Chapter Text
The mead hall of Gladsheim was full to bursting, loud and chaotic with the commotion of several hundred people already celebrating the commencement of the festival the night before its official start. Loki, seated at the head of the table, raised his goblet for each toast, but took only very small sips. All his experience in handling this still didn’t make it a good idea to get falling down drunk before he began his part in the festivities.
A servant touched him briefly on the arm, then bent down to whisper in Loki’s ear that the last of the preparations had been completed and that all was in readiness for when he wanted to depart. Loki smiled and rose immediately to his feet. He always did enjoy this part more than the feasting and merrymaking that everyone else seemed to prefer.
The volume in the hall rose as people noticed his movements, and he spent several minutes bidding his subjects good night before he was finally able to slip away. The corridors were mercifully quiet and cool, the heavy doors doing their job at keeping the noise and heat contained within the hall itself. The same servant who’d fetched him in the hall suddenly appeared at his elbow, holding out a chilled goblet which Loki took gratefully, doubly so when he saw that the vessel simply held water.
“They await your pleasure, Sire,” the man murmured, taking back the empty goblet.
“I don’t doubt it,” Loki chuckled, earning a wry grin from the servant. “Thank you,” he said, and then turned, making his way to the stairs and the room below.
The slight murmur of conversation that drifted through the closed door stopped when he pushed it open, and the eyes of all the people in the room fixed on him. Loki pushed the door shut, threw the lock, and then turned to face his attendants. “Good evening,” he greeted them.
They returned the greeting with “good evenings” and “hellos” of their own, except for Sif who grinned and said, “Finally.”
“We have all week,” he chided her with a smile. “An hour or two is hardly going to make any difference.”
“If you say so.” She came forward and he embraced her in a tight hug. Of all the attendants he had, Sif had been there the longest. Not one of the original set Frigga had instructed, but she’d been with him for four or five years now. Most only stayed two or three years before they left to fulfill other duties and obligations, like marriages and starting families. Sif, however, was in no hurry to do either, and with her father allowing her the freedom to chose, she remained single and fit to fulfill her duties as an attendant.
When she pulled back, she turned and beckoned one of the other girls over. “Loki, this is Sigyn. She’s new this year.” The girl was young, and Loki suspected she had probably just passed her majority in time to serve here. But she was lovely, pale skin, dark hair and clear gray eyes.
Sigyn dipped a perfect curtsy, eyes downcast demurely. “Your Majesty,” she murmured.
“Loki,” he corrected gently. “Such formalities aren’t needed, not in this room.” Then he caught her hand gently in his and bowed over it, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She blushed—and, really, she was going to have to get over that awfully fast—but it was charming, and he saw from the look she gave him from under her eyelashes and the way she bit her lip that it wasn’t solely embarrassment that stained her cheeks pink.
“I assume you’ve instructed her?” he asked Sif, the question for Sigyn’s benefit more than anything else.
“Of course. And Fandral was more than willing to let us practice on him.”
“I’m sure he was,” Loki laughed, looking over at the sole male among his attendants.
The man grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “The sacrifices I make for my liege.”
“Truly a burden, I know,” Loki drawled, then shook his head. “All right, now that introductions are finished....” He did nothing more than hold his arms out to his sides, but the motion was enough to cause his attendants to spring into action. Sif and Sigyn came forward, the two undoing the ties and clasps to his robes, Sif then handing the garments to Sigyn to hang while she deftly unlaced the light pants he wore beneath.
Loki smirked at Sif for a moment as he stepped free of his clothes, but all she did was pinch him on the ass and mutter, “Incorrigible.” He chuckled and stepped away from her and toward the large tub, the water hot and steaming, fragrant with scented oils. Freya and Amora were waiting in the bath, both grinning wickedly, and he handed himself over to their ministrations with a smile of his own.
They washed him down with soft cloths and fragrant soap, their fingers kneading gently as they rubbed any stress from his body. The occasional pinch or press of lips or nip of teeth aroused him slowly, and he returned the favor when one of them moved within easy reach of his hands. He soaked for a long while, until the water finally began to cool, and then he rose, stepping out of the water so Sif and Sigyn could dry him with soft towels.
When they were done, he laid down on his stomach along a low, well-padded table, almost a bench, but a bit wider. He made himself comfortable, head resting on a small pillow, watching as Fandral selected a bottle of bottle and joined him on the table, kneeling over Loki’s thighs. He drizzled some of the oil over Loki’s back and began working it in with skills fingers, using a firm touch to seek out and massage away any tense muscles. He worked from Loki’s shoulders down to his hips, then up and down his arms and legs. Meanwhile, the women cleaned up from his bath, rinsing out the tub and removing the wet towels and clothes. The sound of them setting out other things drifted through the room as Fandral rubbed some oil onto his buttocks, long fingers sweeping down to spread the liquid evenly between his cheeks. Then with a rather impertinent—if light—smack to his ass, Fandral swung himself off of Loki. “All yours, Sif,” he called cheerfully.
