Chapter Text
As far as this situation is concerned, Loki knows three things with certainty.
One: his new and already favored blacksmith has been flirting with him. It’s subtle, but quite clear. And though Loki has been spending far too much gold on custom daggers and mail and bits of armor that he’s never bothered with before (as though any self-respecting sorcerer would wear it), Thor hasn’t even offered him dinner and drinks, much less his bed. Not after dozens of compliments, not after he’d had started wearing his breeches tight enough to be uncomfortable, and not even after Loki had enchanted his forge to maintain its own temperature totally free of charge.
But the interest is there. He’s sure of it. It’s just a matter of finding out what’s holding the man back.
Two: this Mystery Knight everyone’s aflutter over is tall, broad, and wears some of the most beautifully crafted armor Loki has ever seen. He’s only had the one glimpse, but it was quite telling, the fine details of his plate and winged helmet standing out like a beacon, and the fact that the knight wields a hammer is just too much for coincidence.
(Also, and most intriguing of all, Loki’s heard from three different young ladies that had had the good fortune to be rescued by him that all attempts to thank him with affection and special favors had been politely but firmly rejected. “He told me that my beauty was prodigious,” one had told Loki, still heartbroken, “but he could never love a maiden in such a way.”)
And three: provoking a dragon in order to be saved by a masked hero who’s secretly the new blacksmith in town in order to bed the new blacksmith in town was a terrible idea.
His new coat is singed beyond repair, and the burn across his cheek will probably scar, but it’s all for nothing so far. He’s been at it for an hour and a half at least, and he’d made sure to tell every person he’d passed on his way out here that he was going to handle the beast that had been terrorizing the little village in the hills, but no one’s even shown up to watch him work. (And everyone knows that the slaying of magical monsters has always been a spectator sport.)
It’s becoming apparent that Loki will either have to start making an actual effort and take out the dragon himself, or simply give up and try again later… but if he goes back to the city empty-handed after letting everyone know he’d meant to kill the dragon, he’ll look even more a fool than he does now.
There’s just one thing to be done then, he decides. But just as he pushes his sleeves back and begins to call up an almighty blast of ice, the dragon lets out a pained bellow and crashes to the ground.
Loki stares for a moment, bewildered, until he spots the hammer embedded in its skull.
“Are you alright?”
And there he is, armor gleaming and built like a veritable god. Up close, Loki can see that his helm hides the top half of his face, but he’d know that beard and plush mouth anywhere. The sight of him is altogether impressive, and if he had turned up an hour ago, Loki might have even thrown his dignity to the wind and dropped to his knees then and there.
“What the hell took you so long?!” Loki shouts instead, and to his credit, his hero doesn’t retreat even a step.
“I’m so sorry, Lo—er, fair mage. I came as soon as I heard the tale. I fear you have taken harm while I tarried.”
The grandiosity of his speech is jarring, and a little ridiculous, but the way he reaches out to brush his knuckles over Loki’s cheek, just under the burn, leaves Loki a bit weak at the knees and his anger evaporating in an instant.
A few minutes or hours or years pass by while Loki gazes into Thor’s eyes, the blue of them familiar and lovely, but then he finally remembers why they’re here, and realizes just how exhausted he is. He’d planned the rest of this out, complete with the batting of eyelashes and offers of gratitude that ranged from innocent flirtation to outright proposition, but now that it’s come down to it, he decides to wing it instead.
“Thor, I know it’s you,” he says, then rolls his eyes at the way Thor starts.
“I—You must be mistaken. I assure you—”
“Just shut up and kiss me.”
And, finally, Thor does.