Blindfolds and Boldness

Aralia hears the door close behind Loki and bursts into tears. He left her! He just up and left her alone sitting her own blood. She has no idea where her dress is and even if she did she wouldn’t be able to wear it because it is filthy. Did she do something wrong? He smelled loving, but he doesn’t act loving. She had been wrong. She laid there for a while, sobbing until her face was completely red, throat dry. She needed a drink of water. She needed to get up out of her own pool of fluids on the bed. She goes to the bathroom and washes herself thoroughly, scrubbing just a little too hard in some places. She feels the soreness between her legs and bursts into tears again. Is it going to be like this all the time from now on? Is Prince Loki no better than the drunkards from her neighborhood? Her life might be privileged going forward, but also filled with abuse and neglect. It became clear to Aralia in this moment that she was going to have to take care of herself. She wraps herself in a towel and goes back into the bedroom. She notices a couple of doors in the bedroom and opens them. The first is a linen closet. Good, she can fix the bed situation in a moment. The second door opened up to Loki’s vast personal wardrobe. She searched through the drawers until she found some linen trouser shorts (aka Asgardian underwear) and a linen undershirt. The shirt was big and baggy on her especially in the shoulders, while the trousers were a little too snug in her hips. She goes back to the bed and pulls the blood soaked sheet from it. The stain had soaked through to the mattress. Damn! Now she has to wait for a servant to come and clean it, which means yet another stranger she does not know will see her shame. More embarrassment.
Thor and Odin return to the palace throne room. After all the excitement in the arena this morning the throne room seems calm by comparison. But even now there is buzz and excitement in the air. Gossip spreads quickly of Loki disappearing with the Omega, and the sound of a woman shouting his name not an hour later loud enough for everyone in Asgard to hear. Frigga spots them and all but runs up to Odin, barely containing her excitement. “Is it true?! Did Loki claim an Omega?” “Yes, my queen.” Says Odin. “I heard a woman cry out his name from his bedchamber not 20 minutes ago. Do we know who she is? I’ve been hearing the same story over and over again from various members of the court about her behavior, and yours. Is it true you let her choose?” “Yes my wife it is true. Under the odd circumstances I thought it best; the entire Asgardian Army almost destroyed itself today fighting over her.”
Loki comes marching around the corner, his face seemingly impassive to everyone, except his mother. Frigga’s turned head catches the eye of Thor and Odin and they turn to see Loki approaching them. He just claimed an omega. He should be ecstatic. He should at least have post-coatis after glow. Instead he looks like he is trying to hide that he is upset, not that Thor or Odin were ever very good at picking up on subtlety. “Loki!” bellows Thor and Odin. “Is it done? Is she yours?”
“Yes.” Loki replies shortly. Thor and Odin both cheer and throw big arms and broad shoulders around Loki, giving his whole body a congratulatory shake. Loki plasters a fake smile on his face. Frigga eyes him wearily, and Loki notices. Thor and Odin both start to go into a diatribe about how happy Loki will be and about all the children he will be blessed with, followed by endless questions of ‘how was she’ ‘are her eyes as pretty as the rest of her’ and so on. “Father, Thor, if you don’t mind I’d like to speak with mother alone for a moment. I have some questions of a feminine nature and need her insight.” Thor and Odin’s eyebrows perk up at this but both smile broadly and leave Loki to speak with Frigga.
