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

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Selig made his way back from the Throne Room without really seeing anything around him. For each guard, each page who bid him a good afternoon, he absently replied in kind.

He hoped Celia would understand that diplomatic missions such as this were part of his duties as the future king. They happened with fairly regular occurrence, as he had his father's permission to speak on Asgard's behalf. Despite his unhappiness over Selig's nocturnal activities, Loki knew Selig took this duty with the utmost of seriousness.

He paused outside the closed door to Celia's chambers. Voices wafted out into the corridor and he smiled. Aislinn was in there with her and judging by the silvery peals of laughter, they were having a good time.

He rapped lightly on the door and poked his head into the room. "Is it safe to come in?"

"That all depends on why you want to come in," Aislinn replied. "Should I chase him away for you, Ce?"

"No. I think it's okay if he stays." The comforter rustled as Celia slid to the edge and rose. She smiled up at him as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

But as she drew near, her smile faded and her brow furrowed. "What's wrong, Sel?"

"Al, could you give us a minute?" He turned to Aislinn, who still sat cross-legged in the middle of Celia's bed.

Aislinn frowned as she uncrossed her legs and also stood. "What is it, Selig? Is something wrong with Dad? Mom?"

He shook his head. "No. They're both fine. Everything is fine. I just need to talk to Ce, that's all."

Aislinn nodded, although she didn't look entirely convinced. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." He smiled at his sister. She could be a pain when she wanted to, and was too nosy for her own good, but her heart was usually in the right place.

She patted his shoulder as she passed and when the door swung shut, Celia came up to slip her arm through his. Giving it a gentle squeeze, she said, "What's wrong?"

He shook his head as he guided her out onto the terrace. "Nothing is wrong."

She pulled away and moved to perch on the ledge, her hands clasped between her knees. She peered up at him, an adorable wrinkle forming between her eyes as she said, "Then why do you look like you've got the weight of all nine realms on your shoulders?"

He sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. "Remember when you asked me what I do when I'm not being a soldier?" He waited for her to nod, then went on. "You're about to find out what I do. My father is sending me to Svartalfheim in the morning."

That crinkle between her eyes deepened. "Svartle-where?"

His laugh popped out on its own and he shook his head. "Svartalfheim. Home of the Dark Elves."

She reached up to rub her forehead. "You're going to have to be patient with me, Selig. You grew up with this, but it's all new to me. It's all new and it's really kind of all Greek to me." Lowering her hand, she added, "What's a Dark Elf?"

"They're the inhabitants of Svartalfheim. And we tend to take their threats fairly seriously." He rubbed his chin slowly, hedging as he said, "A Dark Elf was responsible for murdering my grandmother."

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"Very. And one was also responsible for nearly killing my father as well." He shook his head, his hand going still on his jaw. "Of course, if neither of those things happen, I'm not standing here today, so they were terrible, but not really."