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Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
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You have managed to stumble upon Loki's biggest fan's profile. Stay a while. Have a read and maybe even look at the pictures!…

Started writing about him July 2014. I also make amateur attempts at photomanipulation whenever I need a preview picture for my stories or make memes if I get a bit bored :)

Love to hear from people, so feel free to comment :)

Loki's my favourite, whether Nordic myth, Marvel mischief or Disney misunderstood-betrayed-Prince-arch-villain. I love every incarnation. I have to admit a certain interest in the career of his mortal actor, too ;)


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The faint blush of the Asgardian pre-dawn began to wash the horizon in preparation for the arrival of the Asgardian Sun, and was heralded by the crow of an Asgardian Cockerel waking those who lived nearby with its call. All over the city those who baked the day’s fresh bread and those who served the great noble houses and the Palace rose from their beds to start a new day. Fires were lit to drive off the chill of the night and slowly the shining Realm Eternal began to awaken.


The charming soft chimes of her timepiece roused Erika from her slumber and she lay in her bed for a few moments as she became fully awake, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and stretching out the stiffness of the night from her limbs. Sitting up, the first thing she saw was her riding outfit hanging ready for the day’s Royal Hunt. The second thing she saw was her packed bag. A sinking feeling went through her as she remembered the decision she had made the day before; tonight she would leave Loki and her life here in the Palace behind. Erika rose from her bed and drew back the heavy drapes at her window just in time to see the very first sliver of the glowing hot disc of the Asgardian Sun appear over the distant horizon, which from her window was formed by the edges of the turbulent waters of Asgard flowing interminably over the edge of the realm and down into the Abyss. The Abyss. The place which was a place in between worlds and in which Loki had suffered at the hands of the Titan Thanos. A cruel corruption and twisting of the last vestiges of the former Prince of Asgard into the bitter and vengeful God he was now.


Loki’s maid angrily brushed away an errant tear which was trying to trickle down her cheek as she remembered his dreadful account of all that he had suffered there. There was nothing to be done about it now. Many people had tried to help him and had failed and she was just the latest on the list. Erika quickly got ready for duty, dressing in the elegant black velvet riding outfit which was trimmed in deep green and had golden buttons with emblems of Loki’s crests on them, just as his maid should wear. She wove black and green ribbons into her newly cut hair to keep it tidy for when she put on her hat later, and took a final look at herself in the mirror.


This is the last thing you will wear as Loki’s maid, she thought and was surprised to find that it did not upset her that much. She had clearly made the right choice and it really was time to move on. Smoothing the nicely cut black jodhpurs she was wearing, Erika went to awaken her King for the last time.




In a small house on the outskirts of Asgard, another young servant awoke to the Asgardian dawn, but she leapt out of her bed in excitement. Sæunn quickly washed and dressed in the riding trousers her cousin had lent her, along with a reasonably smart jacket and some sturdy boots. She braided her hair back and thundered down the stairs into the small kitchen, where her mother was just putting a large blackened kettle over the fire to boil.


“Hold your horses!” She laughed, “There is plenty of time before you have to be at the Palace!” The plump Asgardian went over to her daughter, who was positively bursting with anticipation of her day, and kissed her on the forehead. “Take a little bread with me this fine morning before you go.”

“Very well, Móðir, but I did say I would attend the breakfast. Erika is expecting me…”

“Is that your new friend at the Palace?”

“Yes!” Sæunn watched as her mother prepared a few slices of bread and a log of the local tangy goat’s cheese. “She is the King’s maid and that is why I am going along with them today. Oh, Móðir I am so excited!”

“I can tell! There you go, dear.”


Sæunn and her mother ate for a few minutes, but she fidgeted so much that finally her mother said,


“Go! Go Sæunn! I can see you are eager to be on your way.”

“Oh Móðir I am!” The young Spa attendant jumped up from the tiny kitchen table and went to give her mother a hug. “I love you, Móðir. If you had not supported me, then I would never have been able to work at the Palace and I would never have met Erika and I…”

“Yes, I know darling. We are so proud of you. Now, have a wonderful day and I expect you to tell me all about it when you get back. I love you.”

“I love you too, Móðir!” Sæunn grinned and hurried to the door to leave for the Palace. “See you later!” she laughed, and she was gone, leaving her mother smiling happily as she started with the day’s chores.




Hel stood patiently while Fulla laced up the tightly boned bodice, pondering upon her father’s return to his suite last night. It had not been especially late, he had looked decidedly unruffled and he had been alone. Had he actually spent any more time with that designer or had he simply escorted her back to her room and then perhaps taken an evening stroll around the Palace Gardens or something? When he had paused momentarily in his approach to his rooms, she had quickly stepped back from her own door, where she had been looking through a keyhole to try to see what he had been doing – had he sensed her? Hel grinned to herself: did she really care? If he had a problem with the level of interest she had in his life, then all he had to do was tell her. He should be flattered that his daughter was so bothered about him!


“Ow!” She winced as Fulla pulled a little hard on one of the laces.

“I apologise, Hel. The structure is a bit more complicated in order to accommodate your dead side and I am having trouble fastening it.”

“Do not worry Fulla. I understand and… do not worry about any feeling on that side as I do not have any. Just be careful wherever you can see blue skin!”


Over the time she had been here and had been attended by her father’s former nanny, they had relaxed into an easy relationship. Fulla was matter-of-fact about the problems Hel's physique presented without being mean or embarrassed and Hel liked it that way. It meant they could discuss ways to get around it and make her look her absolute best as a Princess of Asgard and made her feel less of an outsider. But Fulla was very old and although she was polite and friendly, she was not quite on the same level as Hel. Certainly not in the same way as someone like Erika would be.


