Of Cunning and Kinship || Loki x reader

Chapter six

"Should we be concerned about an aggressive visit from him? Or from his kind?"

"It's not possible;

"Besides, he didn't seem like the dangerous type."

-

Loki fantasised about pulling people's eyes out of their sockets with a butter knife.

The attack during Thor's coronation and the sudden illness of the king had thrown the War Council into chaos. Screams and obscenities filled the room, the higher generals having long forgotten any resemblance of pleasantries. Loki half expected the old men to slaughter themselves before any agreement could be reached.

He felt the burden of the crown ageing him already.

He had tried to be patient, to reason with his advisors; however, it was hard to listen to brute fools blinded by rage and deprived of common sense. Additionally, it was hard to listen impartially when said fools belittled the figure who currently sat on the throne.

"Enough!" the new ruler slammed his fist on the dark wooden table.

Immediately all eyes turned towards him, silence finally blessing the chamber. Good.

With a nod, he gestured for Heimdall to continue his speech.

"Our army might be superior, but any direct conflict shall lead to bloodshed nonetheless," the gatekeeper uttered in a calm tone.

"Tis the price of any war, Asgard has been far too lenient with those creatures, the Jötnar must pay!" Tyr waved the stump where his hand used to be, followed by enthusiastic encouragement, "Let us obliterate those monsters once and for all!" Half the room boomed in support, thirsty for Jötunn blood. In the middle of the commotion, the gracious Aesir were a pack of hungry wolves baring their sharp teeth anticipating a gory hunt. Loki stopped himself from recoiling on his seat, wondering if they could smell his cursed flesh.

Taking a deep breath, the young king recomposed himself and raised his voice again, "Heimdall, what do you see?"

The golden-eyed man stared blankly ahead, pessimism clouding his handsome features, "They are preparing themselves, using sorcery beyond my knowledge. After the last attack, I fear our defences might be compromised."

Loki did not need to demand silence after the gatekeeper's speech; the threat of unsafety inside their fortress was enough to throw the room into quietness. Even the most experienced warriors grimly let the statement sink in, the cold tension suffocating the unnerved gods. Asgard was not safe.

Vili, one of the oldest generals, finally spoke, looking for directions from the crown, "Our artillery cannot detect them. Even Heimdall cannot see them. My king, how should we proceed?"

Most of the occupants seemed slightly startled at the inquiry, as if they had finally realised who was their ruler, after hours of dismissing his authority and identity.

The young god knew that none of them was confident in him. No one had ever considered the possibility of him sitting on the throne. The mighty Thor was the one destined to rule. With muscles and charisma he would punch his way to a new age of glory!

Loki? Loki, the lanky trickster? The one with magic tricks? He was just the second prince, what impact could he make?

He would never be respected until he proved his worth, and the Aesir would never be satisfied until the Jötunn threat was obliterated.