Son of Mischief (Loki/Asgard Fanfiction - Selig's Story)

Chapter One

Seven years later

He was going to kill whoever was pounding on the door. Just flat out kill them.

"Someone's at the door, my lord," the woman next to him grumbled, pulling the pillow over her head.

"I know."

The knocking sounded again and this time, she said, "You might want to see who it is."

He groaned as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I am. I am."

He paused long enough to tug on his robe, loosely tying the belt as he crossed toward the door. "What?" he snapped, yanking it open.

"I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, my lord, but His Highness has requested your presence in the Throne Room."

"Now? What time is it, Derek?"

"Nearly ten, my lord."

Selig swallowed the oath bubbling to his lips. Being summoned to the Throne Room never ended well for him. "Fine. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Derek didn't move, but just held his gaze until Selig said, "What?"

"He said now, my lord."

Selig sighed. "Might I at least dress?"

"Of course. And shall I show Elke back to her chambers?"

"Please." Selig turned away from the door, padding to his dressing room to change into black leather leggings and a loose, dark gray tunic. By the time he emerged, Derek and the maid Selig had brought back to his room the night before were both gone.

The walk to the Throne Room seemed to take longer than usual, and when Selig crested the crimson runner and the throne itself came into view, he sighed. Atop it sat his father, Loki, known through the nine realms as the God of Mischief, and he didn't look at all happy to see him.

"You sent for me?" Selig asked, pausing at the foot of the immense dais holding the throne. Three golden staircases of nine steps each separated him from his father, and Loki wasn't smiling as he set aside Gungnir—his staff—and rose to descend.

"A maid, Selig?" Loki said by way of greeting. "Last night it was a serving girl? And the night before... who was she?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Selig shrugged. "I didn't get her name."

Loki rolled his eyes. "I don't suppose it ever occurred to you to take a night off?"

How was he supposed to respond to that? Actually, until now, he didn't realize his father even knew how his firstborn spent most of his nights. "Spying on me, Dad?"

"I know everything that goes on here, Sel. Or have you forgotten that?" Loki asked mildly, but there was no mistaking the anger simmering just below his surface. His eyes were normally the same color as Selig's, a blue that was sometimes pale and sometimes darker. But when he was angry? That blue morphed into a hard jade and there was definitely hard jade in Loki's eyes at the moment.

"I'm not a kid, Dad. I like to have a good time." He shrugged. "There's no crime in having a good time."

"No, there isn't. But there's also a time when you have to grow up. You're twenty-five years old now, Selig. It's time for you to start thinking about your future."

"My future? This—" Selig gestured to the immense golden throne behind Loki—"is my future, remember? Are you planning on stepping down any time soon?"

"So you might bring your playmates in here?" Loki snorted, shaking his head. "I think not, Selig."

"Then what's to think about?"