Unknownfate
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Chapter 126
🕑 Added 2025-05-13 02:27:37 +0000 UTCI had to admit, I hadn’t expected that from Loki. To call me beautiful? Well, he wasn’t wrong, but I never saw him as the type to say such things… I could have sworn he loved himself. Though maybe that was a future version… or another variant?
Multiverse and timeline stuff made things confusing.
I decided to ignore his little comment and instead stick to the script I had prepared.
“Greetings, Lord Loki, prince of Asgard, Lord Regent of the Nine Realms. I am Arthuria Pendragon, King of Albion, Lord of Storms, White Lion King, and Goddess Rhongomyniad, and I welcome you to my home.”
I let my voice carry, filling the vast hall with the full weight of my presence. I wasn’t about to let him mistake me for some lesser mortal; I needed him to see me as someone worthy, someone on his level.
Loki’s lips twitched, his emerald eyes narrowing slightly, the faintest hint of a frown creasing his perfect, arrogant features. Clearly, he hadn’t expected my response, and I took a small, petty satisfaction in that.
He inclined his head, just a fraction, his long, dark hair brushing against the polished metal of his curved horns. “I admit I didn’t expect to meet a Goddess playing king on Midgard, but it is a pleasure to meet a fellow god nonetheless.”
I had no doubt his mind was working overtime, trying to figure out the situation, so I had to keep him from thinking about it calmly.
I stood up from my throne.” I’m afraid I have no extra seats here, and it is hardly proper to entertain someone of your position from my throne while you stand, so come, follow me to a sitting room.” I said, quickly having him escorted along with me without giving him time to think.
I led him through a series of grand corridors, each one as meticulously crafted and carefully maintained as the throne room itself, the polished marble floors reflecting the flickering torchlight like liquid silver. The walls were lined with ancient tapestries and painted murals, each one a fragment of my legend, a piece of my long and bloody history.
I glanced at Loki from the corner of my eye, catching the slight, almost imperceptible shift in his expression as he took in the scenes around him. I could tell he was studying them, trying to piece together the story of this strange, powerful ruler who had so suddenly appeared on Midgard.
Good. Let him wonder.
Finally, we reached a smaller, more intimate chamber, the heavy wooden doors swinging open to reveal a tastefully furnished sitting room. A roaring fire crackled in the large stone hearth, casting flickering shadows across the richly upholstered chairs and low, polished tables.
I gestured for Loki to take a seat, choosing the high-backed chair nearest the fire for myself. It was a subtle power move, positioning myself as the one in control, the one with the warmth of the fire at my back, the one who held the light while he remained in the shadows.
Loki, to his credit, seemed to recognize the gesture for what it was, his lips twitching into a faint, knowing smirk as he settled into the chair opposite me, his long, graceful fingers folding together in his lap.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. A crackling fireplace being the only sound in the room, the flames of it casting long, dancing shadows across the polished stone floor.
Finally, I broke the silence, leaning back in my chair, my fingers resting lightly on the armrests as I met his sharp, emerald gaze.
“So,” I said, my tone calm, almost conversational, as if we were merely discussing the weather or the latest court gossip. “What brings the acting King of Asgard to my city?”
Loki’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with the cold, predatory amusement of a fox that had just caught the scent of a particularly interesting rabbit.
“Oh, I was simply… here to visit my dear brother… whom I suspect you are well aware is currently in your city, and once I got here, I couldn’t in good faith not greet the Ruler of Midgard.” he replied, his voice smooth, his tone light, but I could see the sharp, calculating mind behind those green eyes, quickly working to figure me out.
“I dare not call myself the Ruler of Midgard, I rule but my realm of Albion, and speak only for that. And indeed, I am aware of your brother Thor’s exile; he may stay here as a guest, unless you wish to have him back. That too is allowed.”
Loki’s eyes narrowed just a fraction, the faintest flicker of surprise crossing his sharp features at my casual mention of Thor’s exile. Clearly, he hadn’t expected me to know as much as I did.
Good. Let him wonder.
He leaned back in his chair, one long, slender finger tapping idly against the armrest, his mind clearly racing as he considered his response.
“Ah,” he said at last, his tone light, almost playful, though I could hear the edge beneath his words. “So you are aware of my brother’s… predicament. I suppose it would be too much to expect a goddess to be ignorant of such matters.”
I smiled, allowing just the faintest hint of amusement to touch my lips, leaning back in my chair.
“Of course,” I replied smoothly. “It would be a poor ruler indeed who did not know of the divine guest residing within their own walls.”
He chuckled, a low, throaty sound, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of genuine amusement and carefully concealed irritation.
“Indeed. Though I must say, it is rather surprising to find Thor here of all places. I would have thought he would have found his way to a place more… fitting to his tastes.”
I arched a brow, letting the silence stretch between us for a moment, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.
“Perhaps,” I said at last, my tone cool and measured. “But then, perhaps this place is the place most fitting to his tastes? Where else in the mortal realm can a mortal god be safe? I know that Odin wish for me to ensure his son lives, that is his love for him, and I assure you Prince Loki, your brother is safe here.”
