choice easier.
“Then I’m okay with it,” I said, meeting his eyes. “You don’t have to prevent anything.”
The smile that broke across his face was absolutely brilliant. He kissed me deeply, pulling back only to rest his forehead against mine.
“You’ve just made me very happy, Aurora. Thank you.”
We got lost in each other’s eyes for a moment before he sighed, wistfully.
“I wish the formal courting was a step we could skip,” he muttered. “If I had my way, I would marry you tomorrow—just so the whole world would know you’re mine.”
I smiled. “Well, our bond is already kind of like marriage, right?”
“Yes. But I want the realm to know I love you, and that you love me.” His hand moved to the back of my neck, and I felt his Seiðr reactivate the concealment spell on our rune. I did the same to his. “Though even when we’re married, I think we should keep the bond itself a secret. It would make you an even greater target if anyone realized hurting you meant hurting me.”
“I’m yours,” I whispered, kissing his nose. “As soon as it’s politically acceptable, I’ll marry you. Let all of Asgard know I’m yours—and that I love you.”
His emotions surged with warmth, and I could feel just how deeply he loved me.
“If you are serious,” he said with a grin, “you should let that slip to my mother. I am willing to wager she’s already planning our wedding in secret. I have never seen her so happy as when we revealed our runes.”
I laughed. “Can you blame her? If I ever had a child, I’d want them to find what we have. Their one true match. Their soulmate. Just think about how impossible it was for us to find each other. If I hadn’t somehow come to Asgard, through time… I might’ve been found by someone else. Or no one at all. If I hadn’t mixed my blood with Fenrir’s, I’d still be human, with a lifespan of what—ninety years?”
Loki blinked like an owl. I felt a shiver ripple through him, and he pulled me tighter.
“Do not remind me of that ever again,” he said with a shaky voice. “I know how lucky I am that you came into my life. The idea that anything could’ve kept us from each other—could’ve taken you away before we had a life together—is terrifying. I never believed in fate. I always thought we had to forge our own paths. But for this… I don’t know who or what brought you into my life, but I’ll be grateful for it forever.”
I nestled into his chest, feeling his emotions still swirling. I wanted to lift his mood again—he’d taken that harder than I expected.
“How long do you think we have before dinner?” I asked, listening to his heartbeat.
“A few hours at least.”
I sighed. “Then I think I should go take a bath and ask Yara about my clothes. I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear tonight.”
Loki grinned and swept me into his arms.
“You seem to forget something, my love,” he said as he walked toward the bookcase.
I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”
He pulled a book, stepping into the passage to my room and continuing straight into the bathroom.
“You have another servant now,” he said with a wicked grin, “who is more than happy to help.”
I laughed when, with a small flick of his hand, our clothes vanished and, within moments, we were both seated in blissfully warm water. Loki reached for a few glass vials and mixed scented oils into the bath, the fragrance rising in soft, soothing curls around us. Then he gently pushed me down a little so he could wet my hair.
I heard him hum contently as he began to massage my scalp with another oil blend. The moment was so peaceful, so tender, that it brought back a memory of him brushing and styling my hair.
“You seem to like doing this,” I said as I relaxed back against his chest.
“I find that I do,” he replied honestly. “I do not know why, but I cannot seem to get enough of even the simplest things with you. Sleeping beside you. Bathing you. Washing your hair. I love the way you feel in my arms, and I have this deep, almost instinctive urge to care for you. Not just protect you from harm, but take care of you in these small, quiet ways. Carrying you, brushing your hair, holding you close... they bring me peace.”
I turned slightly so I could look up at him.
“You know you don’t have to, right? I mean, this feels amazing, and I absolutely love it when you pamper me like this. But I’m with you because I love you, not because I expect all of this.”
He smiled. “I know. And that’s one of the many reasons I love you so deeply.”
With a little smile of his own, he gently guided me to turn back around so he could rinse my hair.
When he was done, I offered to wash him in return, but he refused. His logic was frustratingly sound—if I put my hands on him, he said, we’d never make it out of the bath without me begging for mercy. And since this was the one dinner we couldn’t afford to be late for, I reluctantly agreed.
We got out of the bath amid a fit of laughter, thanks to Loki deciding I was far too easy to torture and required tickling. Once we’d mostly calmed down, we returned to my bedroom. Loki dressed quickly, pulling on a formal ensemble in black with green and gold accents. Unlike his usual leather, this outfit was made from soft, flowing fabric, and it suited him beautifully. His hair was slicked back, and I noticed for the first time how much it had grown since our early days together.
I reached up to comb my fingers through it. He closed his eyes at the touch, a soft sigh escaping him.
“Do you mind it longer?” he asked, as I wrapped myself in a robe to ward off the chill.
I shook my head. “No, I like it. But you should wear it how you like.”
He smiled. “I have been thinking of letting it grow longer.” He leaned close, his lips brushing my ear. “I love the way it feels when your fingers move through it. I have... fantasies of you tugging it viciously in the throes of passion.”
