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On the mountain was a treasure

Buried deep beneath a stone

And the Valley People swore

They’d have it for their very own


Odin was a greedy King.  He ruled over Asgard, he ruled over all of the Nine Realms, and still he craved more.  For many years the legends of Jotunheim’s vast wealth had traveled to Odin through songs and poems and legends, and now he wanted to see it for himself.  He wanted to have it for his own. He sets his eyes upon Jotunheim, the icy fortress miles beyond the northernmost borders of Asgard, and took his army to capture the golden realm.

When his army arrived in Jotunheim they were not disappointed by what they found.  Though the tundra was cold and physically punishing the soldiers were seduced by the golden spires of Utgard and the abundance of jewels and fine silks that the traders offered at the market.  They took it all. They pillaged the town, burned the markets down, took all of the gold and jewels and exotic Jotunn women as the spoils of their war. Odin had promised his soldiers they could keep whatever treasures they captured from the city, as long as he could have the treasure that was kept hidden beneath the Palace at Utgard.

As his soldiers counted their gold he set his sights upon capturing the Palace at Utgard and the hidden treasury beneath it, where Laufey-King kept the fabled Golden Loom of Jotunheim.  The legends said that with the Loom, any man could take some cheap cotton wool and weave it into the finest sheets of gold. Now that he’d seen the gleaming city for himself, Odin did not doubt that the legends were true.  And his greed consumed him. He wanted- he needed to have the Loom.

They stormed the palace and slew every giant they met.  A thousand Jotunn died that day, until the only one left was Laufey-King himself. Odin faced him down, Gungnir held firmly in his hand as he challenged his once-cousin for his treasure.

“I’ve come for the Loom that is foretold in your legends.  I know that it is real, and you have it in your treasury. Give it to me now and I will spare your life.”

Laufey sneered.  “You think it will work for you?  You are mighty, Odin-King, but you are witless.  Take what’s in my Treasury and go. You will see Asgard and all the Nine Realms fall to my hands by the end of this millennium.”

Odin laughed, and ordered his soldiers to take down the doors to the treasury.  Odin’s eyes gleamed with greed and delight as the great ice shafts cracked and crumbled.  He stepped into the Treasury, ready to possess all the riches of Jotunheim. What he saw instead shocked him.  A babe, no more than 500 years by the looks of him, sat in the center of the icy floor conjuring butterflies from Seidr and then promptly crushing them to dust between his little blue fingers.  He was small for a Jotunn, and hairy too. Odin seethed with rage.

“What is it, Odin-King?  Dissatisfied with what Jotunheim has to offer?” Laufey taunted .  Odin glared at him. Then he looked back at the babe, examined its face and saw the delicate lines that were etched into his skin.  Odin’s eye sparkled with understanding, and he stepped forward and scooped the babe into his arms.

“Not at all.  I think this will be the most fitting punishment for your trickery; the Get of Laufey will spend five thousand years scrubbing the floors of the Palace at Gladsheim.  And when your realm withers away to nothing without its heir, I will be waiting to take your throne and all of your gold and the Loom, as well.”

Odin and his soldiers marched from the palace, the little Jotunn prince slung over the shoulder of the Allfather.  He blinked his little red eyes at his father as he was taken away, and Laufey smiled at him and waved. Loki would do well on Asgard, and soon the Nine Realms would fall.

The truth was that Odin was upset when he returned to Asgard.  His march on Jotunheim had been, for the most part, successful.  His soldiers were well-fed and had plenty of plunder to share, some even returning with beautiful Jotunn women on their arms to call their brides.  But Odin did not have what he truly desired, which was the Loom. Instead he now had this Jotunn runt crying on the floor of his kitchen, blubbering in the foreign dialect of Utgard and making dishes fly around the kitchen in a Seidr-fueled tantrum.

His wife Frigga looked after the child as if Loki were her own.  She was gentle with the babe despite the fact that he was Jotunn.  She took him with her for long walks in the garden and to read in the library.  When he was not busy doing his chores-- for Odin was still spiteful about the entire ordeal, and needed to take his vengeance for Laufey out on the child somehow-- he learned to read and write Asgardian runes by Frigga’s instruction.  She also taught him to weave and sew, as this was her job during the day time, and this Loki took to like a professional seamstress.

As he grew, Loki no longer required a nanny and was given to more strenuous tasks around the palace.  He spent his days weaving blankets and clothes for the palace staff, washing dirty dishes and using his Seidr to mend cracks in the palace foundation.  He hated the work, and he hated the realm of Asgard even more. He was 1000 years old now, and on Jotunheim he would be taking his first rites of passage to manhood.  Here on Asgard he was still considered a boy and even worse at that; a Jotunn slave. Everyday he had to put up with terrible comments and jabs from the palace staff and soldiers, men who had been there on the day he was kidnapped from his homeland.

