Cleave | Loki x Reader

• XIII •

'Forgive the intrusion, my prince, but His Majesty summons You to the throne room with but the utmost haste.'
The servant's gaze flickered briefly to me, his discomfort plain to see as his eyes conveyed an apology to me.

'Very well,' Loki replied, his tone dripping with mock reluctance.
He turned to me, his smirk softening into something more genuine, a daring force able to bend the nine realms to his will - and me, first and foremost. 'Shall we?'

I nodded defiantly, stepping forward. Though the servant paled visibly, his mouth opening as though to object, Loki merely gave a subtle tilt of his head and the lad had already swallowed his words and scurried ahead to lead us.

Upon reaching the gilded doors to the throne room they opened as though by magic and with a low groan, the sound reverberating through the vast chamber.
Far ahead, Thor stood at the foot of the dais, his broad shoulders squared - like the good little soldier he was.
His golden hair caught the ethereal light streaming through the stained glass but his expression was tense, unreadable.
My gaze went out in the mission to catch that of my best friend, to no avail.

Instead the All-Father's gaze swept over us as we approached, his single eye piercing as it settled on Loki and me. The weight of his presence was immense, the air thick.
And the older I grew-the more I abhorred it.

Gods, had I been glad I wouldn't ever have to sit that throne.

'You are late,' Odin said, his voice resonating like the toll of a great bell.
Loki inclined his head, his smirk subdued though nonetheless present.

'My apologies, Father. I have been delayed by matters of-' He cast a sidelong glance at me, the corner of his mouth quirking, '-grave and bulging importance.'

Odin's expression remained impassive as he rose to his feet, the heavy folds of his cloak cascading around him like a shroud. My abashed face on the other hand must've spoke volumes - seeing that Thor could barely withhold his amusement.

'The time has come,' he intoned and for a hot second a wave of panic threatened to pull me under.
Not yet, not yet, not yet, not-

'As sons of Asgard, it is your duty to uphold the peace of the Nine Realms.'
The words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting as a heavy silence filled the space.

Not yet, Not. Yet.

'This century-It marks the tenth since the Æsir and Vanir have laid down their arms,' Odin continued, gaze sharp and unyielding.
'And to honour that peace, you, my sons, shall embark on a journey across the Nine Realms. For a full hundred years you shall learn your subjects' ways, fight alongside the bravest of their warriors, and endeavour to ensure that the bonds forged in blood remain untarnished and unbroken.'

Thor shifted beside me, his jaw tightening.
Loki stood perfectly still.
Yet still I felt the tension radiating from that lean figure of his that only minutes ago had clung to mine as though nothing could possibly cleave them apart anytime soon...

The peace treaty. A full thousand years had passed since those dark ages of war and loathing and death, I thought.
And we, as their daughters and sons, hadn't even remembered.

I clenched my hands at my sides, my nails biting into my palms.
A century apart.
The words echoed in my mind like a cruel refrain.
A century without them, without my boys, without him.

It's nothing, I tried to tell myself. A fraction of a lifetime. Barely a breath in the span of ... us.
Of Loki's and my story.
But the thought offered but little comfort. My mind inevitably raced, threatening to spiral into chaos.