“Thank you,” Sif drawled, coming over, Sigyn followed silently like her shadow. Sif seated herself beside Loki’s left hip and gestured for Sigyn to seat herself at Loki’s right. Loki turned his head to watch his newest attendant. Sif took one of the girl’s hands and poured some oil over her fingers, smoothing it so that Sigyn’s hand was liberally coated.
“Just like we showed you,” Sif instructed from behind him and Sigyn murmured her assent, and leaned over slightly to get a better angle. The first touch against his entrance was tentative, careful. Loki allowed it, for now. Experience had taught him that with an entire week of this to go, taking it easy in the beginning was for the best. Sigyn’s finger pushed gently until she had breached him was a small sound of surprise. Loki settled further into the table, letting Sif’s quiet voice lull him as she instructed Sigyn on her to move her hand, the movements dutifully following Sif’s words. One finger became two, and then they began to twist and stretch gently.
He felt the sudden jolt of pleasure as Sigyn’s fingertips brushed over the spot inside him and he groaned lowly. His cock started to harden and he shifted against the padding, rubbing slightly against the material. Sigyn stilled momentarily, but resumed at Sif’s urgings. Her fingers returned to that spot, stroking over it again and again. Loki moaned, hips twisting and rolling as she worked, rubbing himself almost to completion when she stopped, her fingers slipping free of his body. Before he could protest, something cool and hard was nudging at his hole, and he relaxed, letting them slip the slim plug inside. There were a few careful tugs to make sure it was seated properly, and then Sif helped him turn over.
Amora was waiting to take her place and she smiled wickedly as she ran her fingers up Loki’s erect cock. Without a word, she swung a leg over him so that her knees were planted on either side of his hips. She lowered herself slowly, guiding his tip to her entrance and then sank down in one swift motion, burying him to the hilt inside her. They both groaned and Loki slid his hands up her thighs so that he could grip her hips. He squeezed in a silent gesture, and held on as she began to move her hips.
The others moved around the room as Amora rode him, any sounds they made muted by Loki’s focus on Amora. She moved with abandon, teasing him as she pleasured him, the scratch of nails here, the pinch of fingers there. Loki was content to let her do most of the work, thrusting his hips up to meet hers. As well as Amora knew him, and with Sigyn’s previous ministrations, it didn’t take long to bring Loki to completion.
She braced her hands on his chest and ground down just a bit harder until Loki bucked up one final time, holding Amora against him until he finally slumped back onto the bench, panting harshly. Carefully, Amora pushed herself back up until she was sitting up straight. Loki felt it when Freya settled across his legs behind Amora. She snaked one hand around Amora’s waist and down between her legs, her other hand cupping a breast and rolling the hardened peak between her fingers. Amora grasped her other breast, twisting her head around so that she and Freya could kiss. Freya rubbed and teased Amora until the other woman cried out at her own completion. Loki shuddered at the feeling of her clamping down on his still sensitive cock.
The two women continued to kiss and stroke each other leisurely, until Sif finally shooed them off Loki. Fandral offered a hand to help him up, and Loki accepted, feeling pleased and sated and boneless. His attendants got him tucked into bed, and he reached out with one hand to snag Sif’s wrist before she could go. “Stay,” he murmured.
Sif rolled her eyes, but smiled fondly, stripping her simple tunic off before slipping under the blankets with him. He rolled onto his stomach and threw an arm over her belly to keep her in place. He heard her quiet chuckle, but ignored it, and within minutes he was asleep.
~*~
Since he had now arrived and was settled, the presentation could begin. The bard in charge of the announcements signaled for the men to begin entering and the crowd got its first look at the competitors. Loki’s first thought was that it was a very good crop. As always, there men from each hold, and this year there seemed to be a trend toward those with larger statures and physiques. Loki couldn’t help the small inward sigh as each man was introduced, his hold and heritage proclaimed. If one of the more well endowed men won, all the preparation wouldn’t simply be a pleasant way to facilitate the ritual, it would be a dire necessity.
Still, there were enough pleasing examples that he enjoyed most of the morning. The crowd seemed well-pleased by the offerings, and there was friendly talk among the jarls over who they thought was likely to place well. There were only a few competitors left to be introduced, and by custom they were usually the most high ranking of the field, those men who were of noble blood.
Loki couldn’t help his look of surprise when Thor Odinson was introduced last. Thor was a few years younger than he, and as children they had played together whenever the jarls visited or convened. Given Thor’s nature, he would have expected Thor to have entered the competition the first year he was able if he wanted to, and since he hadn’t yet, Loki assumed he didn’t wish the play the role of the Avatar. He looked over to Frigga and Odin, seated on his right, brows raised. “You didn’t mention he was competing.”
Odin shrugged. “He wanted to enter as soon as he was old enough, but we encouraged him to wait. Rarely does one win in their first year when they are that young, and he wasn’t yet mature enough to handle the loss gracefully. He’s mastered his temper since then and decided this year he would test himself.”