“We ought to just let the soldiers take their pay from the Jotunn’s ass,” Odin sneered as he watched Loki eat, shoveling whole chicken legs and pork loin into his hungry maw during lunch one day.  “Then it would actually be worth it to keep him around. At this rate he eats more than he polishes the floors.”

“He is too young for that, father.”  Odin’s first son, Thor, was the one who spoke.  He was almost 1500 years old, and had quite the reputation on his own for being a fierce warrior.  Loki had not paused to chew since he’d sat down at the supper table, but now when Thor spoke, he lifted his head.  “Take him to the stables and let him care for my horses. I’ll take him as my personal page boy and make the investment worthwhile to you.”

Odin hummed, and nodded in agreement.  “Fine. But don’t be soft on him. Remember that this is Laufey’s brat, and he’s a slave to us.”

Thor bobbed his head.  “Of course, father,” he said, but already he was looking at Loki with that soft expression he always reserved for small puppies and beautiful maids. Loki looked back down at his plate and smirked around a large bite of roasted pork.  

Things were about to get much easier for him on Asgard.

The next morning Loki reported to the stables at dawn to clean the stalls and brush the horses before Thor arrived.  He was surprised to find Odin’s first son already there in the stable, grooming the horses and speaking to them with gentle words.  Loki startled in the table doorway and stood there watching for some time. Thor produced a carrot stick from his pocket and held it aloft, patting the mare’s snout as he gratefully accepted the snack.

“You won’t be able to groom any horses if you stay standing in the doorway like that.” Thor said, his tone teasing lightly.  Loki jumped and hurried inside. Coming to stand beside Thor dutifully.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“You can simply watch for now.  I like to tend to my horses myself, so I know that they are being taken care of properly.”

Loki lifted his eyebrows.  “So then,” he began slowly, “why do you want my help?”

Thor grumbled softly under his breath, patting his horse down roughly with a dandy brush.  “I have seen the way you are mistreated by the palace staff. My father would have you scrubbing toilets and servicing soldiers in the palace bathrooms.  Wouldn’t you rather spend your time out here, in the sun with the horses and with me where you are safe?”

Loki frowned and muttered.  “I do not know yet if I am safe with you.”

Thor laughed softly.  “You are, trust me. Now go find a shovel and get to work. Seabiscuit over there just took a massive shit.”

Loki went to collect a shovel and clean up after the horse.  His mind raced with thoughts as he cleaned the stall, his eyes settling on Thor as he moved around the stable with ease.  He must have spent quite a lot of time here; all of the animals seemed familiar with him, and perked up as he walked by. When all of the mess was cleaned up Loki set the shovel aside and leaned close to Seabiscuit.  He extended his long blue fingers to allow the horse to sniff him, then gently patted the top of his head. He smiled when the beast leant into Loki’s gentle stroking, enjoying the attention. He did not even notice when Thor appeared at his side, leaning over the edge of the stall and smiling that same soft smile he’d directed at Loki last night.

“Normally he bites when people try to pet him like that.  He likes you.”

“I am a very likeable person,” Loki replied easily, though he had to admit that he was startled by Thor’s presence.  How could one so large move around so quietly? “I cleaned up his shit. Of course he likes me.”

Thor chuckled.  “Plenty of stable hands have cleaned his stall before and he never liked them,” he said.  “Have you ever ridden a horse before, Loki?”

“No.  We never had these beasts on Jotunheim.  Some warriors would keep Bilgesnipe as hunting pets, but I was too young to learn to ride before I was taken.”

Thor was quiet for a few moments.  Loki continued to stroke Seabiscuit’s snout.  His fur was soft and Loki enjoyed the way that he leaned into his touch, not away from it simply because of the color of his skin.  He scratched his nose with his black nails and Seabiscuit snorted softly.

“I can teach you to ride him, if you’d like,” Thor finally said.  Loki lifted his head, his eyes gleaming hopefully.


“Aye.  But only if you are sure to complete all of your responsibilities here.  My father will have my balls if he finds I’m allowing his slaves to slack off when they should be working,” he said.  At the end of his sentence he even tacked on a little roll of his eyes. Loki smiled and nodded vigorously.

“Of course.” he said.  Thor smiled, watching Loki for another moment or two before he turned away to go collect the feed for the animals.  “Thank you,” Loki called after him, to which he received no response. He was left in the stall with Seabiscuit, smiling, and wondering what it was about him that would make Thor willing to risk his balls to make Loki happy.

