oracleofasgard:

She found herself slipping back into her normal facade rather easily, just as quickly as her king had slipped from her grasp. Vila  bunched her hands in her skirts, tucking one foot behind the other and kneeling down into a curtsy before him. She had clearly disrespected her king, speaking so boldly, why had she even considered such a thing, that such a moment of intimacy was something more than a clever ruse of her master made to test just how bold she had indeed become in his absence.

Dropping her head low, refusing to meet the condescending gaze of her master, the veela backed off slowly, rising from her curtsy and gathering her skirts into a tight, nervous hold. This was quite unlike her, she mused, to be so bold and brash and selfish and to be played so easily into her master’s whims, even, if at this point in her life, that is what she believed she existed for, the whims of her king and the assistance of his ascension to the throne.

Vila kept a straight face, stood tall as she could with shoulders unarched, unafraid, keeping a respectful distance from Loki and a dignified posture about her, showing no surprise or disdain at the current change of events. The nymph ceased biting her lips, and instead began to roll the bruised flesh between her canines, flushing the area pink again with blood.

“Please forgive my assumptions, sire, they were quite brash and I was clearly out of line. I have no reason to believe I have a say in your affairs, you are correct my king, I am nothing but a servant. Shall I leave you to your plans now?” Vila was hesitant, she was walking on thin ice as it was, to upset her king again, no matter what sort of past she had with him, would certainly mean punishment. Any punishment the God of Mischief could muster left her terrified in so many more ways than an Asgardian justice ever could.

“Planning in safety is not time wasted, sire, however both Asgard and soon Midgard will be crawling with those out for your head. Might a servant advise you to move to a new location soon, my King?” Vila downturned her head once more, ducking into that familiar curtsy as she advised her lord of a more … careful plan of action. Not that her second sight was not fogged by a certain figure, she could see clearly the threats that faced them, both those on Asgard and those in transit to meet them here on Midgard. It would be time to move again, soon.

She listened to his musings carefully, remembering again the snippets of hurt flashing upon her master’s face, the moments of tension she had witnessed through visions between the Allfather and his adopted son, the moments through his battle with the Avengers, the insecurity and loneliness that played on his face. Vila let it slip, she should not have, but she did, just a simple mumble, but a statement she would wish to take back nonetheless. “I did, sire. I missed you.”

He knew he’d wronged her. Loki knew full well that his harsh behavior was entirely unnecessary, only hurting them both even more. Vila did not deserve to be treated so harshly, especially after she’d sacrificed so much for him. The trickster was aware of that, but his pride and humility made him silent, giving no room for apologies.

But as the veela spoke, Loki frowned, letting a tense sigh hiss through his teeth as he glanced to the side. His viridian gaze dropped to the floor momentarily, then flicked back at the oracle. No. He could not risk losing her. He had nothing, no one, besides her. Sometimes a little embarrassment was necessary.

“Leave me be.”

Again, he spoke without thinking. Fool, he cursed himself silently, glaring at the floor. Loki hated himself for it all. He only made more trouble, always. There was not even a family left to love him. At least, that was how he certainly saw things.

But her last words came as a surprise to him, making him draw his gaze back towards Vila. She had.. missed him? Even after what the two had gone through together, hearing such a phrase sounded strange to the Asgardian’s ears, especially after having endured such cruelties without her.

He did not wish for her to leave his side, after all.

“No, Vila—“ 

Without thinking, he stepped forth, grabbing her by the arm, his grip unnecessarily tight. He did not want her to go, he did not want her to speak to anyone else but him, he wanted her and her alone.

“..Forgive me. I have been cruel to you, as of late. I’m afraid after.. these past ordeals, my mind has not been in the best of shape. I am sorry.”

Why was he acting in such a way towards a mere servant? Part of him asked himself that very inquiry, but Loki had begun to realize that there was more to their situation than simply them being a vassal and a lord, so to speak. They each had their own strengths and weaknesses, and, no matter how one would put it, he needed her. And so, the trickster loosened his grip, gently releasing her. He had so much still to learn.