“I see.” Loki glanced back to the field where the bard was explaining the rules, though he doubted there was anyone there who didn’t know them. “I look forward to seeing how he does.”
Frigga’s smile was wry. “You’ll forgive us if we’re not very excited about it.”
Loki grinned back and nodded. Yes, he understood that feeling all too well.
After the introductions, there was a break for lunch, Loki stayed out in the stands, along with most of the others jarls and their families, eating food brought by servants while most of the crowd dug provisions out of bags and baskets they’d brought with them. The competitors were given food and drink as well, seated on cloaks and blankets as they waited for the trials to begin.
The first competitions were simple feats of strength, designed to eliminated those who would not last through the more challenging contests later in the week. Not many were cut from the field of competition—the crowd, after all, would need much to entertain them as the days passed—but it was enough to whet the people’s appetites for more.
The day ended early enough to allow for one more night of carousing before the truly difficult contests began. And while Loki stayed for a while, entertaining his guests as was proper, he’d spent a good portion of the day on the edge of arousal and hurried down to the ritual chamber as soon as he deemed it appropriate. His attendants were there waiting for him, and the door had no sooner shut behind him than Fandral was on his knees before him, working to take Loki’s cock out of his pants and then into his mouth.
Loki sighed as the soft, wet heat engulfed him, taking the worst of the immediate need off, and he let the others strip his clothes from him while Fandral attended to him with flicks of his tongue and gentle suction. As soon as his clothes had been stripped away, Fandral upped his efforts. Loki sank his fingers into his thick blond hair, clutching at the strands as Fandral swallowed him down, nose buried in the black hair of Loki’s groin. It didn’t take long before he was close, and a slight push from behind against the plug still inside him had him coming with a long groan.
Panting, holding on Fandral’s head to steady himself even as the other man’s hands on his hips helped keep him upright, Loki looked over his shoulder at Amora, who smiled smugly and pushed against the plug again, earning a small gasp.
“Enough,” Sif said, rolling her eyes. “The water won’t stay warm forever. Into the tub with you.” Loki tipped his head in acknowledgement and stepped into the steaming water. Having Sif made things go much more smoothly. She knew what she was doing, and had experience and maturity to take charge and chivvy the others into doing their duties when they might otherwise be distracted.
Under her watchful eye, Amora and Freya didn’t waste much time bathing him. Sif and Fandral dried him just as quickly, Sigyn standing off to the side, watching quietly, Loki’s next plug held securely in her hands. Privately, Loki wondered why Sif had chosen her. She was beautiful, yes, and eager to please, but her demeanor was unlike those Sif usually approved of and he wondered why. Perhaps he would ask her once the others had left.
They laid him back down on the table and again, Sif guided Sigyn through opening and stretching him. It was easier today, and in a few minutes Sigyn was sliding the oiled plug smoothly inside him. He sighed softly once it was fully seated, enjoying the pleasant fullness. The plug was still relatively slim, but in a couple more days, they wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable as this one.
Sif raised an eyebrow when he turned over and he shook his head faintly. She nodded and with a few wordless looks set the others to cleaning up while he stretched out in bed. When all was set to rights, his attendants excused themselves. “I want you to stay, Sif,” he said, turning onto his side and propping his head up on one arm as he watched them leave. The others grinned at her and Sif locked the door behind them.
She shed her clothes and slipped under the covers beside Loki, facing him and mimicing his pose. “What’s your game?” he asked.
“Game?” she asked innocently.
“With Sigyn. Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
Sif shrugged and settled down onto her back. “I like her. She’s a lovely girl.”
“I don’t disagree, but she’s not your usual type.”
“No, but she is the type that would make a good wife.”
Loki paused, checking to make sure Sif was serious. She was. “You’re matchmaking?” he asked in disbelief?
Quirking her lips in a small smile, Sif shrugged again. “You’ll need a wife who understands this and wants more than just to brag about getting fucked by the king.” She slif closer, pressing against him. “I don’t deny that this is fun, but you have other responsibilities to think of.”
Loki pursed his lips, studying her carefully. “I’m surprised you’re not suggesting youself.” He was entirely sincere. He’d always known Sif would make a good queen and had assumed that the question would come up sooner or later.
Sif laughed out loud. “Oh, Loki, no. Don’t get me wrong, we’re friends, but I don’t think we’d be entirely happy if we had to spend all our time together. And you’re my friend, but I want my marriage to be more than a business arrangement. You need someone like Sigyn. Trust me on this.”
Huffing, Loki laid down as well. He wasn’t disappointed. That alone was enough to tell him Sif was right. “It seems you’ve given me no choice.”
“Stop being dramatic,” Sif chided, rolling over to drape an arm across his waist. “Give her a chance. I’m telling you, she’s what you need. And if it doesn’t work, we’ll find someone else. Now go to sleep. You have a long day of watching attractive, naked men compete for the honor of fucking you.”
Muttering under his breath, he turned over as well to mirror her position and closed his eyes.