The butterflies in my stomach practically exploded, and I instantly questioned every life choice that had led me out of that bathtub. Loki grinned devilishly and turned to my wardrobe, casually opening the doors to examine my dresses.
I sat back on the bed, watching him with amusement as I felt the joy radiating off him. He was thoroughly enjoying himself, carefully inspecting each gown in my collection. Eventually, he pulled out a lovely light blue dress that I’d never worn before—an elegant blend of Elven and Asgardian design. I was surprised by his choice.
But then I watched as he lifted his hand and, with a pulse of magic, changed its color into a rich, complimenting green. I laughed.
“So this is what the rest of my life looks like?” I teased. “You slowly turning every dress I own green?”
He flashed me a wicked smile. “I adore green. And I adore you. So combining the two is perfection. Did you ever notice that your eyes are nearly identical to my signature shade of green? That thought has haunted me since the beginning. I used to tell myself it meant you were mine.”
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply. “And I still cannot fathom that I was right.”
“It’s not just your eyes,” he continued, touching the fabric of the now-green dress. “Your pale skin and fiery hair are stunning against it. You looked breathtaking in Alfheim. This shade reminds me of that.”
It warmed me to hear him speak of Alfheim without hesitation or tension. We could talk about the past—Muriel included—without awkwardness or fear. The bond made that easier. Knowing we belonged together had calmed so many of my old doubts.
Loki helped me into the dress, then sat me down so he could do my hair. His fingers moved through the strands with practiced ease, and I melted under his touch, especially when they lingered on the sensitive skin of my neck. He knew what it did to me, and he enjoyed every second of the effect he had. When he was finished, I added a comb and earrings. The neckline of the dress was high and laced, so I skipped a necklace. I changed the gemstones to a deep green and turned to find Loki watching me from the bed, propped up on one elbow.
“I love this,” he said softly. And I knew he meant not just this moment—but all of it. Us.
“I love it too,” I replied. “I don’t think I could ever tire of this.”
I glanced at the clock and saw we still had a little time before we needed to head to the dining hall.
“Are there any rules I should know about officially being courted by a prince?” I asked, remembering that royalty tended to come with its own etiquette and complications.
Loki smiled and reached out, gently taking my hand and guiding me to sit beside him on the bed.
“Courting a member of the royal family normally entails that public displays of affection are allowed,” Loki began as we walked. “You may now wear my colors officially. Under typical circumstances, the time is meant for the two parties to get to know one another. Royal marriages are rarely based on love. Most are arranged to benefit the kingdom.”
He lifted my hand and kissed it gently, and I could feel the depth of his gratitude through our bond.
“That is why my father commented that this was not an arrangement he would have envisioned for me. I suspect he had other plans—ways to use me to benefit Asgard. But the bond between us... it left no room for anyone else. I am grateful—beyond measure—that he put my happiness before the greater good of the realm.”
His voice grew quieter.
“I do fear it will make things harder for Thor, though. He is now the only pawn left for political marriage.”
We both fell silent, the thought of Thor’s future weighing on us. I glanced up at the clock and saw the time.
“We should go,” I said softly. Loki nodded, took my hand, and we headed down the corridor.
Still lost in thought, I couldn’t help but hope Thor and Sif could make things work. I prayed Odin would be as merciful with them as he had been with us. I knew he loved his children. I only hoped he loved Thor enough to let him marry for love, too—not bind him to duty and sacrifice for the sake of Asgard’s politics.
Loki gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “There is more,” he said in a low voice, ensuring no one could overhear. “Since we do not need time to fall in love, we may enjoy the freedoms courtship brings. We no longer need to hide our affection. No one will question us coming from each other’s rooms. You do not need permission to enter mine, nor I yours. It is... expected, now, that we spend our nights together.”
He paused, then turned toward me, his expression suddenly earnest.
“Aurora,” he said, stopping in the corridor. “How would you feel about sleeping together every night?” A glimmer of mischief crossed his face. “And by that, I mean—how would you feel about moving your things into my chambers? Normally that would wait until after marriage, but... I see no reason to delay.”
I couldn’t help but smile. The idea of waking up beside him every morning, sharing our days, our quiet routines, our laughter—it felt perfect.
“I’d like that very much,” I replied, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. I glanced around, realizing several people in the hallway had turned to look.
I want to kiss you so badly right now, I said through the bond, a playful thrill running up my spine. But there are way too many eyes on us.
I saw Loki’s grin widen as he gently guided us toward a large column, out of direct sight. He scanned the hallway and, with a soft tingle of magic, he turned back to me.
“Now, Aurora,” he said smoothly, “what is stopping you? Seeing as I have just made us invisible.”
As soon as the words registered, I jumped into his arms and kissed him hard. He caught me easily, lifting me from the floor as I kissed him and laughed at the same time. My hands tangled in his hair, and the kiss deepened. The love I felt in that moment was blinding.
He slowly set me back down, and I combed my fingers through his hair to fix the mess I’d made of it. A moment later, the magic shimmered around us again, and we were visible once more.
