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Power	By : KissingtheShadows Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 14800 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire series or Thor movie series, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The old realm of Valyria was the most prosperous of The Nine Worlds in early days. Inhabited by people of silver and gold hair, fair skin and light-colored eyes, they were merely peaceful sheep herders. They made peace with the rest of The Nine Worlds but remained secluded. However, all that changed upon the finding of something living in the volcanic riff known as the Fourteen Fires. There, the Valyrian people discovered dragons. Monstrous, dangerous beasts, the Valyrians tamed them with magic, and mastered ways of training the dragons for war. The Valyrians loved their dragons, and their dragons loved them.
House Targaryen reigned over Valyria since the Age of Dragons. Its ruler, King Aerion Targaryen (or Aerion the Great Dragon as few called him), rebuilt the destroyed reputation of the kingdom following his father, King Daemon’s spiral into madness. The kingdom flourished again, he lowered the people’s taxes and gave them food, and their dragons were docile once more. He allied himself with the noble House of Odin, becoming fast friends with Odin Allfather, King of Asgard. When the Ice Demons of Niflheim invaded Valyria, the two realms stood together. Odin traveled to Niflheim to stop the invasion by the resource, while Aerion destroyed the attackers.
The Ice Demons and Dragonlords met on a field of golden wheat in the middle of winter. The Niflheim greatly outnumbered the Valyrians; their superior strength made them unbeatable. They cut down men like trees, froze them in place before smashing them. It appeared the day was theirs. They claimed victory over Valyria at the sight of the Dragonlords retreating into the mountains. They cried out in celebration; they made their way towards Valyria and The Dragon Keep at high speed. Though, their march was stopped by the ear-piercing shrieks coming from the mountain tops. When the Valyrians fell back, it was not out of fear of the demons. It was the fear of the dragons. Out of the highest mountain Aerion unleashed all three of his dragons for the first and final time.
The first was Vhagar. Scaled white and gold, Vhagar swallowed scores of Demons whole with a single snap of his jaw. Aerion’s oldest daughter Visenya, rode him into battle. The second was Meraxes. The color of emeralds, Meraxes swooped down over the armies and shrieked so loud weapons shattered in hands. Aerion’s son and heir, Aegon I, flew over the burning field on his back. The last and third one was Balerion, The Black Dread. Fire as black as his scales, he drowned the creatures in scores and acres of fire. Aerion himself rode this magnificent creature, wielding the sword- Dragon’s Tooth- of his ancestors in his hand.
The battle became known as The Field of Fire.
After the defeat of Niflheim, Odin and Aerion decided to strengthen the bond between their worlds. It made perfect sense given the friendship between Asgard and Valyria. Aerion’s youngest daughter Rhaenys married Odin’s son, Prince Loki in a seal of holy matrimony.
*~*~*~*
‘I heard the Valyrian girl is only marrying the prince because she’s carrying his child.’
‘Well, I heard it’s her brother’s child, not his.’
‘Ugh, Valyrians. Such a disgusting, pathetic bunch.’
‘No wonder they go mad.’
The handmaiden’s conversation surged a small rage in her. Loki told her people will talk regardless of your actions, so the best she could do was ignore them. Though, walking past the two women in the corridor, she could hear their whispers clearly. She hated them immediately.
Rhaenys stepped into the sitting room that night. A room walled by tall golden pillars, a balcony overlooked the vast silver and gold city, and a fire blazed in the middle of the room surrounded by sofas gave comfort to the Asgardian warriors occupying it. All her friends sat around the fire, eating and jesting: The lovely warrior, Sif elegantly sipped from her cup; the blonde Frandal gulped down cups of wine and talking with Volstagg, a large man who chomped down on the last boar leg, while Hogun sat in silence. The one she searched around for sat beside his elder brother. She smiled at him. Those green eyes of his lit up at the sight of her, a grin curling up on his pale face. They all turned their heads over to her.
