Loki, Unraveled|| NovaVerse 2

18|| Gone

Word Count: 3,747

"My Prince, I have obtained the blankets you asked for," the maid said, holding out what had to be the largest, fluffiest blanket Nova had ever seen in her entire life. Loki draped it over her shoulders on top of his own cloak -which he had given earlier- and thanked the maid. Nova pulled the blankets closer to her and sighed.

"You're acting weird, Loki," she said, taking another sip of her tea.

He looked restless, pacing the library every few minutes, pulling on his fingers, even bobbing his leg when he sat. His eyebags were prominent, as if he hadn't slept in days. "Laufey had a son...that uhyre called me his son... what if it is true? What if I- I am that monster parents tell their children about at night?"

Nova took his hand and squeezed. "Never say that. Don't even think it. You are not a monster, Loki. Never let yourself believe that." She searched his emerald-green eyes for understanding. He couldn't let himself think like that. He couldn't think of himself a monster. Sure, when she first met him he was a bit messed up and made terrible bargains with shady titans, but that wasn't who he truly was. He had changed so much in the past five months. "Besides, maybe it was lying to get under your skin."

He tilted his head. "Why would anything want to get underneath my skin? Thats disgusting."

Nova facepalmed herself. "It's an expression, Loki."

"A rather crude one at that."

"Not the point. I'm saying: maybe the creature said you were his son to disturb and distract you. Remember that thing is a pawn for the enemy. We can't trust anything that comes out of its mouth." She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. "We all know you're too much of a softie to be a monster, anyways."

"A softie, you say?" He raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Well, I suppose if being compassionate, charming, and devilishly handsome qualifies me as a 'softie,' then I'll gladly accept the title."

Nova chuckled a bit and her chest warmed. Seeing him loosen up a bit made her feel calmer. As long as she kept him from going into a spiral of darkness, then everything would be fine. They would figure everything out together.

The sound of the doors opening, and boots broke the calm.

Two Asgardian guards -clad in gold and silver- approached the prince and his betrothed and halted a few feet away from them. Loki stood and folded his arms. "What is the meaning of this visit?" He asked, his eyes cold, voice devoid of emotion. "Do you not see that my betrothed and I are occupied at the moment?"

Both guards knelt before the god of mischief, not daring to make eye contact. "We apologize, my prince, but it is urgent. The King wishes for you to meet him in the throne room immediately." The guard who spoke looked up for just a moment to look up at Nova, who stared until he looked back to the floor. "He has specifically requested that your... betrothed not go with you." The guard swallowed nervously, his throat bobbing.

Loki turned his head and took a step forward. He leaned in close to the guard, so close he could feel the warmth of his breath, and whispered, "That wasn't the word he used, was it?" The guard shook his head, a drop of sweat running down his face. Nova had never known Loki to be the type of person to instill such fear into a person. Perhaps to her he had always seemed harmless, even five months ago when they despised each other. Perhaps he was a different person when he wasn't with Nova. A person who people feared. "What did he call her, then?" His voice was cold as ice and cunning.

"Must I say it? Perhaps you can discuss wi-"

"I order you to say it."

"He- he called her a 'Freakish whore.'"