Loki: Winds of Winter

Chapter 1 - Westeros, 20 Years Later

The sun came streaming in through the windows of the repaired and refurbished chamber of the castle of Harrenhall. Tapestries hung over the windows, partially blocking the light. They were emerald green with the golden horned helmet symbol stitched into them. A fire was being made up in the corner of the room by a maid, who cast wary glances to the great bed on the opposite wall. Two figures were concealed by the fur blankets, but they would start moving any second. The maid quickly put the new wood in the hearth and left with her basket as the larger of the two persons sat up. The fur fell away, revealing a lean-muscled chest with a large scar going across it. Long, black hair fell way past pale shoulders in waves. A few strands of dignified grey could be seen at the temples, but otherwise, no signs of age could be seen on him.

Loki Frostborn, God of Mischief, Hand of the Queen, Dragonborne, turned to look at the graceful form beside him. Sansa Frostborn, formerly of House Stark, was still asleep beside him. Her flaming red hair was scattered over the pillow and Loki could see other signs scattered across her skin of their passionate time the night before. Loki smiled and leaned down, nuzzling her shoulder and neck with his nose. Finally, he planted a kiss on her cheek. Sansa groaned and rolled onto her back, her arm thrown across her eyes. Loki kissed her lips, pulling her against him so that she might feel his morning desire. Sansa raised her arm a little so that he might see a slit of blue that was her eye. "Good morning, my lord," she said, her voice thick from sleep.

"Good morning, my lady," he responded as he started to kiss down between the valley of her breasts.

"Well... last night wasn't enough for you, I see," Sansa commented.

"Is it ever when I have a goddess for a wife?" he posed in return. Sansa rolled her eyes for a moment before she moaned as Loki suckled a nipple. Sansa brought her one leg up and Loki pushed it to the side to open her up.

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed as he went lower. Loki growled, the vibrations playing havoc with Sansa's sensitive skin. Loki's own pale complexion gave away to the cerulean of his Jotun genes. Sansa ran her fingers over the raised marks on his back and Loki arched like a cat. She grinned. Twenty-six years of marriage given her plenty of time to find all the places Loki liked her to touch. However, that was when there was a knock on the door that was rather loud and insistent. Loki raised his head, his ruby eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Somebody already wants to die this early in the day?" he queried and Sansa pulled on his ear.

"No maiming or threats of maiming," she warned before she sat up and covered herself with the furs. She was just as annoyed at being interrupted as he was, but she controlled herself better. "Who is it?" she asked.

"It's Bronn, your graces," said the former sells-sword's voice through the door.

"Well, you don't want your pay this month, I can see," Loki hollered back, before Sansa slapped his shoulder.

"Oh, trust me, my lord! I want my pay, but we received a raven from Kings Landing. The queen, your sister, requests your presence for the counsel meeting today," Bronn informed him. Loki dropped his head to the mattress, between Sansa's thighs. She watched him with a raised eyebrow waiting for him to do something. And do something he did; she had to bite on her wrist to prevent the moan from being too loud.

"Thank you for... mmmmhhh... telling us... Bronn. He'll be along... ah! Shortly," Sansa assured him. Bronn said absolutely nothing and Sansa figured it was because he knew what they were doing and just wanted to leave. A second later, Sansa detected his foot falls as he walked away from their chamber. Sansa then collapsed against the headboard, throwing the fur aside, gripping the wood hard and watching as her husband ate her out. "You are... the devil!" she told him.

Loki raised his head for a second and said, "I know!" Then he went back to his feast.

Daenerys glanced over at her eldest son and smiled. Draegon had grown into a handsome, if not slightly lean, young man. His pale blonde, Targaryen hair was pulled back in a pony tail and his chin was clean shaven. On her other side was her husband, Tyrion Lannister. A little grayer in twenty years, but otherwise, none the worse for wear. The other members at the table of the small council were as follows: Jon Stark-Targaryen and Brandon Stark, Masters of Law; Oberyn Martell, Master of Coin; Lord Varys, Master of Whispers; Theon Greyjoy, Master of Ships; and Samwell Tarly, Grand Maester. The only person they were missing was...

"His grace, the Hand of the Queen!" announced a voice and Loki entered. His leather trench coat billowed out behind him and his hair was braided over his shoulder. His boots thudded on the stone as he walked to his chair, pulled it out, and sat down.

"Nice of you to join us," Daenerys said with a hint of a smile on her face. Loki gave her a look before he glanced over at his other family members and participants.

"Good morning to everyone else! Jon, I see they dragged you all the way from Dragonstone," he commented and the White Wolf of Winterfell nodded, running his fingers through his longer, curly hair.

"Yes! Although, unlike you, it took me a couple of days to get here," Jon said, hinting to Loki's teleportation. Loki waved a dismissive hand as he winked at Bran. The younger Stark boy smiled at Loki before his focus returned to the papers in front of him.

"So! You asked me here for the meeting. Something of import pop up since last week?" Loki queried. Daenerys glanced at Tyrion. Her husband grinned before he slid a parchment across the table and Loki caught it under his tapered fingers. He picked it up and saw that it was a report.

"This is from Elbario Saan. He says that he and Ragna are currently in pursuit of a fleet of pirate ships that have been terrorizing Freeman's Bay, and engaging in the illegal slave trade. They believe that they shall soon come upon them and liberate the slaves, however, there has been some concern of how to share what has been plundered," Loki read before he raised his eyes and looked at his sister. "I thought the terms of dividing had been covered loud and clear when Elbario took over for his father?"

"It is true that the bargain was struck and the guidelines covered in depth with Salladhor Saan, and the same was done with Elbario Saan. The problem is not with him, but with his men," Oberyn Martell explained. Loki grinned, leaning back in his chair and tapping on the table.

"You know my daughter will kill all who go back on the bargain," Loki stated.

"We figured she would. She does like to make examples. That's how she's gotten so famous," Bran commented with a hint of a smile.

"Hey, gets the job done," Loki retorted.

"Apparently, according to Elbario, the sailors are saying that Ragna takes too large a cut. We know that she gets sixty percent, and Elbario gets forty to split with his men. Ragna takes sixty because the crown gets twenty percent, House Frostborn gets twenty percent, and Ragna's private coffers get twenty percent. That was why the split was designed like that," Jon reminded. Loki nodded. Ragna was wealthy now from all her raiding, but that money also had a second purpose besides lining her own pockets. And everyone at the table knew what it was.

"We're just warning you in case we get another raven that says Ragna had to decimate an entire fleet," Tyrion sighed dramatically as he took a sip from a goblet of wine.

"Ah! Really? Would she do that just because she didn't get her cut?" Loki teased.

"Yes!" everyone said emphatically.