Loki X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

Like Romeo & Juliet (Part 1)

CONTEXT:  

(ESTABLISHING RELATIONSHIP.) 

LOKI AND Y/N HAVE BEEN FRIENDS SINCE CHILDHOOD, WHICH IS A PROBLEM BECAUSE---DUE TO A PETTY FEUD---THEIR FATHERS DESPISE EACH OTHER. TO MAKE THINGS WORSE, LOKI MIGHT HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE .  A BIT. MAYBE. OKAY, A LOT.

---

Leaning over, Frigga retrieves a ribbon from the bedside table. When she sighs, it sets the wax sticks fluttering. "Darling, you're pacing like a caged wolf."

Indeed, Odin's bare feet have stomped a path into the bearskin rug's wiry fur. Agitated, he crosses to the window and frowns at the night. He owns every glowing little house, every shadowy tree, every gently rolling field---

'What in the Nine Realms does he have to be unhappy about?' Frigga mutters under her breath. Each time her husband passes the four-poster, her shoulders loosen, expecting him to join her under the covers---

But, each time, he turns irritably on his heel and begins his circuit again. As he paces, the light from the moon tints his beard grey rather than its usual snowy white, making him appear more of a moody old man than ever.

Meanwhile, his wife's slender fingers work her own hair into a relaxed plait. She knows the answer, but she asks anyway, her voice as interested and sympathetic as she can make it:

"What's on your mind?"

"I'm worried about our son."

He's at the window again, glowering at the moon as if it's personally offended him.

"Now now, there's no need to be such a tragedian; it will all right itself in the end," Frigga soothes. Every now and again, her hair slides against the silk covers with a soft sound as she braids it. It's the colour of the sun, and most men in the kingdom have dreamed of combing their fingers through it---

But Odin remains by the window.

When he turns to her, his arms are crossed. His forehead has gained three more creases since last year. "But it's not righting itself! It's getting tangled into a knot that even I might not be able to untie."

He doesn't wear an eye patch to bed, but Frigga has long since become used to that fleshy red scar marring one side of his face.

She doesn't shrink from it as it glowers down at her on the bed. Instead, she rolls her eyes. "You mean Loki and Y/N?"

He turns to his wife, disgusted. "Don't be so lude, woman!"

She's wearing a cheeky smile.

It's the reason he'd fallen in love with her.

"You know that's not what I meant---what a mind you have, My King."

His mouth doesn't even twitch below his beard.

Frigga had opened the covers hopefully as he'd passed, but he'd been blind to the invitation.

She sighs again---she does that a lot, these days. "They're just friends, darling. Please come to bed."

"But their friendship grows as the seasons pass," he frets, finally submitting to her pleas. With the sound of a tree bowing to the wind, he lets himself sink onto the mattress. "It won't just be friendship for long! You've seen the way he looks at her---and her at him! You've pointed it out yourself!"

Frigga's hands have stopped their complicated braiding. "And, remind me, that's...bad?"

"My love, you know it would be bad!"