Loki: Storm of Swords

Chapter 27 - Easy Questions, Hard Methods

Three days took forever to pass. The prisoner was kept in seclusion as ordered and the Asgardians found themselves very much pushed to the side. At least by the royal family and the Hand. Ser Loras Tyrell actually surprised them by offering to show them his troops, and he dragged Thor and the Warriors Three down to where the Tyrell army was camped. Thor did not know if he was doing it to keep them occupied, or if he was doing it to impress Fandral. Either way, he was rather pleased with the distraction. He did, however, note the absence of several key individuals: Loki, Tyrion, Oberyn, Robb, Jon, and Bronn. They were probably questioning the traitor. Thor was glad he was not there, but at the same time, he wanted to know. 

The traitor received a bucket of water to the face and did his best to lick the drops and even went so far as to stoop to the dirty ground for a mouthful. Loki watched with apparent distaste and Tyrion held a scented handkerchief to his nose. The man spluttered and finally looked up at them. Bronn was the one standing off to the side with a flexible stick in his hand. Robb and Jon Stark were standing behind Loki and Tyrion, alongside Oberyn Martell. "Who sent you? For whom do you fight for?" Loki queried.

"I fight for no one but the Lord of Light!" the man answered. Loki shook his head and Bronn flicked the cane out swiftly, lashing the man across the chest. He cried out in agony and fell to the ground. Loki began to circle him, like a predator.

"I know the Lord of Light cannot work alone. He cannot take physical form yet, so he must depend on his Red Priestesses. I should know. I killed the last one," Loki said coolly. Jon's eyebrow went up as he remembered the encounter well. He had never liked Melisandre, but killing a woman was never his style. 

 "He has a new one!" the man said in a hiss.

"Baelish?" Loki asked as he stood behind the man. "He sold his soul to the devil for the power to defeat me? How... predictable," Loki commented dryly. Suddenly, his hand became blue and a blade of ice covered his fingers. He lashed out and it took everybody several seconds before they realized what he had done. The man let out a piercing scream and covered the side of his head with one of his hands. His ear was lying on the floor now, and droplets of blood were scattered in the dirt. The ice blade evaporated from Loki's hand, leaving blood on his fingers. He wiped it off with a cloth and walked around so that he was facing the man again. "However, the troops were not Baelish's. He never had an army, and doesn't know how to command one anyway," Loki pointed out. 

"Which means somebody else has the army and the control. No insignias were seen on your armor or banners. For whom do you fight for?" Robb Stark asked, stepping forward. The man whimpered at the pain of his missing ear.  

"Where did your men come from?!" Jon reiterated. This time, Bronn delivered the blow to the man's jaw and everyone heard the dull crack as it broke. His exclamation of anguish was choked by blood.

"Please don't kill him just yet," Tyrion reminded. "I vaguely recall my wife stating she wanted answers."

"And answers she shall have, your grace," Loki said smartly. He crouched down and gripped the man's jaw firmly in his hand. The man moaned in pain and they all heard the discernable crunch as his bones were put back into place with Loki's magic. The man stared up at Loki in awe now that he was out of some of his pain. "Speak, while I still allow it."

"The forces the Lord of Light has rallied belong to Ser Lancel Lannister." Tyrion's eyes narrowed and Oberyn Martell cursed. Loki pursed his lips and his pointer finger tapped his mouth.

"He was not accounted for after the Third Siege of Kings Landing. And with Queen Daenerys' victory, I must admit, we were careless," Jon said. Loki did not want to admit, but he had thought Lancel Lannister would be miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and had purposefully forgot him. 

"Careless. Indeed," Loki muttered before he spun around and drove a sword of ice through the man's chest. Both Jon and Robb were visibly startled by this swift demise, but Tyrion just looked on. Bronn was only disturbed by it because blood sprayed up and got on his clothes and some on his face.

"Beautifully done, sir," Bronn said as he wiped a few droplets from his cheek. "I love the velocity and range. My doublet is most grateful."

"Oh, it's very welcome," Loki sneered in reply as he caused the ice sword to vanish. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his own hands. "I am such a fool!" Loki punched the wall, putting a severe dent in it.

"Oh, he's very angry," Jon whispered to Robb and the elder Stark brother nodded his head. 

"You youngin's have never seen him blazing angry," Bronn commented as Loki suddenly closed his fists, turned blue, and a wind of frost started to swirl around him. "Scatter." All of them ducked in cover as the ice storm lashed out. Robb and Jon were not as affected by it as Tyrion, Bronn and Oberyn. They were from the North and hardy folk. Meanwhile, the southerners...

"Holy shit! Who knocked down the Wall?!" Oberyn bellowed from behind a pillar. Loki inhaled and exhaled deeply, calming himself down.

"Forgive my outburst. It was most unbecoming and unlike me," Loki apologized. 

"Oh, please don't apologize!" Tyrion commented as he came out from behind Oberyn. "I rather like seeing you show other emotions beside smugness." Loki rolled his eyes and looked down at his fist. A few cuts and scrapes he had given himself from punching the wall healed up. He flexed his fingers and turned to face them.

"Let us tell her grace what we have learned. Surely the supporters of the former Lannister house are not so great in numbers," Loki said hopefully. They all just looked at him with blank expressions. Loki walked ahead of them out of the dark pits of the prisons beneath the Red Keep. His jaw was set and his eyes narrowed. Loki was never happy to admit a mistake. And now, he had to admit one to his queen.