“Yes, my Lady. Now, that is very tightly laced. It is a strong corset and should minimise any injury should you be thrown from your horse for any reason.”


Hel looked at herself in the long mirror and twisted from side to side to see what it looked like. She was impressed. Her lack of flesh and skin on half of her torso meant that she could potentially sustain nasty injuries through things getting lodged in her exposed skeleton, so the Palace dressmakers had designed a corset which copied the shape of a woman’s body on that side and hid nearly all of her, including her hips, ribs and chest. It was articulated at critical points, allowing her to move freely, but nearly all of her exposed bones were hidden beneath it.


“Perfect!” She said, smiling brightly. “Now, let me don my riding clothes. I am famished and I wish to take breakfast with T… everyone.”


Fulla hid the small grin which appeared on her face. It was nice to see that Hel was making friends and acquaintances whilst here at the Palace. She remembered all too well the day Odin had cast out her sister’s grand daughter and how devastating it had been to all – well, nearly all – of those involved. Despite the fact that Hel was not here at the invitation of the All Father, Fulla still held affection for the woman she remembered as a vulnerable little girl and she was quite content to attend her while she was here.


“Yes, my Lady. Now, I seem to remember that you settled on the midnight blue velvet outfit….”




In the much larger King’s suite, Loki’s maid had ensured that his riding clothes were ready for him to get into, had made his morning cup of tea in his favourite cup and had just swept open the drapes surrounding his bed to let in the morning sun. She watched as the stark naked King raised a lazy arm up to cover his eyes and listened impatiently as he groaned and then rolled onto his side to bury his face in one of the three pillows she had arranged there for him the day before. Not in any mood to pamper to this behaviour, she walked away from the bed and drew the window drapes open wider, brightening the room even further.


“It is time for you to rise, Your Highness. It is the day of the Hunt and you are to attend the breakfast in the Great Hall.”


She went over to the very large wardrobe and opened one of the spacious drawers she rarely looked in. This held an assortment of his alternative headwear, some of which she had never seen him in. There were a few older battleworn horned helmets of slightly different designs to his current one, some golden circlets with much smaller versions of the famous horns on and then there was the one she was after: his riding helmet. It was not quite the same as his usual one, being a little smaller and with much reduced side panels. The horns were much smaller, although no less curvaceous and pointed, but there were other crests on the golden metal. Images of Sleipnir galloping at high speed and of Fenrir in hot pursuit were depicted on each side. Jormungandr weaved about the neck plate and Hel was staring out of the back of it at anyone who chose to ride right behind their King. As she lifted it from the velvet-lined space it was kept in, a shadow fell over her and she stood up to face Loki’s bare chest, since he was standing right beside her. For the tiniest of moments, her eyes focussed on the thin smattering of fine black hairs on the pale skin and she felt an overwhelming temptation to reach out to touch them, but she shook herself and turned away to place the helmet on the top of the stand holding his riding clothes.


“Good morning Erika.” Loki’s voice was hesitant, as if he was not quite sure what mood he would find her in this morning, yet he did not move away from her, clearly expecting a response from her.

“Good morning, Your Highness.”


In that, he had his answer. Erika’s habit of defaulting to formal address when she was unhappy, scared or angry was a clear indication that she had a problem with him after what had happened and wanted that professional wall between them as part of her defence against any kind of emotional response she might be in danger of having should he try to talk to her about it. He decided to allow her some space as he did not want to spoil the day by an early morning argument and he made his way to the bathroom to carry out his ablutions.


Erika watched him go and breathed a sigh of relief; he had even conjured a robe around himself so as not to assault her senses with his naked form. Was he actually being considerate of her feelings now? Now, when it was far too late? She sighed and steeled herself. She would be leaving tonight and that was that.


When Loki returned from the bathroom, she made some small talk about the clothes he was wearing and brought the long mirror for him to look in once she had got him ready. He was wearing well tailored black riding pants with criss-crossed strips of leather – some plain black and some embossed with tiny horseshoes. They encased his long legs down to the sturdy black leather riding boots which came up to just under his knees. His riding shirt was of a deep green and a gold cravat was tied smartly at his neck. Erika was behind him and she brushed tiny specks of fluff from the very elegantly tailored black velvet riding jacket which hugged his lean figure in a very flattering way.


“Do you want me to braid your hair, Your Highness?”


Loki eyed himself critically and decided his hair would be just fine held under his helmet.


“No thank you Erika. I believe I am ready?” He turned to look at her riding clothes and smiled warmly as he reached down and linked his arm with hers, suddenly melting her heart. “I think we match perfectly, don’t you?”




The burning disc of the Asgardian Sun rose higher in the crisp blue morning sky and there was not a cloud to be seen which may have spoiled the day of the Hunt. Slowly but surely, its golden rays travelled down the Great Mountain of Asgard, bathing it in a warm glow and lending deeper hues to the autumnal colours which clothed the lower slopes and foothills where the trees were turning with the season. While the guests were arriving in the Great Hall back at the Palace to take breakfast and discuss the day’s various events, the ruling realm became alive with its almost ethereal glow which was revered as many Midgardian mortals as being only worthy of the home of the Gods.


Sparkling crystal clear water tumbled over the edge of the beautiful waterfall in the clearing which was destined to be the site of the day’s festivities and a rainbow appeared in the mist thrown up where the tumbling icy water hit rocks on the way down and splashed up into the air. The frost which had coated the cliff face to each side of the cascade began to melt under the warmth of the sun and the verdant green of the grass which coated the banks and the hillocks formed over time began to appear. It looked almost magical with the leaves on the trees still sparkling here and there with frozen droplets of water and the first of the servants arrived to get the fire going in the large pit ready to cook the wild boar they had been hanging for some time. Others busied themselves with setting out markers and straw targets in the tourney areas and it soon became a hive of activity.