“What is wrong?” Loki stares at his mother for a moment not sure how to answer her question. “Nothing. Nothing, I just….” His eyes dart downward towards his shoes. “Where is your Omega? Why are you not with her?” “She’s in my room.” He answers slowly. “Alone!? You just finished making love to her not 5 minutes ago. How could you leave her like that her in current state? She is frightened and in pain, and you abandoned her in her moment of need. Did you at least see to her basic comforts?” “I… I needed a moment to breathe. I needed to ask you about…about the heat.” Frigga’s eyebrow furrows at this, confused. “What is it you want to know?” “I know the heat is when Omega’s are most fertile, but does it take only one rutting or multiple attempts to ensure pregnancy?” Frigga feels a heat of her own welling up inside her. It is anger towards her own son. She knows that he is asking this, not because he wants to ensure that a child has been created, but because he is hoping one has not. “Was she a virgin?” Loki’s eyes go wide, before he has a moment to pull the mask over his face and lie to his mother, she sees it. “LOKI! You will NOT deflower that poor girl and then leave her unclaimed for another. You march back to your bedchambers this instant and finish making love to her!” “We did NOT make love-mother, we rutted like beasts. She is total stranger to me.” “Who is she?” asks Frigga. Loki’s face freezes and there is another long uncomfortable silence. “YOU DIDN’T EVEN ASK HER NAME?! I have never been so ashamed to call you my son. You WILL return to your bedchamber. You WILL finish claiming her, and you WILL see to her needs. Is that understood?” Loki is stunned. In all his life he has never seen his mother this angry with him over anything before. Anything. Frigga grabs his arm roughly and starts escorting Loki back to his room. It occurs to Loki that his mother is an Omega and he is an Alpha, and she is ordering him around. He thinks for a moment to call her on it, but as he turns to look at her face, he falters. Pulling the Alpha card on his own mother would cause irreparable harm to his relationship with her. Plus, she would simply retaliate by taking this matter to her Alpha husband the King. Then Loki would get the earful from him. Best to let it go.
They reach his bedchamber and enter together. Frigga’s eyes go wide with shock and shame. Loki’s Omega is curled up in a ball in an armchair. She is sweating profusely, in the throes of the second wave of her heat. She looks like she may even have a fever. She is also wearing clothes that clearly came from Loki’s closet. The sheets have been pulled from the bed but have not been replaced. The stain in the mattress glaring red stokes Frigga’s anger. He didn’t even send a servant to help her. He left her unclean, unclothed, and unfed in the middle of her heat. This is neglect and it will not stand. “Pick her up!” She snaps at Loki. “Follow me. The two of you will spend tonight, and most likely the next several nights in one of the guest rooms while I have your bed cleaned. I’ll be sending servants to your new quarters with food and water, as well as some healing salves for your Omega. She will need them.” Loki simply nods and says nothing, too ashamed of his conduct. He looks down at the stunning beauty in his arms and is consumed with guilt, an emotion not familiar to him. Just as promised Frigga barks orders at servants in the hallway and they scurry away to get the items needed. They enter the new room and Loki lays Aralia down on the bed. Her cheeks are flush and she is still sweating. Her scent is pungent again and fills Loki’s nostrils, stirring his desire. She senses Loki’s presence and starts moaning his name. Loki feels himself going hard but tries to think of others things. His mother is still in the room. A couple moments later several servants rush into the room carrying trays filled with food, several pitchers of drink, boxes filled with various healing salves, ointments, and lubricants, as well as a nightgown and dressing robe for the girl. Everything is set down quickly and the servants leave just as quickly as they enter. Frigga stands and regards her son. “You do this, and you do this right. You will be the laughing stock of all the nine if you fail. You will not discard her like a cheap harlot. She is a precious and rare commodity, count yourself lucky.” With that Frigga leaves the room, closing the doors behind her.
Loki looks down at Aralia’s limp body. She seems almost asleep, murmuring his name in her daze. Her eyes are closed. Another wave of guilt overcomes him. What was he thinking? Loki has always considered himself a generous and considerate lover, even when he is rough and dominating. His mother was right to be angry, though he is loathed to admit it. This girl, whoever she is, she chose him. She chose Loki over Thor. She chose Loki over practically every other Alpha in Asgard. All the years of being ignored by females had hardened Loki’s heart. There had been omega’s that had gone into heat in the palace. Each of them trying desperately to get Thor’s attention, hoping he would fight to claim them. Thor has refused each and every one of them, and not one of them had turned a beseeching eye to Loki. He was the forgotten Prince. Even if any of them had, Loki would have turned them down anyway. Loki has too much pride to be anyone’s second choice. So why did he run from this girl?
