Loki & the Sorceress Supreme
“Good to see you awake.”
“How long was I asleep?”
“Three months. Seiðr is not as accessible as it once was on Earth.”
Loki nodded and slowly sat up. He studied the woman before him for a moment. He knew without asking who she was, the Sorceress Supreme. His lips quirked slightly in a faint smirk. “Last time I saw you, you had hair, madame.”
She chuckled at that. “And you went by Merlin. What shall Earth of the twentieth century call you?”
“I shall blend in for the time being,” he said, rubbing the swell of his womb. He had managed to hold onto his little Hela through the seiðr stage, where she fed from his own source without the support of a mate. Soon she would move to the physical stage, where she’d form and grow within his womb. He would not be able to hide her for much longer.
“Have you foreseen your successor, yet?” he asked. “He’s going to be dreadfully annoying.”
The Sorceress smiled. “He has an ego,” she agreed, “but that’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before, my Lord.”
Loki waved off the honorific. She may be the Sorceress Supreme of this realm and he a mage of many titles and abilities far beyond that, but entitlement had never been his goal. He cared not for godhood and thrones, though he had both. For him, it was far more personal.
“Where’s the Lady Valkyrie?” he asked.
“Asleep. She had a good-sized wound to her back, and with the limited seiðr here it’s taking longer to heal naturally.”
He nodded in understanding. “Where does seiðr collect?”
“Sanctuaries, such as this one, graveyards, and nature reservations will be your easiest sources. These days, the use of seiðr is rarely taught, so most of it pools deep underground were few of us can reach it.”
“I’ll have to meditate on that.”
She smirked. “I’m sure you will. For now, however, how about something to eat?”
“I cannot remember the last time I fed.”
“Broth, then,” she said, her smirk fading away. She then turned and left the room.