Beauty and the Beast

Chapter 40

"You wouldn't betray family, would you?" Loki tried that tactic, hoping to entice his sister with the idea of family. He knew that he was desperate for love and approval. He had a feeling his sister was the same way.

"I have no family," she informed him coldly. "I never have. And it would hardly be a betrayal to give you your rightful throne," she reminded him. Loki was right. Her adamance about not having a family was proof enough how desperately she wanted one. Loki saw the familiar glint in her eyes that so haunted his own

"I am a prince of Asgard, not of Jotunheim. This is not and has never been my throne or my home," Loki told her. He really tried to be reasonable. He was trying to use logic against her. It would work on him after all.

Breya shrugged. "You're Laufey's son and the last remaining prince of Jotunheim. That is your throne," she said firmly. Loki hadn't admitted he was Laufey's son, but she wasn't stupid, unlike the current king. Besides, they were family, which of course she knew just as well as he did. He could feel the bond between them.

"No, never," Loki said firmly. He had to get away from here. He couldn't let himself be tied to a throne he didn't want.

She nodded and looked down, realizing she was in a losing fight. He wouldn't accept the throne. He didn't want it, didn't even want to be here. "Alright," she said softly. "But you won't be able to stay on the realm. There's a portal between the realms about two miles north of the palace. I'll cover your escape," she offered. It was a very generous offer indeed.

Loki nodded, accepting the offer. He needed to get out of here before he got tied to the throne. "Thank you...sister," the word felt strange on his tongue, even if it was true.

The young Jotun glared at him, her crimson eyes full of rage. "I told you. I have no family. Now get out of here," she ordered him firmly.

There was a haunted look in her eyes and Loki finally realized that she was hiding that helping him would cost her. She knew that keeping the king from angering Asgard was worth whatever punishment she would face for failing him. Loki finally vanished his daggers with a sigh. He couldn't let her suffer because of him. She was family, even if she didn't accept it, or him, yet. "Maybe you're right. And I won't risk your life just so I don't have to stay. Inform your king who I am," he ordered.

He would give in to the vision in order to protect his sister. Even if it meant he wouldn't be able to go home.

She gave him a look, distrust in her haunted eyes. "Why the change of heart? You want nothing to do with us or this realm. If you stay, you'll be tied to that throne," she reminded him, then considered that he was a self-sacrificing idiot after all.

"I have dealt with torture before. It is not something I will let my only blood family deal with. You may not admit it to yourself, but we are family," he saw the acknowledgment in her eyes. "I will not let you go through what I've gone through," he told her gently.

Breya shrugged, looking unconcerned. "He won't kill me. I'm too useful," she said, though Loki doubted her. Besides, he didn't want his sister hurt. Even if he had just met her. He didn't have blood family besides her.

"Yes. But torture isn't something you should underestimate. I would know," he said with a haunted look in his eyes.

"I've been punished for failing him before," her tone was reassuring, but her words were dreadful, especially for someone so young. She knew what she was facing and was willing to help him anyway.

Loki wouldn't let that happen. "No. Tell him, Breya. Please." It killed him to say, but he knew this was the right path.

"If you're sure," she said and turned back to the king, waving her hand again to dispel her illusion. "Interim King, this man is our rightful king, the lost prince Loptr, son of Laufey," she announceed.

The interim king glared at Loki, but stood with his held high. He glared down at Breya. "You're sure?" he demanded. She nodded meekly and Loki hated the meek look in her eyes. The interim king turned to address the court. "Your rightful king has returned. May his life be long and his rule prosperous," he seemed almost relieved that he didn't have the burden anymore as he vacated the throne. Almost. He would clearly miss the power of being king.

Loki glanced at Breya before he looked up at the throne. He had to steel himself before he climbed the steps to take his seat. The court applauded and Breya got jostled roughly out of the way as the biggest strongest, most impressive Jotuns tried to vie for positions of power and the new king's approval. "Enough!" Loki roared in a battlefield roar that silenced them all. He looked to his sister. "Breya, come here," he ordered when he caught her gaze.

The crowd silence as she scurried up to the the throne. "Yes, my king?" She asked while the others glared at her.

"You will be my personal advisor. Anyone else who dares question me will face my wrath. Am I understood?" He glared darkly at the rest of the Jotuns. His power sparked around him as he was annoyed.

"Yes, my king," Breya replied. The rest of the court agreed, however reluctantly. They didn't want to be smited. They didn't approve of the new king being advised by a teenage girl, just as they hadn't approved of the last king doing the same. Loki's glare hardened. "Do not underestimate me or my sister. Anyone who does will face the consequences,"

The crowd gasped at Loki's acknowledgement of Breya as his sister, but in such a way that Loki knew they already knew. Breya got him through the necessary tasks of the day, stopped three assassination attempts, and finally led him to his chambers which had been completely cleaned, emptied, aired out, and filled with new furnishings in preparation for him. Loki stepped in and sighed in relief. "Thank you, Breya. I appreciate your help,"

She nodded and gave him a warm smile. "Call me if you need anything else," she replied kindly, tapping her head to indicate telepathically. "I live on the other side of the palace, so it's faster than sending a messenger." The only living spaces on the other side of the palace were the servants' quarters. Loki had found that out on their tour earlier.

Loki shook his head. "That will be changing. Your room will be right across from mine. You are a princess. You will be treated as such," he told her firmly. She looked confused. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You and I are family, Breya. That will never change."

She nodded and gave him a bright smile when she finally accepted it. "Family..." she said more to herself, longing in her voice. She didn't have any delusions that he would stay forever. "Then I will see you in the morning, brother," she replied warmly and turned to find her own bed.

"Breya, not to the servants quarters. To the room across from mine. Do I have to make it an order?" He teased, a gentle smile on his face.

She sighed and rolled her eyes at him. "You just want to make sure I get no sleep tonight," she whined. "Do you know how long it will take them to set up the room across the hall?"

"Then you will sleep here while they make up your room. I will not have you treated like a servant," he told her firmly.

"Finefine, overprotective king," she replied, sounding so much like Wanda or Morgan in that moment that it brought homesick tears to his eyes. She touched his hand and ducked into the guest room of his suite to get some sleep.

Loki went into the master bedroom and laid on the bed, breathing a heavy sigh. "What have I gotten myself into?" He breathing out quietly. He realized he'd followed the visions that led to him being on the Jotun throne. And abandoned his family, friends, and Morgan in the process.

He soon found that Frigga had been desperately trying to get back in touch with him. She was his mother and wouldn't give up on him. She managed to get one message through. Only one attempt was strong enough when he didn't want to talk to her and she knew she had to leave him be after that attempt. She was out of magic to keep trying, he didn't want to talk to her, and she would push him away if she pushed any harder. So she sent him one final message, one plea of love. /No matters what happened, or what paths you choose, my darling, you will always be my son, and I will always love you/

Tears formed in his eyes and he squeezed them shut as he found against emotions. /I love you too, Mother. I always will/ he replied.

With that, he severed the connection permanently.