omg.... PLEASE WRITE A SEQUEL TO ONE NIGHT THAT SHIT SLAPPED ! ur writing is fucking AMAZING
aah thank you so much xx and I’ve had another request to write a Nat x Reader smut involving an elevator lol so I’ll probs write a sequel involving that. If you like, you can give me your @ and I’ll tag you in it when I eventually post it xx
myself as a dream goddess (benevolent but vaguely surreal, moderately prophetic~), to join @bebemoon’s moon mermaid and @bluebellgrove‘s night/astronomical goddess…
Solace The final battle against Thanos left you broken and numb. You find comfort in Steve’s arms.
Loki Odinson
Serendipity Pt.1 Pt. 2 You are an immortal who has spent your life travelling, forced to find your home in different places around the world. One day, you meet a certain God of Mischief. What follows is a friendship that spans centuries.
Natasha Romanova
One Night (smut) After the snap, your boyfriend, Steve, can’t live with his own failure. Natasha comforts you the best way she knows how.
After the snap, your boyfriend, Steve, can’t live with his own failure. Natasha comforts you the best way she knows how.
Warnings: SMUT F/F fingering, oral
Word Count: 1.7k
Steve was broken. A ghost of his former self.
You would find him all the time now, staring off into the distance, his sea-blue eyes glazed over. In those moments, you’d grab his hands in yours, whisper in his ear.
It’s not your fault. He was too powerful, too strong. There was nothing we could do.
But it didn’t matter how gentle your voice was, how soft the kisses you pressed against his cheek were, how tight you wrapped him in your arms. He never listened.
Grief and guilt are savage beasts. They will twist your mind with their claws and crush your heart in their fists. But, you can outrun them, if you want to. The rest of the team did, they managed to find a way to still live, to find something worth fighting for, even with the beasts at their heels.
Steve didn’t. He let the beasts catch him, and you weren't strong enough to fight them off for him.
The Steve you knew and loved, the golden-haired, brave, Captain America, was gone. Dead.
And you didn't know what to do.
———————————————
You are dreaming.
You and him. Him and you.
Down by the lake, where you used to go all the time.
The water is glistening, the surface so clear you could peer over the edge and feel like you’re falling into space; a pool full of stars. The air is calm, quiet.
Steve’s fingers are entwined with yours. You lean in, brush his ear with your lips, whisper something. He laughs, long and loud and happy. Your cheeks hurt from grinning.
You let your eyes linger on his face, etch the details of his features into your brain. His full lashes, his rosy cheeks, his pink lips. The way he looks at you as if you are his entire world. The way he used to look at you all the time.
Suddenly, he’s kissing you, pinning you to the ground. You feel the grass tickle your arms, the heat radiating from his skin. You feel his lips, on your mouth and your jaw and your neck.
God, you missed this. You missed him.
You want more, you need more, you fall into his touch, further and further and…
“Y/N.” Someone shakes your arm. “Wake up.”
You open your eyes. Natasha is sitting on your bed, watching you. Her hair is down, she’s wearing a black tank top, sweatpants that sit just on her hips.
“Nat,” you whisper, sitting up, “what are you doing here?”
“I just-” she begins, but she stops, looks to the ground shyly.
You’d never seen the super spy so nervous. “It’s okay… you can tell me.” You encourage.
“I just wanted to check up on you.” The red-head confesses, her eyes meeting yours.
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why?”
“I know how hard everything has been, with Steve.” Nat mutters. “I see you, Y/N. I see you bring him meals that he doesn’t eat, I see you knock on the door and get no answer. I can’t imagine how hard it is for you.”
Tears burn at your eyes, threaten to spill over. “Thank you, Nat,” you mutter, “but I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” She wraps her fingers around your arm, gently. “You’re not fine. I mean… you don’t even sleep in the same room as him anymore.”
The truth hits you like a knife to the chest. “He just… needs time.” You stutter.
“No.” Natasha says, lifting your chin with her fingers. “Don’t make excuses for him. Don’t lie. You don't have to, not with me.”
Her hand is warm underneath your chin. It reminds you of him, his skin and his hot touch. It’s enough to make you fall over the edge. You let yourself cry, big, heavy sobs that rob your lungs of breath. Nat holds you, wraps your body in her arms, lets you dampen her shirt with your tears.
“I just feel so… alone.” You choke into her shoulder.
“I know.” She comforts, caressing your hair. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
She trails your fingers gently through your locks, massages your scalp. You close your eyes.
“Maybe,” she whispers, her voice feather-soft, “I can help you not feel so alone.”
You tilt your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Her fingers fall to your thigh, drift up and down. “I mean,” she purrs, “we can have a little fun…if you want?”
Your breath catches in your throat. A thousand thoughts race through your mind at once.
You're still with Steve. It’s wrong, so wrong. She’s your friend. He still loves you, he does. You can’t do this to him, you can’t betray him…
“Come on,” Nat’s breath tickles your ear, “I can make you feel good, Y/N. I know that’s what you want.”
Your mind floods with wanting. You haven't been touched in so long. Too long.
You love Steve, with every fibre of your body. You do. But the weight of this love has been sitting on your shoulders for so long. It was crushing you. You were exhausted. Was it wrong to want a break from that? Even for just one night?
You took a deep breath.
“S-Steve can’t know.” You stutter out. “Nobody can.”
“They won’t.” Nat assures, her fingers caressing your cheek. “This stays our little secret.”
You look at your best friend, into her midnight blue eyes. Realisation washes over you. You want her, her touch and her lips, all over your body. You want her everywhere.
You nod your permission.
That’s all she needs.
She brushes your hair behind your ear, exposing your neck. You moan in pleasure as her lips kiss the soft flesh there.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” She teases, leading your head down to the pillow. “Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamt about you, my pretty best friend, naked underneath me?”
Your stomach turns with arousal at her words.
Her fingers grab at the bottom of your shirt, lift it over your head. You’re not wearing a bra. “I’m going to treat you good, baby. Better than Steve ever could.” She purrs.
Your nipples are hard, exposed to the cold air. She puts one into her mouth, swirls it with her tongue, kneads your other breast in her hand. You moan in ecstasy.
She grins triumphantly. “You like when I play with your pretty tits, don’t you?”
“Yes… holy fuck.” You whimper, your cheeks blushing at how desperate you already were.
Nat chuckles and returns to suck at your neck. Slowly, her hands drift down to your thighs. She grabs the waistband of your shorts, pulls them down your legs. You are in nothing but your underwear.
“Look at you,” the woman murmurs, trailing kisses up your legs, “laid out here for me… so perfect.”
She stops before her mouth reaches your heat. A solitary finger traces your slit through the piece of cloth, eliciting a moan from you.
Ever so slowly, she pulls your panties down your legs, throws them in the corner of the room.
She spreads your legs wide. You’re glistening with arousal.
“Holy shit,” she breathes, “you’re so wet for me, baby.”
