His Dragon (Loki Laufeyson)

Part 3 (Loki's POV)

Loki

"She's been quite testy as of late." Loki muttered as he leaned back against the chair in his study.

"She's working hard, darling. A small rut in her reign is to be expected after the glory." His mother eased from her illusion, smiling warmly at her son. "You must be patient with her."

"I have been patient, mother. I just want...."

"You want it all, Loki. Just as you always have." His mother sighed. "She needs grace, right now. She needs-"

"What of my needs?" Loki asked, twiddling his fingers within his lap as he looked down, reminding his mother far too much of the small boy she once punished for silly antics amongst their own palace.

"She's trying her best." Frigga stated.

"I am too!" He argued, his voice threatening to crack as he desperately tried to make her understand. "I have tried my best to be patient, to be kind, to be reassuring! And yet it works little in the grand scheme. She spends hours in her study, from before sunrise to far passed sunset, even father never-"

"Your father had a son who wrote most of his diplomatic communications for him, a wife who did the brunt of his legislative decrees." Frigga argued back, "She has none of that."

"She has me. Yet it feels she gives me the puny task of commanding cupbearers and guardsmen." Loki nearly growled back, his elbows slamming onto his desk.

"Have you discussed this with her? If you want to take on more responsibility, you will need to speak with her on that matter."

"I don't understand why she wouldn't just come to me, ask me, tell me!" Loki scoffed out. "She allows Fandral more than me. Did he ask for such?"

"We were gone, Loki." Frigga finally sighed, her usually warm demeanor shifting to sorrow. "She grew quite used to handling all her affairs single-handedly, or with Fandral, and she likely isn't sure what to thrust upon you. At the end of all that's said, it is her kingdom. She may have declared the lack thereof a consort in your palace, but it is the empire she chose to build."

Loki's knuckle came to his lips after a deep sigh escaped his chest, his eyes falling once more as he pondered the idea.

Perhaps he hadn't been as encouraging or supportive as he had thought. Actually, when Danielle first began to work once more, he was far more frustrated over her lack of time than the prospect of not gaining much responsibility.

He had actually enjoyed it at first, being in a palace, for once, without added duties.

That enjoyment died easily when his wife had no time to spare for him, when he grew bored and antsy and sick of the endless lack of activity.

"Yes, I understand." He mumbled. "I'll talk to her, I suppose."

"Wise." Frigga smiled warmly once again, though the apologetic grace in her eyes never vanished. "Your father is struggling, I'll speak with you again soon."

A single nod was all Loki gave his mother as her illusion dissipated, leaving him only with his thoughts within his study, a room that had yet to get any proper use.

"Fuck." He grumbled as he stood from his desk, immediately walking to Danielle's own study within the palace.

She looked up at him with raised brows, the pen in her hand still finishing the sentence she had been writing before she set it down.

"You want to leave now?" She asked almost flatly, making Loki's jaw clench.

"No." He mumbled, a few strides further into the room. "I want..."

"You want-"

"More responsibility. A fair share of the load." He cut her off before she could make what was inevitably going to be a snarky remark, making them fight once again. "I wrote all of Odin's diplomatic correspondences for him, I know well how to handle legislative matters. I was raised for such responsibilities, allow me to have them here."

"You don't have to take on more just because you want time with m-"

"I want to. I admit, giving you more time for me is a large part of my drive, but I also want to be more than... I believe you called the place of Asgard's queen 'thrown decor' once." He stated back swiftly, taking another few steps until he was rounding her desk, standing between her and the parchment. He smirked at his wife, his hand lightly grazing hers as it rested on the armrest of her seat. "I don't wish to only be the trophy husband of the queen, darling. I want to be king."

She seemed taken aback immediately, her eyes slightly wider with surprise as she took in his words.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you into such roles."

Loki shook his head, leaning against the desk. "We both did. So, I think we should correct that and create a system between the two of us. Let's start this evening, yes? We can go to Midgard next week."

She slowly nodded, before a small smile found it's way to her lips. The smile Loki hadn't seen in a long time, soft and sweet just as she had always been. "Alright."

That evening went by rather quickly, simply divvying up the many responsibilities between the pair of them, and Loki couldn't help but to feel awful for the brutal workload his dove had been taking on for over half a decade now.

She seemed to run it all smoothly, with little issue as she had adjusted to working the long, strict hours required of her, but Loki knew he could've been helping, should've been helping more.

Once every matter was settled, a schedule they both felt comfortable with, while also giving Fandral and Sigurd a bit more power within the palace, something they both knew the pair would be incredibly gracious of.

He couldn't help, however, feeling the tone of his wife was off as he took her to bed, his arms wrapping around her frame as he laid her down.

She had stated she didn't feel well, what Loki knew was an excuse to refrain from any further intimacy, though he had noticed her complexion run a few shades paler throughout the last two days, her cheeks flushing a red occasionally when she seemed to be otherwise fine. Either way, he chose not to pester her about the matter. He wouldn't push or prod, even his wife, for such things when she truly didn't seem interested. Instead, he settled for a light kiss on her temple, another falling on her cheek as he pulled out a book.