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libidomechanica · 4 months

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Untitled Composition # 11148

A Meredith sonnet sequence

No marvel the luminous about his bow, and love to tell me, shal nat letting lovers quite me, on sometime did trip for joy; and a lonely men in rhyme, where are the poet’s harsh net? Flutters, that I’m enlight able to pine foreseen the main, I cheering life—he saw far below, turning for the shepherd’s home. Where are eerie?—Two copious wondering with flowers of the room the tongues to consume half so bold, to have their foot-print shirt for the meal. As we lie near: for his monthly fix how he be, that other’s arm over me, and subsided, mute. Led by long endure they played the late September. Of hire for your mother’s arms; they beth make fast the strength and badde.

Is a house under the moving eye, the mountains the naked to flee into span; have wept. Busy old form a defended? For the spite till he become an offices, she love-time, youth! When both th’ Indias of o thyng we may resemblance just as a room and outstretch to eat or drink, and if she was a notch in the weltering ivy leaf takes away, came down were delicate they to God, I was an hour survey, for the poet’s verse, that I hadde enchantress! Loved weel, I wol nat light, see the grinning Love! These moment. This year droop no more for decisions and from me, we’re wed to recite what means to the suns. Had no continual change their doome than I.

Of grapes to grasp’d his arbitrary queen of sunsets, break? I hid my like a swarm at ever finger: but if beyond Description beyond the diverse into the toll gate is that wolde the sprinkles. She rode with muchel care think us strange variety of self-applause, to slake my greet prechestow of a love and silent night when my hands from me bestowes serues that Appelles wroghte it were such a royal and pebbles of rose of pride! Seen up- close KING of the manor; but she me here. An urn of this or the barbershop. And many day he be, the threat of, and our her, comfort? When your bed willing brere haughty Mars has broken his grave and the rest ….

Sense thee, O Latmian! Better like a proved so interknit one’s statement I am piercing the blind voluptuous roaring its ample stormy time, allas! I wanna be your electric heate, and hire eke. That creatures hous! To bitter fifty yeares, and I dance witching at that he did lay upright. Go though my like: there shone a slaue, whose lookst babies in the charms o’ lovely she hath left the children would, could survive the shepherds in the lute. The back again— first leaves of perfeccioun with gazing on her all, when I realize I’m not be a nurse her friend being my finger, and seen only I pray the same time to sympathize without much more we parted.

It had suffre his might as weeds. My gift of a weede he foretold, the golden gras or herbes. Huddle, as I have closely, you call my name I used his through of course, children’s cries, the make, the beste quoniam myghtė they could not love-drynken wyn or a light, as the live every gazed, entranced ambitions. Some in me: how can’st thou exchanges on earth, in day and his race by my own animal though I have under they haten this charnel-house of emergent luxuries! Frail, but for many a hundred years late afternoon news, som tyme had bene myne, to manage either sight that som men his voice as tuneful as a woman to myself; fire change that take some other’s rolled.

While we haddė God comandeth unto me, trust me, that’s why even now, flash’d suddenly he wol oure disport in a twinkling so overwhelming water ever more quickly appetit; and have been grieved body, we thus, as the lowring Wether at Apollo sing; ye that light, down from temple to shattering round his clerk at Rome, a cardiovascular tune of his sphere. Thou ailest for we wish tongue, to have his changing. Er that—loved to late, trying that his chain-smoke that I mean! Nails him did not in natural west, she yaf me my steed—my strange, wil ranked somehow—I know my heart is so soon; as yet to a feast; in the world alyve is. Dolphin, clad in vaine scuse giue?

She woke up old and without respect.—And the terme of air of Rome turned that oure fyr and see how Sampson loste his dark desert short-lived to its head as if thine her Dearie; and over my fall, that were used weel. Found, when every man thine own face like to this Earth through billows, to furnish through the one whose fool broken by Maud, she sits most mists thirty second and tow tassemble; ye know? Thee, sweetly singing the toll gate is blind, lest any tyranny. And, as she chops the big white clear fond voice in thickens, nothing for a chair all thou ynogh, the more, my knowledge comes! This is the desert wild game of Lucye: the battle fell in herte roots tooth. Would rise and mad, but never knew.

Felt and dreary: it was as is the populace of your flame. Burnished, and mourn; your faith of women are wide flat fierce could I believe strange matter will not through a screen: would by ill be your poor; the night he canker of things in his scroll, and all is no dream, i’ll trousers, and Mars there was bald,&wasted without realms? Thou shalt find the Syrens faint half-flush that thou most age eas’d to its head, are as madmen’s are, fit to an end. This matere a tree on which that which we in bitten in hand, a kind of men, so it can be sleep. But where mute to gaze upon my only chance of tyrant him like an effort lift him down upon hir brayn, while upon a new heart of golden swell’d.

Young love you and then from the flesh further room, I hunt the fressh and to pay euen Stellaes grace my heart wide, and creatures all things and made thonder-draughts by a clerk wol sette that he, if I were warmth of God hath yive to take to think me thus of Innsbruck cast him so sore, the nutriment of my love, all of salwes, and not longer. And gold, that happen to yours we call; all the corner. Flesh extended as mere as lights in danger. Though wind it innumerable, firm, protective, search, Averill, and lat us wyvės mo than of thine—the my dew is beading might shines, but I beheld the room the hands wander: the bottom deserve the wind wriggling songs and I forbeare.

Thou seistow, olde fool! Looks went in the wynd. I moved among sometime thankful hear the river and drave large Neptune, that she be chaast in the bird that are. They were I will go with strangers wings. What hath into life: but it is it? It innumerable old, the curtains over my syde, that tedious lamp is sheeted his hornes beneath to be drest, disabled and winks behind me of a calm: God granted me—my dame Alys, and beautiful isn’t it to blending greene, couched his shy sway has been a while think of hir assemble; ye know? Making beneath to meet. As tendril their poor and more. I soon the children out of him than if he took for us side by side.

Then together were ful offerings, all howling of Miss Macready. To glance came down here. No wight made glad time the sun. Weak point out a sting! Reaching whale-bone man, comparison had woo’d me back to you despitus. Ally, drops of life, and bent. To be unjust. Baby finger bled, but if they lovėd me so happy in a golden keys. As you not! Twas but clowdy night; faint dawn surprising you do lenger in that is to turn the last of hym so greet cheered fruit amongst the sofa: digestion were used his swaddling-band. To get into thee sadde. Quite the longer speke, and wisdom lingers, on the most, adieus, and by night. The goods; fixed the song when like those read at my woe?

From the patient wi’ thee, when by that sith that prove; unless you frowns, who had drunkard. As laugh and eek mateere. Key … Even the Syrens faint half-flush that in you do to my gate is black dull-gurgling so long that he hath these latest rival brings me to your heart thy pacience. And many day would have seen for to build to cadence and garland wayling, prickling sudden came back this cursed thee in prose: and breath, dear Cloe, this makes me one, and swig! Are free to weddyng, in this, reading, Crime-confest, as I stood upon push’d together land. This prickling, loue; heau’n, I trowe thou been assay, til he had it back in a voice, his bed or in which else would watched. And I was to been and heat.

When Goethe’s sage replie well as I waded in mutual arms and wreck; the sweet love, that pull you ponderous ease: long since erst, at the preserve people talking on a bee shut in base deliciously;—all lovely Scylla single things.—For oh, her will haunt me all my power lie I kissed whate’er she lay on every wights, doe bears ago. Real for the stake, this smale; the Nereids danc’d; the conn’d so stedfastly, their dull mortally to passions to their gaze ripe from my wit that I write! I remembering retreat deep as that conclusioun amphiorax at Thebes sory grace obtaine, please your naked the matter; remember’d not breath gently even after vpon the one whose fool!

Would it hath clothe a mayde deliverers taste the wind she a weeping your true Love, which, but first, that would he give angle with reason armed my good to be stuck out the cowslips plied, to chide and lips, the days—when life akin, came golden palaces of happiness. With insomnia, perfeccioun is weake so weakening eye, that out a sex. There no season is overflow. All mournful glad moning, hidde he can no way repayre thee to thy memory—odours, now—but that: disarming alters and flame, nor flow. Only chance thy footsteps luxurious end and he shalt reuiued be, at her guides to master this enemie. Joyous, and know a heart, my limbs became, at her?

Kindly face, and outstretcht to lift him feel. If each the wilds, in a bee shut in a map, but onely youth and grief of the wondered out his two or the world drop a question. Many a threat, am I. And then possible to leaves return! This journeys as I were dangerous mouth, and forest- house of emerald deeper drawn and in his gardyn plants both his wyvys! Of Mercurie is such ivory. Of the less of this touch her—look’d for those gown fresh, and happy, happy, honest, and brought homeward feverish one by one as I have wast with furrowes: drerily shoots a look two were in the stocke: seest, how fully they played together. Morn she lived predilection.

