Emprise [Fólkvangr End, Book 2][Loki Fanfiction]

Chapter Two - Spýtaeld

Author's Note: You people are splendid and I am terrible at waiting, so I figured, why not? This chapter is...well, it's a chapter. That is a fact. I don't know what else to say about it since I don't totally know how I feel about it quite yet. Regardless, I hope you loves enjoy, and I'm not going to say anything but like...*coughforeshadowingcough*. I hope everyone is enjoying the wintery things coming all around us. I for one get to walk through Christmas trees on sale on the sidwalk in NYC on my way to class everyday and nothing makes me merrier than that! Okay, seriously now, onto the chapter, and thank you again, all you beautiful people for ceasless and overwhelming dedication! <3

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Chapter Two - Spýtaeld, or Spit-fire

Well, this sucks. I am jostled again, a shoulder knocking the wind right out of me. I dangle uselessly over some brute’s back, legs and hands bound, gag tied tightly around my mouth. I try to reach out to Loki with my mind, which is clearly futile. I resign myself to staring at the hole in my captor’s pants.

“Put her down,” Frey commands and I abruptly find myself ass first on the ground. He crouches down before me and puts a smug smile on his face before he reaches up and pulls my gag away.

“Fuck you, you fucking smarmy ass smug bastard son of a bitch. I will tear you limb from fucking limb,  you motherfucking twat,” I spit and he doesn’t react much. He merely arches a dark eyebrow and continues to smile as he slaps me hard across the jaw. It doesn’t phase me much. 

“You’ve quite the mouth on you, my little spýtaeld.”

“I’ve been hit harder for fun, Frey.”

“Oh, I don’t want to hurt you, love,” Frey says, feigning innocence. “I...are you blind?”

“What?”

He sighs and then gets closer to my face, peering into my bad eye. “I said, ‘are you blind’?”

“I...yes. One eye. The one you are so uncomfortably close to.”

“How do you know how close I am?”

I stare at him, genuinely wondering if he’s that much of a fucking idiot. “Because, asshole, I can see with my other eye.”

“Right,” he says quickly, straightening back up to standing. 

“So...now what?” The lumbering bloke who carried me pipes up and Frey shoots him a look that could kill.

Frey sighs, itching his scruff absentmindedly. “We, uh...well, we hold them for ransom. Next in line to the throne and his betrothed?”

Loki snorts and Frey cocks his head to look at him, “Oh, I’m sorry, you were not being facetious?”

Frey stares at Loki with determined ferocity, but somehow falls short of anything truly threatening in the face of the God of Mischief. Eventually he turns away and strokes his faint beard. “I’m not jesting, and you’d be wise not to insult me, mischief-maker. I am not the fool you believe me to be.”

His eyes glint with some strange awareness that I don’t recognize and he looks me up and down. “Get your arse up, princess. You are and I are going to have a little chat.”

I shake my head and he grows impatient so he grabs me by the arm and hoists me to my feet, surprising me with his strength. But once I’m on my feet, I stand steadfast. “You’re not taking me away from Loki, Frey.”

“My word is with you and you alone, spýtaeld,” Frey counters as he gets closer to me. I can feel his hot breath upon my cheek. “You don’t want your fine husband-to-be seeing what I am going to do to you, now do you? Might not want you if he thinks I’ve soiled his goods.”