Loki's Daughter, Mortem and Mischief

Chapter Forty Seven

I was whisked away to my room in a flurry of maids. They hurriedly dressed me and did my hair, lecturing me about disappearing to "who knows where" the hour prior. I kept quiet, letting them fuss over me as I reviewed the notes I had made for the meeting.

I was shaking with anticipation, dying to have it all over with. I hadn't a clue how it would all go. Would it be focused on diplomacy? I could handle that. I could wine and dine the Jotun king with ease, perhaps I could even convince him to begin trade with Asgard. I was confident that I could do well on that front, no matter how terrifying Laufey might be. (At least, that was what I was telling myself.) Or would it be personal-a reunion between father and son? Perhaps Laufey had only taken up my invitation on the premise of meeting his son. Maybe he wanted to even meet me. I was just wishing, praying that it all went well. I couldn't fail here.

A knock sounded from my door just as the nursemaids finished me up. I wore a simple blue dress, it was youthful and flowy. The soft fabric was embroidered with subtle asgardian runes as well as traditional Jotun symbols. My hair was braided over my shoulder, plain but clean. Obviously, they were making me out to look non-threatening and show that I truly was a bridge between worlds. As if my blood didn't already prove that enough.

"Come in!" I said as the maids began to clean up. My father opened the door, meeting me with a kind smile. He was drsssed similarly to me, our colors and embroidery matching. But he looked far sharper, dangerous even with the black baldric that was strapped around his chest. The royal stylists were truly milking his Jotun status as they had done him up with makeup, pointing white stripes onto his cheeks. It reminded me of Grimnir.

"You look beautiful," he commented as he walked inside. The maids hurried to leave as they saw him enter, even despite all the kindness he had shown over the last few months-the palace staff remained largely terrified of him.

"Where were you today? Your mother and I were going to invite you on our ride but we couldn't find you anywhere," he asked as he sat on my bed.

"I was just busy, I was seeking council for today," I said truthfully. My father didn't know how often I had been visiting our little prisoner. And truly, I was glad that he was left ignorant about it. I was fearful of what he may say if he knew the way I had been treating him...especially as of late. Besides, it's not like he had to know. Grimnir was still my prisoner, that's all he ever would be-even if he developed slight stockholm syndrome.

"Understandable. Are you worried at all?" he said. I nodded. "Are you?" I asked. He nodded as well.

"He is my father and yet, the only time I've ever talked to him was in the interest of bringing Asgard's downfall and killing Odin. And today, I'm meant to break bread with him alongside my daughter. I'm not sure how to feel," he explained softly.

"So you consider him as that? Your father?" I asked, sitting besides him. "Not Odin." He sighed as he shrugged.

"I don't know, really. He certainly isn't the man who raised me yet his blood courses through me even now," he said. My father flipped his palms to the sky and slowly they shifted to a royal blue, etched with delicate dark stripes. "I'm just his bastard child. At least under Odin, I was his son...Asgard's prince. I suppose I would consider Odin mt father now, though I certainly wouldn't have admitted that a decade ago," he explained as his hands faded back to that pale white shade that matched my own.

"I'm sorry," I said softly. I couldn't imagine the grief that my father's parentage must have caused him. To believe one thing your entire life only to find out it wasn't true sounded like a nightmare. I couldn't even fathom the crisis I would face if I knew Loki wasn't my father. Lucky for me though, the resemblance between us was more than uncanny.