Loki sat on the elegant, golden throne with Gungnir resting in his right hand. His left forearm rested on the arm of the throne, his legs spread and the disguise of the AllFather upon his skin.
On the stairs that led to the throne stood the Warriors Three, the Lady Sif, the giant named Skurge and the blonde enchantress called Amora. Guards lined the perimeter of the throne room and in the center were the civilians who had requests of Odin. The trickster resisted the urge to grin. Two decades had passed since Loki had taken the throne in Odin’s place. Within that time, Thor had come back to Asgard only a total of three times. He had been none the wiser to Odin’s true form. And as time passed, Loki let more of his own characteristics enter into the façade. The changes were slight and slipped over a period of time; therefore no one noticed that changes. And if they did, they wisely ignored it.
“My gracious AllFather,” a man drew away from the thinning crowd of civilians, dragging with him two men and a beautiful, fair woman. “I am Lord John Thomasson, and this here is my daughter Sigyn,” John threw his daughter as nasty look before placing his hand on the shoulder of a tall, not very handsome man that had red curling hair. “This is Theoric Valesson, and he is the betrothed of my daughter and has my approval to marry her.” John then waved a careless hand at the man standing next to Sigyn who Loki instantly recognized. Thor’s half-brother. “This is Balder, the man who does not have permission of Sigyn’s hand yet he has seduced her with softly sung songs and cleverly riddled poems. My Sigyn wishes to wed him. She has already refused Theoric’s proposal and has threatened to run away.
“Your Grace,” John took a step forward, halting when Sif gave a warning hiss. “I beg of you to command Sigyn to wed Theoric or execute her if she refuses. She is my property and my right to command.”
Loki sighed, shifting in his seat, “Lady Sigyn, is what your father says true?”
“It is,” Sigyn’s hands were clasped in front of her. He could see the way her hands fiddled nervously.
“Will you wed Theoric if I command it?” Loki already knew the answer; he could see it in her beautiful blue eyes.
“No,” Sigyn’s jaw clenched, “Your Grace.”
“Sigyn!” John sounded horrified.
Balder’s eyebrows drew together as he whispered something in Sigyn’s ear but she shook her head. Loki raised a hand to silence the murmurings that had arisen in the court, “Since you are only a child, I will not execute you. Not right away. Instead,” Loki motioned to two of the guards, “I will have you spend a week in the dungeons. You will have no visitors and no personal belongings. Use this time to reflect upon your youth, and think about your choices wisely.”
“Yes, AllFather,” Sigyn allowed them to bind her wrists but she did not look as though she would heed Loki’s words. She would not bend her will no matter who ordered her to.
Loki admired that. Loki wanted to destroy that will. And he would enjoy doing so.
“As wise and kind as ever, Father,” a booming voice startled Loki, causing him to look away from Sigyn who was being escorted out of the throne room.
“Thor,” Loki feigned a smile, “It is good to see you.”
“And I you,” Thor beamed up at the image of his father, “Now, as to what is the emergency that I was called for?”
Loki froze. Someone had sent Thor a message, tricked the golden thunderer into coming to Asgard. Hiding his anxiety, Loki said, “It has been near twenty-five years since Frigga’s passing and I wanted to pay a special tribute to the AllMother’s memory.”
Thor’s face tightened in grief while the few civilians who were still in the room said in unison, “May be rest in Valhalla.”
“That is a grand idea, Father,” Thor said, smiling sadly.
Loki stood, “I must retire, and my old bones have grown weary. I will meet with the rest of you tomorrow and heed your requests. Thor, I will see you later this evening. Lady Sif, you and the Warriors Three can assist in the selection of the new soldiers and set up a training regime.”
“AllFather,” they replied.
Loki walked down the steps, Amora and Skurge broke position to come flank Loki as he exited the throne room. They walked down the hall towards Odin’s chambers, passing servants who bowed and said “AllFather” as he passed. Skurge took his position of guarding the door while Amora waved her hand, an exact copy of herself materializing in front of the door while she followed Loki inside his chambers. After Loki had taken the throne he had drastically changed the room in order to make it more his own. It was darker, held a mysterious air to it that bordered on dangerous. The spice of magic hung in the air with books strewn everywhere.
“’Gracious AllFather; lordly AllFather; please Your Grace, love me’,” Amora put her hand to her forehead and feigned collapsing on the seat at the foot of Loki’s bed.
“Don’t be obnoxious,” Loki snapped, allowing the glamor to slip away. He sighed and rolled his shoulders at the lack of sudden weight.
“Are you happy to see Thor?” Amora asked loftily as she folded her hands on the arm of the seat and placed her chin on them.
“No,” Loki pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Who sent that message? Calling him here?”
“I don’t know,” Amora pursed her lips. “Either someone who knows that you are not Odin or someone who just simply wants Thor back in Asgard for her – or his – own pleasures. After all, Jane Foster is dead.”
Loki eyed Amora, “Like Sif.”
“Like Sif,” Amora repeated. “She did not look all too surprised at seeing the Golden Son of Odin. Quit overreacting, you’re giving me a headache.”
Loki narrowed his eyes, though it was only halfheartedly. Amora was the only one who could reprimand him, as she was his daughter. Though this fact was no public knowledge. It was believed that Amora was the daughter of a handmaid – one of Sif’s – and she had grown to become a fierce warrior because of her idolization and close relationship with the warrioress. Rumor was that she could do magic, while it was true it had never been proven. Amora didn’t show it off like Loki had. Loki wasn’t her birth father, rather he had learned of her existence a mere three years after he had taken the throne. A whore in a nearby brothel and sent an urgent message to him, personally.
He remembered her well – a beauty with soft red hair and lips that easily twisted into a smile. Loki had never had her personally but he knew her well enough to tell her his true identity. She had contacted the trickster in fear. She was ill, and she could no longer care for her baby. Loki had gone and seen the woman and her child, and after learning who the babe’s father was, had decided to take the little one and raise her as his own. Amora had no idea that she was adopted. Which Loki would have preferred to keep it that way. He hated lying to her but did it anyways in the fear that if she learned who her true father was; Amora would lose her love for Loki. And that was a thought that produced a cold hand that squeezed his heart painfully.
“When are you going to visit Sigyn?” Amora asked, examining her nails.
“Who said I would visit her?” Loki’s brows drew together.
“You only put her in that cell because you want her to yourself. You found her pretty, did you not?” at Loki’s silence, she grinned haughtily and stood, “I’ll see you at supper.”
“Amora,” Loki said when her hand was on the door handle. She turned to look at him with blue eyes that glittered like sapphires, “Keep an eye on Thor. See if anyone – Sif – approaches him and tries to communicate anything suspicious. If someone does, report to me.”
“Will do,” Amora smiled warmly, “Do you want me to start setting plans for the celebration in memory of Frigga?”
“Yes,” Loki sighed, “Thank you.”
“Of course, Father,” Amora winked, “Nice recover by the way.”
When the door closed behind her, Loki sagged and reflected. These last years with Amora had brought incredible joy into Loki’s life and had helped ease the bitter hatred that had been inside him. That made the fear of her learning her true identity all the more terrifying. She would hate Loki. Because Loki tried to kill her father many times.
Thor.