(Source: mischievousgod)

oracleofasgard:

The space between them had again closed so easily, and the oracle found herself swept up in the moment once more, the warmth of being wanted ebbing away ever so slowly at the pangs of hurt that still rung throughout her nerves. Vila let him touch her, allowed him to tug his fingers through her thick mane of silvery blonde hair. If he wished to caress her, if he wished to be close, if that reassured her king that she was faithful, that she would not leave, then so be it.

Again, she looked at him confusedly.

“You were never one to blame yourself, my king. I do not like it. You are faltering. We are in our current situations because the fates have played their cards as such. Sire, I will stick by you through whatever hardship because I wish to see you meet your goals, not because I wish for such… closeness to hold you back.”
She gave him a hard stare, trying her best to meet his gaze, the positioning of her face was a bit off, but the feeling was still there, she meant what she said. “Once you become king, sire, you can do whatever you wish.”

Vila reached up to hold his face firmly between her hands, forcing him to look where her eyes would be and giving him a stern nod, cementing her point. She stood on her tip toes, uncurling them from their nervous ball and pulled his face down ever so slightly to meet hers for another kiss, removing her hands from his cheekbones and sliding them back to lace her around his neck, dancing her fingers along his cold skin as she did so. She moved closer to him now, pressing her small body against his fully, sealing her promise to again see him through to the throne with a series of light pecks upon the corners of his lips between breaths, with the warmth of another.

He was her king, her protector, her savior, her friend, and she his follower, her servant, the one who would trek through his footprints into the darkest abyss if it pleased him. Vila would do whatever her master wished for her.

But she was lowly, she would never call herself a lover, not in a million years. There were better suitors out there, ones who could make him full of warmth and love and security and could carry a fine heir for the king. Vila was a servant, and although she loved her master dearly, this was simply an act of loyalty, a selfish one on her part, allowing herself to be wrapped up in the notion that this was not his lonely nature calling for an answer, that he actually wanted her of all women.

It was preposterous, but she was selfish, and this was what she wanted above all else, above all standards and values she would set for herself.

And she knew she would come to regret it.

Her words were bold. Too bold. It frustrated him. The charm of their first kiss had begun to ebb away, his sharp coldness becoming a barrier between the both of them. Slowly, Loki began to freeze back over, eyes losing their soft warmth.

But she only pressed herself to him once again, small hands calming against his skin as their lips met yet again, and as he was released, he pulled himself from her grasp, his own hands grasping her by the wrists to pull her off of him. Loki stepped back, viridian eyes cold as they used to be, perhaps even harsh as he stared down at her.

“You have indeed become bold in my absence.”

Even his tone had grown quieter, delicately expressing his cruel disappointment. Head lifting, he paused, entirely unblinking. ”You are a mere vassal to me. Do not instruct me on how to act.. for I can assure you that my own goals for kingship are my single priority.”

He smirked, letting loose a short laugh. ”Perhaps we had better begin soon… after all, it seems I was wasting my time here.“ His grin was wide, reaching from ear to ear as he turned, moving to gaze out the window. ”Oh, I wonder if they missed me..“ But his words were laced with bitter sarcasm, his tone of amusement having vanished. After all, why should they have missed them when they did not even mourn his supposed death?

(Source: mischievousgod)

oracleofasgard:

She was not used to being held this lovingly, never had she expected to get used to it. Her betrothed had left long ago, and her openness to this sort of behavior with it.

Vila was still waiting for the cold front to slide its way back over Loki’s cool exterior, patiently acting along with him, but cautiously knowing this could only last so long, that her king would snap back at any moment with a venomous quip and the closing of those mental walls. And there was nothing she could do as a servant or as a friend… even as whatever word she could give to name this moment they were sharing, this relationship they were deepening, even that would not be enough to call this lord that she knew and loved so dearly out of the shell he had built for himself.

Hands upon his skin, she could feel the shivers run through him, she could feel him cover in gooseflesh just as she had. This feeling was just as exciting and fresh to her king, Vila thought, they were stumbling through this together, feeling the same butterflies and ache for the other’s warmth. She took to tracing delicate circles in the exposed skin of the back of his neck, just before the collar of his coat, occasionally stopping to twirl her fingers in his thick black mess of hair.

