Brut Gold

Chapter 1 - Loki & Lia

The haze of the club seeped through the walls and into the lungs of every guest attending that night. The air was heavy with deep breaths and sighs. The music was so loud and deep you only had yourself for company; because no one else could hear anything you could or would be saying.

The large hall was dark, with vintage speakeasy furnishings and two bars that boasted to have every drink imaginable. There were private booths in the back that were separated by curtains of red and chrome. Curls of smoke could be seen wafting out when the curtains were pushed back to reveal secrets and obscurities.

Beyond that were the private rooms of the owners where they conducted their daily business.

The Odinsons. They were brothers from an old family, with ties to the royal households of Norway dating back a long time. With money stretching even further back.

Back here, the curls of smoke were thicker with lace and the music was replaced by the screams of people whom the brothers had deemed worthy of their attention. Good...and bad.

Loki had just collected his dagger from the body slumped on the floor. His second-in-command, Fandral, quickly approached him and handed him a handkerchief to wipe his blade. "Thank you, kommandør. Be a dear and dispose of the trash, will you?" Fandral nodded silently to Loki as Hogun leaped up to help him.

"Brother, if you keep killing them, we'll never find anyone to distribute our product," Thor said, with an amused grin. He sat with his legs crossed on the back couch, looking like a Pharoah presiding over his kingdom. His crisp white suit hung delicately along his muscular frame. Quite the opposite of Loki's leaner figure clad in an all-black ensemble.

"Well, if we started recruiting more loyal soldater, I wouldn't feel the need to kill them." Loki retorted.

Just then, Lady Sif walks through the door with a tiresome expression on her face. "Another one, Loki? I just saw Fandral and Hogun carrying a black duffel bag to the back." Loki could only shrug as he wiped his blade clean.

"There she is!" Thor yelled. "My wife. My heart." He held out his arms for her to join him. Sif pulls out her dagger and places it against Thor's throat.

"Did you have something to do with this?"

"Ooh. I love it when you're feisty." He says pushing the blade away from himself slowly. She swings it back his way, expecting an answer. "No, I did not." He sighs.

Satisfied by his response, she stows her blade and sits on his lap. Loki watches as Thor nuzzles up to his advisor-turned-wife, rolling his eyes at the blatant expression of love between them.

Deep down he knew he was jealous. Not of Thor, but of the connection he has with the person he found to love. But Lady Sif had always been by their side. She grew up in this life. She knows the harsh truths about sacrifice and gains. She was their rådgiver, their adviser.

Loki wanted someone outside of the chaos. Someone who doesn't know who he is and doesn't expect anything out of him but love and affection. That was hard to find in the line of work he was in.

He finished cleaning his daggers when Fandral opens the door and whispers to Loki, "It's done. Volstagg is driving it to the junkyard as we speak. The front of the house needs your presence though."

"Thank the gods. If I must stand here another minute, I might witness the creation of my future niece or nephew." Loki whispered back, making Fandral look at what was happening on the couch. He just rolled his eyes and followed Loki out of the room, leaving the two lovers alone.

Closer and closer, Loki struts to the front of the house. The music got louder. The air got thinner. And his heart raced faster in time with the beat of the music.