The Heat of the Snow // A Loki Fanfiction

Chapter 22

"I'm not just bedding her," Loki cuts you off. "She's to be my wife."

Odin's eyes flare, his face reddening immediately. Beside him, Frigga shrinks, knowing what's coming. "Your wife?! Your WIFE?! My son marrying a Midgardian peasant?! I thought you were being insolent just bringing her here, but this?! This arrogance! This treason! And you intend to spit offspring into this woman? The treachery of your actions..."

Loki fumes silently, dropping your hand so as not to break it. "If I remember rightly, Father, you saw no issue with spreading your seed across all of Yggdrasil—mortal or otherwise."

"Loki!" Frigga admonishes, getting to her feet. "You know not to speak to your father like this."

But Odin rounds on her. "Silence, woman! I do not need you to answer for me!" Turning back to Loki, he fixes him with a look of pure steel. "I may have bedded mortal wenches, but I never joined names with any! Your marriage to an Asgardian noblewoman has already been predetermined. Do you renounce your position as my son by sullying our name? Our bloodline?"

As Loki and Odin glare at each other, you can barely lift your jaw off of the floor. The sudden exchange between the two of them has completely caught you off guard—tearing a hole through your chest and leaving your heart bare to pound wetly against your ribs. The words used to describe you are unlike anything you've ever heard in your life.

"As you have reminded me many times Father," Loki growls, his fists clenched, "my name and bloodline are far different to yours. I wouldn't be sullying anything by choosing to be with Y/N..."

Odin steps slowly towards him, and it takes all his resolve to hold his ground. "You may not be of my actual blood, but you belong to this family. We took you into this house, boy! Gave you riches, titles, lands. If you think you can marry a peasant girl from some remote country on Midgard, you are sorely mistaken!" The smile that starts to creep across Odin's mouth is suddenly cruel. "That is...unless you wish to forsake all those things."

Loki frowns, taken aback. "Forsake...?"

"Yes..." Odin glances at you and something cold lances through your stomach. "...either you forget about this idiotic idea of marrying a Midgardian...or...you do as you wish...and, by doing so, you relinquish all your Asgardian privileges—including your magic."

"My...my magic...?"

Odin's face is triumphant, and inside your chest, your heart begins to break. "Indeed. If you choose to marry this girl, you will have nothing."

Loki shakes his head, suddenly lost. "No...you can't do that..."

"I can and I will. The choice is yours, boy."

You already feel your feet moving of their own accord, backing you away. And you suppose part of you had expected him to stop you...to turn around and grab your arm...to say the words he said last night. In fact, a big part of you had. But he doesn't do it.

Loki...

Nothing had prepared you for him to freeze. To stare into the distance. To not come to your defence.

Was your love so easily shunted out of the way if his privileges were called into question?

By the look on Odin's face, you can tell he's hit Loki where it hurts. He knew his son well after all. I thought I knew did too...

You will never know him, you suddenly hear Odin's voice in your head, his eyes fixed on you—cold and calculating. No matter how many years you were to spend with my son, you would never be able to comprehend him...what he needs...what we expect of him as a Prince. He is to marry someone of noble blood...have children that are worthy of our great name...and that is not with you. Go back to Midgard where you belong girl...and leave my son to get on with his life.