We continued on in content silence, still glowing with the joy of our moment. When we reached the dining hall, we took our seats—and not long after, Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three entered. Their return brought with it a wave of cheerful noise, laughter, and embraces. I couldn’t help noticing Sif giving me a curious smile. She glanced between me and Loki, one eyebrow raised.
I giggled and gave a small nod. She laughed out loud, clearly delighted. I suspected Thor had already let something slip.
Then Odin and Frigga entered the room.
As they approached the table, they remained standing, and immediately, the entire dining hall quieted.
“My lords and ladies,” Odin began, his voice warm and commanding, “I would like to share some joyful news. This day, my son Prince Loki requested permission to enter into an official courtship with Princess Aurora.”
All eyes turned to us. The energy in the room shifted from quiet surprise to rising excitement.
“I have consulted with King William of Midgard and with Princess Aurora herself. It is with great pleasure that I announce both King William and I have given the young couple our blessing. We wish them happiness in their union—and hope their love brings our two realms even closer.”
As Odin took his seat, the hall erupted into applause. Loki reached for my hand and stood, pulling me to my feet beside him.
“Princess Aurora and I are honored by the blessings of both our fathers,” Loki said with a graceful bow of his head. “We hope our courtship brings not only happiness to ourselves but prosperity to both our nations. I am pleased to announce that my father has arranged a banquet tomorrow evening to celebrate. I would be honored if all of you would join us in celebrating our newfound love.”
He turned to me and placed a tender kiss on my hand, and I could practically feel half the noblewomen in the room swoon.
We sat, and the buzz of conversation exploded. Everyone was talking, toasting, celebrating. I wanted to tell Loki about the swooning but didn’t get the chance—Sif practically tackled me in congratulations.
Volstagg and Hogun were already crowding Loki, offering loud, hearty congratulations. Fandral lingered nearby, his expression more reserved. I could feel that he was happy for us—but unsure of how to approach me. Maybe he was remembering his past attempts to flirt, and now, faced with this version of Loki, he felt... outmatched.
I took pity on him and approached with a smile. His shoulders eased, and I gave him a friendly hug.
“My best wishes to you and Loki,” he said as he pulled back.
“Thank you,” I replied warmly.
That was the moment Volstagg and Hogun descended on me next, pulling me into two very enthusiastic bear hugs. My ribs might never recover.
It felt surreal—this joy, this lightness. I had known royal courtships were significant, but I hadn’t expected the sheer wave of support and happiness from so many.
Then Sif pulled me aside, dragging me away from the celebrating nobles.
“Okay, Aurora. Spill. What the hell happened?” she demanded, half-laughing. “I leave for a few weeks, and when I return, you’re practically engaged to Loki.”
Her tone was playful, but I could hear the I told you so behind it.
“I really thought he just wanted to be friends,” I admitted. “I had no idea he felt anything more. Turns out, he was just keeping me in the dark—afraid of ruining our friendship, just like I was.”
She raised a brow.
“Did you hear about the Loki imposter?” I asked.
Sif nodded. “Yes. We were briefed this afternoon. What does he have to do with all this?”
“At first, I really thought it was him,” I said quietly. “The imposter made a move and kissed me—let’s just say I was very surprised... but I didn’t exactly object. Not at first. A few moments later, I realized something was wrong. That he couldn’t be Loki. And then, well... things escalated. I’m guessing Thor already told his version.”
Sif nodded, following along.
“But you know Loki,” I continued. “He wouldn’t rest until he knew everything. He made me tell him. I tried to lie at first—tried not to tell him the imposter kissed me and I let him.”
Sif gave a knowing nod, as though she’d expected as much.
“I mean, I was lying to the god of lies.” I huffed a short laugh. “We fought, and in the end I just... told him everything. That I let the imposter kiss me because I thought it was him. I thought I’d ruined everything. But instead, Loki walked over and kissed me like there was no tomorrow—and confessed he’d been in love with me all along.”
I was grinning like an idiot. I knew it. I didn’t care.
Sif wore the same ridiculous smile but glanced sideways toward Loki. “I have to admit... when I first heard the news from Thor, I thought maybe he’d tricked you.”
I blinked, surprised, but before I could protest, Sif gently rested her hand on my arm.
“I don’t mean to insult him,” she said quickly. “It’s just—he’s clever. I thought he might’ve used everything that happened—the fear, your weakened state—to convince you. I worried he’d taken advantage.”
I wanted to defend him, to deny it outright—but instead, I focused on her emotions. There was sadness under her words. Doubt. And maybe a touch of envy.
“Seeing you both now, though...” Sif continued softly, “It’s obvious. You love him. Anyone with eyes can see it. And Loki? I’ve never seen him so open. He wears his feelings on his face every time he looks at you. It’s almost... unsettling.”
She gave a small laugh, then hesitated.