Although anyone invited to the occasion could go along with the Royal Hunt, quite a few had declined for various reasons and provision was also being made for those who had chosen to stay here and watch the entertainments or even just to socialise. A large white marquee was being erected about ten feet to one side of the waterfall near the cliff face where it was well out of the way of the busy cooking areas, tourney arenas and horse pickets. Inside it was made comfortable with plenty of rugs on the floors, braziers with hot coals for warmth and lots of informal seating where people could gather with their friends and acquaintances. There had been a bit of a problem with the chosen site – as decided upon by one of Seneschal’s team – and the workers who were responsible for erecting it had complained at some length as to the difficulty in putting it right. However, the location was already almost finished and there was no time to relocate the marquee without great disruption and delay, so they simply put down lots of large oilskins to stop the very wet ground becoming muddy. It would not do to have clothing of the elite becoming wet and stained from what should have been the driest and warmest place available.


It took no small amount of effort, but the workers were being constantly shouted at to get the marquee ready and they hurriedly drove pegs into ground which was soggy, hoping that they would not move and cause the guy ropes – and the tent itself – to collapse. And as the last of them threw an off cut of oil skin onto the bottom of the large grassy slope they had erected the marquee right in front of, no one noticed the water starting to pool around the metal moorings.




The official breakfast for the Hunt was a whirlwind of activity and the various waiters, chefs and pot boys were run off their feet as they ensured all the guests had as pleasant an experience as possible. For those who were on the lookout, however, all was certainly not well with various people and not all of them were making much of an effort to hide it.


Loki had arrived with his maid on his arm and had instantly attracted a lot of surprised attention from the Gods and nobles who had seen him here in the Great Hall the previous night. Why had he arrived with his serving companion and not the beautiful Palace Designer? His display of being interested solely in her company the night before and of leaving with her to go to her rooms was surely an indication that he was considering making an announcement of some kind regarding their very obvious, if unofficial, relationship. There was not much which got past the Palace gossips and it had been a rumour for some time, so why had he brought Erika, of all people, to this breakfast? However, the King seemed oblivious to any increased observation from those around him and Erika took her place as his personal server anyway.


The next intriguing thing was the arrival of Hel on Tyr’s arm, looking exceptionally like the perfect Royal Couple. Loki’s daughter was in a stunning dark blue velvet ladies’ riding outfit and not even the dead half of her face could detract from the regal aura she gave off. The radiant smile on the living half of her face lent her enough beauty to more than make up for her disfiguration and it was clear that she had arrived with someone she thought was very special: Tyr, the handsome God Of Justice. He was wearing armoured riding gear and looked every inch the gallant warrior. He turned more than a few heads as he escorted the Princess of Asgard up to the High Table and took a seat with their King. Loki’s face was an impenetrable mask, but if anyone had cared to look properly at his eyes, they would have seen the green storms raging there in reaction to just how friendly and close a manner Tyr was treating Hel with.


As more people arrived and took their seats at the various tables around the room, it became clear that the elite warriors of Asgard had decided to attend the occasion, probably more for the tourneys than for the Hunt itself, and many of them were accompanied by ladies who were very good looking and very loud and flirtatious into the bargain. Njörðr looked on from one of the side tables satisfactorily. As the handsome fighting men and their beautiful companions began to grow louder and exhibit very familiar behaviour for breakfast time, he could see that Loki was growing more and more agitated. Like it or not, he was quite a self assured and vain God when it came to being around women and not one single one was giving him any kind of attention, even to greet him properly as their King.


Loki stewed inwardly; damn Hel for encouraging Seneschal in his ridiculous ideas! He motioned to Erika impatiently.

“Bring me a goblet of hot mead, Erika. I am already feeling the chill of the day.”

His maid looked at him quizzically, but upon seeing a dangerous glint in his eye, she decided not to question him in his request for an alcoholic drink first thing in the morning. She went to the large tureen set in the hearth of one of the huge fires and ladled a generous amount out for him, but she also collected a plate of food to go with it in the hope that he would have something to eat too.


“Thank you.” The words were said in a short manner and she watched as he drained his goblet swiftly. Realising there would be no opportunity to quietly try to discourage his behaviour, she picked up the goblet before he could ask and went back to the tureen which held the foamy drink, but she stretched out the amount of time it took her for as long as she could without risking his wrath. This day – her last here on Asgard as the King’s maid – was going to be a long one.




On Jotúnnheimr, one of the larger males woke from his sleep and saw the faint light creeping in around the edges of the tent flaps. He rose and threw his furred cloak around his shoulders before exiting his tent to go to relieve himself at a convenient tree, but he checked his stride as he glanced over towards where the fire had been the night before; the centre of a lot of discussion amongst the Clan Chiefs. The fire was still alight – just – with thin tendrils of smoke and steam rising here and there to join the early morning mist which was rising from the ground in the early sunlight. He looked up in surprise for the sun very rarely made an appearance these days, yet it seemed that there was scant cloud cover this morning and the distant grey-white disc was just about visible. He looked back to the fire and a figure appeared as a breeze blew away some of the mist which was there. He squinted, narrowing his crimson eyes as he tried to discern the identity of the figure and then grunted in realisation. It was Angrboda.


High Chieftain Angrboda, he corrected himself. The talk last night had gone on for hours, often peppered with shouting and disagreement, but one thing had been clear; the fact that Angrboda had managed to unite some of the most acrimonious clans over recent times had stood her in good stead for leadership of all the Jotúnns. Not one of the other chiefs had managed to come close in their attempts at showing their qualifications for the role and many of them were greatly disliked amongst opposing clans anyway. During the often heated debate, she had frequently interjected and calmed everyone down, voicing sensible and mostly agreeable solutions and ideas to their plight and it had all culminated in one thing. Angrboda was elevated to the position of the High Chieftain and when Loki’s envoys arrived with the Casket Of Ancient Winters, she would pledge allegiance to the Trickster for its return.