Thor spent many weeks teaching Loki how to take care of his horses, and in return, he taught Loki how to ride them.  Loki was slim and tall, growing every day more beautiful as he aged from young adult to full fledged man. His hair grew longer and thicker, so that he had to braid it to keep it from falling into his eyes, and his heritage lines became more pronounced, so that all who looked at him could see that he was from the royal line of Laufey-King.  Loki felt Thor’s eyes lingering on him more and more often and he relished in the pleasure of the prince’s attention.

Thor was nothing like his father, Odin-King.  Loki quickly learned that Thor had not been lying when he said that Loki was safe with him; he never struck Loki, never yelled at him.  He was always gentle and kind. He was funny. He told Loki corny jokes and tried to make him laugh. Loki delighted in spending time with his new friend, and he was sure that Thor delighted in him as well.

His Försttöväder was quickly approaching as he reached the end of his adolescence.  His subconscious mind and his body were beginning to seek out a viable mate to share his his first estrous with.   As the date drew near, Loki was aware that his affections for Thor were evolving into something more mature than they had been previously. He could only hope that when the time actually came, Thor would return his affections.  He couldn’t see why he would not , after all, Loki was aware of how attractive he was and how Thor’s eyes often lingered on his body when he was riding on Seabiscuit’s back.  But he would still like to save himself the embarrassment of being rejected by Thor during his Försttöväder.

The seasons turned in Asgard. The bright sun began to dim from the sky earlier than usual, and the air took on a little bite. Loki relished in the cold, as this was always the tone of year where he felt most comfortable.

Thor complained incessantly about the change in weather. He moaned about how he longed for the sun, for blooming flowers and warm summer rain storms. Loki told him that he was being a big baby, and Thor showed him that his fingers were turning blue from the chill in the air.

“Hey, I kind of look like you now,” Thor said as Loki held his fingers. He gave Loki’s hand a little squeeze and the Jotunn prince blushed an ugly shade of purple. He pulled his hands away and stuffed them in his pockets. He went to tend to the horses, who needed clean blankets to protect their bodies from the cold weather.

At night, Loki worked on a present for Thor. He spun white cotton into a thick sweater that he knew Thor would love. He dyed it with red paint and used his Seidr to spin golden thread into the garment, in the shape of Thor’s crest. He stayed up all night to finish sewing the gift for his friend. He tried not to think of the implications this sweater would have for his relationship with Thor.

It was the first time he’d spun gold from wool since he was taken from Jotunheim 1200 years ago.

In the morning he waited at the stables and presented Thor with his gift. The smile Thor gave him was brilliant at first, until he took the sweater into his arms and felt the golden thread between his fingers.

“Loki…” he said sternly, his eyebrows creasing with worry. He looked distraught, and Loki felt his heart clench.

“Do you not like it?” He whispered. He was almost ashamed; of course Thor would not accept a gift from him. Though Thor was kind to him, he was still technically a slave. Even if he was born a prince, he was no mating match for Thor here on Asgard.

“No, I do. It’s just…” he frowned and took a step closer to Loki. “Where did you get this gold, Lo? If you tell me I won’t be mad. We can put it back and you won’t be in trouble.”

“It isn’t—“ Loki stopped, staring at the golden threaded sweater in Thor’s hands. He frowned. “I didn’t steal it if that’s what you’re thinking!”

“Loki, it’s okay. Where else would you have got it? Just tell me and I can make this go away, we won’t even tell my father.”

“Tell your father!” Loki screeched, scoffing at Thor. “Tell him what? That his nasty little Jotunn slave was thieving from his coffers? I have no need to steal from an Aesir to get my hands on gold!”

“Well then where did you get it from, Loki? I’m trying to help you! It’s a very thoughtful gift, and it’s beautifully woven…” Thor fingered at the sweater, and Loki could swear he saw the corner of his mouth twitch before it settled into a hard like again. “But you can’t just go taking gold and sewing it into clothes for me. People will notice it is gone and they will punish you.”

“But I didn’t take it from anyone!”

“Are you saying you made it, then?” Thor scoffed. Loki nodded vehemently, and Thor rolled his eyes.

“You’re lying right to my face! I can’t believe this, Loki. This wounds me.”

“I am not lying,” Loki hissed.

“Then prove it. Prove to me that you can spin gold from your fingertips like you say!” Thor cried. Loki growler, stepped forward and slammed his lips against Thor’s. Thor gasped, went stiff, then quickly melted into Loki’s arms and kissed him back. When they pulled apart Thor was panting, and he asked Loki hoarsely, “What was that for?”

“If I am to commit myself to a lifetime as a spinning slave in the treasury of Asgard, then I would at least go away having kissed the man I love.”

