Loki: Game of Thrones

Chapter 62 - Sword Master

Sansa frowned at the black trousers, white blouse, and bracing corset that were lying on her bed, beside knee high riding boots. Were they going out? The thought crossed her mind like a lightning bolt, and Sansa began to dress herself. The corset actually did not tie itself like usual when she put it on, and Sansa was confused. She struggled with it, not being physically capable of doing it on her own. "Sansa?" asked a voice that followed a knock on her door.

"Come in," she responded, and Loki opened the door. Upon seeing her struggling with the ties of her corset, he approached.

"Let me help you with that," Loki said. Sansa eyed what he was wearing quickly: a green shirt, black vest, and his traditional leather pants and boots. His black hair was tied up, but his emerald eyes were sparkling as usual. Loki stood behind her, and began to tighten her corset. Sansa could feel his cool breath on her neck as he pulled on her laces, cinching the corset closed. Finally, it was tight enough to maintain Sansa's good posture, but not so tight that she could not breathe. "There. All done." Sansa turned around, and Loki appraised her, that look of approval on his face. "Your radiance outshines the sun," Loki complimented. Sansa smiled slightly as she looked at the elegant golden vines twirling on her black corset.

"Are we going someplace special?" Sansa asked, hope gleaming in her eyes. Loki knew she would be disappointed when he told her they were not going anywhere.

"Unfortunately I don't have anything so glamorous in mind for us," he explained, and Sansa's expression fell visibly. "I'm sorry, Sansa. I'm going to be teaching you something else today." Loki took her hand, and led her through the halls of the domus. Sansa glanced around, admiring the etchings in the walls, and paintings that were on the stone, not on the canvas. Finally, Loki arrived at a thick, oak door, opened it, and revealed a rather large, empty room. Pads were wrapped around the pillars, and there were a few on the floor. A few racks were against the wall, displaying weapons of all sorts: swords, spears, daggers, and fighting staves. Sansa felt her heart sink into her toes. Loki turned to look at her, and her eyes were wide.

"You're going to teach me to fight?" she clarified, and Loki let go of her hand. He applauded her, before walking to the racks and removing a sword from it. Loki brought it back to her, and extended it for her to take. Sansa took it and was surprised when it was actually light in weight. It was not like any sword she had seen. It was a thinner blade, with a more ornate hilt. Sansa took the actual blade carefully in her hand and started to bend it. It bent and when she let go, it rebounded back to its natural shape. Sansa raised her head and her eyebrow questioningly.

"It is a fencing sword. Lighter than a regular broad sword, but still maintaining the sturdiness necessary for doing a significant amount of damage. Like Arya's Needle, it was designed for a more precise form of combat; rather than the hacking and slashing I abhor," Loki explained. He walked around Sansa as she studied the sword. She swung it slightly, before glancing at him.

"I'm not Arya," she said decisively, and Loki snickered.

"I know you're not. And I'm not trying to make you Arya. I'm trying to bring the warrior that I know is inside you out, Sansa," Loki said, and Sansa looked at the sword again. She raised it and admired her reflection in the cool metal. "Also, if you decide to venture into the outside world again, I'll feel better knowing you can gut any man who tries to assault you." Sansa smiled slightly at Loki's point, before she spun around, leveling the sword at him. Loki gave her a look, and walked up to her. "You're feet are too far apart," he said, moving her feet closer together with his own. He also stood behind her, and put his hand to the small of her back. "The corset was left so that you might learn the proper posture for fencing. Slouching not only makes you look sloppy, it affects your grip." Loki put a little pressure on her back, and Sansa immediately stood up straighter. "Put one arm back here like this," Loki instructed, taking Sansa's one arm, and placing it behind her back. "It will also force you to keep your shoulders back." Sansa's eyes flicked at Loki over her shoulder. She caught a minty scent wafting off of him, and that his eyes were focusing on her pale neck. Sansa glanced up at him, and he looked back at her. "I'll teach you the basics, and where the places are to strike. You hit those places, no matter how big your target, he will come down." Loki left her side, retrieving a sword of his own from the rack, and facing her. He brought the sword to his face with a slight tilt of his head. Sansa did the same. "Salute!" With that, he sliced the air, and pointed his weapon at her. "Advance!"

Sansa stood before the filling tub in the washroom several hours later, and looked at her red hands. They were marred from gripping the sword the way she had. Her arms felt like noodles from wielding the blade around, and her thighs and buttocks were sore from Loki swatting her with his weapon whenever she messed up. He said it would serve as a sharp reminder of her mistakes, and to correct them. Sansa sighed as she removed her boots, and tried to reach back and undo her corset. She knew that Loki was being 'hard' on her because he wanted her to be able to defend herself should he be incapable of doing so. This foreboding thought caused her to stiffen. Was something going to happen to Loki? Did he suspect he would no longer be around to shield her from the world? Sansa shivered at that thought, before she growled in frustration at not being able to undo her corset. "Damn these laces! They've always untied before!" Sansa hissed, surprising herself with her language. A knock on the door announced that a certain someone had heard her distress. "Come in, Loki," Sansa said, and the god entered the washroom. Alfie jumped over his boots, and walked over to his mistress.

"Something troubles you, my lady?" Loki asked, a hint of amusement on his face.

"These stupid ties won't come undone, and they always have in the past!" Sansa said in an irritated tone of voice. Loki smiled and walked up to her. Sansa stiffened when he took up a position behind her.

"Allow me," Loki offered, and he began to undo the laces he had tied for her a few hours ago. Sansa bunched her hair up so that it was out of his way, and Loki admired her graceful, pale neck. Turning back to his work, he continued to undo the black laces that had been keeping Sansa in her corset. Sansa felt a shiver of electricity go down her spine when Loki finished, and began to wiggle her out of it. He pulled on both sides, moving them up and down until the corset was satisfactorily loose enough. Although, as he removed it, he saw that Sansa was not wearing a support piece underneath her blouse. "Ah," the god muttered as Sansa turned to face him, the pink creeping into her cheeks. Loki could see the faint outline of her breasts beneath the white material, and her nipples as they were once more free to breathe. Loki was still holding her corset, but now he looked down at it, and Sansa was surprised. She had imagined that if he got the chance again (like when he had bathed her after her first moon blood) he would admire the young woman she was becoming. "I'll leave you to it, Lady Sansa," Loki said without raising his head, and he bowed to her. He left the washroom, and Sansa stared after him. After a second, she smiled and began to strip out of the rest of her clothing. When she was completely naked, Sansa saw that her thighs were covered in light blue patches, bruises from the flat of Loki's sword. Under normal circumstances, she would have hated to have anything marring her porcelain skin; but since Loki had been trying to instruct her, Sansa let it pass. She climbed into the hot water, and began to scrub herself, pouring scented oil over her hair, and rubbing it down her arms. A meow made her look down, and she realized that Alfie had not left with the master of the house.

"Hello, Alfie. Enjoying the view from down there?" Sansa asked. The kitten cocked his head to one side, and his eyes were glowing green. Sansa smiled, not knowing that the glowing green eyes meant that Loki was observing her from his own chamber. He was lying on his bed, his hands resting on his stomach, and a mischievous smirk on his face.

I'll tell her about it. Eventually, Loki thought to himself, the wicked thoughts bouncing around in his head.