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No Matter How Many Lies That I Live, I Will Never Regret

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Loki watches his sister whenever he can.

He can't help it.  Can't understand why his eyes never travel away from her red-haired form.

She's not the epitome of beauty held in high esteem in Asgard. 

She's too much of a warrior. He prefers his women softer. More feminine and more pliant.

Thora isn't that. Neither is Sif, her handmaiden and if Loki is right, his rival.

Sif knows, that he's her competition. Has always known it, if it's any indication how the other warrior maiden sticks close to Thora. 

Idly, he turns to the head of the table and wonders if their father knows of the undercurrents going through his court. He's all seeing and with those crows and wolves of his, he's omnipotent. 

His father slides a glance at him, but there's nothing in that steel grey eye that shows what he is thinking. But whatever it is, it isn't about Loki or his family. They hold each other's glances for a few more moments and Loki will later swear that there was a small nod of his head before he turns to look at Frigga.

Loki turns away and looks at his sister again. 

He nearly drops his mead in surprise when he catches her watching him with those dark grey eyes the same shade of a harsh storm. He holds her gaze in challenge until she is nudged by Fandral. She turns to him and Loki is the recipient of Fandral's glare. A fact that his sister misses, since she is basking in Fandral's attention. 

He forces his face to remain blank and to finish off his mead. She's young and Fandral is exactly what would appeal to a young woman. He loves his sister, but he also knows that she's not horribly wise. Nor is she experienced. She's a warrior first. Has always worked for that end at the sacrifice of what other young women would have been learning. She's not an adept magician and he's sure that Frigga still has to pick out her dresses for feasts. 

He studies her dress and smiles inwardly. She's dressed in a dark blue gown that emphasizes all her assets, with the accessories to match. Her hair is dressed in sapphires and Loki does mental calculations at the amount of jewellery and skin showing and comes up with the equation that Frigga has decided her daughter is ripe to put on the market and get married off. 

He curses himself for not noticing that particular aspect of her attire and looks around to see who else has noticed her gown and caught the meaning behind it.

It's obvious that Fandral has as well as other warriors. Not to mention Sif, who reaches out once in awhile to adjust or tweak a small detail in the gown or the hair ornaments in Thora's hair. He catches her doing it and notices how possessive the gesture is. Her smirk at being able to do what he can't in public makes his eyes darken and he promises himself later on, he will have his revenge on her. 

Possibly something with her hair, since he knew how much she valued the gold tresses he had seen her use to make Thora jealous and to her personal advantage with Fandral. 

He was very aware of what they did behind Thora's back. Very aware.

He doesn't let any of this show on his face. He simply smiles back and drinks the last of his mead before he retires for the night. The feast has gone on long enough and he's in dire need of a distraction. 

Or time away to formulate his plot properly. Either action will suit him just fine.

He's not made it that far. Just to the edge of the hallway that has all the alcoves when he hears her coming. 

She has tried to be silent, even in those slippers, but he knows that it is her by the subtle whispering of her robes and the soft jangle of her jewellery.

Despite her warrior tendencies, she's got lovely long red hair, like her mother and their father forces her to keep it, even if it is a nuisance when she fights.

He waits for her to come up to him and put her hand on his back before he turns around to look at her.

"Why are you leaving so soon, brother? The feast hasn't even gotten fully started as of yet."

She asks him, crossing her arms under her generous bosom and looking at him closely.

"Do you not want to celebrate with us any longer, brother?" 

She asks, coming closer to him and eliminating the distance between them.

"Or do you simply want to celebrate with me only? Is that why you are leaving? So that I can follow?"

Loki blinks at his sister and his tongue fails him completely at the glance that his sister gives him. Even though he's the taller one by several inches, he feels smaller in her presence.

This feeling is followed by a short burst of anger, since he is the trickster, the one with the silver tongue and the elder brother. He should be the one having the entire situation under control. 

But when he opens his mouth to reply, his sister smirks and he realizes that he's not ever had control of the situation ever. 

That becomes completely clear when she looks up at him and puts her hand on his chest. Her eyes are dark and narrowed and he's dismayed that for once, he can't read her thoughts as easily as he's used to. 

"You're not that subtle, brother. And I'm not that naïve, even if I am a maiden."