Loki has a moment of clarity about himself. He is being ridiculous. He has been jealous of Thor for years. His reasons for jealousy are many, but in this specific instance his jealousy of the wide array of women at Thor’s beck and call that have never given Loki any consideration. Now the beautiful, graceful, elegant creature laid out before him rejected Thor in front of the entire kingdom in preference for Loki. He realizes what she represents. She is a new form of commitment and responsibility. He is purposefully creating a child with a woman whom he knows nothing about. What if he does not like her? Subjugated to him, though she maybe, he will still have to sleep with her in his bed every night. She has to sleep in his bed with him. It’s the law. No wonder Thor has refused to claim so many omegas. Thor possessed the strength of restraint that Loki did not, and now he is responsible for this girl.
Loki sits on the edge of the bed and leans over Aralia. With a wave of his hand she is once again naked before him, and he before her. Her breasts are plump, perky, and perfect. Her nipples are small, the color of pencil erasers. But the expression of agonizing aching need etched into her face calls Loki to action. He mounts her quickly, rocking in and out of her slowly at first. She is so deep in her fever now, she is nearly unconscious. Loki almost thought her asleep until she started murmuring his name again as he pumped in and out of her. He quickens the pace knowing her fever will not break until she finds her release. Loki finds himself struggling to hold back his orgasm; her womb is so tight, so hot, so slick. He finds himself wishing to utter her name. If only he’d had the presence of mind to ask her earlier. “Oh my angel, oh gods….” Loki pants, breathless, almost whimpering as he goes. He nuzzles his head in the crook of her neck, drinking in her scent. The faster Loki sets his pace the more aware Aralia becomes. She opens her eyes, her mind still in a fog. Loki is on top of her, rutting her. “Prince Loki”, she whispers. Loki meets her gaze. Aralia becomes aware of all the sensations of her body. The deep pungent scent of her lover, the movements taking place in her secret place, the sweatiness of her body, and a deep deep hunger within her body for his seed. “What’s your name?” he murmurs in her ear, not slowing his movements. “Aralia.” She says softly. “Aralia.” He repeats. Her name is like honey wine on his lips. Loki starts babbling her name over and over again. Aralia feels the tension building inside her. Loki’s member starts to swell large within her, stretching full. “Ahhhahh, Loki!” She cries out as the pain and pleasure overwhelms her. “Say my name!” “Loki!” “Say my name!” “Loki!” “SAY MY NAME!” “LOKKKIIII!” With that Aralia’s womb shudders around Loki’s hardness, and Loki’s knot gushes forth all that he has to give.
Loki falls limp on top of her. His head nuzzled into the crook of her neck again, kissing the soft skin at the nape. Aralia is exhausted, yet alert. Her mind starts to clear and she remembers where she is and whom she is with. Well, where she was. This room is different, smaller, but still luxurious. She is naked.... again, and the pain! The soreness between her legs is screaming! Aralia feels suffocated and starts shoving at Loki to get him off. Loki rolls off her, his brow furrowed. She sits up in bed, her palm on Loki’s chest, steadying herself. She takes several deep breaths, filling her lung with much needed air. She needs to use the bathroom. “Where are you going?” He asks. Aralia stands up from the bed, but barely takes a step before hunching over slightly, her hands between her legs. “Lay back down.” Loki commands. It’s the Alpha tone she hears. She hears it for the first time as an omega, feeling compelled to obey. She does so, but begins protesting. “It hurts.” She whimpers. Loki’s face softens. Poor thing, he has ridden her raw. Loki gets up and goes over to the table where all the food and supplies are laid out. He picks up a blue jar of cream and walks back to the bed.
