Lower Your Eyes (A Loki Romance Fanfic)

Chapter Sixteen: By the laws of Yggdrasil...

Three days had gone by since Loki had last seen Aila, since she manifested in his chambers. As requested, she'd kept her distance—as was needed. Loki would rather have had her hidden away as he planned the next couple of days, instead of having her traverse the hallways where she might encounter the king of Niflheim once more.

He rounded the corner, into the courtyard where his intended company was spending the afternoon. A gentle harp played in the corner of the yard, servers walking around in billowing white gowns. Glancing around at the gardens surrounding the tables, Loki recalled the last time he'd taken guests here—when Althar had drenched Aila wholly with that soup and followed up with a repugnant attempt to assault her.

His pulse ticked at the memory, then calmed as he approached one of the tables. All at once, six pairs of eyes snapped up toward him.

"Forgive my tardiness," he said as Frigga, Odin, Thor, Lilette, the King Veris, and some advisor looked his way. Lilette seemed pleased at his arrival, albeit a bit reluctant after their last encounter. "I lost track of the time."

"That's alright," said Frigga as she patted him on the shoulder, looking a bit dismayed—as though he'd just joined an unpleasant conversation. "We were just discussing some...educational reforms in Niflheim."

"Reforms?" Loki said, turning to the king.

King Veris sat back in his chair, gesturing to the man beside him. "My consul, Ragar, has drawn it all up. I've entrusted him to organize relations in the coming future, to bring children to Asgard from our most noble families in reforming magical education."

Loki furrowed a brow, glancing at Frigga as she donned a particularly dour look. "I don't understand," he said. "What do the children of Niflheim have to do with reforming education in Asgard?"

Ragar leaned forward. "It's not about your manner of teaching the craft," he said. "It is merely the opinion of the people of Niflheim that magic should not be reserved to the occupants of the First Realm."

"And it is the opinion of the First Realm that those who study the nuances of magician-ship should do so at their own peril," Odin said calmly. "There is no reason for us to be responsible for the upbringing of young practitioners in another realm."

In the corner of his eye, Thor slid Loki a terse look. Understanding slowly blanketed him as he realized the nature of the conversation he'd just joined—the razor's edge that they were walking upon.

"Do you practice magic, King Veris?" Loki asked.

A muscle ticked in the Veris's jaw. "No, young prince. I do not."

His eyes narrowed. "But you would like to."

"There are many things that I would like," Veris said.

Oh, yes. He surely wanted many things—such as the ability to fortify his courtiers with magic. The war of the realms had been ended with a treaty, and Niflheim was the last to fall into agreement at the behest of the realms. Over time, the study of seidr would not remain among the noble classes alone, and Niflheim was unstable enough as it was without another layer of means to challenge Asgard—a fact that, judging by his expression, Odin was fully aware of.

Loki's eyes swept to the Alfather, sipping wine and popping a grape into his mouth. For a moment, he almost felt sorry for the old man—even now, he was toeing the edge of another war with another realm, and he was oh-so practiced at displaying a cold front in the face of peril.

"I wonder," Loki began, looking toward the king. "You must have some understanding of magic to conceive of its usefulness. Have you known someone who practiced?"