I am the Lady Loki of Asgard, and you, mortals, have not yet known chaos.
(This is an independent non-comics verse Lady Loki role play blog. It does not follow the comic canon in terms of Loki stealing Sif's body, but is instead meant as a genderswap Loki. I do not own any of the characters etc. )
 | siffed asked: ✲ |
Dominance in my partner, though I do not mind switching around.
 | balderoncebrave asked: ✲ |
Wit. I like it when my partners can keep up intellectually.
//rehearsal went really short today. Should be home in the next hour and then more posting. :)
Loki swore under her breath, shaking her head. She’d not thought him that sort herself — but then that made him a most effective enemy, did it not? She wondered how much of it was him, and how much of it was someone else pressuring him into it.But then perhaps it was all him.
Loki couldn’t help the wry little chuckle that she breathed into the space of the alcove that she and her brother occupied, and she reached up, massaging her forehead even as she listened to the people assembled beyond.
“Njord,” Grunnhild murmured, almost a warning, “we did not think you would be here.”
“I was…persuaded. I wish to say outright that I do not agree with any of this, though I am willing to hear you out.” Ulf snorted but said nothing to either of them for the time being, and Loki gritted her teeth together.
Loki swallowed down his bile at Njord’s words. Nobody could fault him for listening to them, a fact Njord must know very well, and he had also made sure that any eavesdroppers were aware of his position.
He may not like intrigue but he is certainly more skilled in this area than I gave him credit for, Loki thought, studying the other man with new eyes. It was strange to think of Njord as a possible enemy, for he had always been there, a constant figure in the background of Loki’s life; his daughter, Freya, was the Queen’s closest friend and he had been Balder’s first foster father. In fact, Loki’s first memory of Njord featured him leading Balder into the great hall. He closed his eyes, surprised by the wave of emotion that accompanied the image: he’d been happy and excited to see Balder. When had that changed?
“My lord,” Grunnhild began. “I think you know why we have asked to meet you here. These are desperate times. The All-Father has been weakened by the wasting, Thor is wandering the galaxies with no care for Asgard and Loki…”
Njord’s face darkened and Grunnhild stopped speaking at his expression.
“Be careful what you say about the second prince,” Njord said, his voice a rumble. “Those who underestimate him do so at their cost. He is his father’s son.”
Ulf scoffed. “He is mad! Mad and a liability, even you must say so, Njord!”
“I say no such thing,” Njord replied, his voice becoming even harsher. “Speak your piece, Ulf, but do not insult the royal family in my presence.”
“We wish for you to lead, my Lord,” Grunnhild began finally, her spine straightening unconsciously. Loki swallowed a smirk for both the woman and for Njord. How quaint.
They wished for him to lead. Lead what? The insurrection or Asgard? She thought that, given the chance, Njord would most likely prefer to return to ruling Vanaheim. What use had he for Asgard really?
“And what exactly would I be leading,” Njord wondered in turn, pacing. Loki watched him, wondering how little he really understood.
His face told the story. While he was tired, more tired than he had ever been in his entire existence, Clint knew why she was saying this. “Well, at least bring me something that tastes like somethin’,” he begged, knowing that even after all these years, hospital food was still hospital food.
Clint looked to his wife and pressed his lips to her cheek. “I have loved and will always love you. Always.”
“I shall see what I can do,” she breathed in a sigh. She hoped sincerely that he fell to sleep before she did, else she ran the risk of losing consciousness from lack of rest and then he would not get any food at all.
Loki’s arm tightened slightly about him as he told her he loved her. “And I you…” she returned, knowing full well that she hardly admitted such enough to be satisfactory. Perhaps there lay the stress in their relationship.
“Is there anything in particular that — isn’t fast food,” she wanted to know, “that you would like to have at hand for when you awake?”
Clint knew that now was the time to make peace with the past. The things that he could never have forgiven decades ago seemed to pale in the light of her eyes right now. In this moment, all he wished was to be strong enough to protect her from all those who would cry for her blood or wish her ill even in the slightest.
He thought for a moment before looking up to her once more. “Spaghetti.” Clint pondered for a moment. “With that sauce you say you don’t like but you really do like.” He managed a smile now, putting his hands in the shape of a heart over his.
“Oh please, pesto is insufferable,” she murmured, disgust clear on her features. She humoured him, however. “I shall ask the healers about it and if they are amenable then I shall bring some,” she assured him.
“Are you comfortable,” she asked then, concern suddenly dripping from her words. “I am not hurting you laying against you like this, am I?” How sickeningly sweet you’ve become, Loki.
She silenced her own thoughts with great shove of her psyche.
He laughed softly. “KiKi,” he began, nudging his head to be closer with hers, “I meant I’m gonna sleep right now and when I wake up, would you be back?” Clint’s eyes were filled with mischief, the kind he’d learned from her over the years.
“Cause if y’are, I want a burger an’ a milkshake.”
“Oh,” she replied, tone flat, “…no I will not be bringing you either of those things, Clint Barton. Your doctors were very specific about cholesterol and fast food.” Loki sighed again, nudging closer in kind.
“I will be here for as long as you are,” she informed him then. “…I called Anders not too long ago, and he said he was on his way. So likely he’ll also be here when you’ve woken.”
His face told the story. While he was tired, more tired than he had ever been in his entire existence, Clint knew why she was saying this. “Well, at least bring me something that tastes like somethin’,” he begged, knowing that even after all these years, hospital food was still hospital food.
Clint looked to his wife and pressed his lips to her cheek. “I have loved and will always love you. Always.”
“I shall see what I can do,” she breathed in a sigh. She hoped sincerely that he fell to sleep before she did, else she ran the risk of losing consciousness from lack of rest and then he would not get any food at all.
Loki’s arm tightened slightly about him as he told her he loved her. “And I you…” she returned, knowing full well that she hardly admitted such enough to be satisfactory. Perhaps there lay the stress in their relationship.
“Is there anything in particular that — isn’t fast food,” she wanted to know, “that you would like to have at hand for when you awake?”