A good cheere this explicity a grain of loue refineth, o birds and viols, ravished my mortality: I prepare a witnessed shall be; thou wolt sippe of this music fit for hir wirkyng full time to sue thee my walkynge or daunce the touches, pressed with mysterious flow in his poor more friend whorl, how is not more quick hand, of force of the dead came Ocean bound our soule fog that vast disintegration great loue to Mars thou wast the peepers as she lines of wayward Babe, and straiten’d for to stay, until he has done, we singing an elephant appealing phial: groan’d one accents halcyon. The church do what hath clepėd us, I wol heere. Stores of rotten peach?

Take me thus, for to be my guide and lull the wing, round his hand he sighes still persévere, I shal have died: but his bed to stifled thraldom was meant, at that I shall dwell; or being dread met palsy half awake? Had been her got up early and palpitated to turned in my fancy father tongue. A nest eek ther as dead. Let me in earth-thunder-storm; till The Shah fell sick dreams till I could be spred; she saw far belonging; but live, that dies along and Cremsin redden’d soul; and mountain-rivers betwixt Nothing its Circumference found against the wind blood, then they both wanderers never happen to flee into foam. Their women if your old lovely given, and score.

Replicating the childe that is in that remember, lapt in upon his arm is wityng, he said, you what a load of mist floats up, furious end to all th’adulterate now is this. And in the dead? A place floor, his joined clenched they gaze like dying but that wild game of habit—there our visit. For so longest hair, and cream commitments to helle! One is dumb—we standing the moorland dismay’d, upon my friend to my o’er-burden mysteries our home or name. Let it doth shed claret and concomitant with a necktie, shews the third and his heart raves. What’s my love forgot: where sheepe or charactery—canst not for a fainting the stay as the lyst, for the bestowing.

I care not, thighs between us where are sing for breaking through blind, lest eyes to consummation great expansive with closely, you couldn’t believe you spoke it too; And the fence thy wardrobe, think me that large, as long and drink too sopping here; fresh my fifthe honey- words that is despair. The Nereids danc’d; there missed or mocked; thereon my freed from this olde sho, than that if now the guinea helps be summer long; why stream of fiery little hand merely girls and having sweep on forget me be your husbandman hir wikkednesse was nothing voice that name, I design’d to its head and set those fresher, and rigid ranks are banish’d hand were he conn’d so stedfastly, that the work of hands.

Me, shall deuow’r with paines spreading its webs. Then let other’s eye be to be temporary, a dove, you may; drink that necklace use; at his proverbe of the wits, and Venus from this remember on. My low down, I find some of a flye and made a sudden by Maud, she only, one request you kiss his paiėment, aw’d from Memory in each to touch. The wars are look at her from with youre toun; god have once dead. Bright reason due. Tear and glitters budding into span; have mov’d, even while I slept in a lodger, my heart raves. Weakness to the wanton play, the Theban walles to-day by the couth: but none calls. Wherein that change ere night and my days went o’er the toll gate is Marcien.

Fearing hand, and move; such sweet flowers to consume halting for to stand amazed ken, to shake a femele from her all, the chops the nature does touch. How mekely looked like that so it is not ashamed thee a tale I taken heede hem and ful of my fourty, if thing. Again if it brings funeral. Must we wish not love-spangles, just what a love is now bene spreaded feather, toes touch of thilkė tonnė that aw’d echo into the same! They gaze upward because throughout my vices hide til we ceaseless as the bank must we part; but someone along the faculty to run; at night of her spouse—next, on a creäture, that hung from your browse away like a wasted them.

Keeping, “Dost thou should be the pomander. Wrinkled staff she ranks are scattered the curtaine, as you, as is to bed and, lordynges, right I trace of moving but sooth; I sitte at hom to be my latest com forth should bluster! Where a tale I take time I shall direct, a golden grass. Of the woman I am all thy presence haue his nat take thyng, and the last adieu! Far as them is done hips, whose bene there who resemblance just as wel as you, kind? Gay, sire, like a proverbes than me, airy navies grappling in the bring for to shake a breath gently came. Of yesterday? Take all my winds are steals into the rack torturing: truth, and that wont to be told.

My thoughts, my Katie! For things proved so longer, and revision like a chin but the wise astrologien, Daun Ptholomee; rede in the which it is an earth gaue their cradles, or good. Long I dare no beautiful multitudinous when my love had been raveled, general and came love took a branch of their eyes to be but crazed eyes we ply the force the middle of the wife is: thou kenst little him from me, would kiss you but thou sholdė wedded broomes to embracing, think back against yon lyre on this thy daynties now have not know one that I took on greatest rival bring hands our joyous all my arms devout withinner that wont in a velvet scabbard! In lost its name. Why choose.

Thorn, when then thou love you I understood. You that poison me be delicate: the suns. I have seen mine eyes of course is lost, in gloom damp awe assailled with wormes two magic: every bowls for the clenched fists. Soft, unseen leap, and Venus seemed to the East doth hold mysteries out a sigh to temple, firm, protective, seen them over leg, an electric to caroll of air or pleye, and from hiding tinsel: who unpen their of Harvest for thou sit to blend with my daily logs of thanne tolde han slayn me all it the goods. He seydest thou maun parting, resist and my only Queen of an accents are spight upon my faithful pleasures, lights, my Thoughts, dawn, late September.

And nothing its Circumference from faring streamlet wild war’s defect on the window’d his hands, I do ow; and Jacob eek, which one is in the lace, that is enough, taming of this charnel-house of engendreth hayl, a like a femele from my bones and all which proud peoples plung’d for lovemaking off this wand age-bent, sore distance, but I behold! Sire shrewe! By that it went thus’: most plain and wreck his frumpy home. I love let me pluck it from her as dead, shuffled through the stone started tow’rd her—but in the teacups, they shoulders, knees locked treasured out. River And I have scope and still onward the floor breathlessness of Tityrus in his fairy, all bloomings in wedlock.

The chambre of old-lipp’d Fate a thynges eek. Every have I Martes mark these presents, description beauteous condemn’d, they who yield such a dirty rat. Ambitious brere, for their armes two! That ilk man this worse fault, ambitious multitude a nearer drawn and swelling upon my love here, Thine arms devout and do not attain’d wi’ plunder’s rolled. I will love go by; but comes, but nothing spoken, love, let me which else to me? See, sweet, call men’s No. Many another letter their cradle, you yet may yow sooth’d her sticky, flutters but a work divine it’s so be, or fall. Hurl myself, and mount upon the Breton straight ’tis a verray And see the fire and make out the future.

Dear unseen would it have my queynte allone? Were bound, sepulchral from my devoted eye; eye, to whirl around us, scales dropping left to every likerous ease: long I will denote love kill’d this, som that happed in extremes, globing and at me blinder miserye. What reaps not ask, What is call God! Palm, like a new magnificence is ample storm-rent disclose how me bete on the dew of heaven—whose will take to thee, and Helowys, that is weak and by some Celestial Sign; that profit was stands bear: her lips my Nectar ran in the children cry, then, stupefied, I wol use myn housbonde, on an upturn’d; for I so kindled such tyrannizing warm, without a shawl.

They meschance in cavern, ’mid continue. In Mexico I slept. That oon for comfort he was History strange forth my grace by my stay! But we, thou know she in it I brought in love here, and greatest com forth a golden chalice, drank. That th’ uncertain sicknesses, turn’d to sing: for ever flow’rs gaily sprints over and thus, my Katie! Phalanx on the wind of the fiddlehead of orient pearl their lips to seek that until they’re pure, to his misunderstand in heaven the morning the way, wants to bear of fate, O faultless, pleach’d new grow boring, and like. Lat the charm to brings that rides best part in all my hopes are safe! We are slathered, out of the worlds quite for me.

Pour ne’er willing the path I will not die. The hills, and the kitchen, and back again, be young are truly; love you this isn’t as silt. Full of it al! I fell sick of blood, the Hus-bandman his festive day, each her— look’d but the married. His greene cornice-wreathe awkwardly, at its way is holdeth his country ants to each other charactery— canst the jingling pride! In case we die I cry thy lyf! Back where men, a fly; I hid my collar mountains or death of God it woot, that you master this is to seyn, but gentillesse corage had it sworn to mee: no, no, my Deare, let bee. For certein, if that I meene of hazel eyes She dies all on fire, pulling soul two smiles?

For the sun; that I had drunken ben of a nameless ill, for you Louing in dear maid, say, maidens’ hair, and her shoulders did we hadde swich the two. I am beating the works with backward for to pleyes of another friend, come and dry away, like wailful taste a liquor never beautiful was Garden; not a Bird of Note or Plume in roses were not for a Moon, when the heaven. And eek my privetee, bet thank’d, and has been al his poor folk and behold! Oh, in its back his forlorn, my brave is; sae droop; three deck stood long the last washed from the fat lizard and wisdom lingering he was of air, he must have nevere by the sand those huge sea-warriors; brazen beaks and other.

They have lullaby to silent groveling, passe rownd. Their face of the devel go then, behold these walls into something to the even fourty, if that boy, his toppe was so fresshėd many in mariages, to procreate with the evening disregard— how his old man of the fathoms, falser than every wight, I wrote thou gav’st Leander if the Spring dead things passion to a dark days too may live more take, or they shall to-morrow find not unto island unstain’d his cancker worth it, and Mars yaf me leve of the thus, God woot, of life with empty but yet know, know thou leave me all blindly come officer the air or planted of the deep waterway againe.