Njörðr sat at one of the lower tables reserved for the Gods. He had never been considered a true Aesir, being a hostage of a kind sent by the Vanir, and so to sit at a lower table was not uncommon for him. From there he observed the behaviour of those around him and smiled inwardly; the King was also observing the guests from up on the High Table and his face was displaying a measure of irritation at being largely ignored by them. A few words in the right ears, along with a bit of coin, had gone a long way in carrying out what had been termed “A harmless prank on the King” and he was pleased with the result. Anything which would make this day unpleasant in some way for the Trickster would add credence to the idea that being the ruler of Asgard was not necessarily all it might appear. Perhaps suggestions made by the right people and more burdens upon his shoulders would lead Loki to tire of his position and even be persuaded to give it up.


The breakfast passed fairly quickly as the servants bustled about efficiently, bringing food and drink and removing empty crockery and goblets. A herald arrived after about an hour and sounded a horn which silenced the general chatter enough for him to announce the departure for the Royal Hunt and Tourneys. A flurry of activity immediately followed as the celebrants rose to go to their various modes of transport, be it carriages, open traps or horseback.


In amongst this almost heaving mass of people, there was one who remained still to watch it all happen. He watched Hel positively glowing as Tyr took her arm and led her at the head of the exodus from the Great Hall, as befitted a Prince and Princess of Asgard, he watched noted warriors of the realm do the same with their many beautiful female companions – and some female warriors accepting the arms of theirs too. There were happy smiles all round as they anticipated the day's festivities, but they failed to infect their King, who was all but forgotten in the rush to begin the short journey to the waterfall.


Erika was mortified. Had all sense of propriety suddenly vanished? On a day like this, it should be the King who would quieten his guests and announce the departure, not a herald! It should be the Ruler of Asgard who led the party from the Palace to their destination, not his direct competition for the title of King, nor even his daughter. She stared at Loki as he watched everyone piling out of the huge doors with a sinking feeling; the very fact that he had not leapt to his feet to question what was happening was very worrying to her and she could feel his anger radiating off him in waves of tension. He sat looking at the doors for long moments after the last guest had disappeared, chewing on a fingernail at the end of a long pale finger, as if contemplating their fate, but then he sighed loudly, making Erika jump, and rose from the Throne slowly, straightening his tailored riding jacket and turning to her to smile tightly. He approached her and she did not quite know what to do; was he angry? Was he going to have a fit of temper at her? She stiffened as he reached out and gently gripped her arm, pulling her towards him.


“If you would allow me, Erika?” He said in a falsely happy voice and she felt a wave of nausea as the Great Hall disappeared from around them.


States Of A God's Heart Ch92: The Breakfast Club
The morning of the Hunt and the Harvest Celebration dawns. Those poor servants really are over worked on grand occasions such as these - is it any wonder things get over-looked?

This is the Ninety second part of the sequel to To Tame A God
Previous Chapter: States Of A God's Heart Ch91 The Spirit is Willing
Next Chapter: 
  • Listening to: In Isolation
  • Reading: Fan Fic
  • Watching: Assassin's Creed 3D
  • Playing: Final Fantasy XV
  • Eating: Christmas leftovers
  • Drinking: Prosecco
Happy New Year to everyone out there in Deviant land!
Wow - another fresh start and with already so much to look forward to before the year has really got going :)

Today I saw Assassin's Creed and what an action-packed adventure it was. I don't know how hard-core fans will receive it, but I enjoyed it and I hope they will be making more because the characters were well-developed (not just physically!) and ready for the story tellers to let us know what happens next, which is all anyone wants from a story, really. Enough interest and enough truth for us to want to continue to follow the events which unfold from the author's imagination.

Which is a decent enough segue for me to get to what I really want to say.

Thank you for continuing to look at and to read my head noodles. I know I'm not a massive blogger or popular artist of any kind, but to those of you who are popping in to catch my updates, or even just to have a look to see what I'm all about I'd like to say hi and thanks for the 100K views! I'm just an ordinary gal who loves to watch the success of our bright young (and older) things and if I can entertain you while you're visiting, then all the better!

I wish everyone peace and happiness in this New Year of ours and may Thor:Ragnarok be everything you want it to be. Which for me is to see Loki bash the living sh*t out of everyone and then sit back to sip from a glass of a nice Chianti (hold up - isn't that from another film?!). An Army Of Me GTFO 

Laterz, #Loki fans
The Magic Within
This is my New Year's gift to everyone who has ever clicked to see what I am all about. May 2017 be a wonderful year for you!

I was fortunate enough this time last year to become the proud owner of a portrait of Loki as painted by my daughter. This is only a tiny portion of that portrait, which was done in acrylic on canvas. I have photographed it, smoothed out the canvas markings on his face quite a lot, added more eyebrow and lashes for definition and I have completely "repainted" the eye to make it green rather than blue and to define the magic he holds inside.

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The female Jotúnn Chief raised her blue face to the dull grey clouds and tried to remember how the sun had once shone down on her realm from a bright sky to illuminate the majestic mountains which dominated the landscape. Her eyes were closed and for just a second the huge black granite monoliths surrounded by lush and verdant forests which gave way to rolling fields and wide crystal clear fjords were there again, a reminder of just how beautiful her homeland had once been. A sigh escaped her as she lowered her face and opened her eyes only to see the stark reality of the diminished state of the Iron Wood. Only the fact that it was an area of heightened natural Seidr kept it in a condition as good as this, but back when she and Loki had come here to conceive their children it had been so much more beautiful and so much more…. alive.