“Ah Rhaenys!” Frandal called out drunkenly to her. “We were just talking about you!”
“Frandal,” Loki said, “Let us put this conversation to rest.”
“What conversation?” She took her seat beside her husband, sliding her arm around his and kissing his cheek.
“We were just discussing,” Frandal began, “Your sister’s marriage.”
Rhaenys paused. Asgardian marriage traditions were different than those of Valyria. In Valyria, they married brother to sister or cousin to cousin in keeping the family bloodlines pure. They considered ties between siblings stronger than strangers. Who better to marry than your own flesh and blood? Asgardians did respect their beliefs…though never accepted them either. She shifted in her seat.
“Perhaps we should-“
“-Volstagg and I were merely wondering why Valyrians marry their own sisters? It’s revolting; unnatural. Marriage usually means lying down with your wife. If Valyrians marry, that must mean they bed each other, and then their children marry and bed each other, and then their children marry and bed each other. The ritual is just not right, you see. You can only mix the blood so much before the children grow up to become completely insane.”
Rhaenys maintained her straight face. She merely observed the warrior as he talked. He slurred his words occasionally, but made his opinions clear enough. She hated how people disrespected her family based on past misdeeds. She hated how they felt themselves so superior to the mighty Targaryen Dragonlords.
“Frandal,” Thor’s deep voice warned him, but the blonde continued.
“I mean, look at your grandfather King Aenar. They say he was a total mad man towards the end of his days. His father and mother were brother and sister; his grandparents were cousins. Inbreeding leads to lunacy as the oh-so-honorable Targaryens have shown us.”
Rhaenys remained still “I must admit, my people may not practice the same marriage customs as you do, but we see the bond of marriage as important as anything else.”
“You wouldn’t have to lie with each other if you weren’t so bloody proud.”
“Frandal that is enough,” Loki said.
“Proud?” Rhaenys asked. The fury in her stomach boiled through her veins. “Pray tell, what makes us Targaryens proud? Is it pride to know your vast empire is the richest and mightiest in all the Nine Worlds? Even more than Asgard?”
“Frandal, Rhaenys,” Loki said, “Stop it.”
“We’re merely exchanging words, my love,” Rhaenys said.
“I heard your great-grandfather wanted to be King of the Nine Worlds,” Frandal said, sipping his wine, “He planned on conquering Asgard, killing Odin’s father, and taking the Nine Worlds for himself. He never even moved because Thor’s grandfather stopped them. He almost killed off the last dragon before Daemon surrendered…” He gulped the rest of his drink and held it out for another, “Your great- grandfather proved a true mad man. His poisonous dreams nearly led your family into ruin. The Dragonlords did not seem so strong when Asgard came knocking on their doors.”
“Why must you taunt my family, Frandal?” Rhaenys asked him. “Does our power and might frighten you? I quite recall the fear in your eyes when you saw my dragon, Rhaegal, flying high into the sky the day you came to Valyria with Thor and Loki. You cowered in his presence. You cried the sound of his ear-deafening roar. Am I mistaking your fear for jesting?”
“No fear, my lady, only facts is what I share with you. Your family may be strong, but not as strong as it once was-“
“-There is a story my brother once told me,” Rhaenys interrupted. “It happened right after my grandfather became king. Would you like to hear it?” When Frandal nodded, she began: “He said it happened many years ago during the Age of Dragons when my grandfather was crowned King of Valyria and Dragonstone. You must understand Valyria grew a horrible reputation with other realms in the Nine Worlds during my great-grandfather’s reign. He threatened allies, spurned their gifts, back stabbed, lied and cheated people who could’ve been beneficial to Valyria. They saw us as arrogant and prideful, but also weak. Enemies slew us in battles because my great-grandfather refused to release our dragons. We were the laughingstock of the Nine Worlds.