“I do have to ask, though. And I mean no offense, I really don’t. But are you sure? Are you certain this isn’t something... rushed? After everything that’s happened—with the imposter, with Muriel... Are you sure it’s not just comfort or need? I’d hate to see you fall in love with a version of Loki you’ve built in your head, and not the real man.”
It wasn’t the question that shocked me—it was her heart behind it. She wasn’t judging. She was hurting. Cautious. Maybe speaking more from her own experience than mine.
“Sif,” I said gently, “I promise you—I know it’s real. I wish I could explain why with words, but I just know. We’re connected on a level that’s hard to describe. There’s no illusion between us. He sees the real me. I see the real him. Good and bad.”
I saw her shoulders ease.
“Then I’m happy for you, truly.” She gave me a real smile this time.
“And I know Loki and I kind of stole the spotlight,” I said with a grin, “but if there’s anything I can do to help—or if you ever want to talk—I’ll be here.”
Her smile faltered, just slightly. “Thank you, Aurora. I’m just... working through some things. When I’m ready, I’ll come find you. You’re a true friend.”
She pulled me into a hug, and I returned it, grateful for the honesty.
I felt Loki approaching before I saw him. When we pulled apart, I turned and saw him standing behind us.
Sif immediately straightened, switching to her composed warrior posture, and congratulated him with a nod. To my surprise, Loki smiled and gave her a brief hug. Sif looked like she might faint, and even the surrounding warriors stared in surprise.
Loki, of course, reveled in the mischief.
He turned to me with a grin and took both my hands.
“Do you know the best part of this announcement?” he asked, mischief in his voice.
I shook my head, unsure.
And then his lips were on mine.
It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a Loki kiss. Passionate, addictive, toe-curling. I tried to keep it appropriate—we’re in the dining hall, for gods’ sake!—but he was making it difficult. When he finally pulled back, I was blushing like a schoolgirl, and he looked far too pleased with himself.
“The best part,” he said smugly, “is that I can do that in public now.”
He led me back to our seats while I tried—and failed—not to turn bright red. He placed his hand over mine, and for a long while, we just... basked. I was surrounded by friends, by family, by love. My heart was full.
We ate and talked, laughter ringing out all around us. After dinner, we stayed behind with Sif and the Warriors Three to catch up. Volstagg and Thor were deep in conversation, and I noticed Loki grow still beside me, his attention shifting to them.
“So, you found nothing wrong at the border?” Thor asked. “Not even a clue about what might’ve caused the unrest?”
Volstagg shook his head. “No. It felt like a witch hunt. People panicked over every odd behavior—claimed their neighbors were possessed if they so much as acted differently. We found no signs of an actual breach.”
Loki frowned. “So, nothing at all? No trace of who or what caused the first disturbance?”
Volstagg exhaled. “There was one thing. Villagers claimed a woman arrived—no one knew her, but a week after she came, things started unraveling. Several men began acting strangely. Then, without warning, she left... and a group of men followed her. Willingly.”
“Some were married,” Hogun added. “Some were not. But they all abandoned their lives and went with her. That’s when the real panic started. People tried to stop them from leaving—it turned into a fight.”
Loki’s brows knit together. “That is unusual.”
Hogun nodded. “Even stranger—the villagers couldn’t agree on what she looked like. Some claimed she was young and beautiful. Others swore she was old and hideous. No matching descriptions. No trail to follow. We searched surrounding villages, but... nothing. No sign of her. Or the men who followed her.”
Loki fell quiet beside me. I could feel the tension building in him again.
“That is not mere panic,” he murmured.
“No,” I agreed softly. “That sounds like something else entirely.”
And we both knew—it wasn’t over yet.
Loki nodded, but I could tell he was not pleased with the information. It was getting late, and after bidding the others good night, we made our way back to our chambers. Without thinking, I started walking toward my own room—only to feel Loki’s arm wrap gently around my waist.
“That’s the wrong way,” he whispered into my ear, his chuckle warm against my skin.
I remembered our earlier conversation and couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. He redirected us toward his room and, with exaggerated ceremony, opened the door with a deep, theatrical bow.
I stepped inside, taking a moment to really look around for the first time.
It was vast—so much more spacious than mine. Books lined nearly every wall, filling tall shelves and freestanding bookcases, giving the room the feel of a grand, luxurious study crossed with a sorcerer’s lair. Despite the abundance of tomes, the space wasn’t crowded. The fireplace cast a cozy glow over richly upholstered furniture, and little trinkets adorned the tables and shelves, softening the opulence with a sense of warmth and lived-in charm.
I wandered further inside, drawn to a delicate-looking object perched on one of the shelves. It was a small metal bird, finely crafted—its frame an intricate weave of gold-toned gears and filigree. I picked it up carefully, marveling at the craftsmanship.
“Your room feels like you’ve been collecting all these things for a very long time,” I said, still inspecting the little bird.
I felt him approach, his presence at my back as his arms wrapped around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder.
“That is because I have,” he said softly. “It’s the result of hundreds of years of travel and collecting. That little bird? I made it myself, long ago. I was very into mechanics at the time—obsessed with the idea of blending enchantment with craftsmanship.”