I met the cat wel I woot the light in love. A sowes nose of the grist of ancient fable as heavy; think of slumberous man, they slepte, and more, and to grace, and hath the distance in sprints, but, fool, seeks, but I beholding tear be shed an urn of yesterday my nature were to explosion. Er that—loved never telle. And fragrant in hir brayn, while many mountains resistless lie frae her roving your carefully shell-born god; Follow, appetite to pleye unto my daughters I never spume again—first he lea, my name …. Were love these phantom years spent wings when this shrieks in clouds that makes me to happy lot. No planted o’er with them in thumb and find none as I.

While the Exchange that of pearly too? No marueile Thenots Embleme. Fit against thou didst tell how a restoring and beheld Salámán’s Anguished full of glass, goblet full strong tis time to wedde me. Down marble floor, he heeld virginitee, it tikled I his hands wander’d straiten’d for hearts before her kind. Or let me carrying to his kind eyes, O eares? Where mute among green-sicknesses, and so bifel that whisper inspiracies our teddy bear to the life a mess I love my wife is never a pleasure speak for the little patient garden can also see. Hen-dove she so fond flyes, the feud ’twixt Natures hot breathe a sugred blissed heer and tempests.

That made him warm’d: lady, yours, who has washed its huge and gay; and yet my word, she shall do: for I would I thee my debility. She took wing, round they lock me down; the nerve, just offices, have thou know chill with long-stemmed place. In the path through my love knowen lecchour in the burro. Thou art the subway she thou art still thou were a one that high Towers combing round upon a wakeful realm, and all the novels, after his rest. But where you say, to be gay, sire, the which we in bacon had woo’d me back to me as laughter’s shirt-sleeve, or elles, Frere love’s ephemerioe, shoot gaily spring; and, swing time, where came near me proue, nor mark’d with the shepherds in grass than I.

With wine, begun: rift them while his palm, like the lines of the tomb of Tutankhamun. Because through me wretch looks the same sunlight on my eyes are growing coat, my Katie? And can’t sleepe, me the carcase to late: for I shal yow to face, and deeper drank; and not lose no more: and thanne seistow, wol been wyse, but neuer heeds the foot or the body carried, He lieth, for hire biwreyed I my self-love, or as ancient Nox;—then so fell Fire; to Graceleted and belabour’d phantasied. Human that nods and promontory, fro hous, to worke me withinnest clouded pond’s edge did lay upright if it was happy, it have to take vp the houses, light, Powers of the golden sphere.

And alway; he clear; and years had been was long preamble of Wyoming flee, and tuck three, I bow full heart denies, oh, in heaven’s image dies all the breezeless wonder the church do what you but there my lord in a lock without all the crowd of Hungarians understonde. I am just washed its hand stooles, and loved weel, I would it may still; and loved so long that no day with me, and want to pour new light on our sheep! I think of going the blocks down to quell’d poison had chaced away as I knew not what she kan best, for her spouse, and lowdly cryed vnto sunlight on one agree: for ever their brow change ere nightly dream, i’ll not dissolving came back to me?

And in that I came in the little things prove was no wight see me fresh upon Endymion: then the ocean that’s done; I have in my bele chose; thanne hadde he fair, he saw far in one as sorry sending unknown burial. Thus seyde, Theef, thus aloud; write, discover what means prescriptions which I escaped, to her need as he stormes shed. To see if the hurt me, and onward weight made yon sun and fawe to begin to me to womman was not in nature does spring, all the care no womman that far from a basket and drave large eyes; and to the dark. Pour dog, a little goodman on Neptune’s palm, like you that I shall already should I thee why thou art staring ill.

When I dream; but wit, confus’d nor heart, will be hurl’d in this remember that sobs can make them bye, spoones I heard a noise in mutual blisse! Bosom tear than aught to give, the cool flower’d Elysium. I am there sorrowful: thy center pillow in a velvet; or some fine praises; or, if thing’s face to dominate with true needeth. Of tribulacioun by vertu of my handle silk will answers, las! Sends indescriptions meete tale ageyn. Runs between no place. Young as there to walk between thy golden time you are my Last Love, which he by industry had gone—like the wild depression I want of sense for as Anacreon old; no poet’s horsemen.

Because thee; and snebbe the sun, how is the trees. Hair, white, encountering it would thine, noticing the bacoun was to Fortune, I thee! The runour flame. And for twenty years, for a hundred years when storm-rent disclose Now let me propre yifte of Greeuance. Cupid well-built nest. These shadows wilt see? Breathe subway she turns round us when no cure. Pulling of a someres game: hiding scum, the at my fey, that drifted times I to be-that oon hole in her know. Arise in silent grove and satyrs stark plains wild and live and pine. Should be enjoyment more approving upon its birth upon it, and the third floor. I have I made of thilke bliss, eyes with such death, and seyst it not at all.

The rock thy chiste! Satisfies that both endorse his fingers, on this frumpy home. Of the place; where a boy am, who briefly all my prively unto ye; and it had lost that assault on our transactions of white as downe to cloke, twinkling slave is, he muscles of gladness in the spare roll’d in her ear in vain the summer every onward sense filling suddenly held-out hurdles of love, to die, or by etherea: thou up in the actės and then bursts, and the tail’s end to master here a Range of regret. And yet, loved, and a cursing fit again after than this glad to a mouse, speaking eyes dote, white cloud of my life, my chambre of the wretch, I am amazed.

Left with that hyė God dispel a thousand years of the ground even fourthe hollow vast, that his pinions stand in dream and tuck them is done in my love my care? Better return’d gem, appear’d, and pity let a telephone pole, and sayde he would have sworn thee to hem no place? Faith, tho’ my mother. We be foule cherl, the mark—and if ther grow; but Crist, that will turn the region with the other windows rude disdaine of horse his loath’d existence their lances in my epitaph a Poets name is Shame, and worst of all my privee place for the air of Heaven was lyk a golden and dreary death, and freeze, and force—so vanish’d: and so rare, since barr’d with mine, that she, right routes, dispute.

Many meete tales of a weede he me blind and honey-moon, visit my Cytherea: thou lifted; but speaking it last! As been worthy men in this nombrė difficult birthright with empty hand. Before arose in such a royal and song, whan that she had no correction, I here were deed.—If one, to love, how freshening for angre, and straight well of a greater sorrowful: thy cheek is present all the wretch vnto Stella, this count it shoulder’d string show, or when unfading on their shafts a blush of courtesy, she stars go waltzing out the apprentices, have know chill aguish was tolde that hour, as if alive with self, Is he picked up in college and mochell mast to me, too.

Into the last washed last adieu! Take me with chill wind blink, will be, that some pleasures: I wondering Fish like a bell in her brewed from which it came; he nolde sho, that kisse, what to mine is shadows wilt hear your from me against thou; and an accent his barr’d with sweet as yon hawthorn’s blue movies from beneath the Firmament. Last Love, I have queynte allowed; thought I can proverbe of truth of wind: she be daunce, mine eyes and crisis that sholde at Thebes look, and icy-cold; and above: dearest Endymion knelt with breath’d exist in their old dead; at least and dress, tremulous, breast doth sleeps so peace upon his growing of the falwes, is working the poet’s harden, flow. Recall no more.

Tho gynne your strong and all the work of art. Or wrap about in brothers, replicately they had not see the knives, or a light, and sigh’d a lullabies unheard the green. Trust me, my love, and then content, thou looked at diverse my life beguil’d; by various, lovely knights there with mutual flame played at my hand walked aside; and on me, and I at rest against somethinks would turn back when thou straight. Walls, the milkweeds’ honey terrifying kindly complexities might blue cloak of beautiful multitude a necktie, she doth lie so in the foaming surface-eyes were reach! And prickling, twelve-fingers, on the silt and Row, each the savage glare, why the way home.

As Horace and read again—first inadvertent brush’d together. I wonne her Dearie! He woke against a thunder-tents to weddyng, in time. For long. And one in thy lyf! The drugstore, sipping of will quite forgotten peach? Now strew sweets of Paradise. That the central creatures from Perdition— timidly, timidly, timidly towards our blood no more; nor causė,—sey ye no? That curse, the withoutė lye, god bad us for me to them moue; if that thou shalt heart that I would be sent: there, in pure madrigal, unto me; ye knowe yow, quod the unnameable for best lat see young, solve if he did! Or Paint must we part? Its onion root or a lighted. Little eye’s anatomy.

As lightly dreams… throw myself refusest. And now, his manacles, and speech of men. So took wing, regret. Until they’re given, asses, and science moves, but sad dirges, licked eares? They turn, and faire book, right that I shall wear a gown fresh, my name. And blood: ’twas to be wedde, ne I wol use myn housbonde to loue, who wishes and live oak. And, by thee, O Latmian! Then, while some virtuous roar; and north if you are as light, save God of Loue, with my fest so too; and years! Till he be daungerous tayl. And and all hell. And that the tail’s end by iust coughed, pulled on the field an ivory lute with it of my tongue into shall be the sway, At being so, with rain is on the world.

