The Temptress
1/3
Thor rolls over to face the window. It's still dark, but he has become enough accustomed to the gradual lightening of the sky during his sleepless nights to know that it is an early hour of the morning.
His mind is plagued with thoughts of [i]her[/i]. Just exactly who [i]she[/i] is, however, is a mystery to him.
He calls her the Temptress. She refuses to tell him her name, and so he has given her some definitive title. And it is a fitting one, surely.
The first time she came to him, Thor had been so drunk on mead that his head swam, and he hadn't been sure if the beautiful woman entering his chambers was real or a cruel figment of his drunken imagination.
She had been real, though. Painfully so. She had taken Thor in her arms, pressed him to her bosom, and made him feel [i]wonderful[/i].
Her appearances to him come and go, happening often but with no identifiable pattern. It seems she enjoys Thor's suffering, enjoys his sleepless nights of yearning.
He can't remember what exactly transpired on the second time she came to him. He's lost count. Her appearances have been gracing him for little over half a year, but he feels as though this maiden has been visiting him like a specter in the night for ages. Thor doesn't want to think about what things had been like before her visits.
He wonders what it is about her that keeps him so on edge. She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Hair blacker than the midnight sky cascades down her back in loose, effortless curls. Her coy eyes glitter the color of emeralds but are far more spectacular. And her body... the swell of her breasts, her curving hips, her pale skin, and her all-around perfect figure drives Thor to the edge of madness each time he so much as thinks about it.
And yet he doesn't know who she is. Each time he asks, the Temptress silences him with a purred whisper and a graceful finger placed over his lips. He has no idea how she finds her way into his chambers and how she makes it past the guards. He has given up asking, only knowing that she sees him, and knowing that that is enough to please him.
She has an aura about her, something almost magical, that turns all of Thor's thoughts to her. He would do anything in his power to once more take his place between her thighs. [i]Anything.[/i]
When she takes her leave of him, the first days after are a walking nightmare for Thor. His head is a muddled mess, and it becomes obvious to everyone he's got something weighing on his mind. His mother presses her hand to the back of his head to check his temperature, Loki shoots him calculating glances from across the dinner table, and his friends take advantage of his lack of attention while sparring.
But alas, it is worth it for Thor. Worth every single second.
On this restless night, ever so quietly, Thor can hear the door open. He's turned over in a moment.
And there she is. His mysterious seductress of the night stands in the doorway. She looks as radiant as ever, wrapped in her fur cloak with her dark hair spilling so perfectly over her shoulders. She steps inside and closes the door.
"My lady," Thor murmurs as he stands from the bed. He offers her a bow and then his hand. "I am pleased you join me again."
She smiles at him and drops her cloak to the floor. Beneath it, she wears nothing, and Thor can feel the heat in his body rise as she steps toward him. Watching her approach him with such delicate, gliding steps is something that never fails to get him interested.
If there is one thing Thor likes about her personality, it's her insistence on getting straight to the point. She wraps her arms around his body and presses their lips together. Hers are soft, and once he tastes her, it's like he can't get enough. It becomes more and more difficult to contain himself with each swirl of her tongue.
He beds her without delay, not wanting to be too hasty, as he'd like to savor the moment, but wanting to get to that moment quickly.
Thor relishes the way she feels beneath him. He is weak in the hands of the fair maiden below him, completely unable to conduct himself like usual. He caresses her skin with care and presses his mouth to hers, wanting to have her sweet taste on his tongue until morning. And she is compliant, yet somehow completely in control of him.
"My temptress, I have nearly gone mad with desire for you," he tells her, and she runs her long fingers through his hair, as if to let him know that she understands and the sentiment is reciprocated.
He trails his kisses downward, to her breasts. Thor's hands travel across her milky, pale skin, and by the Norns, he is overwhelmed by her extreme beauty. It is just the beginning of their usual process. He makes love to her soon after, though he'd like to stay and relish the moment for all eternity. Their bodies become one with the ritual of skin-on-skin, sweat, and shared noises of pleasure.
But before he comes, when he announces that he's close, when he can feel the familiar pressure build at the base of his spine, she pushes him below her and forces their movements to cease. She perches atop Thor with no explanation and stares into his eyes. For a few long moments, he's captivated by the mesmerizing depth he sees there.
"I mean no disrespect," he gasps, breathless, still all too formal and polite, even in the heat of the moment. "But I cannot take much more of this."
Still, she doesn't move. She trails a silent finger down his chest, letting him know that she's looking for more. Another moment passes, and they cannot take it anymore.