“Spread your legs.” He commands. Aralia’s face turns beat red with embarrassment. Again she feels compelled to obey. Slowly she opens her knees, propping herself up on her elbows to watch the prince’s movements. “Wider.” He commands. Loki takes the lid off the jar and uses two fingers to scoop out a good amount of the salve. He scoots close and kneels between her legs. She is glorious to behold. The pale milky skin of her thighs merges with the pink then red skin of her inner folds at her center. Her entrance is neatly groomed, though sticky with fluids. Her very core, however, is a deep angry agitated red, and is swollen. Placing one hand on one of her knees to keep her legs parted Loki takes the two fingers coated with salve and gently presses them into her sore burning rosebud. Leaning his body into hers as he does this, he gazes deeply into her eyes as his fingers penetrate, explore, and sooth her aching flesh. She flinches at first, pain slowly giving way to a cool, numbing, soothing sensation. But the smoldering gaze of Loki, dripping with desire, makes her insides quiver. Involuntarily, Aralia’s entrance contracts around Loki’s fingers and she arches her hips downward to invite his fingers deeper inside her body. Loki pulls away, and takes the jar back to the table. He is still naked, and Aralia takes the moment to admire what a beautiful firm ass her new Alpha has. Gods he is gorgeous. Though appearing slim when fully clothed and covered in armor, he is actually quite built. He is lean and has a smaller frame than the typical Asgardian male, but he is by no means soft. Loki turns around. Aralia cannot hide her gaze and she skims down his body to see his manhood. By the gods, that was just inside her? How did it ever fit? No wonder she is in so much pain.
Aralia remembers herself and slowly lifts her gaze back to Loki’s face which is displaying an arrogant and prideful smirk. “Why did you leave me like that?” Her voice suddenly angry, surprising Loki and herself. The smirk disappears from Loki’s face and he walks to the bed and crawls under the covers, as though he were suddenly ashamed of his form. No not his body, his actions. “Forgive my actions earlier, my lady; I should not have left you so unattended. It was rude of me.” “But why did you do it? What did I do to make you leave like that? Were you angry with me? Were you disappointed with me?” Hurt replaces the anger in her eyes and Loki can see the tears forming in them. He pulls her into his embrace stroking her hair. “You did nothing wrong my angel. The fault is mine. I became overwhelmed with my new responsibility in you. I confess I was not prepared for the reality of being bonded to another. You are going to be the mother of my children, and I know nothing about you.”
Aralia is surprised by this confession. People always talk about how traumatic the claiming is for the omega. No one ever talks about what the claiming is like for the Alpha, aside from the bragging about copious amounts of sex. While serving tables at her family’s tavern, those few alphas lucky enough to claim an omega would come in bragging about their new toy, cheering, getting drunk. They would share intimate details with the other alphas, and sometimes even bring their new omegas to the tavern to display, commanding them to kneel at their feet like dogs waiting for table scraps. His earlier actions appeared so callous, unconcerned, and cold when he was in fact feeling quite the opposite.
“May I ask my lady, why did you choose me? I know you could neither see nor hear me. What about my scent stood out among all the others?” Loki takes his finger and thumb under her chin to tip her head upward to look into his eyes. “You smelled loving.” A stab of shame pierces Loki’s heart once more, recalling his actions earlier. “I will never neglect you again Aralia, you have my word.” He bends his head down and covers her lips with his. Gently he presses his tongue to gain entry and she reciprocates his action, tasting him. They pull out of the kiss and she looks up at him and smiles.
Loki looks upon her, feeling a warmth inside himself he has never known before. A happy thought comes to him. “May I ask my lady, what did Thor smell like to repulse you so?” “Which one was Prince Thor, my lord?” “The one you sniffed before finding me.” He says. “THAT was Prince Thor!? He smells disgusting! Like garlic, stale mead, and dirty feet.” Loki roars with laughter at this. Never has anyone described his brother in such a way.
Gently he leans them back into the bed pulling her close, keeping her head resting on his chest. Aralia starts to notice that her nether region is feeling better. The soreness is gone and she feels less swollen. Contented and exhausted they drift off to sleep in each other’s arms. They do not emerge from the room for 3 days.

Notes