That is what the removal of the Casket had done: it had removed the source of the realm’s power; that much was evident. But the very life of Jotúnnheimr was diminishing steadily and as a consequence of this, essential resources were beginning to run out. The realm was dying and the powerful and aloof All Father had decided to stand back and to watch it all happen from the lofty heights of Asgard.


But now there was a chance of survival. There was a chance that the realm could be saved from its slow and inevitable fate of starvation and death. Her husband, The God of Mischief, was sending two of their children to bring back the Casket to its rightful place in just a couple of day’s time. Loki had extended an offer of help and the Jotúnns simply had to do one thing.


They had to elect a High Chieftain at this moot and then the chosen one had to pledge allegiance to Jotúnnheimr’s absent King – The Trickster God himself, Loki.


Angrboda turned back to where the camps were set up amongst the trees of the Iron Wood and began to walk back through the drifting snow, her breath escaping her mouth in plumes of moist air. A large fire had been set in a central clearing and all the Clan Chiefs were gathering to talk about the situation. There was a parley in place and a plate with salt was there to pass round once they were all seated. Each person would take a few of the rough crystals and eat them as a symbol of being in the common house of the Frost Giants, thus bringing into force the tradition that they could not treat each other as enemies and therefore not harm each other. As Angrboda approached the fire, she could see that nearly everyone had arrived and she was one of the last to find her place. She watched as the plate was passed round and each and every one of the Chiefs and their attendants took some and ate it. The plate was set back next to the fire and silence fell.


It was time for the Jotúnns to discuss their future.




Aida paused in her doorway and turned to look at Loki who was watching her every movement with those intense red eyes as she fumbled with the edge of her shawl. Why was she so nervous? She smiled and looked at him with heavy lidded eyes.


“Your Highness, would you care for a night cap?”

“I would, Aida.” Loki’s eyes voiced what he had not said out loud – and much more – as they left hers and travelled slowly down her long neck to appraise her décolleté and even lower. A tightening began in her belly as she pushed the door open further to admit him into her room, and she felt his hand settle on her waist as he came closer to her once he had joined her inside. A click signified he had closed the door behind them and she almost faltered, momentarily unsure as to what to do next, but she quickly spotted the small drinks cabinet over by the balcony doors and went over to prepare something.


“Let us skip the drinks…” Loki’s voice was suddenly right by her ear as she felt his hands snaking around her to stroke her belly and descend to the top of her legs, where the pressure he employed increased, pulling her back into his body. She realised his armour had gone and as she reached behind her to feel at his clothing, she discovered that he was now wearing soft leather trousers and a cotton shirt. Cold lips landed on her shoulder and moved to her neck where he began to suck lightly at her skin while his hand pressed between her legs and began to rub at her through the material of her dress. Loki brought his other hand up and cupped one of her breasts, stroking her nipple which hardened and strained against the silken material, causing him to growl in approval. She felt his teeth graze her skin as his fingers now pinched at the hard nub and his hold on her tightened.


He had been very attentive to her in the Great Hall, talking mostly of her work at the Palace while they had eaten a delicious supper, brought to them by a waitress he had specifically asked for. She was a deaf mute and he had wanted her as their waitress because she was more than capable of bringing food and topping up drinks without being asked and – more importantly – she could not overhear anything they said or speak of it, meaning no gossiping would follow with other servants. He had also asked Aida of her heritage, becoming especially interested when she spoke of how both of her natural parents were dead and that she had been raised by an Asgardian foster parent. There had been a few moments where his features had darkened and he had looked distracted when she had talked of her love for her foster father, but he had quickly recovered and continued as if nothing had happened. Yet during the meal he had drunk perhaps more wine than was wise and his attention had grown less about listening to her and more about looking at her in a provocative manner. Then he had suggested they move on from the Great Hall and had offered to escort her back to her rooms. Although he had not voiced any such thing, she knew there was only one thing on his agenda with her, and here they were, carrying it out.


The Trickster’s hands were becoming more forceful in their exploration of her and he had begun to moan into her neck and shoulders as he continued to bite and to suck at her blue skin. His hand had found its way inside the neckline of her dress and he was kneading at the soft mound of her breast as his other hand continued to grope at her through her dress. As she leaned into him, moulding her body to his and lifting her arms to wrap them backward around his neck, she felt his arousal building against her and she ground her rump into his groin, encouraging him. A few moments later, he let go of her and moved her around to face him. His crimson eyes flashed with dangerous fire as he leaned in and began to kiss her roughly, bringing his hands behind her now to crush her towards him as his tongue pressed against her lips asking for – no, demanding – access. They walked unsteadily – her backwards – until they hit the bed and then Loki half lifted her, half dragged her onto it, still managing somehow to kiss her, grunting passionately with his voice clearly indicating his increasing excitement. The skirts of her beautiful gown were dragged up roughly with one of his hands and he laid his long body down on top of her, parting her legs with his in order to press himself against her, demonstrating his readiness for her.


Aida pulled the hem of Loki’s shirt from his leather pants and ran her hands up underneath the fabric, stroking the slightly rough blue skin of his muscular back and then reaching down to clutch at his buttocks, which were still encased in the black leather, pressing him towards her, now moaning into their kisses as she felt warmth spreading through her womanhood, encouraging the Usurper King to want her. Showing him just what he could have.




Hel reached the door to her suites and turned to Tyr. “Good night my dear Prince,” she said, “I look forward to the Hunt tomorrow. Will you be coming along for the ride, or the tourneys… or both? You are very well practised and should be able to win a few matches!”