She slides one finger into you first, then two, making you gasp. She curls her digits delicately, searching for your special spot. A moan leaves your lips when she finds it.
“Natasha-” you breathe out.
She doesn’t answer. She is on a mission, her fingers deep within your pussy, repeatedly curling up and down. A knot begins to build in your stomach.
Already? You think in disbelief.
“Fuck Nat, I’m going to come.” You whine, your eyes closing.
“Come for me, Y/N. It’s okay.” The red-head purrs, her fingers continuing their assault.
A wave of intense pleasure washes over you. Warmth radiates throughout your body. Your thighs shake around Nat’s fingers.
Delicately, the spy removes her digits from your pussy. They are soaked with arousal.
“Be a good girl,” she demands, climbing towards your face, “open up.”
You wrap your mouth around her fingers, lick them clean. Your cum tastes sweet. Saccharine.
Then, Natasha’s plump lips are on yours, her tongue in your mouth. Tasting you.
Your clit throbs. You begin to close your legs.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Nat says, wedging a hand in-between your smooth thighs. “We’re not done.”
Before you can blink, your legs are strung over her shoulders. She breathes on your already sensitive clit. Goosebumps rise all over your flesh.
Her tongue licks along your slit before her lips attach to your clit. She flicks the sensitive bud in her mouth, sending vibrations straight up to your core.
You bury your fingers in her hair as your lips part open in pleasure.
Her tongue is magic, your whole body twists and turns to her rhythm. As you lose yourself in bliss, you forget all the immense tension you have been holding for the last year, the grief and the guilt, the unbearable sadness that has clouded your mind…
Nat’s mouth is everywhere you want it. Desperately, you twirl your nipples in between your fingers, knead your breasts. Your toes begin to curl.
She holds your hips down as she licks another orgasm out of you.
You erupt in ecstasy. Intense warmth and pure, perfect pleasure are all you feel. You are free, flying amongst the stars. You are awash in sensation, vibrating from your core to the tips of your toes and the top of your head.
Natasha drinks from your heat, lapping at your arousal, her fingers still clenched around your thighs.
You lie back on the bed, breathing heavily, sweat beading your flesh.
“That was amazing.” You choke out, breathless.
Nat appears at your side, wraps an arm around your shoulder.
“Did you expect anything less?” She teases. You smile up at the ceiling.
Moonlight sneaks in from between the curtains, illuminating your best-friend’s irises.
“Thank you.” You whisper into the silence. “I needed that.”
It takes a minute before your reply arrives. “It was the least I could do, Y/N.”
That night, you both fall asleep in each other's arms.
Tomorrow, you will struggle with guilt and the consequences of what you had just done.
But right now, while the sun was still down and your best friend breathed softly beside you, you could pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.
You are an immortal who has spent your life travelling, forced to find your home in different places around the world. One day, you meet a certain God of Mischief. What follows is a friendship that spans centuries.
Warnings: just fluff
Word Count: 3 k
A/N: This chapter is just short and sweet, don’t kill me 😩 things will start to heat up in part 3, promise x
Part 1
London. 1603.
“Get out of my way, I was here first!”
A hunchbacked woman glared at you with black, beady eyes.
You mumbled an apology and kept your head down.
Inwardly, however, you were seething. Bloody witch.
You had been waiting in line for hours to get into this theatre, and yet an ignorant peasant had the nerve to declare she was there before you.
It was events like this that reminded you how much you despised London. With it’s dirty and disease-ridden streets, it was definitely one of the worst places you had ever called home. Unfortunately, it was also one of the only places you had left to go.
“Ticket!” A man barked at you, pulling you from your thoughts.
Finally, you were at the front of the line.
Digging into your skirt’s deep pockets, you produced a solitary ticket, which the man promptly snatched from your hand.
He inspected the slip of paper closely before glancing toward you.
“Rather unusual for a woman to come to one of these things by herself.” He noted, his voice slick with suspicion.
“Have you never before come across a woman who enjoys the theatre?” You snorted.
The man eyed you with disdain. “Your seat is on the left.” He grumbled, handing the ticket back to you.
Satisfied, you gave him a slight smile before stepping inside.
The Globe Theatre was one of the most popular spots in London, and tonight proved to be no exception. The centrepiece of the room, the polished and intricately carved stage, was surrounded by peasants, all clamouring for the best standing room. Behind them, rows of seats stretched for as far as the eye could see. Those able to afford tickets sat there now, talking excitedly with friends and family. The air was abuzz with light chatter and laughter.
You had been saving up for weeks to afford a ticket. As you looked around at the beautiful theatre, you couldn't stop your lips from stretching into a wide grin.
Just as you took your seat, the curtain drew open.
As the play went on, you were lulled into serenity by the actor’s calm voices. During one particular soliloquy, the late afternoon sun fell gently on your face, and you found yourself becoming nostalgic about the warm evenings you had spent in Florence.
To daydream about such things was odd, as you generally regarded your time in Italy as a complete disaster. One that you were trying to erase from your memory completely. But here, in grey and dirty London, you couldn't help but reminisce about the days you had spent under the orange sun, walking amongst olive fields and rose gardens.
And, of course, there was something- rather, somebody- in particular that you couldn't stop thinking about.
Loki had been a particularly stubborn memory. You hadn't seen him since that day he had rescued you from your wedding and yet, you often caught yourself dreaming about his piercing green eyes and his raven black hair. Admittedly, deep down, some small part of you did wish that you could see him again.
But such thoughts were fruitless, you knew. He had most likely forgotten about you. You were sure he was surrounded by far more interesting people on that Asgard he always spoke of.
Not that it matters, anyway, you remind yourself. You had been alone for a long while now. That was just how it was, and most likely how it always would be.
You turned your attention back to the stage.
“…he that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man; and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him.”
“Gods, she’s being awfully dramatic, is she not?” The man to your left mumbled, his head bent in your direction.
You hummed in response. But, just as the actor launched into another monologue, you were hit with a sudden realisation.
That voice…
It couldn't be. You had just been thinking about him.
You turned towards the man, your mouth dropping open in shock. Sure enough, his eyes were sparkling green in the sunlight.
“Loki!” You gasped, much louder than you had intended to.
Several people hissed at you to be quiet.
“Miss me?” He asked, a smirk playing at his lips.
“What are you doing here?” You whispered. “How did you even find me?”
“Are you really so shocked?” The god asked with a grin.
You supposed you weren't.
“Now, are you coming with me or not?” He asked, reaching out a hand.
“Coming with you?” Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Loki, what do you mean-”
But before you could finish, Loki grabbed your hand in his and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Hold on tight.” He whispered into your ear.
And with a snap of his fingers, you both disappeared from the theatre, as if you had never been there at all.
**
“Loki, where in the world are we?” You asked, gently removing your hands from his body. Your mind was spinning.
“Look around you.” The young god declared, thrusting his arms outwards. “Where do you think we are?”