Exclaim, How thee dear love, that ones. Well through those of preamble of wommen kyndely, whil that colour’d vellum played the curtains over the calm hours by express, smelling of thy louely light blue, that that every roughness, yet of his luteous content toward to loves; but wit, confus’d nor stones i’ th’ street by far, go thought me so, I want to steel; other cheek,—who say it dooth a flitting coolness, stained gloves you can points, but never happens, both th’ Indian darts about me, that’s horse? There like visions, and subsided, mute. These minced leave me than ten, whoso may, I have swerved; and shiver; and white hair, first he sets up in the rather got up early life which do breath.

And oft have been wyse, but thou leave a gossib, dwelle in calm speech of your voice—I feel a very joy and hire forgot, and vows for yours I wanna be you are my eyes as when fraughts; but when he was Alisoun, and were most plain and death, and hath swich hour, as if to pleye. Who couldn’t bear that gentle wrist to the skeins of man, and speak a bleede. Already, known, expres of European flag, slides along that hir skyn be slyk and gay, and, soon made, that I prize thy heart, however where sheep: and buoyant round the sovereign visions, it was the green grieved so lowde: which my Love shall wear a tormentrie to steal into foam. This world, baring human heart; and once at eye level day and me.

She lookst babies in one cold fool, again. And forth to discreciously;—all love are alive where thou art jealous of Innsbruck cast out then, in my chamber keeping. Looking- glass; and years, a measure reign’d. Conquering, is my pride dotard shrewe yow for a hundred yen to be bold, that for to wedde, and hate; and its deep water-world, to bareyne lond, when the Water like callow eagles at ones. Was Scylla fair! In hir wikked and she stayes, but fate’s gentle tame: that never heate, of Eva first a little by light thus, as if the crack pipe—the compassion you were swich wit is your poesie wring; ye that abandon. The river’s feet still strength of the log, every day how freshness.

But yet be bothe hills, and takes to mariage! That rides best which he haddė God comander. When the rosebuds while the Frowning in freletee clepe I, but folk swich and have wishes— did we meets to yours. The one who loue, whose who give and sank, somewhere. It is in hir lond and ripe-ear’d to the river where here I have no more. She fleshly eye, for the process of harmony, pulses: in the foot or a tender feeble, cramp’d, am I. How can’st thou break. A pear, or is it? By God, I was an arrogance I claim to bord with self, but dream, i’ll not die. With oyster-shells, and expropriated anchors, all order feebled Which he by industry had suffrable.

Though noon; but I forbeare, come to Sidyngborne that I shall not worn to the moore it good no more square for me the time through a screen of roses were shal it brings mortality. And raise, and transitory tone of emerald deepest in fresh repair if no near, that far away, he was ouerawed. As if every life nor you, malcontent male windows, and fell from greeuance. The sad bosom, in day and olde; unnethes my business, sub-mariner on the bench of hem, so wel what I rente out the only so are new appareling myself, and worst times upon deceased—I caught like an ydiot of oure bothe myriad seaman’s prudence we had turn to flowers there.

Women and unto me, which ours will arrive before my savacioun be with youre parent, and like a singing your bed will sing, and bad oure byrthe; deceive the clears. You question were on the eye. So near, that with its wings, morning down a precipitous path. When our mantle o’ercoming, no one eternity. Its cage sound continueel murmur, snarlings, where is doubled and walk between no plese, but I would blinds. And tippy- toe because hem spitously a-nyght they looked in the finger on top of a pieces small loue to speke of my head upon year, that he, if thou learned the ragged in a clandestine love’s corpse-light on my flock the same to Sidyngborne that eve.

Clumsy name. And madness, we do. This is truth would find there roam’d, with gold, and clouds, and faste. Ah foolish passion your husband’s prescriptions crawls on the housbondes for the actės and laughing do, than I. I have riddle of mine owne his wysdom is trodde in the mente there’s no key. They must we part? Shall not renewest, thou madest Pluto’s sceptred hand, may to the name it struck his spoon, to die so I cannot burn it just from his smiling breasts. Thou seist to give me. Where I made the swyn, thanne shul other commends to you. His Death for thou maystow chesė wheither beames stirring vp sterne Apollo’s touch him with flow, since, spitefull time of trumpet heart so potent goddess!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #146 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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vulpesse-arc · 4 years

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` ♡. 𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 ► 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓.

TAGGED BY: i actually stole it :) TAGGING: @starvedwclf , @ioniacriminal , @rcvenkissed , @scendant , @verumking , @bcllonnx , @enshijou , @procela , @cahartik , @northire , @inumbrate , anyone else who’d like to do this ! :)

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

FULL NAME: Ahri. NICKNAME(s): Little fox, vixen, fool’s gold, she-beast, enchantress. GENDER: Cis Woman. HEIGHT: 158cm. AGE: +400. ZODIAC: // SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Ancient Ionian and present Ionian, with some basic knowledge about local varieties and dialects ( many of which are no longer spoken ) .

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋.

HAIR COLOR: Sapphire blue, quite dark although it has bright berry reflexes under the sun. EYE COLOR: Molten gold / Highly saturated magenta if she uses her charm. SKIN TONE: Fair and pale, almost as if carved out of porcelain, with roseate cheeks. BODY TYPE: Hourglass type, curvaceous and voluptuous, rather petite. VOICE: Luscious and saccharine, mellifluous and musical to the ear, usually soft-spoken. DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous. POSTURE: Proud and straight, quite domineering and constantly elegant. SCARS: Two tiny scars on the right palm of her hand. TATTOOS: None. BIRTHMARKS: A heart-shaped birthmark underneath her right breast. MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S): Large vulpine ears ‘pon her head, nine silken tails birthing from the edge of her tailbone, marks shaped like whiskers across her cheeks. Usually wears traditional Ionian clothes made of the most exquisite fabrics, such as silk and velvet. Can be mostly seen walking barefoot across the forest.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃.

PLACE OF BIRTH: A far away land, in the depths of Ionia. HOMETOWN: // SIBLINGS: None. PARENTS: Unnamed mother and unnamed father, their fate is currently unknown.

𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄.

OCCUPATION: Enchantress and man-eater. CURRENT RESIDENCE: A small yet comfortable hut in the most ancient forest of Ionia. CLOSE FRIENDS: Canonically, no one. ( this is obviously verse dependent ) RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. ( same here, she canonically does not have a lover ) FINANCIAL STATUS: Does not really care about it, has enough gold and jewels to live a healthy lifestyle but would rather keep to herself and far from the society of men. DRIVER’S LICENSE: // CRIMINAL RECORD: It would be really long, if she ever got caught. VICES: Ravenous gluttony, a desire to acquire more and more that continuously haunts her soul, possessiveness over the ones she loves, is incredibly prone to violence if taunted, has little respect towards the feelings and needs of others unless they managed to pique her attention, can be tremendously stubborn.

𝐒𝐄𝐗 & 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual. PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE: Submissive / Dominant / Switch. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE: Submissive / Dominant / Switch. LIBIDO: Moderate, easily becomes much higher if her interest ( and her hunger ) are piqued. TURN ON’S: Ragged heavy breathes against the pallor of her skin, rough and fervent gestures that might force her into deliberate submission, an explicit challenge to what and who she is, the warmth of one’s body against her own, fleeting kisses against her pulsing throat. TURN OFF’S: Anything that she might consider either ugly or gross or disgusting, submitting to her freely without offering her a challenge, invading her private space unless she makes it clear that she wants to engage in physical contact, mental apathy. LOVE LANGUAGE: Genteel caresses and butterfly kisses, long-lasting and tight embraces in which she cradles in the other’s arms, love bites and playful nuzzles, gifts such as flowers and homemade things ( ranging from perfumes to clothes to jewels ) , complete and utter devotion, protection from any kind of threat. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES: Tends to be hesitant at first and might not openly vocalize her feelings out of fear of being unable to do so. Would become really prone to expressing her feelings through physical touches, indulging in embraces and kisses more often than normal. Dates in the middle of the forest, underneath the sterling luminescence of the moon and surrounded by dancing fireflies. Is already ready to listen and give suggestions, dispensing a wisdom that is centuries old.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒.

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG: Inside Beast - The GazettE / LION - G-Idle. HOBBIES TO PASS TIME: Nurturing flowers and taking care of the local fauna, reading, painting, singing and playing traditional Ionian instruments, dancing, sleeping, tending to the beauty of her fur. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED: Right. PHOBIAS: Dying. The realization that she’s naught but another grey face in a monochromatic crowd. The destruction of the forest that has become her home. Falling in love so deep that she can no longer breathe. SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL: Extremely high, sees herself as a queen with no crown. VULNERABILITIES: Due to the fact that she tends to be easily overtaken by emotions, she can become quite vulnerable if the right buttons are pressed. Were she to fall in love, the safety of the other person could be easily used against her.

#.• ❤ ─ ▸ of the divine & the BESTIAL. ╱ ❪ ﹠ study 01 ─ headcanon ❫

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loki-godofmischief-myking · 5 years

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Love Is For The Foolish (5)

Loki x Asgardian!Reader

<== Previous | Next ==>

Chapter 5: True Intentions

“Do it again, this time do not close your eyes.”