Thor blinked at him, stunned, and without another word Loki took a step away and lifted his hands into the air. From his fingertips he began to weave gold in the thin air. It sparkled and gleamed with his Seidr, and within only a few moments there were piles of gold strings at Loki’s feet, piling up on the stable floor. Thor blinked in surprise, bending down to pick up the golden strands and test them between his teeth.

“It’s true,” he said. Loki harrumphed, nodding at Thor. The prince looked at him apologetically. “I am sorry I doubted you, Loki. I should have believed you.”

“Yes, you should have,” he said sourly. There were tears stinging his eyes. Thor took a step forward and placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

“That you would share this secret with me… I am moved by the trust you keep in me. And I love you too, little one. For many years I have.”

Loki’s body bent towards Thor’s, his head tipped back and belly pressed flush against Thor’s. “Thor…”

He kissed him then, and Loki sighed and melted against him. Thor pulled away with a smile.

“We must tell my father.”

Loki’s eyes went wide. “No!”

“Yes. Loki, when he sees what you can do, he will have no choice but to let me marry you,” he reached out and clasped Loki’s hand to his, twining their fingers. “Your wedding skirts will be fashioned purely from gold thread and diamonds. And on our wedding night I will tear them from your body and have you, as I have wanted you for the last thousand years.”

“Thor,” he whispered, his eyes wide. He pressed his body closer to Thor’s and clung to him with his arms around his neck. “Why wait?  You can have me right now. My Försttöväder has arrived and I am choosing you as my mate.”

“Oh, Loki…” he breathed, his hands trembling as he touched the Jotunn prince where he’d longed to for so many years. Loki placed his hands over Thor’s, his long blue fingers a stark contrast against the pale skin of Thor’s arms.  Together they traced the shapes and curves of Loki’s body. Their hands traveled low, and Loki trembled as he and Thor fell into the hay together.

They kissed, their bodies surging together.  Thor’s fingers pressed into Loki’s body and he screamed.  His entire body shuddered, his toes curled and he pressed himself into the contact, wanting more from Thor.  His wrapped himself around the Aesir prince like he was his lifeline-- and truly he was-- and chanted praise into his ears as their bodies rocked together.

Thor tore away their clothes with haste, took Loki in his arms and kissed him feverishly as their bodies were joined.  Loki screamed when Thor’s cock entered his tight little body. He had longed for this for decades, and the relief of finally having it was almost too much or him to handle.  He dragged his fingernails down Thor’s back in two bloody lines, tearing the skin. Thor responded with equal passion, driving Loki into the ground with the force of his thrusts and zapping his skin with little bolts of electricity every time that they moved together.

They stole away for three days together in Thor’s chambers, with nobody allowed to enter but the chambermaids who brought them food.  They made love in every position and form that one could imagine until Loki’s estrous had passed, when they were both completely sated and too exhausted to continue.  Only then did they emerge from Thor’s chambers to see the light of day again, and face the Allfather with the information that Thor had discovered.

Odin did not react well to the news of what Loki was.  After a thousand years of longing and searching and waiting for the Golden Loom to come to him, he was-- to put it lightly-- very displeased to discover that it had been sitting within his midst for more than a millenia.

“Take him away!  Lock him up in the dungeons and give him a hundred pounds of wool to weave into gold before his next meal!” Odin shouted, the rafters quaking as he screamed his rage.  Loki’s body went tense, and Thor reached out to hold his arm firmly.

“Father, you won’t lock Loki up.”

“Watch me!” He seethed.  “Just because you let the runt seduce you with his tricks, doesn’t mean I won’t take what is due to me!  If he won’t weave me a hundred pounds of gold before daybreak tomorrow, I will behead him myself!”

Loki lifted his head and cleared his throat.  All eyes in the court turned on him in shock, including Thor’s, as he spoke.  A small smirk lifted the corner of his mouth as he said, “You would behead me, Odin-King, even knowing that I carry the next heir to Asgard’s throne in my womb?”

Chaos erupted in the court, and Loki smiled.  He had planned accordingly for this moment. He knew, as soon as Thor decided that his father would know about his ability, that Odin-King would threaten to kill him if he did not do as he asked.  The only leverage he could make against his own death was to impregnate himself with Thor’s child. He could feel the Aesir prince’s eyes burning against the back of his neck, but he paid Thor no mind right now.  If he wavered at all right now, he knew that Odin would kill him in cold blood.

“Thor,” Odin’s voice boomed above everyone else’s, and the court fell silent with a commanding wave of the Allfather’s hand.  “Is this true?”

He could hear the audible gulp in Thor’s throat.  A pause, and then, “Yes, it is true. The child that Loki bears is mine.”

Odin sneered at him, and Loki smiled.  He very carefully moved his hand, resting his fingers delicately over his belly.  He looked up defiantly at Odin-King. “So, when shall we begin to plan the wedding?”