As your vision slowly cleared, you took in your surroundings. With a gasp, you realised that you were surrounded by rows and rows of food. Shelves, lined with wheels of cheese and piles of fruit, towered above you. Dried meat and sausages, bulbs of garlic and strings of herbs dropped from the ceiling. Barrels of wine and bottles of liquor covered the far wall.
“Unless we’re in your personal pantry, I’m guessing we are not supposed to be in here.” You whispered.
“Oh, relax,” he reassured, placing a hand on your back, “we’re perfectly safe in here, I promise.”
“Well, why are we here, anyway? I haven't seen you in 125 years, and then you just show up, kidnap me and take me here?”
“Ah,” Loki grinned, “keeping track of the years, are we?”
Your cheeks blushed furiously. “No, I was just… guessing.”
The god began to inspect the food-laden shelves. “Want one?” He asked, turning to you with a bunch of grapes in his hand.
“No,” you growled, “what I want is an explanation to why I am here.”
“Fine.” He sighed. “I got bored again. And hungry. Normally, I would just raid the palace kitchens. But today, I thought I should go on an adventure. And check up on you. See if you were still as pretty as I remember…”
You rolled your eyes.
“Oh, stop being so grumpy.” He demanded, taking a bite out of an apple. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were the one crying last time I left. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
Bastard. Of course he’d bring that up.
“Fine.” You huffed, sitting down on the wooden floor. “I just wish you hadn't taken me from the middle of that play. I saved up for a long time for that ticket, you know.”
“You call that mess a play?” Loki snorted, filling a tray with food. “I could hardly bear it. You’re lucky I watched it for as long as I did.”
“But it was one of William Shakespeare’s.” You uttered in disbelief. “Everyone is saying he’s the best playwright to have ever lived…”
“Shakespeare? I’ve never heard of him.” He said, sitting down next to you. “It’s a shame mortals can’t come to Asgard. Otherwise, I’d take you there and show you what a real play is.”
“Oh,” your eyes lit up as he mentioned that name again, “tell me about Asgard.”
The god shoved a slice of cheese in his mouth. “I’d rather not.”
“Please,” you begged, eyes wide, “I don’t care if it’s a long story. We have all the time in the world.”
Loki glanced towards you, taking in your big eyes and your pouted lips.
“Fine.” He sighed, exasperatedly.
Your face broke out in a grin. He began to speak…
Loki told you of a world of gods and goddesses, a realm overlooked by a gilded golden palace, where both the fiercest warriors and the fairest maidens lived. He spoke of Vikings, of Norse mythology and stories whispered around campfires. Then, of elves and frost giants, of magical beasts and skilled dwarves. His words rendered you breathless with wonder.
“You must love your home.” You observed, interrupting him.
He turned to face you, his head tilting slightly. “Why do you say that?”
“Your eyes,” you responded, “when you talk about Asgard, they light up.”
The god frowned slightly. “Asgard is indeed beautiful, but… it is not without its faults.”
“What do you mean?”
“Being Odin’s son, it comes with strict requirements. For as long as I can remember, I have been judged on everything I do.” Loki’s voice was different, now. Cold as steel. “And for as long as I can remember, everything I have done, has fallen short…”
You glanced towards his fists. They were clenched tight.
“My brother, Thor,” he continued, “has always been my father’s favourite. I love him, but he is a fool, and reckless… and yet no matter how much I prove I am the better successor for the throne, my father refuses to see reason.”
You didn’t know what to say. You had only known Loki a short while, but he had always been cheeky and lighthearted, always wearing that permanent smirk. Now, he was different…
You grabbed his hand slightly, wrapped your fingers in between his.
“I understand your frustration. I know how terrible fathers can be, trust me…” You said, your voice gentle, reassuring.
The god looked at your fingers entwined with his. You sat in silence for a moment.
Finally, he spoke.
“So all I have to do to get you to touch me is be sad? Let out a little emotion?” His smirk had returned back to his face.
You let go of his hand. “You’re insufferable…”
He just laughed.
You sighed and stole an apple from his tray.
“Alright, I’m sorry.” Loki said, meeting your eyes with his green ones. “Thank you. For being nice.”
You rolled your eyes as you took a bite of your apple.
“Alright, it’s your turn. Where are you from?”
You froze. Goosebumps prickled at your flesh.
That was a topic you definitely did not want to talk about.
Loki seemed to notice your discomfort. “Or… you don't have to. We’ve been sitting here for hours. How about we have a little fun?”
You raised an eyebrow. “If this involves me taking my clothes off…”
“No,” he reassured, waving a hand, “nothing of the sort. I was thinking more that type of fun.”
You followed his line of sight. He was looking directly at the dozens of barrels of alcohol.
You smiled back at him. That did seem like fun.
**
Two hours later, the two of you laid down on the floor. You were both very tired and very, very drunk.
“I can’t believe you just drunk two whole bottles of rum!” You giggled.
“And I can’t believe you could barely finish half of a bottle…” Loki teased.
“Well, we can’t all be gods like you.” You breathed, staring up at the ceiling.
“That is true.”
Loki stretched his arms out, and wrapped one around your shoulders. Normally, you would move away. But right now, you were far too intoxicated to care.
“You know,” you sighed, inching closer towards his chest, “I lied before. I was counting the years…”
“I’m the God of Lies, Y/N.” He smirked. “I could tell.”
“I was just scared you wouldn't show up. Because I’m just always so… lonely. I never really had a family, and all my friends died a long time ago and-”
You stopped to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.
“-just, thank you. For showing up. That’s what I’m trying to say.”
It was silent for a moment.
“Don’t cry.” Loki eventually muttered, his fingertips gently tracing your shoulder. “I only came back because I was bored.”
“You’re really rude.” You hiccupped. “I’d hit you if I wasn’t so drunk.”
“I’m a god.”
“What does that have to do with being polite?”
“Everything.” He laughed. “And nothing, I suppose.”
“You’re being confusing.” You said, yawning.
“Honestly, I don’t think I know what I’m talking about either.”
You laughed as you snuggled closer into his chest. A voice in the back of your head reprimanded you for getting so close to him. You knew you shouldn’t, you knew it was dangerous to allow yourself to get close to anyone, especially after last time…
But you were so cold and he was, surprisingly, warm. And you could barely keep your eyes open.
“You can go to sleep.” Loki whispered, curling his arm tighter around you. “I don’t mind.”
Grateful, you closed your eyes. “Goodnight, Loki.” You mumbled, before falling asleep.
The god watched you as you slept. He saw the way your chest slowly rose and deflated, and how your eyelashes seemed to flutter slightly, and how the moonlight that snuck in through the rafters made your skin glow.
As he watched you, he had two clear, distinct realisations.
The first was that he was quite sure he’d never, in all his years, seen anyone or anything as beautiful as you in that moment.
And, his second realisation, was that he was now faced with the task of telling you that you had just spent the night sleeping in the Queen of England’s pantry.
