Anchors

Loki sat in his chambers thinking. His head just wouldn't clear from the thoughts chasing him. Memories. He rubbed a hand over his weary face and sighed. Maybe he would go to one of his hiding spots. Noone could bother him there... and maybe these damned thoughts would leave him. 

As he made his way to the stables, he could hear a low rumbling of thunder in the distance. 

Not now, he thought. I can't do this again.

He mounted his mare and began to ride. The wind was whipping up something fierce but he sent calm waves through his girl. She wasn't afraid of the storm. She sped up - like she knew his urgency. They flew through the vast green lands of Asgard. The storm was gathering pace and the thunder getting louder with every beat of his horses hooves. 

Leave it alone, brother. Leave ME alone.

As he arrived at the waterfall, he slowed. Big drops of rain had just began to fall from the sky and he jumped down off Hulda. She whinnyed softly at him.

"Good girl," he cooed as he led her behind the waterfall to the secret entrance he opened with a shimmer of green. 

Hulda walked slowly behind him and into the cavern beyond. As they walked through the dark stone, they emerged into a meadow with a small dwelling. Hulda had been here with her master before. 

"Off you go, Hulda!" Loki said as he let go of her reins and watched her trot off to a nice sized pile of grass to munch. 

He looked at the entrance. The storm couldn't find its way in here but he could hear the thunder still in the distance. It was getting louder. 

Loki walked towards the small cottage and set his bundle down. He had only had to bring some food. He had many items already here and, if there as something he had forgotten, he could always conjure it from his pocket dimension. 

He was exhausted from the journey and his lack of sleep the past few nights. He at himself upon the bed within the main living chambers. It was a small cottage - not grandiose by any means. Just a small main room containing a bed, a fireplace, a chair and table, a small stove to make some food and drinks upon and then a separate room with wash facilities and a toilet. It was a far cry from his room at the palace and those who knew of "Prince Loki of Asgard" would be surprised how happy he was in such simplicity. 

He lay back upon the bed and pulled a woolen blanket over him. He closed his eyes and prayed the memories would stay quiet. 

His calloused hand caressed his soft pale cheek. He leant into the touch. It had been so long. Too long. 

The other hand found the nape of his neck and pulled his face closer. Their lips, so close. Too close.

"We can't. We can't do this. It isn't right." He mumbled softly.

"Isn't it? It feels it." A deep voice answered as the hand pulled their faces closer together. 

Their lips found each other and began a familiar dance. Growing deeper and more passionate. Fierce. Bruising force crushing them together as the hand held him close. 

A tongue poked through his lips, eager to taste him. He allowed it. Let it caress his own. Norns, it felt so good. So right. 

He broke away. 

"We can't do this. There will be no going back. It changes everything." 

"It changes nothing." The velvet voice replied. "My hunger for you has only grown with time. I need this. I want this."