“We owned this one realm not too far called Ghiscari where the old Ghiscari Empire sat. Valyria planned on overtaking Essos as a part of its realm, but could not do so alone. They called their allies for aid, but no one came. Our need fell on the Ghiscari, whose duty it was to serve their king. Yet, when asked, The Warden of Ghiscari refused assistance in my grandfather’s quest. My grandfather pretended niceness with the Warden. He went into Essos with our small army and our dragons; he took Essos in a single day.”
She came closer, “However, when he returned, his work was not done. He demanded the Warden come to Valyria to act as witness of an alliance pact. Upon the Warden’s arrival, my grandfather arrested for treason. After days of prolonged torture, my grandfather had him escorted into the throne room in the Dragon Keep. There, he locked the Warden in a cage he suspended from the rafters; my grandfather gave the Warden a key and said it unlocked the door to the cell. All the Warden must do is find the lock somewhere on the cell, and then he’d be free to go. Do you wish to know what my grandfather did with him next?” Rhaenys’s fury slowly propelled her onto her feet. If Loki reached her hand, she never felt it. “He had pyromancers light a blaze underneath the cage…The whole court watched as the desperate Warden searched for the cage’s lock. His screams filled the room as the blaze lapped around him, burning him alive…My brother also told me that my grandfather said only one thing when he saw this happen.”
“What?” Frandal said, keeping his tone cool and calm, “’Burn them all’? ‘Fire and Blood’?”
“No. He said ‘This is what happens when you taunt a dragon’”
The rage in her gut came out like fire in a single curse; the wine cup soared across his face with harsh force. Red wine spilled all over him, trailing down onto the floor. Rhaenys did not care. She watched Frandal wince at his bloody cheek; the blood stained his slim fingers. She saw red forming on the skin around the injury. It felt good to see him hurting. It felt good to know he’ll be in pain.
“She’s just as mad as the rest of them!” Frandal pointed at her.
No. Not mad. Great. If Rhaenys could, she’d retreat to Dragonstone and summon the baby dragons they left behind. Then she’d destroy them all. They’d all drown in fire and blood. She released herself from Loki’s hand, and then stormed away. She heard Frandal asking for the guards to seize her, but no guards came after her. She continued walking all the way down into the dungeons.
When she first arrived in Asgard, Rhaenys and Loki were prohibited from sleeping together. So, Odin granted her a special bedchamber in the dungeons. Despite being a married woman, she retreated here to escape Asgard every so often. The constant warmth, reminded her of Rhaegal; the way his large wings encompassed her on cold nights. She crashed on a bed of black furs and white sheets; engraved dragons circled around the peaked ceilings above her (she had a feeling that had been Loki’s doing); a handmaiden stuck logs in the blazing fireplace for her, and set a fruit bowl on the table.
The urge to cry came stronger than ever in the solitude, but she restrained them anyways.
‘The Dragon never cries, and neither shall you.’
Though the tears came all the same. Rhaenys stuffed her face into the pillow while sobs scratched her throat. She cried and cried. She feared someone might hear her. She thought about everything: Her father, her mother, her brother and sister. She thought about the sun glinting off the walls of The Dragon Keep, the winds bathing her in fresh air as she flew on Rhaegal’s back. Almighty Rhaegal, a strong, noble beast whose flames burnt whole cities down. She raised him from an egg. She taught him how to fly, how to breathe fire, how to hunt and cook his own food. She gave him her blood; he gave her his.
‘Blood in you is the blood in me,’ she remembered.
She would’ve lived out her life in The Dragon Keep. She would have had Aegon’s children, raised them and taught them the ways of dragons. No. Not anymore. Her father sold her away like a common whore; he tore her away from the only life she knew. He forced her to leave everything behind. Yes, she found her happiness in Loki, but Rhaegal…they were truly connected.
The door opened, but Rhaenys kept her face hidden. She tried stifling her crying from the newcomer, though failed. A gentle hand rubbing her lower back soothed her.
“You’re warm,” Loki’s voice said in the dim fire lit room. “You’re always so warm.”