Well, Loki thought, resting his chin on the top your head, he would just have to deal with that in the morning.
Spider-Man: Far From Home was SO GOOD!! I can’t even put into words how amazing it was, just every second from the marvel opening logo until the last end credit scene was *chefs kiss* PERFECTION.
Nobody said it had to snap this hard but it DID. Definitely one of the top 5 best MCU films!
You are an immortal who has spent your life travelling, forced to find your home in different places around the world. One day, you meet a certain God of Mischief. What follows is a friendship that spans centuries.
Warnings: a teaspoon of fluff
Word Count: 7.1k
A/N: I have no idea how age on Asgard works, but imagine Loki as 17/18 (in human years) in this chapter. Reader is a couple years older (looks-wise).
Italy. 1480
The sky was impossibly dark. Rain pounded at your back with unnecessary ferocity. In the distance, lightning crackled.
You pulled your hood over your head and continued walking, to where you did not know. The dirt road below you had turned to thick mud, and the scarce trees overhead offered little solace from the unrelenting rain. Your cloak flew behind you in the fierce wind. It wasn't until you tripped for the fifth time that you finally let your tears flow.
You allowed the heavy sobs to rack your frail body. The wind carried away your desperate screams as if they were nothing. Your bones burned and every muscle in your body ached. You knew you were too tired to go on any longer.
And so, you lied down in the black mud and let the rain pelt at your skin freely.
Keeping your eyelids open was not a battle you cared to win. But before you succumbed to your exhaustion, you issued one final plea.
Oh god have mercy, you prayed, and let me die before the sun rises.
Alas, it was not to be.
You were awoken by someone shaking you, roughly. The sound of muttered voices reached your ears. Reluctantly, you opened your eyes.
“Mother have mercy! I thought you were dead!” Two small blue eyes stared down at you from within a very round, pale face.
He was a pageboy, you realised. Beside him was a young girl, dressed in servants clothing.
You opened your mouth to speak, but no voice came out. Your throat was raw and aching, battered from the cold winds the night before. You rubbed at it with your hands.
‘Oh, you poor thing. You must be terribly sick. It’s a wonder you even survived out here.” This time it was the girl who spoke. Her voice was sweet and high pitched, like a bird’s.
Suddenly, the boy was wrapping his arms around your back and hauling you to your feet. Your legs, still stiff and numb, tingled as you stood.
You were up for no longer than a minute before the pageboy began to walk, talking as he did so. “Do not worry, there is no need to speak.” He reassured you. “I am Luce, and this is Sabina.” He gestured to the girl, who nodded with a smile, before continuing, “We are employees of the Amoretto family. Surely, you must of heard of them, yes? They are renown throughout Italy for their immense wealth.”
Unfortunately, you could only shake your head. Your mind was foggy and muddled. The family’s name was certainly not familiar to you.
The girl offered you a reassuring smile. “Lord and Lady Amoretto are generous people. They may allow you to stay with us until you get well again.”
You wondered whether this Lord and Lady were really as generous as the girl claimed. In your experience, wealthy people were hardly the hospitable type.
“Ah, here we are. See?” Luce’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You followed his line of sight.
What met you there was enough to take your breath away.
Just ahead of you was an enormous castle, it’s red brick walls stretching far across the horizon. Two towers emerged from its main body, branching upwards towards the clouds.
Sabina must have noticed your sharp intake of breath. She gave you a quick look and giggled before running off towards the castle. “I will inform the Lord and Lady we have a visitor.” She shouted back at the two of you.
As you and Luce neared closer and closer to the castle, your stomach began to churn. You had a feeling more awaited you beyond those walls than just friendly hospitality.
—————————————————————
Upon first seeing you, Lady Amoretto was certainly not impressed.
“Luce, what is this dirty girl doing here? She is getting mud all over the floor!” She shrieked.
Your cheeks flushed as, with horror, you remembered that you must look atrocious.
However, before you could attempt to speak, Luce explained your awful predicament. He spoke of how he had found you this morning towards the outskirts of the castle grounds. When he had first seen your frail figure and pale skin, he had thought you to be dead. In fact, if it was not for him so gallantly offering his help, you most likely would be.
At this, the Lady turned to you. “You survived out there, all alone, in that terrific storm?” She said, her words tilting upwards in astonishment.
You nodded meekly.
“Child, that is scarcely possible.” The Lady exclaimed, looking directly into your eyes. “My stable-boys have told me that the winds and rain last night were so wicked, several of our horses died as a result. Pray tell, how did a small creature like you travel in that storm and live to tell the tale?”
The answer, of course, was that you were no ordinary human. There was a power, ancient and mysterious, that ran through your veins. But, even if you could speak, you would not divulge any of this to Lady Amoretto. She was already staring at you as if you had performed a miracle.
“My Lady, she has lost her voice.” Luce commented, “Her throat must still be aching from the cold.”
The Lady allowed her eyes to wonder over your face for a while longer, before finally offering you a warm smile. She appeared to have decided what to do with you.
“Of course,” she remarked, “If I were to turn you away after everything you have endured, I feel like I would be ignoring the will of God himself. You must stay with us until you are well again.”
Then, she yelled for Sabina. The girl was at the Lady’s side immediately.
“Get this girl washed and cleaned up.” She ordered, turning to the young maid. “Then, you may show her to one of our guest rooms. Fetch her a gown and have her look presentable by supper. She will dine with us tonight.”
And with that, she exited the room, the large wooden doors slamming shut behind her.
Sabina led you upstairs. Marble statues and richly coloured paintings decorated the hallways. Above you, gold banners and portraits of noblemen and women hung from the walls. In all your years, you had never been inside such a place. As you walked, Sabina talked about Lady Amoretto’s generosity, and how joyous she was that you would be staying with them. What was responsible for her excess excitement, you were not sure. Perhaps she saw in you a potential friend. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that befriending you was not a wise idea.
After you had passed what seemed like hundreds of doorways, you finally came to a stop.
“And this is your room.” The young maid announced, opening the door.
Every last breath you were holding left your lungs as you stepped inside.
The room was enormous. The walls were painted in shades of the deepest blues and golds. The bed was large and made of the finest wood, framed by embroidered curtains. You even had your own private room for bathing. You were not aware that such luxuries even existed.
Sabina noticed your wondering eyes. “I’ve given you our finest guest room,” she giggled, “but I am sure the Lady will not mind. She seemed to take quite a liking to you, earlier.”
You returned her words with a large smile. It was the least you could do.
Not more than five minutes later, you found yourself sitting in the warm water of the bath. This was the second time the bath had been filled, the first lot of bath water, in which you had scrubbed at your mud-caked skin, had become so dirty that it had to be drained almost immediately.
Now, you were resting against the edge of the basin. Sabina ran a comb through your wet hair, preparing the silky tresses to be ready for braiding later. The scent of primrose oil tickled your nose. They must have poured it into the water earlier.