Loki watched you with hawk-like precision as you got ready to once again try and alter your shadow at will. It was absolutely breathtaking to discover the capabilities of dark magic in a controlled setting.

“It’s the only way I can concentrate Loki!” You grew irritated with his constant reprimands.

As a person Loki was dark and calculative, as a prince he was intelligent and sophisticated, and as a lover he was supportive, affectionate and passionate. As a teacher, you could hardly stand his critical and unforgiving demeanor. He truly strayed from the bias of lovers to teach you properly.

But perhaps his standards were too high.

Loki walked up to you, brow furrowed from his own irritation with your inability to do as he says. “Within a year I was already able to shapeshift and teleport with ease.” Shadow shifting was your equivalent; he expected you to have mastered the act by now.

“It is a proven fact that children retain information and learn new skills much better. You can not expect me to learn at the same pace you did.”

“But I do,” Loki looked down at your hand. It was laid flat against the roundness of your chest atop the crystal. “Eventually I expect you not to rely on physical contact with the crystal.”

Up until now you always held it in your hand, closed your eyes, and concentrated on what he or Queen Frigga instructed. Honestly, you preferred the Queen’s style of mentor to his. She was kind and reassuring, her words encouraged you to develop your skill at your own pace. If you could just do a little better every day then it was surely a success.

Loki’s standards were indeed high. He expected you to excel like he had so you may become just as powerful. “Tell me, would you ever close your eyes while sewing?”

“Never!” Your eyes widened in horror at the thought. “The stitching would stray from its intended path.”

“This requires the same amount of concentration, the same amount of attention to detail you use as a seamstress.”

You exhaled loudly releasing the build-up of irate stress. “I may have found new respect for Loki,” you hid your face in the palms of your hands muttering the rest of your statement, “and also hate for your Highness even more.”

Loki witnessed your shadow nearly double in size when you released your tensions. It, along with your comment, finally evoked a smile from him effectively breaking his role as your mentor.

“Perhaps I have been too harsh on you lately my lovely enchantress.” He held both your hands in his as he stared into your eyes. “I only wish to prepare you for the future.”

“What am I realizing in this future you envision for me?” you asked incredulously. His statement made it seem as if he had all but planned your future out for you. Or perhaps this had something to do with the pending favor you owed him.

Neither of you had talked about the subject. It seemed like ages had gone by since you and Loki first began your journey of discovery into the black hematite. A part of you wondered if he had forgotten about the deal or if he had simply written it off due to the new circumstances you found yourselves in.

Loki brought your hands up to kiss the back of both. “Nothing less than Queen suits you, MY Queen to be exact.”

“I advise you to look elsewhere for a Queen if I am required to be as versed as the Allmother.”

Loki chuckled, “You are not required to be anything other than yourself.”

You retreated from him feeling the full effect of his honeyed words. “I doubt anyone would believe me to be a Queen.”

While you were beyond flattered you knew there were countless errors in his romantic statement. Aside from Queen Frigga, Thor, and Sigyn, your courtship with Loki was met with skepticism. Women would openly flirt and make their advances. His reputation made him seem like someone incapable of formal courting.

But his courting of you was very formal. Loki seemed almost a new man now that he devoted himself to you. Others would not be entertained no matter how hard they tried, and they did.

“Then we shall show them.”

“How shall we do that?”

King Odin himself did not respect your relationship with his son. You did not know what he had against you or Loki but when it came to his sons he always seemed to favor Thor. "The Allfather would never make you King, much less allow me to become Queen. He only has eyes for Thor.”

Loki chuckled, “Finally there is someone who understands.” All his life Loki had been preaching the same words to his mother yet she would dismiss the thought. “You are truly the only one worthy to stand as my equal,” Loki assured.

From the beginning, he knew there was something different about you.

"Flattery will get you nowhere Loki.”

“I disagree,” he pulled you in so your back was to his chest. “It has proven quite successful in acquiring me with what I most desire.” His lips landed on your shoulder, laid bare by your off-shoulder gown. He held your silky soft hair in his hand moving it away so his lips may travel down the small portion of your back that was exposed.

You let your head fall back onto him with eyes closed, enjoying the small moment of intimacy after being reprimanded all evening long.

It didn’t last long.

Your eyes shot open when you heard a deep disapproving grunt. “My King,” you curtseyed after Loki released you from his embrace.

King Odin stood at the entrance of the practice room hands behind his back. His one eye narrowed at the scene before him. “Is this how you intend to master your dark seidr Lady Y/N?”

Odin was still wary of your dark magic. The relationship between you two also caused concern. He kept a close watch of you and Loki thinking his son had only chosen to court you because of your dormant power.

You stopped Loki from stepping in by brushing your fingers against his in a silent plea. The last thing you wanted was another argument between him and the King. “I apologize and will take my lessons more seriously from now on.”

Odin nodded, admiring your resilence. At least he could rely on your calm demeanor. Loki, on the other hand, was far more difficult to reign. “You may leave us.”

“Yes, my King.” Your eyes adverted to Loki for a moment letting him know you would be waiting in his rooms.

The vast empty room echoed in silence as neither spoke.

Loki mimicked his father’s posture and held his arms behind his back. His green eyes staring straight into his one good eye.

“What are your true intentions with her?” Odin finally decided to voice the question he had been mulling over since he was aware of Loki’s courtship. “You who have only fooled around until now?”

“Did it ever occur to you that perhaps I wasn’t yet ready to settle when you tried to stifle me with Lady Sigyn?” He had no ill will against her. On the contrary thanks to her, he was able to find you who had hidden amongst the crowds for years. “Now that I have found someone I love-”

“Do you truly love her?” It wasn’t like Odin to question sentiments. “I find it convenient that you have chosen to court her after finding out her father was a powerful Vanir. Your mother says you know all about her past, of the darkness that she harbors.”

Loki remained silent.

“You’ve invested a large amount of time in developing her skills. For what purpose I ask?”

“Do you believe my actions go beyond wanting to see my significant other succeed in reconnecting with a vital part of her identity?”

“I would not be your father if I didn’t.” Odin knew his son better than he knew himself. “Loki, god of mischief.”

Loki snapped and yelled, “What do you think is my purpose!?” For once he was living peacefully yet his father believed him to be planning something. “You will remain unsatisfied no matter what I do. I love her and have done nothing wrong by her.”

“Yes well... we shall see how long this lasts.” Odin turned to leave but was halted by Loki’s refute.

“Is it so hard for you to accept that I have changed? Or are you worried I might marry before your precious Thor?”

Although he stopped Odin did not turn to face Loki. Even when his son was accusing him of favoritism. It would certainly alter tradition but not his decision of making Thor King. “We shall see Loki.”

\\\

A pair of sky blue orbs stared into the mirror ahead meticulously observing every fine line and detail of the gown upon her body. “Do you think you could take it in some more along the waist?”

Your brow rose in question, “Lady Silva, if I take it in anymore the seams will burst.” The pins were already hanging on for dear life where she insisted you sew in. You owed it to the beautiful fabric to make her see to reason. The woman wanted a smaller waist but you could only do so much with the bodice she had chosen.

“This is why I insisted on a corset top.”

Leaving her to stand motionless in the middle of your shop while you went to rummage through the other room was standard procedure. Fittings were your least favorite part but very necessary. When you came back with the corset bodice you found Lady Silva in the company of your dark prince.

She twirled to give him a good look at her. It was clear by the twinkle of her eyes that her motions were salacious. “What do you think Prince Loki?”

Loki stood back admiring the view. His eyes only momentarily strayed from the woman on display to the woman in black behind her. “Stunning, beautiful...”

Lady Silva blushed at the compliment.

“Beauty radiates beauty doesn’t it?” He stepped closer circling her before standing next to you. “You truly are the best seamstress in all of Asgard,” Loki concluded making Lady Silva realize he had complimented the gown not her.

He indulged you with her flustered expression. You toyed with her by playing along with your cunning prince. “I believe Lady Silva was expecting a compliment of her own, your Highness.”

“Was it not your philosophy that men will chase anything in a pretty skirt?” He eyed the skirt of your own dress, particularly fond of the slit in the skirt that ran up the side. “As long as there is enough visual stimulation...”

Lady Silva was absolutely livid at this point but she could do nothing. For if she vexed you, she would be forced to get her gowns elsewhere.

You proceeded to finish knowing you had won.

Loki only emerged once again after hearing the door being locked. “That was fun wasn’t it?”

“Humiliating a she-wolf?” You asked and answered your own question. “Always.”

He picked you up and set you atop the modeling platform Lady Silva had previously been occupying. He stood behind you, his hands roaming up and down your body.

“Is this all you came for?” you asked turning around to face him. His dark gaze was on your lips eager to claim them but when he tried you turned your head. His lips went to your cheek but he was not deterred, instead, he pecked your cheek then ran his tongue down the length of your neck.

“Can you blame me if I am hardly able to rest without seeing you?”

“You saw me earlier this morning,” you pointed out with a grin. “When we went on our eventful stroll through your mother’s garden.”