Loki swallows and tries to fight the blush that he knows is staining his face and winces at being so obvious to the point that Thora caught on. 

"Don't feel badly. It's only obvious because I've been watching you as closely as you have been watching me."

Loki's eyes widen. Well, that was a surprise. He has been knocked off his game if he didn't notice the reciprocation of his surveillance of his sister.

"So what do you propose to do now, that we are aware of how we feel about each other? Because, I for one, can think of better things to do than just stand in a hallway talking about our mutual attraction and risk getting caught."

Thora smiles and Loki grabs her arm to pull her away to the closest chamber they can find, which turns out to be her own. He doesn't waste any time throwing her down onto her bed and locking the doors before turning to face her.

She's pouting and dishevelled as she props herself up on her elbows, her dress up by her thighs and her hair loose and wild around her head as she looks at him, the challenge back in her eyes again as she looks at him.

He wants to wipe that look off her face and take her as roughly as any maiden he's had in his bed. But to do so, would cheapen her and him with his actions, since he'd be no better than Fandral or any of those warriors that stare down into her cleavage and see her as little more than a horse to possess and break down to their will.

No. He'd take his time and treat her like the prize she really was and make her pleasure his victory.

He removes his armour and helmet and places it carefully on a chair by the door, his eyes never leaving her face as he strips down to his underclothes. He could use magic, but he does it to watch the various expressions that flitter across his sister's face as each garment falls away to reveal a body she hasn't seen since they were very young and it was safe to bathe them together.

"Oh." He hears her whisper and he can't help but to feel pleased at her small exclamation and naked appreciation he sees on her face as he gets on the bed and crawls towards her, situating himself in between her spread thighs.  He pauses and looks up at her face, asking silent permission to continue. 

Despite the boldness she's shown earlier, he can see the small bit of doubt clouding her face now that the time for parrying has passed and they are just seconds away from the act itself. 

He can't resist taunting her though, to get her from looking at him that way. 

"I won't hurt you, if that's what you're afraid of." He tells her quietly as he props himself on one hand while the other pushes at her thighs to part her legs even further and expose her to him.

"As if, bro-Loki." She snorts and Loki doesn't miss her slip up. He doesn't comment on it, just pushes her dress up even further to reveal the delicate undergarments that he takes off with agonizing slowness. 

He drops the garment on the side of the bed before he looks at her face again. Although he's wary, she's not adverse to his actions, so he moves forward and presses his mouth right on her slit, kissing it lightly and making her gasp in surprise and move back slightly. 

He grabs her thighs and hold her in place as he gives her a slow lick, making her open up to him. He licks first one side and then the other of that delicate, velvet skin and savours the tart taste of her. Thora squeaks and moves again, but his grip on her waist holds her in position. Loki tighten his grip on her thighs and knows that there will be bruises as does so and the thought gets him going.

He wants for her to wear his marks all over her body, even if she can't tell anyone who has made them, he will know that they are there and that makes him go further into her, until his tongue is tasting deep inside of her and his face is covered in the musky, acidic scent of her. 

Thora moans now and stays in one place. Her hands are burying themselves into his hair and her nails are scratching his scalp, encouraging him to continue. Which he does, making her groan and cry out when he sucks gently on her clit, making her legs spread out and her cries to become louder and more frantic as he works on it, playing it as skillfully as he plays with words. 

He knows that she's close when he gets a burst of warmth on his tongue and her body arching off the bed. He goes further and she's right there, screaming out something unintelligible before collapsing on the sheets in a boneless heap, occasionally shuddering when her orgasm rides through her.

That's when pulls away and wipes his mouth, a sense of satisfaction and smugness welling up in him as he looks at Thora, who is lying there with her eyes at half-mast and her legs spread out wide, looking thoroughly debauched and languid from just that. 

He doesn't speak as he crawls up her body and pulls the low neckline down to reveal her breasts, which are as every bit as large and soft as he had imagined.  Her areolae are dark and her nipples are standing to attention. He smirks before he lowers his head and sucks on the right one, while he plays with the left nipple, rolling it and squeezing it until h hears a low whine coming from Thora at the sensations.  