“I sent your old clothes off to be burnt.” Sabina whispered as she gently tugged at a knot. “I hope you don't mind.”
You waved a hand, reassuring Sabina that she was not to worry. Closing your eyes, you sunk deeper down into the warm water.
“You are so lucky…” Sabina gushed behind you. “Tonight, you will get to dine at the Lord and Lady’s table. And meet their son.”
You raised a questioning eyebrow. Son?
“Alessandro…” Sabina gushed. The mention of his name seemed to make her breathless. “He has the most wonderful blue eyes, and long, brown hair. Oh, what I would give to be able to dine at his table. Even just to have a conversation with him…”
You chuckled as Sabina launched into a long recount of the many admirable qualities she believed the man to possess.
It sounded like someone was in love.
Well, you thought, if Sabina was worried about you stealing the heart of the young lord, it was fruitless. There was only one boy you had ever loved. And he had died, many, many years ago.
Your jaw clenched at the memory. You were determined to never love another.
After your bath, you were dressed in a thick, silk gown. The soft material on your freshly scrubbed skin felt like heaven. You had to stop yourself on more than one occasion from letting out a moan of pleasure.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Sabina, who had left for the kitchen earlier, entered. She now held a small cup in her hand, full of steaming liquid.
“I thought this might help, for your throat.” She said, setting the cup down beside you.
You gave her a smile of thanks, gently lifting the hot beverage towards your lips. The sweet smell of honey and spices engulfed you. As you drunk, the harsh aching in your throat seemed to dim.
Sabina watched as you eagerly finished the cup.
“Try to speak.” She said.
“T-thank you.” You whispered. Your eyes widened as you realised the beverage had worked.
Sabina grinned widely, her big eyes lighting up. “I knew it would work. That’s my special recipe, you know.”
“Well, you are very clever.” You spoke, your voice still gentle. “I have never seen such an effective cure for a sore throat.”
The blonde-haired girl giggled. “Now that you are no longer a mute, you must tell me your name.”
You hesitated. “My name is… Y/N.”
Her eyes widened. “It is a very pretty name, but one I have never heard before. Where are you from?”
This was what you had been afraid of.
“I-I can’t remember.” You stuttered. “I must have hit my head the other night. Whenever I try to think back, everything is blank. It’s all very confusing.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Sabina cried, distress lacing her voice. “Do you remember anything about your family?”
You shook your head. On cue, tears began to well in your eyes. You were good at this lie. It was one you had practised many times before.
Sabina wrapped you into an embrace.
“Hush,” she whispered, trailing her fingers through your hair, “everything will be okay.”
You were just about to reply when the sound of bells rang throughout the room.
“That’s the call for supper.” Sabina muttered. “Come, we must get you ready.”
—————————————————————
Like the rest of the castle, the dining room was nothing short of decadent. As you sat waiting for your food, you couldn’t help but admire the artwork that hung from the walls.
Your attention was soon diverted when a servant placed a bowl of soup in front of you. The scent of exotic spices drifted towards your nostrils and made your mouth water.
A pang in your stomach reminded you that you hadn't eaten anything in days.
“Y/N, remind me of where you were from.” Lord Amoretto’s voice boomed from across the table.
“She can’t remember, dear. She has already explained this to us.” His wife said, placing a hand on his arm.
You nodded, picking up your spoon and dipping it into the creamy soup. “I still cannot remember much, but I do not wish to be a burden. I will leave as soon as I have regained my strength.”
“Nonsense.” It was now Alessandro who spoke. “A maiden as pretty as you? You may stay as long as you like.”
The rest of the table was silent.
You offered the young lord a weak smile of thanks before returning to your soup.
After dinner, you were returning to your room, belly full of food, when someone grabbed your arm. You turned around in a hurry.
It was Lady Amoretto.
“Y/N, follow me. I would like to speak to you.” She said, before dragging you by the sleeve into an empty hallway.
“Lady, have I done something to offend you?” You hesitantly asked. Something nagged at the back of your brain, a voice telling you that whatever she was about to say was not good news.
“Offend me? No, no, quite the opposite.” She reassured you.
Your mouth was halfway open, ready to speak, when you felt her soft hands on your cheeks.
“My son speaks the truth. You are very pretty.” She muttered. “When you arrived here this morning, you were as dirty as a peasant. But I saw your eyes and your face, and I guessed that underneath the mud and dirt was a beautiful young woman. That’s why I invited you to dine with us. And now, I see, that I was correct.”
Her hands still clutched your face. Her eyes were unmoving, staring directly into yours.
“My Lady, I thank you for your kind words. But is that why you have brung me here?”
She chuckled at that and finally dropped her hands. “No, if I wanted to simply pay you compliments I could do it across the dinner table. I have brung you here, because I have a proposition.”
Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
“Alessandro,” she continued, “is in need of a wife. He is young, and handsome, and the heir to our fortune. Yet, our options for a suitable bride are limited. Currently, he is besotted with a young girl from Rome. They have met a couple of times. But, I do not like her.”
Your heart started thumping. You didn’t like where this was going.
“Her family is rich, but they are controlling. And Alessandro, he is my only son…” At this, the Lady began to weep. “If they marry, and he leaves for Rome, I know he will not return. But you… you are perfect. You have no family, no home. If he were to marry you, he could stay here forever.”
“I am not sure if that is wise-” you began.
“Nonsense. You are pretty, prettier perhaps than even the Roman girl. And Alessandro has already taken a liking to you.”
You shivered, thinking of the way the man’s eyes had lingered over your body at dinner.
“But, we have only just met.” You added, hoping that she would abandon her idea.
“I will go to my husband now and tell him what I have told you. If Alessandro believes this was his father’s suggestion, he will agree to the marriage.”
No, you thought. This can’t be happening. You reprimanded yourself for ever entering these castle walls.
“My Lady, I appreciate your offer, but I really think-”
But before you could finish, she grabbed your arm tightly.
“You will marry my son.” She commanded, stepping so close that you could feel her hot breath on your face. Her eyes turned to stone. “Because if you do not, you will be out. Out in the cold and the rain. And this time, God will not save you. For I will run you out of these grounds until you are deep within the forest, and if the storms do not kill you, the wolves will.”
Goosebumps rose along your flesh. Your mind screamed at you to run, to brave the dark nights and escape. You had been through worse. But then you remembered last night. How the rain had slashed at your back and how the cold had beat your skin until it was purple. You couldn’t do it again. You would rather die.
“Okay,” you stuttered, “I… I will do what you ask of me.”
Smiling, the older woman let go of your arm.
“Thank you.” She said, her eyes returning to normal. “You will not regret this, I promise.”
You waited until she was out of sight before you let yourself collapse.
—————————————————————
The next morning you awoke before sunrise. With a grimace, you realised that overnight your closet had been filled with gowns of various colours and materials.
A gift from the Lady to her future daughter, you guessed.
