Lost Treasures - A Loki love Story

The deal

"You label it as greed, yet gold serves as a universal currency across all the realms. Acquiring such an amount would secure vital resources and provisions for my people for years to come."

His quizzical gaze fixes on me and I wait, anticipating more questions.

"And what purpose does the Yggdrasil root serve? It is indeed a peculiar demand," he asks, confirming my suspicions correct.

"That root holds great significance," I explain. "With it, I can cultivate and regrow Vannaheim's own sacred tree, lost to us in wars that transpired millennia ago. No other realm would willingly part with a fragment of their own Yggdrasil, making it a precious asset."

Loki's demeanor softens slightly, a hint of curiosity replacing his arrogance. "What is the significance of having your own tree?" he inquires, seemingly genuinely intrigued.

"A sacred tree represents the life force of a realm. With our own tree, we can revive the spirit and prosperity of our realm, fostering hope for the future. There is truth when they say not all lands are fertile. Having a tree that is still intact would enrich our lands. Our crops would thrive, and we would no longer have to rely on other realms during harsh winters that destroy our yields. Vannaheim would be self-sufficient, no longer indebted to others."

"An intriguing request," he muses.

"So, do you agree to my terms?" I inquire, eager to hear his response.

After a brief moment of me holding my breath in anticipation, a smirk spreads across his face, and he promptly replies, "We have a binding deal."

My heart dances wildly inside my chest. The deal is done. And I will finally have a root to gift to my realm. Yet, my joy feels short lived when I spot Loki's sinister smile stretching across his face. It sends a cold creeping sensation up my back, unsettling the confidence I had just moments ago.

"Why are you smirking?" I ask, attempting to maintain a semblance of assurance. "I believe I have the upper hand here, especially since I know I do not possess the orb."

Loki's smug smile widens, his eyes gleaming with cunning amusement. "Because, my dear. You made a binding deal without first inquiring about what I desire in return."

My heart sinks, pounding anxiety coursing through my veins. He is absolutely right. In my eagerness to secure a piece of the Yggdrasil root and fulfil my dream of having a sacred tree, I completely overlooked the crucial step of asking him for his own demands. Now, I am filled with unease, fearing what he may request. The possibilities seem endless, and I would be bound to comply.

Summoning my courage, I respond with a measured tone, "May I remind you that I am a queen, and I have a king. Your request cannot undermine my dignity or go against the interests of my king or my people."

I deliberately withhold the fact that my mentioned king is, in fact, my deceased father. By maintaining this ambiguity, I safeguard myself from being easily overthrown. No realm is aware of my father's passing. As a new, unwed queen without a male family member to support my claim, I am seen as vulnerable and easily manipulated. If word were to get out, power-hungry nobles and ambitious kings would flock to my realm, seeking advantageous alliances through marriage or even attempting to seize my realm by force.

"What I ask of you will not create any conflicts between you and your king," he responds, attempting to provide reassurance. However, I can't help but feel a lingering nervousness, uncertain of what his demands entail.

Taking a deep breath, I steel myself. "Then, tell me your demands," I request sharply.

Loki maintains his confidence as he begins with a seemingly straightforward request. "Firstly, and perhaps most importantly, I would very much like to know the name of the queen who nearly tore out my tongue..."