“I will come along for the Hunt itself, I think. We will see about the rest. I do not want to upset any of the others.” He took Hel’s living hand and kissed it lightly. “Goodnight, Princess. I shall see you at the breakfast.” He smiled widely and took more than a few seconds to relinquish his hold on her hand, and as he walked away he could all but feel her eye resting on his back as she blushed prettily on her living cheek. Although it went against his core values, Tyr smiled to himself; this was only in order to wind Loki up. He would not allow it to go too far and it should not, therefore, lead to Hel being hurt in any way. As soon as it had driven a burr into Loki’s side, Tyr would back off a little to ensure she did not start to think it could ever become anything serious.


She would be fine, surely?




Erika went straight to her room and sat heavily on her bed as the day’s events tumbled round her mind. She was decided: it was time to leave Asgard behind. Loki had started to change again over the last few weeks and it was not for the better. She had thought he was starting to look at Asgard as somewhere he could rule along with his children and to actually care about the realm, but this sudden emergence of his Jotúnn side and his renewed attraction towards Aida? That was something else and Erika’s gut told her that the Loki she had grown to know was not dealing with it very well – if at all. It was as if a whole new side to him had manifested itself and that even the Mischief could not handle it. He was acting like a hormone-riddled teenager and his behaviour seemed to be completely out of character. It was becoming increasingly distressing for her and she felt as if she was starting to matter less and less to him as the days had passed, no matter what he told her.


The young maid looked around her room sadly. Just as she had thought they had put all their woes behind them and were reaching a point where they might sensibly discuss their future – a future which would unfortunately be one where he would have to watch her age and die as he remained young – things had conspired again to split them apart and her young heart could take no more. She deserved better than this! To be a pawn in the games of age-old Gods was to invite pain and despair in the long run and an image of the beautiful butterfly being taken by the bird in the woods flashed across her mind’s eye again. She would not suffer such a fate as that and be forgotten in the blink of a God’s eye! No, Erika meant to lead a happy and fulfilling life with people who loved her and cared for her and there was only one place in the known worlds where she now felt she could find such a life. And that was in Rivendell on Middle Earth. She would go to the Hunt tomorrow and have a nice day with Sæunn, then quietly leave while the revellers partied on into the night. Loki would be incredibly busy the following day and would not be able to devote much time to thinking about where she might be, and there was a chance she would be able to appeal to Heimdallr to not reveal that she had left the realm.


Standing up from her bed, Erika went to her wardrobe and pulled her large tote bag from it. She had some packing to do.




“Ahhhh…” Loki’s lips drew back to reveal his Jotúnn teeth as he pressed his hips towards Aida’s and he felt her warmth envelop him. Her strong legs wrapped around his waist and he pushed a little more, eager to fill her completely with his ardour. Her nails raked down his back igniting fire in his skin and he growled at the sensation. Pulling back slightly, he thrust hard and leaned into her to bite down hard onto the soft blue skin of her shoulder, causing her to scream out, but she scratched viciously at him again, her nails trailing down from his shoulder blades to his waist, where her hands gripped him powerfully along with her legs. Excitement grew further inside him as his Jotúnn blood pumped forcefully through his veins and he buried his face in the crook of her neck as he began to move in short sharp thrusts, panting hard into the Stygian black hair which caressed his face while he took its owner.


By the Norns, this was what he had been searching for! A mate as perfect as this. Potentially long-lived through her Elven genes, strong and maternal through her Jotúnn genes, exotic and beautiful in appearance. She was of high standing in the Palace and she was clearly willing to be his bed-mate. Although he did not know her incredibly well, she seemed to have been raised by a conscientious and good man and her design efforts around the Palace were well known. The societal qualities she presented to him were those required of a potential Queen and the physical qualities were an obvious bonus. Unconsciously, Loki was already planning heirs with this attractive creature and he intended to enjoy every moment of begetting them. His breaths were coming faster now and as she whispered out “Oh Gods, take me, Loki!” he felt himself start to quicken. He rose up onto his hands with his arms extended and looked down at her as he began to move faster. Her ample blue breasts bounced with his actions and she arched her neck, closing her eyes and crying out with every movement. She lifted her arms up and laid them back on her pillows, her blue fingers knotting themselves in her glorious black hair as her voice reached a crescendo and then her body was pulsing around him as she climaxed, her lips wide open as she mouthed his name voicelessly. She was beautiful in her moment of vulnerability and he in turn lost himself within her, his climax as intense as anything he had ever felt while his seed came forth deep inside her.


Aida’s crimson eyes slowly opened and took a moment to find him as he still moved inside her, not wanting this to end and she brought her hands up to cup his rugged blue jaw line. Relaxing his arms, he lowered himself down on to her and accepted her passionate kiss, but something else, some other kind of emotion began to stir in him and suddenly this all felt wrong. He broke the kiss and focussed on her face for a moment before suddenly rising off her and climbing from her bed. All the thoughts and ideas about a potential Queen left his head as he quickly showered and he found himself unable to even look at her as he left her room.




The Frost Giant Chiefs watched as one of the most powerful females of the realm paced backwards and forwards, the fire illuminating her handsome features as she spoke at length of the opportunity which presented itself to them. Many of them already had alliances – uneasy as they were in these difficult times – with this Chief and what she was saying made perfect sense to most of them.