Hurriedly, you slipped one over your head. You did not bother to even run a comb through your hair before you wrapped your cloak around yourself and set out.
Close to the castle was a lake. The water that filled it was crystal clear, and the trees that surrounded it were alive with birdsong. It was here, by the lake, where you now sat.
Guided by the light of the slowly rising sun, you clasped your hands together in prayer.
Throughout the centuries you had spent on this Earth, you had heard tales of more gods than you cared to keep count of, and yet, you had never decided on one to believe in.
Now, however, you closed your eyes and prayed to every god you could think of.
“Please,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face, “whoever is listening. Please, help me. I don’t know what to do. I cannot marry this man. What will happen to me when he discovers I do not age? When he sees how my skin does not wrinkle and my eyesight does not worsen?”
Below you, the surface of the lake let out a faint ripple.
“And yet, I cannot run any longer…” You choked out through your tears. “I am too weak. Please, give me a way out. Please… give me an answer.”
You stayed kneeling like that for what seemed an eternity, praying to every god who would listen. When you couldn't take it any longer, you fell to the ground and began sobbing. Your hands covered your mouth as big, fat tears rolled down your cheeks and fell to the grass below.
“It’s always a pity, seeing pretty girls like yourself so distraught.”
What?
It was a voice, from behind you. Hurriedly, you turned around.
There was no one there.
You were not stupid. You had definitely heard something. It was likely one of the servants, teasing you.
“I heard you!” You yelled out, wiping your tears with your sleeve. “Show yourself!”
From deep within the trees came a low chuckle.
You were furious. You rose to your feet and started off towards the trees, determined to find whoever had been teasing you and-
Suddenly, a man appeared in front of you. Your face slammed into his chest and you fell to the ground with a shriek.
The man chuckled again.
Infuriated, you pushed your hair back from your face and looked upwards into the eyes of your tormentor.
You gasped in surprise.
The man in front of you was tall, with ebony black hair, and the greenest eyes you had ever seen in your life.
“Who are you?” You breathed out, staring into his eyes.
“Who am I?” He smirked. “Well, I’m only the god you’ve just been praying to for the last hour.”
You inhaled sharply. He must be insane, you thought. You had seen paintings of God, and they all showed him with a white beard and a glowing halo. Not at all like the man before you.
“I don’t believe you.” You spat.
“No?” The man replied. “Well then, how do I know this? Your name is Y/N. You were born more than two centuries ago, which makes you unusually old for a mortal. And you have spent the last 150 years walking around Europe, too scared to stay in one place in case somebody discovers your little secret-”
You jumped up and covered the man’s mouth with your hand.
“Be quiet!” You hissed. “Anybody could hear you!”
The man moved to lower your arm. His touch was cold.
“There is no need to be worried.” He laughed. “We are alone.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “How did you know all that? Have you been following me?”
“No. Well, not in the way you’re thinking…”
You had heard enough. You grabbed the man’s shoulders and pushed him until he was up against a tree.
“You are going to tell me who you are and how you know everything about me, and you are going to do it now. Do you understand?” You glared into his eyes as you spoke.
Despite being significantly larger than you, the man struggled. “Well, I certainly didn’t know how strong you were…”
You shoved him further into the tree.
“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. My name… is Loki. And I wasn’t lying before. I am a God… sort of.”
Your eyes widened at this.
“But I didn’t suddenly appear because you prayed to me.” He continued. “I’ve been watching you for a while now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes things get boring on Asgard. I like to come down here and play tricks on people. Then, one time, I saw you. And then, the next time I came down, I saw you again. I remembered what you looked like because, well… you are rather good-looking…” He stopped to smile at you.
“I am not interested in compliments from you. Continue speaking.”
“Fine. I saw you the second time and, at first, I didn’t think anything of it. But then I realised, almost fifty years had passed. And you still looked the same. So, I got curious. I began to visit Midgard- I mean, Earth- more often. I followed you.”
“You have been following me all these years?! Why? What is so interesting about watching me travel from village to village?”
“I’ve already told you.” The man sighed, exasperated. “Asgard can be awfully boring sometimes. It’s humorous to see the mundane lives of humans. And, I wanted to check you were still alive. I was curious about how long a mortal could cheat death. Now, will you please let go of me?”
Reluctantly, you loosened your grip on his shoulders.
“Why have you only decided to show yourself now?” You questioned.
The man, Loki, smirked. “Your crying was getting annoying. I couldn’t stand by and listen to it for any longer.”
You glared at him.
“Relax, I’m only jesting.” He said, smiling. “Besides, I figured you could use my help.”
“You would help me?” You asked, your voice heavy with disbelief.
“Yes. I have a proposition…”
You let out an exasperated sigh. “The last time somebody told me that, it did not end well.”
Loki chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. I think you might agree to this one.”
You turned to look him in the eyes. “Fine. What is it?”
“I will help you escape this castle, and I will take you somewhere where you will never have to hear or worry about that awful family ever again.” He said, meeting your eyes with his. “In return, all I ask… is that you sleep with me.”
“What!?” You gasped.
“Sorry, did I misspeak? Do you call it something else here?”
“No,” you growled, “I understood you perfectly well. I was simply in disbelief that you would dare utter such a thing.”
“You are being unreasonable.” Loki declared. “I am offering you an escape, a respite from this horrible predicament you find yourself in… all I ask is for one night with you.”
The anger that filled your body was so intense you were surprised you didn’t shake with rage.
“I don’t need your help!” You yelled. The god jumped in surprise. “I have survived for centuries without you, and I certainly don’t need you now. You should go and find another woman to spy on, for if I see you again, I will kill you myself.”
“I would like to see you try.” The green-eyed man jeered.
You turned back to him, your cloak whipping behind you. “Leave!”
Loki would have continued to tease you, if it were not for the dangerous glint he saw in your eyes as you turned to face him.
“Fine,” he muttered, “if you don't want my help, that is your decision. But when thirty years pass and your husband’s family discover you haven’t aged, do not blame me when they burn you at the stake!”
And with that, he was gone.
—————————————————————
A week had passed since your strange encounter with the god. Since then, every day had seen you consumed with talk about your upcoming wedding.
There was so much that needed to be done. Fine silk for your wedding gown had to be specially ordered from Rome, animals had to be hunted and prepared for the ceremony feast, and invitations had to be sent out to noble families across the country.
But, the most pressing issue, according to Lady Amoretto, was that you still did not have a portrait.
“Every fine woman in Europe has their portrait painted and hung on their walls.” She had told you over dinner one night. “You will be no exception. I will request one of the masters to come here and do it.”
Alessandro had slung an arm over your shoulder. “What a fine idea, Mother. Of course, we must have my bride’s beautiful face on display for all to see!”
You had smiled and exclaimed that you were very excited.
Another lie.
Today was the day that you were to sit for your portrait. On the Lady’s request, a prestigious painter from Florence had arrived at the castle. He was currently downstairs, arranging his oil paints and waiting for you.