He tapped a button on the bird’s back, and it flew from my hands. I gasped, watching in awe as the tiny creature soared gracefully around the room, its gears ticking softly. It sang a sweet melody before fluttering back into my palms.
“Loki... it’s beautiful,” I breathed, cradling it as though it might take flight again. I carefully placed it back on the shelf.
He turned me in his arms, eyes locked on mine. “Then it’s yours, little one,” he said, and kissed me.
“Really?” I asked as the kiss broke, my eyes wide.
He grinned. “Yes, really. Although... it might sound silly, since everything I own is yours. I meant it when I said I’m yours, in every way. There will be no inequality between us—not even in possessions. But the bird... that’s a gift.”
I threw my arms around him. “You are the kindest person in the world,” I whispered in his ear. I felt the low rumble of his chuckle in his chest.
“I’m happy you think so,” he murmured. “Come—let me show you the rest of our domain.”
He took my hand and led me down a corridor branching off from his reception room. On the left side were several doors. On the right, just one.
He began with the rooms on the left. The first was a secondary library, filled with even more books. “These are ones I do not read often anymore,” he said, though I got the sense he was reluctant to part with even a single one.
The second was an armory, beautifully curated with weapons and various styles of armor. The third was larger and clearly used for storage—well-organized but clearly where he kept items not currently on display.
Finally, he turned toward the lone door on the right. “You know this one,” he said with a smile, leading me into his bedroom.
It had changed since I’d last been there. A new wardrobe had appeared on the far wall, matching Loki’s in both size and style. A vanity and chair now stood elegantly by one of the windows.
“If you need help changing anything, just let me know,” Loki said gently. “I want you to feel at home here.”
I smiled. “I do. I can’t think of anything I’d want to change.”
A thought struck me. “Loki, will I still have Yara? I don’t know the rules about female attendants in a man’s room.”
He took my hand and sat me down on the bed.
“Yara will still be your handmaiden,” he assured me. “The only difference is that she—or any other servant—will now need permission to enter our bedroom or bathing chamber. That would have changed even if you had stayed in your own room. With the possibility of me visiting, privacy must be respected.”
He smiled, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “I normally don’t use a valet. I dislike having others organize my things. As long as Yara focuses on your needs, I’m fine. She’ll continue managing your old rooms too. They’re still yours, and if you ever need space or privacy, they’re always there.”
He kissed my fingers. “I will speak to her myself tomorrow. I will explain my quirks and assure her she remains in your service. Though...” he smirked, “I might steal a few of her duties.”
He gently pushed me back onto the bed, placing soft kisses along my neck. “Like undressing you. Bathing you. Doing your hair,” he murmured, each phrase followed by another kiss.
I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him up for a kiss. When we parted, I tucked a loose lock behind his ear.
“I know you can feel it,” I whispered, “but I want to say it out loud. You make me so happy, Loki. Thank you.”
His grin softened, and he pulled me gently upright. “Thank you,” he said, almost shy. “Yes, I feel it—but it is still lovely to hear.”
Before I could respond, mischief returned to his eyes. He took my hand and led me toward a side door I hadn’t noticed before.
He opened it—and I stopped in my tracks.
It was the most luxurious bathing room I had ever seen.
A double vanity stood to one side, with a wide, sleek shower beside it. The massive bathtub in the center could easily fit six people. But what truly took my breath away was the far wall—beyond it lay a private indoor pool, its surface shimmering in the soft light like liquid glass.
It wasn’t quite large enough for serious lap swimming, but it was certainly spacious enough to glide through with long, lazy strokes. The pool curved in elegant, organic lines rather than sharp corners, giving it a natural, tranquil feel. Smooth stone lined the edges, and a gentle waterfall spilled over a cluster of sculpted rocks on one side, filling the air with a soothing sound of flowing water. The water itself glowed with a deep, jewel-toned green—clear and inviting, like an enchanted forest spring tucked deep underground.
It looked less like something built and more like something discovered.
I turned to Loki, utterly speechless.
He just grinned.
“Welcome home,” he said.
He closed the distance between us and lifted me into his arms. He walked us both into the pool, the water rising warm around us. As I wrapped my legs around his waist, he carried me effortlessly toward a ledge near the side.
""The heating of the pool is magical," he explained, his voice smooth beside my ear—then echoing gently through our bond. “Concentrate on the water. Then speak—or think—the words: Varmathr eldr veita. While doing so, visualize the heat rising to your preferred level. The spell will respond to intention, but only gradually—it will never scald or shock.”
I smiled, focusing on the water surrounding us. It was already warm, but not quite to my liking. I took a breath and thought the words silently, Varmathr eldr veita, letting the sound of them settle in my mind like something ancient and powerful. I imagined the water warming—slowly, steadily—until it reached that delicious just-before-too-hot temperature I loved so much.
A pulse of warmth stirred around us, rippling gently through the water. Loki let out a low hum of amusement.