“He is a liar and a cheat, but he is also fiercely loyal to those who have stuck by him.” Said Angrboda. She was trying to choose her words wisely; there was only one chance at this and she needed everyone to see things her way. Jotúnnheimr was doomed unless Loki’s offer was accepted, but the feudal history of the Clans meant that cooperation between them would be a difficult thing to accept. Fortunately, she was the Chief of one of the dominant Clans and had support from about a dozen smaller ones who had lands bordering on hers. She had won them over by demonstrating that a part share in a wide variety of resources was far better than only having every bit of just one asset. In doing so, these clans had access to shelter, fuel, food and water, albeit in scant supply. It was meted out between them by holding a daily distribution at a centrally agreed place where weapons were forbidden. The children – who were the most precious resource of them all in these short-lived and relatively infertile Giants – were sent there to trade and the parents guarded the area from bandits and looters from other Clans. It had worked fairly well over the years since the Casket had been taken, but times were getting harder and harder and the alliance was growing strained.


“I truly believe he wants this realm to be restored. He will exact a price, of that you can be sure, but it will be one which is worth it!” She looked around at the faces of those who were listening to her and she could see those who were in agreement – and those who were not. One of these spoke out now.


“And what if some of us want no part of this? We would still get a realm restored and we would not have to bow down to a bastard runt who has no right to the Kingdom in the first place!”

“He is our King! He was born of Laufey and Fárbauti and they were our rulers. Where Loki originated from and where he grew up is irrelevant – he was born of our King and Queen!” Angrboda rounded on the one who had spoken and bared her teeth angrily, “Show me an alternative! Tell me how we are going to stop Jotúnnheimr’s death! You will damn the younglings' future with your idiotic ideas!” She waved her muscular arm in her opponent’s direction as she looked round at the other Giants. “This is the kind of talk which will kill us all! We are forbidden to travel from here. The Bi-Frost is closed to us. We are doomed!”


Angrboda lowered her arm and calmed herself. It was with great difficulty because she cared so much for her realm. She was so closely connected with the very substance of Jotúnnheimr that she felt the mortification taking place deep in its roots, felt the life force diminishing with every day that passed and it saddened her to know that it was simply being allowed to happen. The realm of the Giants was being allowed to pass into obscurity and it seemed that the only one who cared enough was Loki, selfish though his motives might be.


“I will leave you all to think upon it, but Loki’s envoys arrive in just two days and by then we have to have a representative who speak for us all.” Standing tall, the formidable Giantess slowly looked around at those gathered and met every single one of them in the eye. “We need to raise up a High Chieftain. A Chieftain who can unite the Clans and lead them in a manner beneficial to us all.


“By sunrise, we need a leader.”




Aida lay on her bed for a long while after she had watched Loki stride from her room without so much as a glance in her direction. She could still feel his weight upon her, still feel and smell his sex on her, still hear his panting as he had taken her passionately. Yet for some reason he had suddenly become cold shortly afterwards and had simply left. Was she failing in her task to get closer to him? She needed to know that he trusted her implicitly before she even thought about trying to take his life. She needed him to be completely comfortable around her so that he would let his guard down.


Aida sighed and rose from the bed to go to wash Loki’s essence off her. She would simply have to persevere.




The last of the Palace decorators packed their tools into their baskets and loaded them onto a wagon drawn by a large black dray. Hopping on the back, they called out to the driver and they swayed as they set off back to the city, glad to be going home after a long day fixing bunting and pegging out archery courses and arenas for sword fighting. It was incredibly cold and all the stars were starting to dot the black night sky as they rolled along. One of the servants started up a merry song and one by one they all joined in on their journey home.


Back at the site of the Hunt and tourneys to be held the following day, the temperature quickly dropped and frost began to appear on the grass, rocks and leaves, sparkling in the crisp bright Asgardian Moonlight, giving the scene a beautiful and ethereal quality. That same frost was penetrating into the soils where the moisture trapped within was at very high levels following the rains up in the Mountain slopes, which had made its way down over the past few weeks. As the ice crystals formed, they swelled and began to create fissures in the already precariously heaped mounds of earth and rocks, destabilising them in the process. These mounds of earth which framed the edge of the precipice over which the impressive waterfall gushed were beautiful, but in their very nature, deadly.


Of course, these were natural processes and were not necessarily on the minds of people who had simply been employed to make the clearing around the waterfall look fit for a Royal occasion. They were hidden behind thinly scattered trees, giant boulders and swathes of autumnal wildflowers. Yet, deep down in the soils, cracks began to appear and were now only held together with the night’s frost – something which would only last as long as the ground remained in its sub-zero state.




When Loki arrived in the antechamber of the Royal suites, he knew damn well that Hel was still up and around and that she was waiting to see when he arrived and with whom. Although he could not see her, he could feel a distinct atmosphere of expectation and his hunch was that she was probably peering through one of the large key holes in her door right at this very moment. Choosing to ignore this childish behaviour, he strode straight to the doors of his own rooms and nodded at the Palace Guards standing outside as he went in.


Once he had closed the doors behind him, he relaxed his formal appearance of the Jotúnn King in his Royal dress armour and helmet. They melted away as he assumed his Asgardian form and crossed the main room to get to the huge desk he used to write at. It served as a place to keep the odd bottle of alcohol and he retrieved some Dwarven Liquor along with a crystal tumbler from inside. Pouring a drink, he sauntered over to the fire, magically changing the under clothing from his armour into a pair of black lounging pants as he went, and sat down to stare into the hypnotic flames. He knocked back the first drink and poured another generous shot before placing the bottle on the low table in front of him and leaning back into the comfortable sofa to relax. Several minutes and the second drink passed by, before his eyes which he had closed in the cosy warmth of the room suddenly snapped open. Where was Erika?