You, on the other hand, were in your room, staring at yourself in the mirror. Sabina had braided your hair and pulled it back tightly, before dressing you in the most elegant gown in your closet. Frankly, you thought the high collar and large sleeves made you look ridiculous. But there was nothing you could do about it now. You were already late.
“Y/N, darling, you look magnificent!” Lady Amoretto beamed as you entered the room.
“Thank you, my Lady.” You replied, bowing your head.
Standing behind your future mother-in-law was an old man. His beard was long and grey, and he wore a paint-stained apron.
“Y/N, dear, I would like to introduce you to Tomasso Vinci, the finest painter in all of Florence!”
The man gave you a warm smile and eagerly kissed both your cheeks.
“Mia bella!” He exclaimed, stepping back to look at you. “My Lady… when you asked me to paint the young woman’s portrait, you did not mention her beauty.”
You blushed and whispered your thanks. As Tomasso turned to sit beside his canvas, you couldn't help but feel there was something familiar about him, something that made you feel like you had met him before…
“My Lady, you must leave now.” Tomasso said, turning towards the older woman. “When I have finished painting, I will call for you.”
“Oh… of course.” Lady Amoretto stuttered, before walking towards the door. You guessed she wasn’t often ordered around.
Once she left the room, Tomasso gestured you over to the chaise lounge in front of him.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.” He insisted.
You sat down on the edge of the lounge, placing your hands in your lap. Your dress fanned out around you, displaying the elegant embroidering.
The painter’s eyes trailed over your gown before landing on your face. There, they lingered, taking in every detail of your features.
“Are you going to start?” You asked, growing uncomfortable.
“Yes, yes of course.” He reassured, picking up a brush. “Forgive me, I was getting lost in your eyes.”
You do not know how long you had been sitting there for, but you theorised it must have been several hours, at least. Your back was aching and your neck had grown stiff. Tomasso had been intensely focused on his painting, barely uttering a word to you the whole time.
“My apologies, but do you think we could… take a break?” You breathed out in desperation.
The painter’s eyes immediately went to you. “Are you uncomfortable?”
You nodded.
“Then of course, dear. You may rest. Here, why don’t you come see how the painting is coming along. I believe it may be one of my favourite ones yet.”
Eager to see the work of a master, you jumped up and wandered over. But, when you saw the artwork, the smile dropped from your face.
It was… horrible.
The canvas was covered in chaotic brushstrokes. Colours had been applied messily and blended without care, making it appear more like a child’s attempt at painting than a master’s piece.
You couldn't stop the gasp of horror from leaving your lips.
But, rather than being offended, the old man let out a chuckle.
A chuckle you had definitely heard before.
Before your eyes, Tomasso transformed.
Now, the man sitting in front of you was no longer wrinkled with age.
It was Loki.
“Did you like my Italian accent?” He said, his lips pulled in a mischievous grin.
“You vile beast!” You exclaimed, lashing out at his arm. “I told you to leave me alone!”
“Stop that,” he said, gripping your wrist, “there is no need to resort to violence.”
“You are lucky I do not strangle you.” You growled. “As if you did not offend me enough last time! And now, you have made me sit without moving for hours, all so you could paint that!”
“You don’t like it?” Loki pouted. “I thought it was rather good.”
“What are you doing here?” You demanded.
Loki grinned. “I have come to offer my help, again.”
“I already told you. I am not interested.” You declared, moving to leave. You had heard enough from him.
“Wait, wait!” The god called out as you neared the door.
You turned towards him, your arms crossed.
“I’ll help you for free. You won’t have to do anything. I promise.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “And why should I believe you?”
“Because… I’d feel guilty if I didn’t.” Loki admitted, glancing towards the ground.
You rolled your eyes, moving to grab the door’s handle. But something made you stop. You still didn't trust him, but… you were in desperate need of help.
“Fine.” You sighed, exasperated. “The wedding is due to take place next week. How do you propose I escape by then?”
Loki looked up, a smile playing at his lips. “Do not worry. I already have a plan.”
“Care to share what it is?” You said, lifting an eyebrow.
“All you have to do is go about your life like you already are. Don’t give anybody reason to be suspicious. I will come and get you when the time is right, and then we will escape.”
You weren't sure if you liked the sound of that. But what choice did you have?
“Fine.” You sighed.
A smile lit up his face.
“There’s just one more thing.” You said.
“What?” He asked, brows furrowing.
“You still owe the Lady a painting.” You smirked.
The grin fell from the god’s face. He swore aloud as he turned around to face the mess of a canvas.
You made to leave. “And, I’m expecting my eyes to look perfect, considering you love them so much!” You yelled back at him, before slamming the door behind you.
—————————————————————
For the next week, you spent every day waiting for Loki to come for you. You were suspicious of every stranger you saw, half expecting them to be the god in disguise. And yet, every night, you returned back to your bed disappointed.
Before you knew it, your wedding day had arrived.
You were awoken that morning by the smell of roasting meat. Evidently, the preparation for tonight’s feast had already begun.
“Y/N!” Sabina’s high-pitched voice called, as she ran into your room.
You rubbed at your eyes and groggily mumbled a greeting.
“Today is the day!” The maid exclaimed, throwing open your curtains. “Hurry, we have no time to waste. There is so much to do!”
You were still half asleep as she dragged you out of bed.
As you later found out, ‘we have so much to do’ really meant ‘we must transform you into an entirely different woman by this afternoon.”
After Sabina had woken you up, a trio of handmaidens had poured through your doors.
Instantly, your bath was filled and heated. Before you knew it, you were being stripped of your nightgown and shoved into the warm water. Two of the servants scrubbed at your skin whilst another massaged scented oils into your damp hair.
Once you had been cleaned and dried, every inch of your body was waxed. Whilst Sabina combed your knotty tresses, the other handmaidens polished your nails and plucked at your eyebrows. Floral scented perfume was applied to various areas of your skin.
By the time your dress arrived, you were already exhausted.
The gown was so heavy, it took all four of the girls to lift it over your head. Once it was fitted, they set to work on your hair. Your long locks were braided tightly and pinned back, before being decorated with aubrieta buds and daisies. Finally, your cheeks were powdered and your lips painted with vermillion.
When, at last, you were able to look in the mirror, you did not recognise yourself.
Your gown was elaborate. Made of the finest red silk and embroidered with gold thread, with lace sleeves that draped towards the floor.
The tight style of your hair made your facial features more clearly stand out. You took in your bright eyes, the curve of your lashes, the angle of your cheekbones.
You blinked in disbelief. You had always been told you were pretty, but it wasn’t until now that you had ever really believed it.
“Come,” Sabina said, gently taking your hand, “the ceremony is about to begin.”
—————————————————————
Your heart had never beat so fast in your life.