His fingers sent goose bumps all over her body. They were like ice being run up and down her skin. She shivered at his touch, which made him snigger. She will never adapt to those fingers. He bent down over her. A sweet scent faintly lingered on him; the fingers brushing her silver hair from her face felt oddly soft. She expected-after years of flinging daggers and fighting in battles-they’d be callused and rough like his brother’s. No. Loki’s resembled feathers. He kissed her cheek softly. A part of her knew he would come for her. Loki never left her alone in sadness.
“Please don’t cry. I never enjoyed the sight of your tears,” He said to her.
“I am not crying,” She said.
He brought her face out from its hiding place in her pillow. Concern poured through his eyes and into hers. Loki’s eyes were exceptionally green a hint of blue dotted in the center. They shined in the lighting of her bedchamber; they gleam perfection. She loved the look of them. She loved how he stared at her from afar. The day they met, those hues devoured every inch of her. Loki’s emotions were in his eyes, not his words.
“You should not listen to Frandal. He becomes a fool when he drinks too much…He can be quite hurtful.”
“My family is the greatest dynasty the Nine Worlds has seen and will ever see again,” She whispered. “We are loved and admired by our subjects. We are blood of the dragon. We are strong. We never accept the mocking of meager men.”
“I doubt none of that,” He replied.
“And I would be Queen of Valyria, Dragonstone and Essos if I had stayed in Valyria. I am a queen of nothing now.”
“You could be my queen…”
She opened her eyes, “What?”
“Were I ever to come into my inheritance, you would be my queen. Together we can make Asgard and Valyria stronger than they ever were. Everyone will kneel before you and your beauty; they will love and fear you. They will respect the Dragon Princess and her king. They will worship you just as much as I do…I love you, Rhaenys.”
She did not protest at the touch of their lips. He started with fluttering kisses, and then deepened by opening it tentatively. Rhaenys felt his hand stroke through her hair and hold her head in place as he kissed her. She rolled onto her back; his lips took full effect on her. One hand on her side, the other propping him above her, Loki’s hand caressed her side from breast to waist. They traveled down her waist, hip, and thigh before coming up to her breast. He snaked his hand over the fabric of her strip of clothing.
“You taste so sweet,” He whispered between kisses across her collarbone and shoulder.
They trailed down her shoulder to the tops of her breasts. A pulse went through her nether regions when he gave small affectionate nibbles to her skin. Rhaenys remained still as his hands tugged the red fabric under her breasts. He stared at them, taking one in his hand for a careful squeeze. The frostiness of his thumb sliding over the pad of her nipple made her bite her lip; a gasp emerged from her at the flick of his tongue and his mouth covering over it. His other hand stroked her thigh softly, and then rested right on her hip to fondle the skin underneath the frill skirt she wore. His hand danced over the skin of her inner thighs through the slit. She let him explore her body. She liked the feel of him on her. Her warmth and his coldness mingled together and created a sensual sensation she died for.
Rhaenys sat up when he leaned against his heels. He untied her top and then tossed it aside; her hands slithered off his vest, pulling off his shirt and undershirt, and untying his leather trousers. He embraced her with his hands descending toward her backside, going in the bottom half for a few squeezes. He rested her back down on her pillows and pulled off her skirt. His eyes feasted on her naked form; his hands slid over her knees and thighs, carefully spreading them apart..
“My God, you’re so beautiful…especially when you’re naked,” He smirked, resting between her thighs and kissing her.
She felt his hands skim her sides and grasp her. His member pressed on the inner part of her thighs just inches away from her wet folds. He kissed down the base of her neck in rhythm of his grinding hips. Her hands stayed on his shoulders; her legs wrapped around his waist. She gasped at the hand between them. His finger made her squirm at the rubbing of her sex up and down. The God of Mischief grinned at her frustration, encouraging it more with his finger. In the slippery wetness, the tip went around in circles, between her clit and entrance, and occasionally stopping in the middle. Her whimpers excited him, she knew. The brief brushes against him made his erection grow. She gave her own smile when a wiggle of her hips forced a moan out of him.