A flash, an oracle caught off guard and slumping slightly in her master’s grip, stumbling and clinching her toes into the ground to gain her balance again. A warm and elegant smile, beautiful, her king’s, all teeth showing and the apples of his cheeks were rosy, his eyes alight. Vila shivered. Was it she that was lighting her master’s face up this way? Or was this simply a vision of the past, a coy grin the trickster used to enchant his victim.

Was she simply a victim?

”As do I hope to keep you in my embrace for longer still. I believe my plans for Asgard can wait a little, if only for us.”

“Sire, do not allow my foolish whims to hold you back on your path to the throne. That must be first and foremost in your mind.” Reluctantly, she tore from his grip, letting her fingers slip out of their lacing with his, the pads of their digits just brushing as they pulled apart. She obstinately stared up at him, pressing her lips into a thin line and biting upon them, hard.

She visibly looked as if she had been slapped as he asked that question, her brows raised in attention, her shoulders slumped and her chin tilted confusedly. Would he really even have to ask such a question? After all she had done in his service, Vila was utterly astounded that he would be so rash as to ask that of her. “No, sire. I gave up my home, my occupation, dropped everything at a whim to see you through to the throne before I had even met you, lost my eyes as punishment for your service, watched you and only you in my visions for the longest time and shared this moment with you because I do not wish to be around you.” Her voice carried heavy sarcasm, a kneejerk reaction to the hurt she felt. “Am I that sparse in my affections and assurations to you that you even have to ask that sire? Am I doing something wrong? I would not take back any of my actions in your service, not for any reward. For you to even ask that question, my king, hurts deeply.”

Vila shied away from his next touch, gripping at her skirts, little hands balled into tight fists. Her face twisted into a deep set pout, brows arched. She felt small under his gaze, visibly shaken and upset with herself that she had not made her devotion more clear to him, to let her lord think so insecurely.

“I apologize, sire, for not being there for you enough… to allow you to think this way about me, to question me.”

It had been such a moment to be treasured, him cherishing their rare and unusual closeness. Their warmth. Loki should have, of course, been more careful with his words, but he had not anticipated such a harsh reaction from her. As Vila pulled away from him, he found himself taking a step back in turn, viridian eyes widening a bit as she spoke, seemingly hurt.

“I apologize, sire, for not being there for you enough… to allow you to think this way about me, to question me.”

“No, you have done far more than enough for me, Vila.”

“Forgive me… I had been careless with my words and ignorant towards all the trouble I have put you through.”

He stepped closer, slowly clearing the space that had grown between the two of them. One careful hand reached up, cupping gently towards her cheek, him moving carefully in case she rejected his touch once more. ”I promise you… I will get back your eyes. We will live under such poor conditions for no longer, once I become king.”

His other hand moved to the other side of her face, fingers pushing through a few locks of her long hair, coursing through. Her skin was so soft, cheeks so rosey, though Loki longed to gaze into her eyes, as he had used to do. He wished to lose himself in her cerulean gaze. 

“I will punish all who have hurt you. They do not deserve to live, after having pained you so.”

(Source: mischievousgod)

oracleofasgard:

Vila was tiny, frail, a weak-kneed doll in the strong and protective hold of her king. A cold tingle started at her fingertips as she caressed him, running up along her arms and jolting up and down her spine, meshing and exploding as it met with the heat from his own touches upon her pale skin. She was clammy, covered in gooseflesh, and the porcelain tones of her skin shivered under his caress, flushed red.

She found herself hiding her face in the crook of his neck, letting her nose brush against the skin covering his collarbone, her forehead against the thick and weathered leather of his coat. Her king’s affections were foreign, his warmth inviting and familiar like a fond childhood memory, but every caress, every touch, every kiss excited her and scared her and it was overwhelming. Vila was shy in the face of his affections, yet ran to hide in the very midst of the fire.

The nymph was pulled from her hiding place by a gentle hand under her chin. She bit her lip, rolling the sensitive flesh between her teeth letting it swell red as she fought her nerves, the virgin’s butterflies dancing in her stomach. Her traitorous body moved against her again, the oracle’s hands clumsily and blindly reaching up to cup his head in their grasp, fingers dancing along the hairlines behind his ears, playing in the soft black mess.

