The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training || Loki x Reader

Chapter 62

You really, really don't want to do this - not now, not ever. And yet you find yourself turning around and walking across the room to the grand staircase, to where the announcer stands.

Maybe you aren't a ruler. Maybe you never will be.

But sometimes even an ordinary girl must do unpleasant things for the good of her people.

And looking at the faces as you pass through the crowds, the expressions of hope and awe and adoration, you know that these are your people. These are the people you love, the people you belong to. Queen-to-be or not, they have chosen you as someone to believe in, and even if you don't want to do this for your not-so-Glorious Leader, you know in your heart that you must do it for them.

You exchange nods with the announcer when you reach him, taking your place besides Rosa. Once Rhea reaches the staircase, standing between Rosa and the announcer, he begins the final ceremony.

"Before you stand the three remaining contestants. These women have spent just under three years in this palace, steeping in a brew of politics, etiquette, and romance." You wince internally at the cheesy intro. "We have gathered here this evening to watch as His Majesty makes his final selection as to which of our accomplished Chosen women will ascend to the throne as his queen."

Loki steps up on the other side of him, seemingly out of nowhere, but the announcer doesn't even flinch. You suppose he must be used to it at this point. The ballroom fills with applause at his entrance, to which he raises a hand. "Thank you." He turns to face you. You as in the three of you, not just you-you. "If I may, I would like to begin with a few words about each of the final contestants." Now he turns to face you, and if you weren't absolutely certain about your fate before, you are now. Why else would he begin with you, if not to send you home?

It's not like you weren't expecting it. But it still stings.

"Lady (Y/N), you have made clear from the start your disdain for this competition. You have disobeyed nearly every rule, have no concept of table etiquette, and you have, on multiple occasions, reprimanded me with no concern for who might possibly hear." At this, you see the corner of his mouth twitch up ever so slightly. "You are reckless, and stubborn, and wild, and you are a thief."

You hear a sharp intake of breath from the crowd, accompanied by a rush of uneasiness.

What is he...

He raises a hand, shushing them. "Perhaps I am to blame, for having allowed something so close to me to fall into your hands, but the fact remains that you have stolen my heart." From his pocket he pulls something.

A ring.

"Your sentence, if you comply, is to wear this band, so that all who see it know of this terrible, wonderful crime." Here he pauses to look up at you, a slight smile gracing his lips. "Do you plead guilty?"

You nod wordlessly, watching as he slides the ring onto your finger. The band is slim and delicate, an intricate weave of silver swirls and curly cues. At the top, set in a ring of tiny green stones, is a single diamond.

It's a perfect fit.

For a moment, all you can do is stare at your hand, unable to fully accept what you see. Because there's no way this is real. There's no way this is happening.

You think back to every glance, every blush, every dance. Every fight, every kiss. Every heartbeat. And you realize that this is what you've been waiting for. He is what you've been waiting for.

You look up at him through your eyelashes, one corner of your mouth twitching upwards. "Your Majesty, did you just ask me to marry you?"

"Considering what just transpired, I would say we both know the answer to that." You resist the temptation to roll your eyes at his response, his annoyingly, unnecessarily convoluted and evasive response. It's ridiculous, just like he is.

And you love him for it.

So you kiss him - gently, at first, until the fire takes over and you can't help but push a little further, take a little more -

He pulls back. "Is that a yes, then?"

You have never before let out a laugh filled with more joy than you feel now. "Y - "

"I don't think so."

Rhea stalks towards the two of you, smiling that enigmatic smile you've grown accustomed to.

Her eyes, though, are empty.

Rosa touches her arm, trying to draw her back "Rhe - Lady Rhea, perhaps - " She is silenced almost immediately by the knife pressed against her throat, and Rhea's hand on her arm.

"Perhaps you should stop talking? I agree."

Loki moves slowly towards Rhea, edging up so that you're standing behind him. "What are you doing?"

She smirks, pulling the knife around to point at him; with her other hand, she gives Rosa a little push, causing the other girl to stumble into a nearby guest's arms - unscathed, but visibly shaken. "What's the matter, Your Majesty? It's just a little harmless fun."

You push past him. "Rhea, I understand if you're upset - "

"You understand?" She throws back her head and howls with laughter. "Isn't that just rich? You understand - tell me, darling, what exactly do you understand?"

"You - " And suddenly, it all clicks. "Stuttgart."