She grazed herself on his cock, enjoying the reactions he gave her. Rhaenys wanted him inside her, yet she’d never say so. This prince…this man…this Asgardian will beg for her. She will make him want her more than anything. Slender hands went up into his silky black hair, massaging and tugging carefully. While he stimulated her sex, she let her lips suck and nibble on his neck. She noticed the tugs on his earlobe caused great results. He rubbed himself on her now. His grunts said everything to her, though Rhaenys never acted. If he wanted her pleas for pleasure, he’d receive none.
She rolled him onto his back, seeing the flushed pale cheeks, love bites on his long neck and general look of lust in his eyes. Rhaenys never stopped. Her hips circled on top of him; she propped above him, kissing him passionately. His moans turned her on so much. The pulsing between her legs ached, driving her for more. Loki sensed this and began grasping her breasts again. His hands press just enough for the nerves to hit the throbbing. Their fused whines and groans signaled the other for entry, though neither took the first step. Rhaenys refused to give into him.
“…Rhaenys…” Loki whispered in their kisses.
“Yes, my love?”
He had begun speaking, but he tossed her on the pillows instead. Without consent, he forced himself in her. The first few times, Rhaenys felt stabs of pain between her legs. His length nearly tore her apart; cries of pain mixed in her moans. The sting must be apparent on her face, because the minute his pace became clear, he slowed down. He’d never show her how badly he wanted her. He’d make her beg for more. Rhaenys will never give him that satisfaction. She kept quiet for a time, simply allowing him to thrust. Though, soon enough, she found herself struggling to hold back.
She pushed her hips into his, seeing the bliss he desperately withheld. He pushed himself into her further; he hoped she’d give in and begin moaning out his name and imploring for more. Rhaenys kept her lips tight, her hips moving faster, and rubbing his soft spot: His shoulder blades. The feeling of her nails dragging across them almost turned out a moan. She only got a whimper. She giggled. She was getting to him.
Rhaenys pushed herself up onto him so he leaned back on his heels again. In his lap, staring down at him with her breasts at his level, she rode him in the same rhythm as before. He licked and kissed her breasts as she took him in and out. She trapped him underneath her. She rendered him incapable of doing any sort of motion. She only allowed him his hands and lips, which he took advantage. Soon enough, her nails digging into his shoulders, her head tilted backward, she felt him touching that tender spot. She bit her lip, wanting to stop but couldn’t. Something kept her moving.
Suddenly another set of hands grasped her breasts. Lips left tender kisses all along her neck and shoulder, while someone else sucked on her nipples. The duplicate Loki touched her softly as the real Loki used force. He knew how much she liked this. The real Loki whispered naughty thoughts in her ear; the duplicate carried them out for him. The duplicate caressed her thighs and hips. She felt his cock pressed against her; one of his hands reached between her and the real Loki and rubbed her clit in circles. He’d do anything…it worked.
Her orgasm came hard and strong. She coated him completely in her juices, bouncing on Loki now while both of him played with her. Her voice cracked merely screaming his name repeatedly the way he wished. The duplicate vanished when waves of pleasure came over Loki’s body, tensing his muscles and strengthen his grip on her. His last few thrusts took everything out of him, leaving him a sweaty, exhausted mess.
He laid her back on her bed, taking himself out of her in the process. The two of them stared at each other for some time. Loki’s eyes carried triumph in them; Rhaenys glared in defeat. He laughed.
“You cheated,” She scowled, watching him roll onto his back on the pillows.
“I wasn’t aware we had rules,” He replied. “Otherwise I would have broken more of them.”
Rhaenys slid over to him in order to escape the cold in the room. He produced a black fur blanket over them both. “I will get you next time.”
He chuckled, “Yes, of course you will my love.”
She couldn’t help but laugh with him. They kissed in the dying light of the fireplace; sleep slowly came over them both.
THE END
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