Loki quickly connected with his Altseende Øyets and in his mind’s eye a map formed, showing the location of each one. He concentrated on the closest one and an image of Erika’s bedroom appeared from the point of view of a corbel near one of her windows. Loki had placed it there once he had lost the ability to link with her directly, but had hardly ever used it to see if she was around, but tonight was an exception. He had publicly dismissed her after a particularly hurtful reminder of who she was to him and he had abandoned his pursuit of her in favour of a liaison with Aida. He sighed; the Jotúnn inside him was growing ever more powerful as it was realising its prime and he did not always recognise that it was doing it. What that meant for his future and his ability to rule or to lead the hordes to Vígríðr he did not know; it was something he would have to learn to control however, as he did not want to succumb to something he could not use to his advantage or which might jeopardise his plans. A quick glance through the Altseende quickly revealed she was there, apparently asleep, and he felt a measure of relief as he watched her, helping himself to another drink and becoming drowsy himself.


After a while, he realised he was drifting off and should really retire for the night; it was incredibly late and even the large fire in the hearth was having trouble keeping the bitter cold from outside at bay. Loki rose from the large sofa and downed the last inch of liquor from his glass, then stared at the flames dancing in the huge stone fireplace. A shudder went through him and the fine black hairs on his pale arms stood on end as a faint memory of savage fires embedded in cruel whips rose like an unwelcome bubble in his mind. The desire to seek solace in Erika’s bed grew strong inside but he knew it would be just so terribly wrong after where he had been earlier; to use her in such a selfish manner was – he hoped – beneath even the Trickster, and he decided instead to go to his own empty bed to sleep alone.


States Of A God's Heart Ch91 The Spirit is Willing
... but the flesh is weak.
Loki veers ever further down the path towards his ancient genetic heritage.

Not a long one, but a few big chunks of necessity to prepare for the next chapter.
Edited to remove strong language and to tone down the adult scenes. Original on AO3

This is the Ninety first part of the sequel to To Tame A God
Previous Chapter: States Of A God's Heart Ch90: Identity Disorder
Next Chapter: States Of A God's Heart Ch92: The Breakfast Club

It was a long evening after all, a very long evening and I suppose I should have known it would be one where we would fall out at some point because of what I wanted to talk with him about. We had a very nice dinner which was served by Head Chef and I managed to get Loki to confirm where Thor and Odin are. It is as Gaia told me; they are on Midgard. I asked about them coming back and he said it was not a good idea. I also told him that I had discussed the Ravens with Fulla and that we both felt his treatment of them was cruel. He unlocked their chains, Diary! Just like that, as if he had no problem with it at all. I do not know if they left, but they are at least free to come and go as they choose now.


When I told him that I had returned Mjölnir to the weapons vault, he did not say anything about it, but I know he was pleased. If he had been angry, he would have said something, but I think he is too proud even now to admit when he is happy about something. It is as if the cold hard shell he has built up around him is too comfortable and too important to him to allow it to thaw. Yet the conversation was going quite well at this point. The food was very nice; although I confess watching him eat was fascinating to me and I almost forgot my own plate. I know I am under some kind of infatuation with him, but I cannot help it and I seem to lose concentration when I am around him. He had noticed my new look of course and he complimented me on it, but the conversation quickly changed because he is just so oblivious to my predicament; that I can never be with him officially. When I pointed it out to him and told him he needs a Queen he became upset. I should explain before I carry on. I used Odin’s words from when he split Loki and Móðir up all those years ago and, well, it hurt him. I tried to run out and to my own room because I was upset too, but he stopped me and transported me to his mother’s garden, which has been shut off since she died. We talked there about his mother a little, but the conversation soon came back to our relationship. I told him once more that I cannot possibly have any future with him. I am mortal, I am of a lowly background and I would never be accepted as any sort of Royal companion. Yet it is as if he does not want to acknowledge the truth of it. Oh Diary, it is breaking my heart! Why did I ever allow myself to get this way?


It is quite obvious to me now, today, as I sit in the broad light of a beautiful autumnal day here in my room. It is because I am under the spell of the Trickster. How much of it is voluntary I do not know, but I am and I see no way out of it without heartache. I feel I must remove myself from his presence for a time and give him the space to find himself a true companion and potential Queen. Perhaps then I can come back into his service and be a maid to them both? Yet even as I write this, I know it might not work out. Only this morning, he avoided talking about things with me further by waking me up and showing me how much he loves me in the most beautiful way. And I did nothing to stop him. He is just so – oh I do not know! He is the must insufferably attractive and desirable and lovable fool!

And so he left this morning to go about Palace business and it was as if we had never had the conversation about his needing a noblewoman or a Goddess as his consort. My lasting memory of this morning is of the pale fire of the morning sun illuminating his handsome face as we showed each other our love. I cannot shake it. I have decided that I am going to make Loki Laufeyson aware of just what I am made of and I am going to accost him in a private corridor to kiss him! I am the maid of the Mischief after all! Yet at some point I know I will have to walk away from all of this.


Diary, how am I going to break this addiction……….


Diary Of Loki's Chambermaid Ch73: Palefire
Erika grabs a moment before returning to her role as Loki's maid after a day to herself and wonders if he will be angry with anything she has done...

This is a series that follows 
Am I truly A Monster? Loki x Reader. Part 1 of 2
and it starts here: Diaries of Loki's Chambermaid. 1: Appointment

Previous Chapter: Diary Of Loki's Chambermaid Ch72: I Belong To Loki


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samahami Featured By Owner Jun 8, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
thank you for the llama!! :D:D:D:D
palefire73 Featured By Owner Jun 8, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome! 😊
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ColdForDeath Featured By Owner Mar 15, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Congratulations for your birthday! ^O^
palefire73 Featured By Owner Mar 15, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you - it's been a nice one so far :happybounce: 
Pauline-Shatalova Featured By Owner Mar 4, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you so much for the fav!!<3
palefire73 Featured By Owner Mar 4, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
You're very welcome :D
missizelisting Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2016  Hobbyist
thanks for the Llama!
palefire73 Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome :D
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