I let Loki know that he shouldn’t have any thoughts about killing Thor under my watch. I don’t even think the thought had crossed his mind, he merely wanted to keep him away from Asgard, and that I could help him with.
“Ah, how reassuring,” he said, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “It is good to know my dear brother is in such capable hands. I am sure my father would be most grateful to hear of your… hospitality.”
We both paused for a moment.
“Hospitality is something we take seriously in Albion,” I replied smoothly, my tone calm, unbothered. “A hospitality I offer you as well, Prince Loki, and while your brother will be allowed a normal life, you shall enjoy a royal welcome, and all that entails, you can stay here in my Castle, all of Camelot is open to you.”
For a brief moment, Loki’s sharp, calculating expression softened, his eyes glinting with something that almost resembled genuine appreciation. I could see the subtle shift in his posture, the way his shoulders relaxed just a fraction, the way his chin lifted a little higher, as if the weight of his many insecurities had momentarily eased.
“Then I shall accept your hospitality, King Arthuria,” he said, his voice smoother now, the harsh, defensive edge gone. “It has been some time since I was given a proper welcome, and I find myself… intrigued by your realm.”
I allowed myself a small, genuine smile, inclining my head in acknowledgment. “I am pleased to hear it. Albion is a place of honor and tradition, and it is my duty to extend that courtesy to those of high station, especially those who stand as rulers themselves.”
Loki’s eyes flicked to the tapestries lining the walls, his gaze lingering on one depicting a mighty battle, the White Lion King at its center, her blade raised high against a monstrous foe. I could almost see the gears turning in his mind, the slow, methodical process by which he analyzed and weighed every word, every gesture, every symbol around him.
“Your realm is… impressive,” he admitted, his tone carrying a note of reluctant respect. “I did not expect to find such a place on Midgard. It has a… certain majesty to it, a sense of order and purpose that is rare in this chaotic realm.”
I couldn’t help but feel the smallest amounts of pride at his words, though I kept my expression calm and composed. “That is high praise coming from the Prince of Asgard. I thank you for it.”
He inclined his head in a small, almost graceful nod, his lips curling into a faint, genuine smile. “It is well-earned, I assure you. I have walked the halls of many great palaces, seen the wonders of realms beyond mortal comprehension, and yet…” His eyes flicked to the grand stone fireplace, the flames dancing and crackling within. “This place has a certain… timelessness to it. A sense of purpose that few can match.”
A small, satisfied smile touched my lips, leaning back in my chair as I regarded him with a calm, measured gaze. “I am glad to hear that Camelot was built by the fae, and while I doubt they can match the dwarves of Nidavellir, I am still proud of my home.”
We continued to exchange pleasantries for a bit, mostly just empty words of praise and respect. It took me back to my time as king of Britannia. Meeting with other lords and kings, having to sit through hours of this back and forth.
I always hated it, but Merlin wouldn’t let me skip it, I think he enjoyed watching me suffer.
Eventually, the conversation began to wind down, the flow of pleasantries and carefully chosen words slowing as the initial tension between us eased. Loki had visibly relaxed, his earlier wariness and guarded arrogance giving way to a more genuine, if still calculating, curiosity.
I could see the subtle shift in his posture, the way he leaned back in his chair, his long fingers tapping lightly against the polished armrests.
Still, I knew he hadn’t forgotten his true purpose here, and neither had I.
With a graceful, almost theatrical motion, Loki rose from his chair, his long, dark cloak sweeping behind him like the trailing shadow of a storm cloud. He inclined his head slightly, his sharp, emerald eyes meeting mine with a flicker of something that almost resembled warmth.
“While your hospitality is greatly appreciated, King Arthuria, I find myself compelled to seek out my brother,” he said, his tone light, almost conversational, as if discussing the weather. “Family matters, you understand. I would not want him to feel abandoned in this strange, unfamiliar realm.”
I gave a small, knowing nod, my own posture still relaxed, my expression carefully neutral. “Of course. I would not dream of keeping you from your kin. Please, feel free to explore my city as you wish. Albion is open to you, Prince Loki.”
He inclined his head a fraction further, his lips curling into a faint, enigmatic smile. “You are most gracious, my lady. I shall not forget this kindness.”
It had gone well. I had been slightly worried that he would be less reasonable, more like his half-mad avenger self. Calling himself a god left and right, acting overly superior. But it seemed he hadn’t been pushed to that point just yet.
Making it possible to sit down and talk with him… and it didn’t hurt that I already knew how to handle him.
But those eyes…
I couldn’t help but worry.
(end of chapter)
So, gotten myself someone to help with editing… and the idea is to help me free up some time. But honestly it hasn’t worked out like that just yet.
Instead of spending 30 minutes editing a chapter, I end up spending that time going over what they did, and then another 2 hours just chatting.
So yeah, it's for sure not faster than doing it myself, but it's fun, so I don’t mind.
Comments
Xgodlikestevenx 531
Is it just me or is comic lady Loki more hot then the male one ☝️
