The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training || Loki x Reader

Chapter 25

You run without knowing exactly where it is you're looking to go...until you stop in front of the grand double doors and realize your legs knew where they were taking you all along.

Is this allowed? Scratch that, do I even care if this is allowed?

The answer to that, you decide, is no, not really. You knock on the door forcefully, and when you receive no answer, you repeat the action. This is it. This is how I get home.

He still isn't answering the door. "Loki?" You hike up your skirts a bit and kick the door in frustration. "Lo - "

"I don't know exactly what it is you're looking for, but I highly doubt it warrants destruction of palace property."

You flinch, but ignore the mild reprimand and whirl around to face him. "Can I go home?"

"What?"

"Lexi was nearly recovered, but she just left; therefore, she must have asked you to go home; therefore, it stands to reason that I should be able to do the same."

"No."

"Wha - but why?"

His expression remains stoic. "Lady Alexandra suffered a traumatic injury, after which she decided that she was ill-suited for life as a monarch. I felt inclined to agree."

"Okay..." You cross your arms. "I suffered a traumatic experience, after which I have decided that I'm not cut out for this whole queen thing. Please let me go home."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that."

"Why the hell not?"

"You have proved yourself to be an asset to the palace community."

"A few weeks ago, you told me I was only here as bait for the millions of stupid teens who wanted to be here!" you snap. "So forgive me, please, for being the slightest bit confused right now!"

That gets under his skin. "W-what do you want me to say?" he stammers. "That, what, I need you?"

"I don't want you to need me, I just want you to tell me the truth! What is so hard about that?"

"I need you here."

"I said I wanted the truth, not - "

"I need you here."

You stop mid-breath to stare at him. You've never seen him this agitated. His forehead is glistening with sweat, a soft crease between his brows; his lips are chapped, and you notice him clenching and unclenching his fist. Only his hair is untouched, immaculate as always, and you can't help but wonder if he's somehow magicked it to stay that way.

No. Stop that, you think. You'll have plenty of time later to contemplate the exact circumstances of Loki's freaking hair . You have more important things to worry about; namely, what the hell just came out of his mouth.

"You're just saying that."

He shrugs, almost apologetically. "I'm not."

You want so badly to believe him, but... "You're the god - the patron of lies. What reason do I have to think you've just now decided to start telling me the truth?"

"Considering I recently watched you defeat a pair of shapeshifting monsters armed with nothing but a salad fork - "

"Fish fork," you correct. Wait, what? Where did that come from? Based on the look on his face, you'd say he's wondering the same thing. "Um, sorry. Habit."

He rolls his eyes. "Armed with nothing but a fish fork, do you really think I would go out of my way to incur your wrath?"

"My 'wrath?' That was self-defense!"

He sighs. "It was a compliment."

"All right, all right," you say, shaking your head. "I'm sorry, I'm just...kinda on edge."

"I noticed."

"You still have the others. Six of them. Why can't I leave?"

He sighs. "Lady (Y/N)..." You glare at him, and he backpedals. "(Y/N), if it weren't for your actions a few weeks ago, Lady Alexandra, Margaret, and several others, including myself, would likely be dead today. I have no reason to send you away. And," he continues, raising an eyebrow, "I am confident you will not do anything to give me reason to send you away."

You grumble some form of agreement - you hadn't actually been planning to do anything to sabotage yourself, but still, the thought was tempting.

"Good." He nods, and walks past you, towards the doors, then sighs, and turns back to face you. "Please understand that I do not wish to keep you here against your will. It is an unfortunate necessity of the Choosing process; I cannot send away without probable cause."

"Yeah, yeah." You wave him off. "I'll see you at dinner."

He nods curtly, and shuts the door behind him. You're left feeling alone, frustrated, and...just the tiniest bit relieved?

Maybe I don't want to leave right this second, after all.