He groans, finally; it is nearly impossible to read her thoughts and find what she's looking for. His head thrown back into the pillow, Thor begs, "Mistress, [i]please[/i]-"
She presses a kiss to his mouth and allows him to take her once again.
When they finish, she rolls off of him as he breathes heavily with exertion and bliss. She stands and, in her usual fashion, begins to leave. However, Thor reaches out and snatches her hand. She looks down at him, obviously startled. There is a moment, so brief that Thor thinks he could have imagined it, where she struggles to smooth the shock out of the soft planes of her face.
"Thank you, my maiden," he pants. A smile curls onto her lips, and he lets her hand drop to her side. In one fluid motion, she bends and pulls on her cloak before quietly departing from his chambers.
And so it goes.
Thor stares at his ceiling, feeling thoroughly drained. It's like he has been stripped of his soul. his life. His chest is empty. The only thing that fills him is a lingering yearning in the back of his mind.
He is pleased, of course, having been waiting for the Temptress for weeks. But he will still wait for her, time and time again.
__________
Loki releases his magic upon exiting Thor's bedroom. It takes him a breathless minute to regain his composure. Holding a flawless transformation for so long with such a distraction is not a simple task, and even as skilled as he has become at it, it takes a lot out of him. And of course, there is the matter of the little obsession spell he has cast sapping away at his attention and magic - a little thing, really, not warranting the deep desire his brother harbors; Thor has taken care of most of that himself, the lovable fool.
Making sure no one is around, Loki retreats to his chambers.
It is his greatest trick yet, if he can call it that. A trick usually has a reveal, where he can relish the reactions of those around him. But he cannot - [i]will[/i] not - even consider bringing this to the forefront of anyone's attention.
He wonders how his brother hasn't found him out yet, though. Does Thor not recognize the particular magical aura, one that is distinctly Loki's, emanating off his beloved Temptress? Does he not notice that the woman shares Loki's eyes (damned things, eyes are, so hard to change without making them look contrived) and that their hair is just the same shade? Even Loki's noises in bed are eerily similar to that of the Temptress', though he has no reason to think Thor would know of that.
He opens the door to his chambers. It has been another successful night for him. Another night of getting what he wants. He has proved himself to be the smarter of the two once more, at least to himself, and the both of them have benefited from his actions.
Loki smirks to himself as he drops his cloak. He will ponder the matter no further this night. Instead, he will celebrate another personal victory won. He finds it is well deserved.
His mind is plagued with thoughts of [i]her[/i]. Just exactly who [i]she[/i] is, however, is a mystery to him.
He calls her the Temptress. She refuses to tell him her name, and so he has given her some definitive title. And it is a fitting one, surely.
The first time she came to him, Thor had been so drunk on mead that his head swam, and he hadn't been sure if the beautiful woman entering his chambers was real or a cruel figment of his drunken imagination.
She had been real, though. Painfully so. She had taken Thor in her arms, pressed him to her bosom, and made him feel [i]wonderful[/i].
Her appearances to him come and go, happening often but with no identifiable pattern. It seems she enjoys Thor's suffering, enjoys his sleepless nights of yearning.
He can't remember what exactly transpired on the second time she came to him. He's lost count. Her appearances have been gracing him for little over half a year, but he feels as though this maiden has been visiting him like a specter in the night for ages. Thor doesn't want to think about what things had been like before her visits.
He wonders what it is about her that keeps him so on edge. She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Hair blacker than the midnight sky cascades down her back in loose, effortless curls. Her coy eyes glitter the color of emeralds but are far more spectacular. And her body... the swell of her breasts, her curving hips, her pale skin, and her all-around perfect figure drives Thor to the edge of madness each time he so much as thinks about it.
And yet he doesn't know who she is. Each time he asks, the Temptress silences him with a purred whisper and a graceful finger placed over his lips. He has no idea how she finds her way into his chambers and how she makes it past the guards. He has given up asking, only knowing that she sees him, and knowing that that is enough to please him.
She has an aura about her, something almost magical, that turns all of Thor's thoughts to her. He would do anything in his power to once more take his place between her thighs. [i]Anything.[/i]
When she takes her leave of him, the first days after are a walking nightmare for Thor. His head is a muddled mess, and it becomes obvious to everyone he's got something weighing on his mind. His mother presses her hand to the back of his head to check his temperature, Loki shoots him calculating glances from across the dinner table, and his friends take advantage of his lack of attention while sparring.
But alas, it is worth it for Thor. Worth every single second.
On this restless night, ever so quietly, Thor can hear the door open. He's turned over in a moment.
