Remembrance (Of Things Past) - Loki
Vague flickers floated in front of him, the few times he had done his appointed job, spreading the message, the Word, before running and hiding again, longing for his brothers, for the comfort of their arms and the love they shared, but knowing that one of them was no longer his to hold. He sought oblivion.
Gabriel had had no idea how long he had slept, curled up in the darkness of the Earth. He awoke hungry. Sending his mind searching outside he took the form of the first creature that seemed interesting enough. He stretched out long slender front legs, and shook his new body into life. Twisting his head, he looked back over his body, a small grin revealing sharp teeth as he realised that even in his new form his hair still retained a reddish hue.
Amber eyes blinked in the light as he ventured outside, the world looked different from this perspective, and it smelled different. In fact it smelled amazing. A low growl issued from his throat, echoing the rumble in his stomach. He needed food.
Later, stomach stuffed full of berries and a couple of mice that he had captured amongst the bushes, he decided he needed distractions. Wandering slowly south, the smell of cooking food drew him towards a small campsite. The scent of cooking cornmeal had his tongue hanging out. A little trickery soon had the humans running out to the south of the camp, as Gabriel snuck in from the north. Turning his back on the fire he covered it with earth, after all even though he was a coyote, he wasn’t stupid enough to get his paws burnt. Once the flames were doused, he quickly dug the cornbread out, dragging it off to one of the tents, where he devoured it.
Slinking out, he watched amused as the humans bickered and squabbled over the doused fire and the missing food. This was fun.
Gabriel swirled into darkness again. Although some of the tricks he had played as ‘Old Man Coyote’ were classics, he really was quite happy not to live through that time again. For a while he had thought he would never get the taste of mouse fur out of his mouth.
Memories rushed back again. The first thing Gabriel noticed was the cold. Actually it was freaking freezing. Gabriel found himself lying sprawled across a huge bed. Reaching out he pulled a fur over his bare torso, yawning and scratching at his stomach as it warmed.
“Ah, you are awake my love.” Gabriel stared over towards the door that dominated the far wall of the room. A tall slender woman strolled slowly across the room, before climbing on to the bottom of the bed, crawling her way up over Gabriel’s legs. She straddled his hips, smiling softly down at him as she un-braided the long fall of pale, almost white gold hair. Gabriel slid his hands over slender hips, pulling at the hem of her apron-dress, lifting it up, leaving Angrboda dressed in her plain linen underdress. Angrboda lowered her mouth to his, her soft lips nipping gently at his, as Gabriel, no, I am Loki now. Gabriel is gone, slid his hands into the heavy weight of her hair, angling her mouth over his, deepening the kiss.
Loki groaned with pleasure as Angrboda shifted back onto her hips, the delicious pressure of her pelvis rocking against his sending his blood rushing southwards. A smile flickered over kiss-reddened lips as she rose onto her knees, pulled her shift over her head, her hair falling forwards over her small, high breasts. A low growl rumbled out of Loki’s throat, bringing another smile and then a gasp of pleasure as he wrapped his hands around her waist, tumbling her backwards into the pile of furs that covered the bed.
Loki buried his face into the delicate curve where neck met shoulder, biting and licking at the tender flesh, smiling against the pale skin as his growing interest brought more gasps and a “Please, my lord.” He let his mouth trail downwards, chasing the flush that spread across his lover’s pale skin, licking and sucking at the soft skin of her breasts, as his fingers slid lower still.
He moaned, a low dirty sound, at finding her already slick, her hips grinding up against his hand.
Moving his mouth back up, he licked softly at her mouth, sliding his tongue carefully over sharp teeth, chasing the honey-mead taste of her mouth. As he moved inside her, she bit down on his tongue, filling his mouth with the warm copper taste of blood.
Angrboda laughed, licking at Loki’s mouth, her head falling back to show lips stained red. Their movements grew more frantic, Loki pinning Angrboda’s deceptively strong form to the bed, trying to avoid the razor teeth that gleamed between crimson lips. Loki groaned as she twisted beneath him, hips rising up, legs wrapping around his waist.
That moment of distraction allowed Angrboda to shift a shoulder free, her stomach muscles contracted, bringing her head and shoulders arching off the bed and she sank her teeth hard into the meaty flesh of Loki’s bicep, the combined pain and pressure of her internal muscles bringing Loki hard.
As he felt himself come he twisted Angrboda’s arms beneath her forcing her body to bow against him, the change of angle allowing him to move deeper inside, the pain pushing her over the edge, gasping his name.
As Gabriel spiralled into the darkness again, he took the feeling with him, picking it apart in the darkness. The way that even though he had loved her as much as he could, he sometimes wished that Angrboda’s hair was shorter, much shorter, her skin golden instead of the blue-white of the glaciers to the far north. He had a few truly happy memories of his time with Angrboda, and he remembered the surprise and the joy he had felt when Angrboda had given him children.
His beautiful daughter Hel, whose hair was pale like her mother’s, her skin the cold blue of rot and disintegration. The wolf Fenrir, shaggy coated and fierce, who would be the death of Odin, and the serpent Jormundgand, whom Odin had cast into the ocean, where he had grown to an enormous size. Strange as his children were, Loki loved them all.
A memory surfaced. Loki stood upon the shore, watching the waves spill grey and white over the sand and pebbles, rushing up towards his booted feet. Out in the distance he could see the curve of a spine break through the storm-tossed water, blue and green scales glinting in the pale autumn light. He smiled with fierce love and pride as he watched his young son twist his body through the waves, turning and chasing after the barb at the end of his flicking tail.
A voice behind him brought him round, a more forced smile curving his lips as he met the dark eyes of the woman approaching him. Her black hair was tightly braided against the gusting wind. A small bundle was held to her breast, the child wrapped tight against the cruel winds that gusted across the cliffs.
“Sigyn, wife…” Loki’s hand rose, falling softly against her cheek, thumb tracing the flush of colour the wind had brought to her skin. Sigyn smiled up at him, dark eyes warm with love. Her dark brows creased into a slight frown as she noted Loki’s troubled expression.
“What did the runes say, my husband? Tell me, please! Did Freya cast them for Vali and Nari?”
Loki smiled down at the bundle of clothes between them, the shape of the child barely discernible underneath the layers of fabric. He stroked a finger gently across his sleeping son’s face, the small lips pouting and opening in a soft circle, head turning to chase his father’s finger.
“Come wife, I think our son grows hungry, and I doubt you wish to feed him out here. And you know we cannot leave his brother for long.” Loki hoped that his words would distract his wife, knew that once they were back inside the Keep the children would keep her busy until he could work out how to tell her that her sons were destined to kill each other to punish him.
Loki knew he had to leave; he had been here too long, had grown used to this easy life. The power was too easy to come by and the darkness was becoming too enticing. The rituals carried out in his name, previously celebrating the pleasures of alcohol and lust, revellers drinking and laughing, hiding behind masks, were becoming darker, gasps of pain becoming more common than tears of laughter. And for a while Loki had been enjoying it. Had been enjoying the blood spilled in his name. But who better to know the temptations of the darker side, of power without the consequences, of faith without the trust of unconditional love.
That was the night that Gabriel had ceased being Loki. He had left the body held together with smoke and mirrors. Pretty soon it would self-destruct, but by then Gabriel would be long gone, hidden in the curl of a seashell, the spiral of a sunflower. He needed to fade from the world for a while to get back to who he was.
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