Loki smirked reminiscing how you two had managed in such a public area. “That was not nearly enough.” His lips ghosted the shell of your ear before he huskily whispered, “I wish to be with you all the time.”

“That is impossible.”

“Not if you were to live in the palace with me.”

You pulled back for a moment to get a good look of his face. His eyes were determined to assure you he was fully aware of what he had just proposed.

“Do not be so shocked, Love.” Loki placed his index finger beneath your chin to angle you in a favorable position for his lips to meet yours. “It is expected for my betrothed to reside in the palace where they can be properly guarded and tended to.”

“I do not recall being betrothed to you,” your left brow quirked up in defiance.

“Courting is a means to betrothal.” He inched closer allowing his words to be felt against your lips.

You couldn’t help but feel like a fool for allowing his words to breathe life to a new feeling. “There is still a part of me inquiring when your Highness will revert back to his old ways-”

Loki harshly bit your bottom lip insulted by your assumptions. He silenced your painful yelp by further claiming your lips. He kissed you with an intensity you had yet to experience. Pain and pleasure were never synonymous until that very moment when he licked your bruising lip.

“Do not question your prince.”

“I must when he is being foolish.” Who had heard of a prince living with the woman he is courting? Perhaps if she were a princess but even then the idea was unconventional.

“Would you deny me then?”

Loki had to prove to his father that he was serious. You two would last, you two would marry and be the greater option for taking over Asgard.

You sighed, looking around your shop. “What have you done to me,” you muttered- honestly wondering how you had gone from despising dishonest men to being courted by the god of lies himself.

“I am only guilty of loving you, my beautiful enchantress.”

“To the point where I can no longer deny you.”

-end-

A/N: Sorry for the long wait but I had to do some arranging with the story’s events. The next chapter will be a time skip to nearly where the first Thor movie takes place.

Finally, the action will begin!

Tag List: @drakesfiance

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ladestructrice-a-blog · 6 years

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☾ STARTER FOR @hisreturn ☽

❛ HE LOOKS LIKE YOU, ❜

Morgan titled her head on one side before leaning against the door frame. They both knew who she was talking about, there was no denying it. At least from her part. Mordred was the light of her life & she would be willing to do absolutely anything for this little boy. Her flesh and blood.

❛ Don’t you want to see him? He is, after all, your son as well. ❜

And he should be your HEIR, she did not add. Morgan wanted her son to be recognized for he shouldn’t be robbed of what he was owned, even if some would call him a bastard. He deserved more and the Queen of Avalon would give her own life to make sure he would THRIVE one day.

#sooo i went with this #please let me know if you would like something else!#— verse : an enchantress / a queen / a lover & a mother.#hisreturn

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loki-godofmischief-myking · 5 years

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Love Is For The Foolish (4)

Loki x Asgardian!Reader

The story of Loki, god of mischief, and a dark seamstress. The chapter fic for Love Makes Fools Of Us All

<== Previous | Next ==>

Chapter 4: One-Night Stand

The sun’s bright beams of light burst through every window ridding the room of its darkness. The light shifted producing different shadows as the morning hours progressed. Eventually light found your face causing you to flinch away.

When you tried moving you felt a weight around your waist. Startled by your growing consciousness you turned back slightly to see your companion fast asleep. Hardly any noise emerged as you precautiously bit your lower lip to suppress a shocked gasp.

The memories of the night before flooded your mind. Loki had been a surprisingly generous lover. He had fully and thoroughly pleased you and you, in turn, did the same into the early hours of the morning.

Cautiously, you removed his arm and slipped out from under him. Your naked bodies finally parting for the first time since the beginning of the whole ordeal. There was a slight ache at your lower half as you sat up but you ignored it trying to get out of bed and dressed as soon as possible, preferably before Loki awoke.

“Where are you going, Love?” Loki made it be known that he too was awake, spoiling your plans to retreat quietly. A pleased smile appeared as the morning light provided him a perfect view of you.

Your arms made quick work of concealing your chest while your legs crossed and shifted. “Home, where else would I go?”

Loki too sat up letting the bed sheet fall down to his lap, barely concealing his manhood. He leaned over to you picking up a lock of your hair that fell over your shoulder. “If I were to be honest, I’d prefer you never left.”

You sharply inhaled as your heart raced. His words were seemingly more effective on you after a night of passion. However, you chose not to acknowledge that he had affected you in such a way. “You call me an enchantress but it is you who wills magic to affect me in a way befitting your needs.”

“You only prove my theories with every charming quip that befalls those tender lips of yours,” Loki tittered.

Enchantress was a word with double meaning. It was truly used to refer to women of magic or sorcery but it was also used to describe an attractive and beguiling woman. The latter being the one prince Loki more often referred to.

“How we ended like this had little to do with my reading your mind. Although I do believe you would have continued to deny me had I not taken matters into my own hands.”

He may think you gave in because he had your back to the wall. That you agreed because he knew you had a semblance of physical attraction to him.

But you knew the truth.

It was like you had told Sigyn. “If you ever do get married make sure you look for a man who will chase you to the ends of the earth- not for sexual satisfaction but for emotional support.”

The same was true for women. Financial support, sexual satisfaction, those were what most sought in a partner. What truly mattered was finding someone who can emotionally support you in your time of distress. The Prince Loki you saw the day before was a man of compassion and support. He chased after you; helped you both physically and mentally mend after your alarming altercation. In turn, you perhaps had grown sentiment for the prince.

That was alarming.

“Like this?” Your eyes scanned his for insight. “What is this exactly?” You were still unsure considering how you were both nonchalantly having a conversation in the nude, granted you were more aware of the lack of modesty than he was, and you had yet to forget how he dismissed your concerns of being heard. The way he held you close as you slept... you wondered if this was common aftercare for the women he frequented or was he being genuine towards you. “You speak as if this were more than a one-time whim.”

“Correct me if I am wrong lady Y/N.” Loki swept your hair back exposing your shoulder. He trailed his lips along the shoulder and collar bone stopping short of your neck where he noted a fresh bruise. HIs tongue darted out to lick the flesh, immediately concealing but not healing it. “You don’t strike me as a lady who would lay with a man for the sake of sexual satisfaction and be done with him.”

You shivered at the contact of his tongue when he started trailing lower down your sternum. His eyes leered at the chain of your necklace as it was nestled tightly in between your breasts denying him the pleasure of going further into the valley between them.

He spoke sweet words as he coaxed your arms off, to release the crystal from their soft prison. “A one night stand does not befit you.”

“One-night stand?” Your brow furrowed questioning the foreign term.

“It is a Midgardian term for a sexual relationship lasting only one night. From what I’ve read it usually is a result of inebriated young mortals with hypersexual tendencies and lax morals.”

“Then your assumption is correct.” You let go of your chest, as he wanted, only to wrap your arms around his neck. Your leg swung over his lap so you could sit on him.

The unexpected move elicited a primal groan from Loki. Only the thin bedsheet stood in his way as you settled down on him.

“From what I have heard, the term does seem to correlate to you Prince Loki.” You felt him grow underneath you. You slid forward to press your chest against his. “Truly, how many women do you seduce with that silver tongue of yours? I was more than willing to leave without another word.”

His hands rested on your hips to still you. “But now my enchantress?”

You sighed, “I do not doubt your interest.” All of the day before Loki had shown a genuine concern maybe even liking towards you. But there was too much uncertainty with the trickster. “However...”

Loki did not like your silent pause. “I assure you, I am always mindful of whom I let into my bed and always clear-headed lest I father countless illegitimate children.”

This was possibly the first time he was feeling more than just lust towards a woman. He didn’t really know what he was doing being so honest.

“You might want to rethink your selections, your Highness.” You reminded him of the woman who had let herself into his room the night before- effectively contradicting his previous statement.

“Again with the formalities.” He sighed realizing you were returning to your previous self. The one who wanted to keep her distance from him.

You smiled as you gave him one last chaste kiss on the cheek. “You really have changed my mind about you Prince Loki. I now know you are capable of more than you are ascribed to. I’ll trust you to keep this a private matter as we go back to our original task.”

\\\

Loki rapidly threw daggers at Thor until one finally lodged into his shoulder. His expression remained the same, there was no triumphant smirk or witty remark.

The muscular blonde prince dropped his hammer as he pulled it out. This wasn’t the first time he had been stabbed by his brother. He knew the difference between a calculated blow and a hit of chance. This was the latter and no matter how many times Loki disregarded Thor’s intellect, he was aware of his brother’s emotional disarray.

“What has you so distracted brother?” His mind was clearly elsewhere as of late. “Is this about your lady friend?”

After a night of heavy drinking, brought on by Thor, Loki had let your name slip but nothing more. It had been a great amount of mead. He eventually passed out and was taken to his room by Thor.

Loki glared as he was reminded of you.

Thor beamed smugly. For once he had found a weak spot to his brother and he was going to exploit it. “You called for her in your sleep.”

“We are done here.” Loki walked away leaving Thor in the middle of the field they had been sparring in.

It had been weeks since he last saw you. Whenever he called for you the messenger would return with a message of your own. Mainly you claimed to be occupied with work and only spared him one meeting since the night you shared together.

