Chapter 4
When you reach Loki’s private room, the door is already a bit ajar, allowing you to see him standing by his desk. You knock all the same, semi-playfully.
“Can we talk?”
His attention remains fixed on the work before him. “I’m busy. Don’t you have wedding plans to review?”
You take a step back, stung. “I just finished my last fitting, actually.” Your husband-to-be has been known to be a bit abrasive - harsh, even, when the mood strikes - but not in recent years, and never to you. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing you should worry about.”
It would be a lie to say Loki has never brushed you off like this before. The very nature of the Choosing didn’t exactly provide the two of you with a strong framework for easy communication, and while it’s something the two of you have worked on, there is still much work to be done.
It’s just a bit disheartening to have to deal with the day before your wedding.
“In less than twenty four hours, I will be your wife. Anything that worries you is of concern to me; it’s in my job description.” He continues to ignore you, but you approach him with as much confidence and queenliness as you can muster. “Hey.”
He sighs. “(Y/N)...”
You wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m here for you,” you whisper between his shoulder blades.
He remains quiet for a long, long moment. “Rebels.”
“What?”
“Rebel forces. You remember New York?”
It’s a rhetorical question, but you answer all the same. “Of course.” You rub his shoulder, making small, steady circles with the palm of your hand. “You’ve changed since then, Loki. That wasn’t really you to begin with. And even if it was, you ceded power. You don’t— we don’t run anything. What do they think they’re rebelling against? ”
“My very presence here.” You stiffen. “They want to send me back.”
“Back?” Even as you ask, you know what he means. “To Asgard.”
“Yes.”
“They can’t do that. There’s no way back.” He doesn’t respond. “There’s no way back, right?”
“There are...a few secret passages, but I doubt they know them.”
“Okay. Is that all?” You can feel his hesitation. “Loki?”
“There is an item they could use. An energy source. It’s in the palace, under lockdown, heavily guarded,” he assures you. “I merely want to ensure your safety. Especially tomorrow, what with your family here, and the other guests, and Lady Amara’s student body.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all. I’m just putting extra security measures in place. There is absolutely no cause for concern.”
You’re still slightly skeptical. You’ve become quite good at reading him, but there are still times when you wonder what he’s thinking.
When you wonder if he trusts you as much as he says.
“And if there is, you’ll tell me?”
“Of course. I was entirely serious, though, when I said I was occupied. Whatever you wanted to discuss…”
“It can wait til later.” It technically can, though you’re dying to spill. You don’t want to rush the news. You want to be able to tell him with time to spare, leaning on his chest before bed, something to open a conversation, not a passing remark while his mind is clearly elsewhere.
To be honest, you’re somewhat relieved. You need a little more time to gather the courage to tell him.
“I’ll see you around.” You plant a quick kiss on his cheek before turning around. I could check the guest bedrooms . You’ve already spent hours picking the perfect rooms for your family and friends, decorating Carlie’s room just so. How about the guest list? But the invitations had already gone out, several months ago. I should probably finish the dress alterations… The dress was lovely, but there were one or two adjustments you had wanted to make, and after all of the work Meg had insisted on putting into your wardrobe for the honeymoon, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask her to do anything more.
Entering your own room puts you in a slightly better mood—after the competition you were able to give the room a more thorough renovation, and the afternoon light streaming through the crimson drapes gives the room a warm glow. You pull back the curtains and push the window open, closing your eyes and relishing the feel of the crisp winter air on your cheeks.
You hear the bang-click of the window shutting and latching, and the breeze disappears, but you still feel a chill on your neck. Your eyes fly open.
“Now, darling, I’m sure the last thing you want is to get sick the day before the wedding.”
Long, cold fingers graze your skin, brushing your hair to the side so that he can plant a kiss on your shoulder. You shiver, tilting your head. “I thought no men were allowed in the princess's chambers without her express permission?"”
“I don't remember you ever being such a stickler for the rules." You turn to face him at that. He kisses you again, this time on the lips, and you feel the chill run through you like a bolt of lightning. "I also shouldn’t have dismissed you like that.” His hands skim the length of your arms, finally finding purchase on your waist. "What is it you wanted to discuss?”
“Well...” Oh God oh God how do I -
“Pardon me, (Y/N)?”
You jump, relaxing when you see the figure in the doorway. “Meg.”
“Your family has arrived.”
Great. As if you didn’t have enough on your mind already. Still, you can’t avoid this moment forever.
“Very well.” You feel a squeeze at your hand, and you look up to see a clear question in Loki’s eyes. You shake your head, biting your lip. “I should probably…”
“Greet them alone. I understand.” He can’t completely hide the pain in his voice, but there’s nothing to be done. You both know his presence would do little to ease the tension. “Go.”
“Thank you.” You loop your hand through Meg’s arm as you leave the room, and she gives you a knowing nod. After all, Meg may not have been there the last time you saw your family, but she knows the story of what happened.
She knows as well as you do that you’re about to head into battle.