She's moaning again. Deep throated moans are making him harder than before. He uses his free hand to skim over her body before he slowly goes in between her legs again and strokes down on her clit, making her jerk and make a noise as he strokes her.

"Gods! Please! Loki!" She moans, panting as he brings her body close to the brink again.

But he doesn't release her just yet. He's getting too close himself.

Loki pulls away from her and kneels in front of her, removing the last of his garments and leaving her looking at him, with eyes cloudy with pleasure. 

"This will hurt." He warns her as he positions himself above her and goes in. 

It's painful for both of them, since all Loki wants to do is obey his instincts and thrust hard. It's painful for Thora because she's still a maiden and Loki breaching her hurts, even if he is going as slow as he can to let her adjust to him being inside of her. 

Finally, after too long, he's in and lying flush with Thora, who whimpers only slightly as Loki lets her adjust before he thrusts into her, his instincts overriding him. He props himself up on his hands and moves in preparation to continue his thrusting and not come too soon.

She gasps and he has to bite his lip from spilling right then and there. She's deliciously warm, tight and soft. Ever so soft. Like velvet around his cock and he knows that he probably won't last as long as he would hope. He tries to stretch it out as long as he possibly can, but the feel of her around him and her nails digging into her back and her legs wrapped around his hips, rocking with every single one of his thrusts is too much for him and he succumbs, his shout loud and triumphant, overriding hers as he finally collapses on her.

He doesn't move away from her. He kisses her eyelids and she makes a small, happy noise in the back of her throat as she moves her face to allow him more access. She's very happy and he's shocked to notice he is too. He wants to stay with her like this for as long as he can, he thinks drowsily before sleeps claims him.


"I know what you did with her." Sif confronts him the next day, after he's woken Thora up and helped her clean up well enough so that if anyone notices her, they wouldn't think anything is amiss with her. She's limping and she's got bruises, but they are hidden at his request. She's not savvy enough politically to realize the implications just yet. 

"Jealousy doesn't become you, Lady Sif." Is all Loki will say to her as he puts the books he's read away in the library. He does it to deliberately snub her and it works. She steps up to him and stands directly in front of him, glaring at him with as much hate as she can muster.

"This isn't about jealousy!" She hisses at him and it is then that he looks at her.

"What is it about? You know she isn't my full-blood sister. And I care for her. More than you or Fandral could, since I don't see her as a prize to be exploited. Despite your words, I can see what plans are swirling about my sister, even if she doesn't see them herself."

Sif's eyes narrow at that. 

"Do you think Asgard will accept you lying with her?"

Loki's eyes glimmered dangerously at that question.

"If there is anything, even the merest hint of a whisper about what goes on between us, I will know on whose doorstep I need to lay the blame. And I promise you that you wouldn't want to find me as your enemy. Nor would Fandral, if you choose to use him as a catspaw in your endeavours."

He puts the book down on the table and moves closer to Sif, who stubbornly stands her ground. But her eyes betray her fear at having him so close.

"She is mine. You both have lost. She will be my consort and that is the end of this discussion."

He leaves the library then, insulting her greatly and taking the risk that she would throw a knife at his back. But she does not and only stands there, watching him leave with his victory.


Loki tells Thora about the conversation later. Much later. After she sneaks into his room and they lie together, exhausted and sated after another round of lovemaking.

"Am I really yours?" Thora asks him as they lay in bed intertwined together, her head on his chest while his fingers play idly with her hair.

"Always. Just like I am yours, Thora." He replies without hesitation. He means it. The crown is guaranteed to be his. Thora wasn't and now that she's in his bed, his ambitions are complete. 

"As you are, Loki. I never wanted anyone else. I know you thought I wanted Fandral, but he was a distant second to you. If I couldn't have you, then I would have him, or become a Valkyrie to escape being a pawn and without you, which is what I would have been otherwise."

Loki actually finds himself surprised at her words. He knew that she wanted him, but had never realized exactly how much she truly did. 

"I never knew." 

She smiles at him as she raises her head to look at him.

"You're not the only one with secrets."

He looks at closely and wonders if this doubt is what everyone else feels when he plays a trick on them.

He's not sure that he likes it.

But if it has gotten him his heart's desire, he's willing to swallow his pride just this once.