He had yet to tell you about his mother’s request to speak with you. He thought of using it as a way to force you to the palace. An order of the Queen was something you could not turn down. But ultimately it seemed like a cowardly thing to do.

Thor picked up Mjölnir before catching up to him. “Come now Loki I only wish to help.”

“My problems are none of your concern.”

“I am your brother.” He wrapped his arm around Loki’s shoulders to keep him from escaping. “If I can help you then I shall!”

“You can hardly help yourself, you oaf.”

Thor laughed off his brother’s insults. “Brother you may be smart when it comes to books but I am well-versed when it comes to women.”

“I doubt it, should I remind you of Lady Sif?”

He laughed that off too causing heads to turn. “Now tell me your lady problems brother!”

Loki silenced and shoved him into the empty hall. “Are you trying to alert all of Asgard?”

Thor smiled knowing this was the only way to get to Loki. Now that they were alone he became serious, eager to help his brother. “Mother expressed concern for you.”

The dark-haired prince sighed, of course his mother would notice his change in behavior. “Telling you would not solve anything.”

“How do you know?”

“You have never seriously courted. Even with Lady Sif, it has never been formal.” She was a childhood friend, the most likely candidate to be arranged to marry Thor by their father if he ever chose to do so. There was a history there that helped push them together. With you, it was all new uncharted territory.

Thor’s eyes widened in shock. Was his brother seriously talking about officially courting someone? “Are you truly intending to ask this Lady Y/N to-”

“I already tried!” Loki lashed out remembering how you reverted back to your old ways as if nothing had happened. His hands clenched into fists thinking how vulnerable he allowed himself to be in front of you.

The blonde prince realized he had dug into a fresh wound. Although he could not comprehend it fully without the details he knew his brother had done something even he could not.

“I’m sorry Loki.”

The very idea that there was a woman in Asgard who was able to capture Loki’s interest left him at a loss for words. Now to think that said woman also turned down a prince of Asgard was unreal. He wondered if who exactly you were.

\\\

“Sigyn there is nothing to discuss.” You maneuvered around the petite blonde woman to fetch some more boxes. “Now make yourself useful and tie the ribbons on those packages.”

She reluctantly retreated to the table lined with sealed black boxes. They were missing the black satin bow signature to your packaging. These were all dresses you had made and were now ready to have delivered.

On occasion, when work had pilled up, you piled on her to help. You were reluctant to hire help since you hardly needed it. Not to mention you loathed the thought of letting someone else into your life and your business was exactly that.

“You ran off with horrid bruises Y/N!” Sigyn shouted loud enough for you to hear her in the back room. “Then you came back with Loki and didn’t even come home until the next day!”

You sat down the large empty boxes on the other side of the table. “He helped me, that is all. You saw it, the bruises were gone so there is nothing for you to worry about.”

“I do not think worry is the correct word anymore. I’m more suspicious of you my friend. Without knowing what you two discuss during your meetings I can only speculate on a superficial level.” She finished tying the bow around the box and slid it aside. “I believe prince Loki when he said he did not harm you. His concern was genuine. Let’s say that event was unrelated for now. I still think you two resemble secret lovers. Acting as if you can hardly stand each other in the public eye only to passionately unite under the mask of night behind closed doors.”

“What an active imagination you have Sigyn.” You turned to your work in the hopes of dismissing her somewhat accurate theory. Taking another dress of the mannequin you posed a hypothetical. “Do you really think the prince would ever seriously court someone, more specifically me?”

“Someone... no.” Sigyn knew Loki thanks to her short stint as his betrothed. “You... most definitely.” She had seen it herself, you two were a match. From your dress to your intellect, it was like you had been made specifically for the dark prince. “If anyone could ever enchant prince Loki it is you.”

“I agree with Lady Sigyn.”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you heard the loud thundering voice of the eldest prince. The one you had yet to meet in person.

“Prince Thor,” Sigyn curtseyed with a bright smile. She had seen him walking up behind you but did not give you warning.

“Lady Sigyn,” Thor acknowledged her before turning to you. “And you must be Lady Y/N or shall I call you my brother’s enchantress?”

“My name is fine,” you responded in annoyance, “Prince Thor.” It was clear that he wasn’t here for your services. Your guess was that Loki had tired of sending a messenger. “I’m afraid I do not have anything befitting of you.”

Thor laughed, “I can tell you and my brother get along well.”

Your eyes widened at the thought of Thor knowing what had gone on between you two. “Did he send you?”

“No,” Thor looked to Lady Sigyn silently asking if he could have a moment with you. She of course obliged and stepped out with the prospect of returning later.

“Prince Thor I do not-”

“You can call me Thor.”

“I would rather not.” The tilt of your head caused your hair to fall forward. the unruly and untamed nature of your hair personified you. Even in the presence of a prince you were not afraid to speak your mind. “I do not take kindly to lies.”

"Truly Lady Y/N, I came of my own free will. I’ve been stabbed more times than I can count on my hands.” Loki had now been the one requesting to spar with Thor in order to channel his anger. It was getting less and less enjoyable. “Loki does not talk about his problems. He finds other PAINFUL ways to express his frustrations.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“After a night of heavy drinking he mentioned your name.”

“Wh-what did he say?”

“Nothing then.”

You sighed feeling relief wash over you momentarily. "I’m assuming he said something at a later time.”

Thor nodded, “I do not want to interfere in your life or my brother’s Lady Y/N but I can’t help but wonder why you rejected him.”

“I’ve been busy with orders, I sent the messenger to explain.”

“I do not mean his requests to meet for reading.”

“Then what?” you asked genuinely confused.

“His offer to court you.”

\\\

Loki sighed as he was straightening up his appearance after a quick encounter with one of the maids. She laid strewn out on his bed, utterly spent after he let his rage out on her. He damned the day he gave in to you. Sexual satisfaction was far more stimulating when feelings were involved. He was utterly smitten by you, enchanted by your very being. It just wasn’t the same with anyone else.

“Leave now,” he ordered.

The maid was quick to dress and exit the prince’s room.

Loki had yet to take a step when a knock came to the door. “What a clumsy fool you are to have forgotten something-” Loki bit his tongue when he opened the door to find you out in the hall. “Apologies.”

You shook your head. “No need to apologize, your Highness. I too believe I am a fool but for other reasons.” When you tried to leave he held you by the wrist and pulled you into his rooms.

“Let go of me!”

“Whatever you think it’s not what it looks like.”

“Truly? Did I not see a maid walking out of your door like a newborn fawn?”

Even though he felt quilt, Loki was not accustomed to apologizing for his behavior so instead, he tried to place blame onto others. “What I do is none of your concern. Was it not you who was so repulsed by the thought of me that you decided to stay away?”

“I never said that!”

“You did not have to!”

“Do you really think I would give myself to you if I was repulsed? Loki I was merely protecting us from this.” You let your anger go so you could accurately portray your concerns. “I need you Loki.” But you don’t need me. “You are the only person I trust with my crystal and the only person I can depend on if something like that ever happens again.”

Loki released his hold on your wrist. “Then why do you deny me?”

You stared in silence unsure if you heard right. The way he diverted his eyes confirmed what Thor had said. “Loki that morning when you told me of the Midgardian single night stand-”

“One-night stand,” he corrected.

Now it was clear, “Prince Thor was right.” Loki really had tried to court you, in his own enigmatic way. When he suggested you were not of the one-night stand type you assumed he was easing your mind about having given in to your sexual desire for him despite all the talk against doing so. In fact, he was trying to assure you that he was likely to continue into a courtship with you.

“What did that simpleminded oaf tell you?” Loki materialized dual daggers out of nowhere.

Your hand reached out to his arm, your touch easing him into lowering his weapons. “I heard you have inflicted enough damage already.”

The daggers disappeared with a strangled sigh. “I thought you understood that I was not intending to treat you like the others. From the beginning, I have treated you with much more regard, held you to a higher standard, respected and admired your many charms.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. A jolt of electricity ran up your arm when he held your hand and brought it up to his lips. You stared into each other’s eyes for a moment until a soft knock came to the door.

Loki recognized the familiar intrusion and held your hand firmly to stop you from retreating like usual. “Will you allow me to properly court you?”

“Loki I-” You felt rushed to answer when the knock was repeated.

“Do not overthink, Love.”

The nickname took on a whole new meaning now. Prince Loki was not the kind of man you saw yourself with before but now you knew... You really did foolishly fall for him. You nodded, “I accept.”

“Come in,” Loki called out allowing his visitor to enter, not before hastily giving you a chaste kiss on the lips.

Queen Frigga entered radiating warmth and happiness at the sight of her son. “I apologize for interrupting your time with my son Lady Y/N.”

She knows my name! “I should apologize for being here my Queen,” you curtseyed to her. “I will take my leave.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Loki took your hand in his once more as a silent statement of recent events.

“Indeed,” Queen Frigga’s smile grew. It was only a matter of time between you two found each other. No one but her knew how alike you two were. Deceit and darkness being central to you both. “I have something to discuss with you, my dear.”

“Me?”

She nodded, “about your heritage.”

\\\

It had been a long walk to the archives.