"I swear, Aurora, if you were a crustacean you would be the only one begging to be boiled."
I shot him a mock-glare, though I felt the soft tingle of magic brush the air around us—faint but unmistakable.
"You don’t like it this warm?" I asked, even though I could feel through our bond that he was perfectly comfortable.
He gave me that teasing smile—. "I do not mind. Especially with you in the water. And if it becomes too much, I can simply adjust my internal temperature with magic as I just did."
"Show-off," I muttered, though I leaned into him anyway.
"Always," he said smoothly, pulling me in closer.
He carried us to a wide ledge built into the side of the pool and settled there, his back against the warm stone. I melted into his arms.
"I think I died and went to heaven," I sighed.
"Well, you do have a god in your pool," he said solemnly, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
"And what kind of god would that be?" I asked, trailing my fingers along his chest.
He grinned, wicked and slow. Without warning, he pushed away from the ledge and into the deeper water. I clung to him, molding myself tighter against his body.
"It seems I must refresh your memory," he said, his voice low and playful. "You clearly require a proper demonstration of what mischief truly means."
He turned me so my back was to his chest, one arm circling my waist to keep me afloat. His lips brushed my neck, slow and purposeful, while his other hand traced across my ribs, then lower. I lifted my arms to clasp behind his neck, arching into his touch.
A familiar tingle of magic stirred the air, and a second Loki shimmered into view in front of me, his grin unmistakable. Without a word, the clone slipped beneath the surface.
"He does not need to breathe," Loki whispered through the bond.
I gasped as hands—his hands—lifted my legs gently and placed them over shoulders. Then I felt the soft heat of his mouth on me. I cried out, the sound echoing softly off the stone walls.
Still supported by the clone, I felt the real Loki release his hold on my waist, now free to explore. He cupped my breasts from behind, teasing my nipples with slow, skilled fingers. I arched into his touch, head tipping back against his shoulder, and he captured my lips in a deep, consuming kiss.
I was floating—literally and figuratively—suspended between the two of him, drowning in sensation.
Then I felt him lift me from the clone’s shoulders, my back pressed flush to his chest. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, effortlessly holding me in the water.
I gasped as his cock ground against my ass—hard and eager—and a sharp wave of need surged through me. I wanted him inside me. Desperately.
The clone Loki, still submerged beneath us, gently shifted my legs wider. With firm hands, he tilted my hips just enough to make space. I felt the head of Loki’s cock slip between my thighs, and a warm tingle of magic flowed from him. A slick sensation spread between my legs, making it impossible to hold back the moan that escaped my lips.
Then he slid into me—slow, deep, and deliberate.
I turned my head, demanding a kiss, and moaned into his mouth as our lips met. I lifted both arms up and back, fingers searching for purchase behind his neck until they tangled in his hair. I tugged—harder than I’d originally intended—and felt his body shudder behind me as he began to move inside me. The surge of desire rolling off him was unmistakable. Apparently, he had a thing for having his hair pulled.
Beneath the water, the clone’s hands closed around my thighs, spreading me even wider. It gave Loki more room to move—room to set a harder, more unforgiving pace. Each thrust hit deeper, rougher, and the magic he'd summoned between my legs made sure the water didn’t wash away the slick friction of his cock sliding inside me.
Then the clone returned his attention to my clit. His tongue moved in perfect rhythm with every thrust, teasing and circling, drawing moan after moan from my lips. The sensation was overwhelming—a delicious, spiraling tension that built fast and fierce with every pulse and movement between us.
“Fuck,” I gasped, clinging to him.
One hand dropped from his neck, finding the clone’s hair, and I tangled my fingers into it. Loki’s grip on my waist tightened as he pulled me down onto him, again and again, each movement guided with maddening control.
“Fuck,” he echoed, rough and low. “The sight of you bouncing on my cock, the feel of my tongue on you... It is maddening.”
His voice caught as his gaze dropped. “And your breasts—gods, the way they move with every thrust... I could lose my mind watching you come apart like this.”
He thrust hard, forcing a ragged cry from my throat, but then he pulled back—stopping just before that final tipping point. I whimpered at the loss, my body trembling with denial.
“Not yet,” he growled. “You do not get to come until I say.”
The clone pulled away from my clit at the same moment, leaving me breathless, aching. I could feel both of them—Loki’s thick cock pulsing inside me, the echo of the clone’s mouth still burning against my skin. The need was unbearable, but I held on, desperate and pliant beneath their touch.
Then Loki shifted us, using nothing more than his strength and fluid movement. He pulled me with him, lifting me up with firm, sure arms, guiding me toward the ledge at the edge of the pool. I clung to him, legs still wrapped around his waist, as he sat with me straddling his lap, water lapping around our hips.
Behind me, the clone returned, his hands warm and confident as they closed around my hips. I looked back, nerves and want mixing in my chest, but before I could speak, Loki's voice brushed through the bond—low and dark.
