Coming to Asgard in such a manner – by way of the Bifrost – had certainly never crossed her mind; it had become almost a point of pride to figure out the technology required to make it their by her own prowess and the technology she was crafting, yet Ronnie couldn't deny that she'd learned a great deal in the short time she and Stephen had spent in the curious, foreign realm. In point of fact, Ronnie had spoken with a number of more technically-inclined Asgardians concerning their own technology and the 'magic' that made it work as it did, and such an acquaintance was why she'd wandered away from Stephen's side at the banquet the royals hosted.
Even those of Asgard not more martially-inclined abstained from alcohol, though, and as the night progressed, Ronnie found their conversation less and less helpful. She'd even knocked a few back herself when the goblets and tankards had been pressed into her hands, and more than once she'd had to lean back from a pawing hand that just barely brushed over the soft pink satin of her corset. It wouldn't have been Ronnie's first choice of attire, but she would admit the flared, black skirt dotted with winks of white to give off the illusion of stars in the nighttime sky was perfect.
She could feel her cheeks flush from the alcohol, as well as some of the more rakish comments, though with a nervous chuckle Ronnie stood from the table and excused herself, slipping out of the great hall and towards one of the many balconies overlooking Asgard proper. The one she chose was mercifully empty, and Ronnie skimmed a hand down her stomach before inhaling deeply, the cool air helping the warmth of her skin even if it did little to alleviate her anxiety.
You sure I can't tempt you? Ronnie could still remember the burly man's wriggling eyebrows and rippling biceps, the redhead swallowing before taking steps closer to the balcony's edge, fingertips curling over the stone railing. That sorcerer of yours surely can't satisfy you. She shook the sound of the man's voice free from her mind, though there...did seem to be something different about their relationship since they'd come to Asgard. Ronnie couldn't pinpoint what had changed it, or if indeed it were her own perceptions and others' coloring her thoughts, or hell, perhaps it was the alcohol.
The urge to rake her fingers back through her perfectly-coiffed hair was strong, though one she ultimately suppressed; she couldn't very well return to the festivities looking as though she'd just rolled out of bed with someone.
“And what, pray tell, is our human guest doing so far removed from the festivities celebrating her arrival with the wizard's?” Ronnie inhaled sharply as she turned, blue eyes blinking several times before she let out a few sheepish chuckles.
“It was getting a bit too...crowded in there,” Ronnie admitted, not quite able to relax now that her sanctuary had been violated. The realm's princess and current heir to the throne, Hela, blocked her exit, green eyes gleaming and seeming to see through the feeble excuse Ronnie had offered.
“Were my father and his cohorts not so enamored by their mead, they might take offense that their guest of honor has fled the field,” Hela replied silkily, effortlessly, her steps silent and catlike as she approached.
“Does my absence offend you so?” Ronnie remarked glibly, a crimson eyebrow curling upwards. Hela's lips twitched into a grin, the woman clearly impressed and perhaps even approving, though there was an underlying gleam in her eyes that continued to unsettle Ronnie, something predatory that made her feel as though she were the prey.
“You are absent from me no longer,” Hela shot back, the princess leaning an arm against the railing and looking over Ronnie's form with a slow, deliberate gaze. Once her gaze caught Ronnie's, though, the latter felt pinned in place, as though Hela had cast some sort of spell over her to keep her in place, though when Hela looked away, Ronnie did as well. Her heart was pounding curiously, and the twitch of Hela's lips seemed to indicate the princess knew her effects on the other.
“Perhaps I'd better get back,” Ronnie then murmured, eager to get away from this strange feeling and the equally strange woman who unnerved her so. She headed for the balcony's exit, trying not to feel the searing look on her back as she did so. “I did leave Stephen all alone-”
“I can assure you, he is being well tended,” Hela purred, the woman seeming to reappear at her side before long, elegant fingers grasped a hold of her forearm and tugged sharply; there was strength in her grip that Ronnie would have never guessed from merely looking at Hela's slight form, though Ronnie let out a quiet yelp at being tugged and pushed against the outer wall of the balcony, so very near the door yet far enough away so others could not see unless they stepped onto the balcony themselves.
“As will you,” Hela then breathed against her ear, Ronnie's heart racing as Hela's lips curled into a smirk before nipping at the lobe of her ear. A pleased, deep chuckle slipped past the princess' lips at how easily and readily Ronnie seemed to jolt from such a simple touch, though the surprised gasp she let out as Hela's hand slipped unceremoniously between her legs was swallowed as she sealed their lips together. The kiss was firm and deep, Hela's free hand slipping around to the back of Ronnie head and angling it accordingly, and while Ronnie knew she needed to do something to stop this, she could do little but be swept away from the heat and the passion, her lips parting mechanically for Hela's sweeping, probing tongue.
Ronnie whined as one of Hela's fingers slid underneath her dress and firmly along her slit, never parting her and only offering the barest amount of pressure until Ronnie's hips bucked closer and Hela smirked against her lips before pulling away. “So impatient,” Hela clicked her tongue, though Ronnie's eyelids fluttered as Hela's finger pressed deeper and found her entrance with minimal effort. Ronnie's heart was racing, her now-swollen lips parted for air that seemed reluctant to come, and when she realized Hela wasn't moving, she dared to blink her eyes open. Hela seemed to be assessing her, the mirth gone from her gaze as something much more serious took its place. “Tell me what you want. Beg for me to end you,” Hela then demanded, her thumbnail scraping across the hood of Ronnie's clit and earning a sharp cry for her trouble, Ronnie's hips snapping forward for more of that friction.
Some part of Ronnie knew she shouldn't, that this was wrong on some level, but the slick coating Hela's fingers as they idled between arousal-soaked folds proved she cared less about that than finding her end, even at the hand of someone like Hela. Her teeth grazed across her bottom lip as she struggled internally, though Hela's patience was not inexhaustible, and her expression darkened unpleasantly when Ronnie pleas were not as forthcoming as she'd desired. “You have one chance,” Hela murmured menacingly, her fingers seeking out Ronnie's clit and rolling it between them. “Beg for it, or I'll leave you to finish for yourself.”
It was admittedly different to think as Hela's fingers continued to twirl and tweak her clit rhythmically, though Ronnie's hand reached for Hela's shoulder as her breasts heaved in her too-tight corset, the blue of her eyes nearly hidden behind blown pupils. “P-please,” Ronnie breathed, lips wet from her tongue. “Touch me. Fuck me. Make me come.” The smile that spread across Hela's lips upon hearing that was one Ronnie would have never been able to describe, though she did cry out when Hela's fingers released her clit and pressed inside of her, curling at her inner walls and dragging before thrusting back inside fiercely.
Two fingers soon become three, then four, and Ronnie felt something twist and tighten low in her gut as Hela's thumb brushed over her clit; she came with a loud shriek as Hela's fingers thrust back inside of her, and to her surprise, Hela didn't retract her hand immediately after doing so. When Ronnie was able to look over at Hela, the princess seemed almost lost in thought, as though she'd seen something so impossibly beautiful or moving she had no words for it.
“Very good, pet,” Hela whispered, sliding her fingers free from her still-slick hollow and pressing a kiss to her lips, though this time it was slow and sensual, her tongue gliding over Ronnie's lips teasingly before pulling away and lifting her hand to taste Ronnie's climax.
Hela's eyes fluttered as though it were a treasured delicacy, and Ronnie somehow didn't recoil when the princess reached her still-dry hand to Ronnie's pale cheek, fingertips grazing across the sensitive skin before she slipped back into the corridor, and left Ronnie confused and aroused and still in no fit state to return to the banquet.