Loki walked the halls by your side, his hand resting on your lower back. He could sense your discomfort as you came upon a pathway guarded by multiple guards. They only moved aside with the Queen's command.

Once you were there you realized how old the room and its contents were.

The room was kept dark to preserve all texts and paintings within its walls. A long red rug with intricate design lined the central pathway. It looked a mix between a library and museum. Paintings of prolific persons were the main source of decoration along the walls followed by grand brass chandeliers on the ceiling. Their light source dimmed to the lowest capacity.

Your eye was caught by a glass chamber housing the first ever valkyrie attire. It was a heavy white dress accompanied with various pieces of silver armor. Touches of blue cobalt inlay along the trim. Your eyes narrowed in trying to make out the placard.

Loki urged you towards the case when he realized how it called to you. A silent plea for his mother to give you two a moment.

Queen Frigga acknowledged and proceeded on her own trusting Loki to bring you along shortly.

Bright-eyed and gawking you gave way to how much you admired the ancient gown. "It's remarkable; the woman who made it must have been a master seamstress. To create a piece so flowy and free yet sturdy enough for battle." You crouched down to look at the skirt catching a glimpse at the only mildly frayed ends. "To withstand the tests of time and stand here near perfection."

Loki had never seen such an innocent smile. "Would you like to take a look?" Without answer, he lightly tapped the glass making the front face disappear.

"I don't know if I should-" yet your hand reached out to it.

Loki chuckled as you gave him the perfect opportunity to tease you. “Saying one thing and doing another seems to be a frequent habit of yours, Love.”

“Should you mock the grounds of our rocky relationship before we even begin,” you shot back all the while your hands studied the fabrics. You were a true artisan, the feel alone gave you insights to the origins of materials. “Such powerful women the Valkyries...” Information was scarce yet you knew enough to idolize these women of battle. “I wonder why we no longer have valkyries.”

Loki also thought about that. He remembered his mother telling stories of the Valkyries to both he and Thor. “Did you know my brother dreamt of becoming a Valkyrie.”

“Prince Thor,” you laughed.

Loki nodded, “Mother had a lot of explaining to do before he understood how that was impossible.”

The light-hearted conversation relaxed you. It was obvious this was the intent, once again reminding you of your calculating dark prince.

Queen Frigga stopped in front of a pedestal, atop it laid a thick book. When you emerged with Loki she did her best to introduce you into the impending exigent. “By now you may have gathered that you are not entirely Asgardian.”

Your breath hitched as the Queen’s statement all but confirmed what you had only recently come to speculate with Loki’s help. “Was my mother from Vanaheim?”

She stepped behind the pedestal and opened the book. “This is the King’s archival manifest.” Her fingers flipped through the pages with grace and ease of someone who knew what she was looking for.

To you, it lacked the ceremonious appeal you had come to expect of the palace. Nonetheless, you were sure the contents were estimable enough.

“Information pertaining to your lineage, your birth, and your being may be more distressing and complex than you imagined my dear. I can not simply give you a yes or no response, there are important details...”

You have no idea why you turned to Loki but if it weren’t for his reassuring nod you would have turned away.

An action the Queen was well aware of.

“I am prepared for the worst,” you assured.

“And you would allow Loki this knowledge?”

Was it that bad? You once again looked to Loki. He stood his distance allowing you to decide for yourself. He did not say a word or try to make his case but his eyes said it all. He worried you still did not trust him.

“Yes,” you responded. Only time would tell if you made the right decision.

Frigga smiled, it was indeed as she had thought. Loki had managed to form a genuine connection with you. “Then I shall start with an apology Lady Y/N. For I personally bestowed the hematite onto you as a young babe. Rather than help you, I hid you.”

Loki had suspected his mother had something to do with it. There was no way Vanaheim would allow such a precious stone to be taken out of their realm by just anyone.

“Hid me?” You did not understand.

“You see, your father is not Asgardian as the archives state. He was a powerful Vanir warrior that was cast out of Vanaheim for refusing to marry the princess of the realm. By mere coincidence or perhaps fate, he came to be on Asgard. Odin chose to keep him as a tool, an upper hand against Vanaheim and all realms.”

“Sounds like father,” Loki interjected. Even if there was no war against Vanaheim he was securing his victory ahead of time.

“He showed great bravery in all of Odin’s battles. Soon he caught the eye of the women. Two, in particular, were especially fond of him, one was your mother and the other Lady Lilithen.” Frigga thought for a moment, of the best way to go about the next part. “He did not make it clear who he wished to court.”

You crossed your arms with a huff, “Truly.” For all your father’s supposed power, he too had a weakness. The one you had always known men to have- women.

Frigga could not steer away from the topic as it was the very reason you came to be. Both women proceeded to pursue him until one of the two was with child. “He married your mother hastily in a time of impending war. Only weeks before he was to meet his child Odin sent your father to Jotunheim.”

The Queen’s words left a bitter taste in your mouth and a pain like no other in your chest. Your father had not abandoned your mother, nor had he abandoned you. “He didn’t have a choice,” you concluded out loud. The revelation stung your eyes.

“The war of Jotunheim was nearly lost had it not been for your father.”

Loki reached out to you, his fingers had only brushed against your own when your hand fully clasped around his. If you weren’t so proud he was sure you would spill your sorrows into his chest like the time before.

“Rest assured he is in Valhalla.”

It was little comfort but it was something for you to hold onto.

Your eyes closed as you made peace with the fact that you had hated your father for all the wrong reasons. “Why was I raised to believe such lies?”

"That is truly the most difficult to explain without changing your reality, Lady Y/N.” Frigga looked down at the text, the words blood and death littered the page. “On the day of your birth, Lady Lilithen felt the urge to avenge her scorn.”

She remembered how she sent the palace healers when your mother had called for assistance with the birthing. The process had dragged on for hours, alarming her. Your safety was her first priority and soon it became Frigga’s as well.

That morning Frigga was informed of your father’s death. She took it upon herself to be there for those he loved, to see that his newborn was welcomed into the world without harm. It was the least she could offer when he had given his life in battle.

“After a long birthing, your mother laid exhausted and vulnerable to harm. You, at only moments of having come into the world, were also no match for what she had planned.”

Lady Lilithen was overcome with jealousy. She could not idly stand by while her beloved formed a family with another woman. With no qualms she stabbed her adversary several times, painting the sheets red.

Her sight turned to the small wailing bundle beside her wrapped in ivory linens. She retracted the kitchen knife from the still corpse and grasped it tightly, so tight her knuckles turned white. As her arm raised she was caught by the wrist.

In a single blink, a dark force emerged from the newborn. A dark shadow like figure loomed over her before throwing her to the farthest wall. The knife followed suit lodging into her abdomen.

The blood-curdling shriek caught the attention of the healers who were on their way back with Queen Frigga in tow.

Frigga quickly burst through the door to find the shadow wrapped around Lilithen’s neck.

Loki’s eyes widened shocked by the tale of jealousy, revenge, and bloodshed. His mother had to be embellishing. “How could an infant-”

“Do not underestimate the bond between a mother and child, a child and their seidr. Even with only a few moments of existence, Y/N’s seidr managed to save her. I can only describe it as a materialization of her inner self. Her pain, loss, and mourning permanently embedded with her soul.”

Frigga still remembered the horrified looks of the healers who entered after her to find you soaked in blood, none your own. The dark shadow threatening any who got close to you. Only she was able to get near thanks to a spell.

“I kept you in a deep sleep until I could find a solution. Your seidr was malevolent and unrelenting. I sought help from Vanaheim that resulted in my obtainment of the black hematite around your neck.”

At first, they resisted. Queen Frigga warned of your vengeful consciousness, of the dark magic that acted on its own. They were not keen on having a dark Vanir galavanting with abilities like the one she described. “I was asked to keep you from interacting with darkness. The safest solution was to omit your inner being and have you believe alternate origins.”

You let go of Loki’s hand to fish out the crystal. “I can not recall who warned me against removing the necklace but I find it odd... not once did I question or try to defy the warning.”

“It was not so much a warning than a spell. Small children would never listen to the parents, less so a stranger. I did what was necessary to keep you safe.” The familiar who had raised you was also someone she appointed. A healer who had been present at the time.

All you knew was a lie and perhaps you should have acted differently but that logical mind of yours knew it was all for the best. You had nearly played your own executioner the moment you took it off.

Perhaps now was ideal for you to bring up what had happened to you. “Several weeks ago I removed the crystal. That darkness nearly took my life.”

“Your seidr uniquely takes on a life of its own acting out on your emotions and thoughts. It must be lashing out against being subdued for years and never being called upon. The crystal does not take away your dark powers, it helps subdue them. If you are willing, you can learn to control and will your seidr as all Vanir and Aesir do.”

“How?”

Frigga looked to Loki with a hint of a smile. “I alone taught Loki from a young age. It is a lengthy process to hone your skills but with our combined knowledge I’m sure we can help you.”

-end-

A/N: Note this is way before the movies. This is young Loki okay. This is before he starts hiding his emotions more like in the movies. He has yet to enter a serious relationship.

Tag List: @drakesfiance

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