“I will take care of you, little one,” he murmured aloud, his mouth grazing my ear. “I have matched us—our shape, our girth—so that together, we stretch you perfectly. Nothing more than you can handle. You were made for this.”
The dirty promise in his voice sent a shiver down my spine.
I moaned, clinging to him as I felt the clone’s cock press alongside his. He was right—together, they filled me completely, perfectly.
“Feel that?” the clone whispered against my neck, voice rough. “So full... so tight. You take us so well.”
They began to move—timed thrusts that alternated and then merged, creating a rhythm that left me gasping. I had never felt anything like it.
“Tell us how good we make you feel,” Loki growled, his voice breathless.
“I—I can’t,” I moaned. “It’s too much—”
“You will take it,” he said, a reverent edge to his tone. “All of it. All of us.”
The clone cupped my breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers. “She’s shaking,” he rasped. “You feel that? She’s close.”
“Not yet,” Loki murmured.
Again, they slowed. I whimpered at the denial, hips twitching with need.
Then, with strong arms, Loki shifted us again. He turned me around and guided me through the water until the clone was sitting on the edge of the pool. I understood immediately. Loki kissed my shoulder, then my neck.
“Open your mouth for him.” he said, voice thick with want.
I obeyed, slowly trailing my hands over the clone’s thighs, sending shivers up his spine. Resting my hands on him, I moved closer, his cock standing hard and ready, slick with arousal. I leaned in and took him into my mouth, slow and deep. The clone groaned and let his head tip back.
“Just like that,” he praised, voice hoarse. “So good... your mouth feels divine.”
He tangled his fingers gently in my hair, guiding the pace he wanted, hips moving with slow, measured control. I moaned around him, the sound vibrating against his length, and his grip tightened in response.
Behind me, Loki moved into position, and I felt his hands on my hips before he pushed back inside me with one smooth thrust.
“Fuck, yes,” he hissed. “You’re dripping. So tight, so wet... Gods, I’ll never get enough of this.”
“Just like that,” he praised, voice hoarse. “So good... your mouth feels divine.”
He tangled his fingers gently in my hair, guiding the pace he wanted, hips moving with slow, measured control. I moaned around him, the sound vibrating against his length, and his grip tightened in response.
Behind me, Loki moved into position, and I felt his hands on my hips before he pushed back inside me with one smooth thrust.
“Fuck, yes,” he hissed. “You’re dripping. So tight, so wet... Gods, I will never get enough of this.”
The rhythm between them found me again—Loki pounding into me from behind while the clone moved in my mouth, guiding my head with firm, hands.
“You are ours,” the clone growled, breath ragged. “So beautiful like this. So fucking perfect.”
“Come for us,” Loki demanded. “Let us feel you fall apart.”
This time, they did not stop.
Loki’s hand slipped between my thighs, stroking my clit in time with his thrusts. I could feel the orgasm building, coiling impossibly tight.
“Come now,” the clone groaned. “I want to feel you break.”
I shattered. My body convulsed between them as I came, crying out around the clone’s cock, tightening around Loki’s with blinding force. Both of them groaned—Loki’s thrusts turned frantic, the clone’s grip trembling.
They followed me over the edge, spilling into me with deep, drawn-out groans that echoed through the chamber.
I collapsed, boneless and sated, as strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me close.
And in that moment—between the arms of the man I loved and the echo of his magic—I knew I would never feel more complete.
He held me gently as we floated, still trembling. Clone Loki slid back into the water and towards us, he gave me a deep kiss and then he vanished.
It was strange, how natural it felt. Even stranger, how much I missed him the moment he vanished.
As we floated together, tangled in warmth and afterglow, Loki brushed a kiss along my temple. His voice was low, velvet-soft and thoroughly amused.
As we floated in the soft silence of the pool, still tangled in warmth and afterglow, Loki dipped his head to brush a kiss just beneath my ear.
“So, tell me, little one…” His voice was a husky purr, full of smug amusement. “Was that entirely outside your definition of proper?”
I let out a mortified groan and buried my face in his shoulder. “Gods, yes,” I mumbled. “It was way beyond anything I expected. But… I kind of loved it.”
He laughed, that rich, wicked sound vibrating against my skin. “Kind of?” he echoed, mock offended.
I felt the heat rise in my cheeks—and so did he. I should’ve known better than to think I could hide anything now.
“Oh, you are blushing,” he said, grinning like the devil himself. “After all that? Truly, what am I going to do with you?”
I swatted weakly at his chest. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, you let two of me ruin you in a pool,” he said, all innocent charm. “I feel quite vindicated.”
“Loki—”
“What? I merely fulfilled my sacred duties as the God of Mischief. And I must say… watching you come undone like that? That was divine mischief, indeed.”
I bit my lip to stop the laugh, but he caught it through the bond anyway and looked far too pleased with himself.
Then his voice softened, fingers trailing slowly down my back with gentle reverence.
“I only dared take it that far because I could feel you,” he murmured. “Every flicker of pleasure, every spark or hesitation—if there had been even a trace of discomfort, of fear. I would have stopped. You know that, do you not?”
