Lessons in Mischief // Loki Fanfiction

Chapter 2

You're completely captivated, unable to tear your eyes away from him, especially when he turns to gracefully write on the wide blackboard at the front of the room. 

You watch, mesmerised by the beautifully swirled writing that flows from the chalk between his fingers, your eyes following the movement down to the corded muscles of his forearm. The black silk shirt he's wearing pulls taut around his strong shoulders and tucks into the waistband of his trousers. And as your eyes drift lower, they snag on the tight curve of his arse, outlined inside the fabric. 

Holy shit, he's so hot. Your hand trembles as you note down the writing on the board. God, I'm being so inappropriate...this is my first lecture, and I'm already panting over the Professor.

You look up again, putting the pen to your lip. How could I not, though? The guy is gorgeous...and way younger than I expected a Professor to be.

When he turns to the students again, he seems to command the room with an aura of charismatic mystery. His blue eyes, sharp and knowing, sweep across the eager faces. When they land on you, they become piercing, pinning you to your seat. It's almost as if he's millimetres in front of you, his fingers gently sliding around your throat.

"So, my dear students," Loki says softly, "let us next discuss the use of power now. The cleverest rulers are said to rule without a crown and lead without a sceptre. Do you think this to be true?"

When students put their hands up to answer, the series of interactions pass you in a blur. You stare at the Professor's face, the whisper of a smile on his lips, and your mind drifts, imagining what those lips would feel like grazing your skin.

Oh, my God...I need to get a grip!

Another student raises his hand. "Professor Laufeyson? Do you think power always corrupts? Or can it be wielded for good?"

Loki smiles knowingly and perches on his desk. "Ah, the eternal question. Power is a tool. Like fire, let's say. Fire can warm a house, or it can burn it down. Corruption lies not in the power itself but in the hands that wield it. And so, a benevolent King can bring prosperity, just as a tyrant can bring ruin."

A question bubbles to your throat, and you raise your hand, unable to stop yourself. "But how do we make sure power is used properly? Is there a way to stop people from misusing it?"

When Loki's eyes meet yours, appraising you carefully, something in his heart pangs. "An excellent question. Safeguarding it lies with wisdom and perspective. Without these, power is but a wild beast."

Loki steps towards you, and a tingling sensation creeps up your neck. Your breath catches, and you squirm uneasily as you sit back in your seat.

"Allow me to share a story with you," Loki says, holding out his arms. "The story of a God, who yearned for power – for recognition. His name was whispered in both reverence and fear across the realms. This God was raised into a legacy of strength and valour but continued to stand in the shadow of his brother – a hero adored by all. The God of our story possessed a different type of strength – the power of cunning and intelligence. He believed that acquiring power was his path to greatness, so he sought it in the hidden corners of the world – in ancient spells and forbidden knowledge. But with each new piece of power he gained, a piece of his soul dimmed."

You lean forward in your seat, hanging on his every word – much like everyone else in the room. With wide eyes, you forget to raise your hand, asking, "What happened to him?"

Loki smiles ruefully. "He found power, indeed. But at great cost. He learned that power without purpose only leads to a lonely existence filled with shadows and regret. It wasn't until he lost everything he held dear that he understood the true nature of power."