You stood before a set of large, engraved wooden doors. Once they were opened, you would be met by rows and rows of people. Noblemen and women from around Italy, families from the surrounding villages, even the castle’s servants. Hundreds of people were in attendance, all waiting to see Alessandro Amoretto’s bride, the mysterious girl who claimed to have no family, no home. They would all be judging you, you knew, as soon as you stepped through those doors.
Your eyes began to shine with tears.
You were never supposed to be standing here. You were supposed to be somewhere far, far away by now.
You mentally cursed Loki. He said he would help you escape. He had promised you. The bastard.
But then, you directed your anger towards yourself. How could you be so foolish? You weren't friends with the man, you hardly even knew him. Of course he wasn’t going to help you. He was probably somewhere now, laughing with his friends and telling them about the human girl he had tricked.
Suddenly, music began playing.
You knew what that meant. Quickly, you wiped away your tears.
The doors opened.
As you made your way down the aisle, every head in the hall turned to look at you. You heard hushed whispers, muffled gasps of surprise.
Just look ahead. Focus.
Alessandro stood at the front of the room, staring at you intently. He wore a red tunic and knee-length boots, and his shoulder-length hair was tied at the nape of his neck. His family crest, embroidered in gold, covered his chest.
When you stepped up and took your place across from him, he winked at you.
You gave a weak smile before looking at the ground.
Standing in between the both of you was a priest, bald-headed and wearing a white robe. As he rose his arms to address the audience, the gold sashes slung across his shoulders billowed.
You did not pay attention to the words he spoke. Instead, you stared at your feet, willing away the tears that burned at your eyes.
Eventually, the priest’s eyes turned to you. “Do you, Lady Y/N, accept this man as your husband?”
“Yes,” you whispered, “I do.”
“And do you, Alessandro of the house Amoretto, take this woman as your wife?”
Alessandro smiled, his blue eyes crinkling. “Yes,” he beamed, “I do.”
“Well then,” the priest muttered, “that makes what I am about to do rather unfortunate.”
Your eyes lifted towards the priest in astonishment. Could it be?
“What do you mean by that?” Alessandro demanded.
“I am afraid that I cannot allow this young maiden to marry you.” The priest declared, his voice deepening.
At that, the audience let out a collective gasp of shock.
The priest’s plump figure began to transform before your eyes.
You couldn't believe it. A grin broke out across your face.
Suddenly, Alessandro grabbed you. The sharp sound of a weapon being drawn echoed around the room, and you felt a blade being pressed against your throat.
“Unhand her.” Loki demanded, glaring daggers at your groom. “Now.”
“My wife will not be going anywhere with a demon like you.” Alessandro spat. “I would rather kill her myself.”
“A demon?” Loki cried, incredulous. “You are a fool, aren't you?”
“Leave, you wicked creature!” Lord Amoretto’s voice yelled from the crowd. “Or I will have my hounds set on you!”
The god simply rolled his eyes.
Angered, Alessandro dug the edge of the blade further into your throat. You choked out in desperation.
“I told you to unhand her.” Loki growled, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, Alessandro was sent flying backwards. His sword flew from your throat and hit the floor with a clang.
“You bastard!” You choked out towards the man, rubbing at your now indented throat.
The crowd was yelling now. Some began to run towards you, anger in their eyes.
“You do still want to leave, don't you?” Loki said, turning towards you.
“Yes!” You cried. “Now, if you don’t mind.”
“Just checking.” Loki grinned, grabbing your hand with his.
Then, before you knew it, you had both disappeared.
You opened your eyes.
Your surroundings were mostly dark, save for a few flickering candles.
You had no idea where you were.
Two arms were wrapped tightly around your waist. Loki’s.
You went to step away, but before you knew it, your world was spinning and you were on the ground.
“Don’t worry,” Loki said, lifting you to your feet, “it is normal to get dizzy after teleporting.”
Teleporting?
“Where are we?” You asked, brushing off your dress.
“Paris.”
“Paris?!”
“Well, technically, a village just outside Paris.” Loki clarified.
“Would you mind explaining to me what just happened?” You pleaded. “Everything is… very confusing.”
The god smirked. Something he did an awful lot, you realised.
“I just saved you. Like you wanted. I teleported us, using magic. Right now, we are standing in an abandoned cottage in France.”
You eyed the man suspiciously. “If you could just teleport me anywhere, at any time, why did you have to wait until the ceremony to do it?”
“Two reasons,” Loki answered with a grin, “first of all, I like to make a scene. It’s more fun that way. And second, I wanted to see you all dressed up. It would have been a shame to let such a lovely gown go to waste.”
“Has anybody ever told you how insufferable you are?” You huffed.
“Oh, relax,” the raven-haired man sighed, “I saved you before your wedding night, didn’t I? Be glad you weren't made to consummate your marriage.”
You couldn't help but blush.
Loki turned to you, a smile playing at his lips. You noticed how green his eyes looked in the candlelight.
“Do you think you might have… changed your mind?” He asked.
You tilted your head in confusion. “About what?”
“About my earlier proposition.”
“No!” You answered, whacking his arm.
“Sorry.” He mumbled, rubbing the spot where you had hit him. “I just thought you might be feeling generous…”
You rolled your eyes in his direction.
For a short while, you both sat in silence.
Eventually, Loki spoke. “I guess I better be going, then.”
“Oh.” You exclaimed. “To where?”
“Asgard. My family is probably wondering where I have been.”
“Where is this Asgard you speak of? I have never heard of it.” You queried, intrigued.
He waved a hand. “That is a rather long story.”
Silently, you wished he would take the time to tell you. You thought about the long, lonely nights and days that awaited you. It would be nice, to sit here and listen to his voice for a while.
But, to your dismay, he got up to leave.
“Will I ever see you again?” You asked.
“Maybe. It depends on whether I get bored again or not.”
You couldn't have that be the last thing he said to you.
“Loki, wait.” You whispered.
He turned to you expectedly. “Have you reconsidered my offer?”
“No.”
“Oh.” He said, the excited glint in his eyes fading.
To his surprise, you pulled him into a hug.
“I just wanted to say, thank you.” You breathed. “You really did save me back there. Even though you hardly know me.”
Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around you. “It’s alright, really. It was actually kind of-”
“It was the nicest thing anybody has ever done for me.” You choked. Tears fell down your cheeks.
Loki’s mouth dropped. No one had ever cried about something he’d done before. Well, not happy tears, anyway. He was unsure of what to do.
“It’s okay.” He whispered, hugging you tight. “You’re safe now.”
After a minute, you let go.
“You have to leave now, I suppose.” You sniffled, straightening up.
“Right…”
You glanced at the floor, wiping at your tears with your sleeve.
“Y/N… you will see me again. I promise.”
“When? Next century?” You asked.
Loki laughed. “If you’re still alive by then.”
You let out a small smile. “Oh, I will be. Believe me.”
Softly, Loki lifted your chin up. “I don’t doubt it.” He whispered.
And then, with one final look into your eyes, the god snapped.
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