I nodded wordlessly, heart full.
“Our bond… it shows me everything. Not just what excites you, but what soothes you, what unsettles you. It lets me explore with you—not for the sake of mischief, but because I know I will never take a step too far.” He kissed my shoulder softly. “And if I ever did, you would not even need to say the word. I would feel it, instantly.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Still, I want you to know… if there had been even a flicker of discomfort, I would have stopped. I might enjoy taking control, but I will never take liberties with your trust. Not now. Not ever.”
My heart swelled. “You didn’t. I never once felt unsafe. I only felt wanted. Loved. It made me want everything.”
His grin returned, slow and sinfully handsome. “Careful, little one. Tell the God of Mischief you want everything, and he just might give it to you. Twice.”
I laughed, breathless, and he kissed me deeply, thoroughly, until the only thing I could feel was the love we shared.
“I’ll remember that,” I whispered against his lips. “And I might hold you to it.”
“You better,” he growled, and then he nipped lightly at my lower lip. “But for now...”
Loki guided me to the ledge again and gently washed us both.. When we stepped out of the water, he wrapped me in one of the plush towels. I the other one and insisted on drying him myself, placing kisses along his skin as I worked. He bent so I could dry his hair, his contentment clear through our bond.
"I love you," I murmured against his chest. "Being with you... it just feels right. Before, I felt so safe with you, even as just a friend. But now? Knowing you love me too? I can’t describe how good it feels."
He pulled me close, pressing a kiss into my hair.
"I understand, little one. And I feel the same."
We stood there for a while, just holding each other. Eventually, we dressed in our sleeping clothes and returned to the bedroom.
A thought struck me, sharp and cold. Odin’s words. The bond. What it meant.
I must have tensed, because Loki noticed instantly.
"What troubles you?"
I hesitated, then sighed. "I remembered what your father said. That if one of us dies... the other will never be able to love again. And I’ll live for a very long time."
"So now you regret our love? Now that you must endure it for centuries?" he said, teasing—but I felt the flicker of uncertainty beneath.
I slapped his arm. "No, you idiot. I just... the idea of losing you. Of having to live all those years without you. It terrifies me."
He pulled me closer, arms firm around me.
"You need not worry about that, my love. I am very hard to break and notoriously difficult to kill. And now that I have you, I am more determined than ever to live a long and very happy life."
I looked up at him, heart aching with love and fear.
"I’ll probably still worry," I whispered.
He kissed my forehead. "Then I shall just have to keep proving you wrong. Every day. For the rest of our lives."
He leaned down and kissed the tip of my nose. “I know. And I will always worry about you. Even when I know you are safe. Not just because you are more fragile than I would like. Even if you were full Æsir, I would still do everything in my power to protect you. As I believe you have noticed… I am a tad protective over the people I love.”
I could feel that darker side of him stir beneath the surface. It didn’t scare me—it never had. I had accepted it as part of him a long time ago. But it reminded me of just how deep and complex he truly was. I knew, without a doubt, that he would do anything—everything—to keep me safe. With most people, that was just a turn of phrase. With Loki, it was a quiet, terrible truth. He would burn kingdoms if it meant shielding me from harm. And I feared what it might cost him if he were ever forced to make that kind of choice. His heart felt so deeply… I wasn’t sure he could survive the weight of that kind of guilt.
I smiled up at him. “How about we just try to avoid trouble altogether? That way we don’t have to keep rescuing each other.”
Loki snorted and laughed, his chest shaking against mine. “My love, I fear your time in Asgard has taught you nothing. You attract trouble like the moon pulls the tide. Then again…” He grinned wickedly. “I have never cared much for the easy things. They bore me.”
He kissed my forehead, then gently pulled the covers up around us.
“But now, let us get some sleep. Between my mother’s preparations and the banquet, she will keep us occupied all day tomorrow.”
I frowned up at him, feigning outrage. “You might’ve thought of that before double-teaming me in the bathroom. I’m exhausted!”
Loki’s smirk faltered as his gaze searched mine. “I hope… you did not mind that?”
I leaned up and kissed him softly. “Loki, you’re my world. The more of you in that world—especially when you’re doing mischievous things to my body—the better.”
His smile returned, and I felt his flicker of worry ease through our bond. He always acted so confident, so composed. But now that I could feel everything he felt, I saw the subtle undercurrent of self-doubt that crept in when he let his guard down. It amazed me, truly, that someone who felt this deeply had managed to survive for so long without shattering.
I wondered how many years it had taken him to forge that mask of cold indifference—how many times he’d hidden pain behind a sharp tongue or a wry smile. Odin had tried to harden him, mold him into something he never was meant to be. Thank the gods he had Frigga. She had nurtured what was soft in him, what was kind. I loved her all the more for it.
If Odin had had his way, Loki might have been just as cold on the inside as people assumed him to be.
I nestled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. Everything about this—about him—felt right. I didn’t even question it anymore.
Wrapped in his arms, I slipped easily into sleep.