And there she is. His mysterious seductress of the night stands in the doorway. She looks as radiant as ever, wrapped in her fur cloak with her dark hair spilling so perfectly over her shoulders. She steps inside and closes the door.
"My lady," Thor murmurs as he stands from the bed. He offers her a bow and then his hand. "I am pleased you join me again."
She smiles at him and drops her cloak to the floor. Beneath it, she wears nothing, and Thor can feel the heat in his body rise as she steps toward him. Watching her approach him with such delicate, gliding steps is something that never fails to get him interested.
If there is one thing Thor likes about her personality, it's her insistence on getting straight to the point. She wraps her arms around his body and presses their lips together. Hers are soft, and once he tastes her, it's like he can't get enough. It becomes more and more difficult to contain himself with each swirl of her tongue.
He beds her without delay, not wanting to be too hasty, as he'd like to savor the moment, but wanting to get to that moment quickly.
Thor relishes the way she feels beneath him. He is weak in the hands of the fair maiden below him, completely unable to conduct himself like usual. He caresses her skin with care and presses his mouth to hers, wanting to have her sweet taste on his tongue until morning. And she is compliant, yet somehow completely in control of him.
"My temptress, I have nearly gone mad with desire for you," he tells her, and she runs her long fingers through his hair, as if to let him know that she understands and the sentiment is reciprocated.
He trails his kisses downward, to her breasts. Thor's hands travel across her milky, pale skin, and by the Norns, he is overwhelmed by her extreme beauty. It is just the beginning of their usual process. He makes love to her soon after, though he'd like to stay and relish the moment for all eternity. Their bodies become one with the ritual of skin-on-skin, sweat, and shared noises of pleasure.
But before he comes, when he announces that he's close, when he can feel the familiar pressure build at the base of his spine, she pushes him below her and forces their movements to cease. She perches atop Thor with no explanation and stares into his eyes. For a few long moments, he's captivated by the mesmerizing depth he sees there.
"I mean no disrespect," he gasps, breathless, still all too formal and polite, even in the heat of the moment. "But I cannot take much more of this."
Still, she doesn't move. She trails a silent finger down his chest, letting him know that she's looking for more. Another moment passes, and they cannot take it anymore.
He groans, finally; it is nearly impossible to read her thoughts and find what she's looking for. His head thrown back into the pillow, Thor begs, "Mistress, [i]please[/i]-"
She presses a kiss to his mouth and allows him to take her once again.
When they finish, she rolls off of him as he breathes heavily with exertion and bliss. She stands and, in her usual fashion, begins to leave. However, Thor reaches out and snatches her hand. She looks down at him, obviously startled. There is a moment, so brief that Thor thinks he could have imagined it, where she struggles to smooth the shock out of the soft planes of her face.
"Thank you, my maiden," he pants. A smile curls onto her lips, and he lets her hand drop to her side. In one fluid motion, she bends and pulls on her cloak before quietly departing from his chambers.
And so it goes.
Thor stares at his ceiling, feeling thoroughly drained. It's like he has been stripped of his soul. his life. His chest is empty. The only thing that fills him is a lingering yearning in the back of his mind.
He is pleased, of course, having been waiting for the Temptress for weeks. But he will still wait for her, time and time again.
__________
Loki releases his magic upon exiting Thor's bedroom. It takes him a breathless minute to regain his composure. Holding a flawless transformation for so long with such a distraction is not a simple task, and even as skilled as he has become at it, it takes a lot out of him. And of course, there is the matter of the little obsession spell he has cast sapping away at his attention and magic - a little thing, really, not warranting the deep desire his brother harbors; Thor has taken care of most of that himself, the lovable fool.
Making sure no one is around, Loki retreats to his chambers.
It is his greatest trick yet, if he can call it that. A trick usually has a reveal, where he can relish the reactions of those around him. But he cannot - [i]will[/i] not - even consider bringing this to the forefront of anyone's attention.
He wonders how his brother hasn't found him out yet, though. Does Thor not recognize the particular magical aura, one that is distinctly Loki's, emanating off his beloved Temptress? Does he not notice that the woman shares Loki's eyes (damned things, eyes are, so hard to change without making them look contrived) and that their hair is just the same shade? Even Loki's noises in bed are eerily similar to that of the Temptress', though he has no reason to think Thor would know of that.
He opens the door to his chambers. It has been another successful night for him. Another night of getting what he wants. He has proved himself to be the smarter of the two once more, at least to himself, and the both of them have benefited from his actions.
Loki smirks to himself as he drops his cloak. He will ponder the matter no further this night. Instead, he will celebrate another personal victory won. He finds it is well deserved.
12/31/12