Vila’s body pressed further into Loki’s embrace, her lips moving up to meet his, craving for the warmth that he provided. More. More. More. If he wished for her to speak through actions, so be it! She reached up upon her toes to steal another light brush at his lips before tugging at his hair slightly to pull his face closer. The oracle reached up again to rub noses with her King, grinning softly with a childish happiness.

“Sire, please forgive my brashness, but I do not wish to let you go.”

He was not used to holding such a gentle, frail being within his arms. Loki’s entire life had been used in training to fight, or fighting, along with being educated to become king. The warmest form of affection that he had received had been from his adoptive mother, and, even then, his supposed brother, Thor, had always been quick to steal Frigga’s attention away from the trickster, an act which he had not enjoyed enduring.

Vila smelled sweetly, and the disguised frost giant let loose a faint shiver as one hand reached to the back of her head, fingers gently intertwining within her soft, silver hair, his emerald eyes holding a gentle expression within them. Oh, what simple pleasure such an experience brought him. It was quite a calming surprise.

His other hand moved as he tipped up her chin, smiling faintly at her, and he welcomed her moving back towards him. Their lips met, briefly this time, and he grinned as they parted. ”As do I hope to keep you in my embrace for longer still. I believe my plans for Asgard can wait a little, if only for us.”

His hand moved yet again, meeting her palm as he laced their fingers close, pressing himself to her as they kissed yet again. But the god paused, pulling away only to gaze at her eyes, his own features posing some sort of.. concern.

“Vila, are you.. pleased to remain with me?”

Loki knew it was silly of him to inquire, but he couldn’t help but wonder so, as so very many people had rejected him, whether platonically or familially. Perhaps at least she would remain with him, through thick and thin.

(Source: mischievousgod)

oracleofasgard:

Oh. He was certainly close, not that she did not enjoy the proximity to her lord. The closeness was… warm, reminiscent of a time where she was younger, bolder, not quite ready to settle down with her betrothed, a time long in the past. This attention was not unwanted, but it was sudden, unwarrented, undeserved. Loki was her king, however, and any objections Vila had were shoved under a sense of duty and a need to please the prince of Asgard.

“Vila, I am feeling better than ever.”

“That is indeed good news, Sire. You have been cold and distant since we left Asgard, and I was beginning to worry for your well being, my king.” She bowed her head respectfully, half to show relief in her master’s improving condition. This closeness was driving her mad, surely this was some enchantment, some ploy of Loki’s, true to his title of the God of Mischief. But why was he toying with her? It certainly was not fair.

And then everything blanked from her mind, thoughts and pictures and visions and sounds rushing out in a clattered cacophony, leaving nothing but a fuzzy warmth and the feel of lips brushing against lips.

And Vila was spellbound. Weak knees nearly knocking together as she leaned fully against her king, allowing one traitor of a hand to reach up and brush against his cheek, caressing the high point of his cheekbone and then limply sliding back down to rest in the crook where his shoulder met his neck, curling a lock of his hair around her delicate fingers. The nymph’s lips fell apart in a shocked o, and had she eyes, they would have thrown open, shaking and wide and staring at the king of their owner. Vila was shaking and nervous at his touch and her lips were burning although his touch was cold and soothing.

It seemed like hours before she finally gained the courage to speak again.

“I-If I could request that you repeat that act, sire…”

She had returned the gesture, seeming to enjoy the experience. What a pleasant surprise… Loki felt a warm rush of relaxation, and of relief especially. Viridian eyes wide open, he gazed down upon her gently, taking in just how surprised she was by his bold actions. 

He was rather amused. She seemed to have been so thrown off by the kiss, though such a response was only to be expected. 

The trickster gave way to a soft chuckle, eyes twinkling with beguilement. For a moment, all of the cold shell that he had formerly developed had seemed to have disappeared, leaving him open and sensitive. 

“So I see.“ 

A more confident grin made its way to his lips as he took control over the situation. “There is no need for you to speak, only to act..,” one hand cupping the side of her face as he pulled her close once more, and their lips met yet again, an entanglement of warmth and cold, fire and ice, raging passion all in one movement.

He did not wish to release her, he did not want to lose her warmth, their closeness. Somehow, Loki feared, almost like a child would, that if he let go the moment would be lost. And so, although  he held on, wrapping his arms around her even as their lips parted.

(Source: mischievousgod)

oracleofasgard:

She, of course, could not see the look in her master’s eyes as he gazed upon her, but some element of her second sight could tell the oracle that she was indeed being looked at. Suddenly nervous under her king’s stare, Vila raised her shoulders upward in a shy shrug, pink painting her flushed cheeks like a nervous maiden. Why, she wondered, was her master making such obvious advances upon her all of a sudden? Surely she, her immense devotion aside, was no fit match for such a king.

“I will take any punishment in your service, sire. You are my king and thus you are more than worth it.” Her lids creased and brows downturned as she tried to process this new… side of her master. As much as she cared, something was awry with her king. “Do not concern yourself with events so trivial to your ascension, sire.”

The nymphs skin burnt like hellfire in the places where his fingers trailed, and her lashes fluttered at his touch. Vila’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she craned her neck and face downward from his line of sight. As much as she … longed for this closeness, pre magic or post, it was not a right for someone so lowly as herself to accept such advances from the rightful king of Asgard.

“Sire, your offers are flattering, but they worry me so. They are quite out of character, and again quite frivolous. You should not waste your time with a servant, sire. I am quite certain you are ill. Are you feverish?”

“Feverish..?”

He could see her cautiousness, see the hesitance in her features, and yet, it only drove him on further. Loki would, as usual, do what he liked. ”Vila, I am feeling better than ever.“ A hint of amusement flickered to his face, and with one smooth move, he pulled her closer. 

A soft chuckle emanated from him as he paused. Did she not feel the same way for him as he did towards her? Normally, he would not have expected that to stop him from doing what he wanted, though she was a more special case… and yet, whether from the magic cast upon him or not, Loki felt that his attachment to her was too strong for him to mind.

Leaning close, he pulled her into a kiss, lips cool against hers. All thoughts of guilt and concern had melted away and he held her gently, cherishing the moment of peace. Their closeness brought a comfort he had not realised he’d missed, and, once it was over, Loki felt the aching loneliness.

“..Forgive me. I must not have been thinking.”

(Source: mischievousgod)

oracleofasgard:

“I look forward to seeing that ascension with my own eyes. I would not miss it for the world.”

“If they do, sire, it would be a very troublesome event for us. They are very formidable opponents, as foolish and … unevolved as their people are. I would not wish to see you hurt as I have in the past, sire. It worried me so.”

He paused, viridian eyes gazing at her, hesitating. For a moment there, only a moment, he could have sworn that he’d felt a change… but had it really been there? Had he truly sensed something out of the ordinary?

“Worried you?“ Loki was not sure of how to react to that. After all, he’d been on his own for so very long… it was rather strange to have someone care for him once more, this time for real. ”Oh dear… and yet, you have been the one to be so brutally punished.”

One hand reached to brush the side of her cheek gently, thumb resting lightly against a lock of her silver hair as the Asgardian gazed at her. She was so beautiful. Needless to say, it hurt Loki to know that she had received such a harsh fate, losing her eyes. He was sure he would get them back for her. Their enemies would pay thricely in return.

“Do not be concerned. We will live victoriously soon enough.. and together, as well.”

(Source: mischievousgod)

Anonymous sent: Magic anon! You are in love with the next person you speak with for the next twenty four hours!!

“You truly believe your magic will work on me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Ohoh. We’re in for some trouble, aren’t we?

oracleofasgard:

“Asgard? I look forward to that trip very much, sire. It pains me to see you off of your rightful throne for so long, my king.”

“Midgard is of little value to any who wishes to rule, sire, that is why none have pursued us here, they, aside from the other prince, simply do not care for the land, my lord. I do not forsee any trouble in our near future in staying here, not even from the band of ruffians who call themselves the Avengers, sire.”

“Naturally… but do not fear. Soon, I will resume my rightful place as king.”

“And the Avengers are of little trouble to us, for we will be gone long before they even find out we visited Midgard — that is, if they ever do. It’s all quite a laughing matter.”

(Source: mischievousgod)