What Might Have Been

Chapter XI

Apprehension made the guards whip to attention, trying hard not to stare at the second prince. A trail of sand and water footprints littered the courtyard when he dismounted but Loki appeared as meticulously well-groomed as he is wont. The guard to the left was not as lucky as his partner. The prince stood before him, his green eyes ablaze and body strung like a violin string pulled to tight. Another notch and he would snap. Both guards bowed stiffly before him.

“Prince Loki, welco—”

“My sister. Where is she?” There was a beat before they answered, Loki’s visage darkening each second they delayed.

“In the castle, m’lord.” Loki valued efficiency and prompt replies. The left guard straightened further and fought not to look away from the prince’s gaze. Loki took another step forward, looking down his nose at the soldier.

“She does not leave until I say so.” He would not accept anything but the affirmative and when his partner looked to pose a question, the left guard butted him silent with his spear. 

“Yes, sir. I will pass the word along.” As the guard valued all his bodily parts intact so he would do just that with speed unseen. Jane of the Asgard royal family was not to leave the castle. He sent the note posthaste. 

Loki stalked up to his quarters, his fury roiling and boiling on top of his unchecked desires until the Second Prince of Asgard was liable to explode at the lightest prick of a needle. 

“I need a place where I can discreetly have a one-night stand…s.” Markl’s hunk of dough flew from his hands, missing the counter, going splat on the ground where it caused tripping and mayhem. He didn’t pay any attention to that, fixating his eyes on the little woman seeking places he knew something a little too well about. Maybe he should have been a little more circumspect about the Asgardian customs he divulged to Jane in her formative years. Markl coughed awkwardly into his knuckles. 

“I think royalty has more, er. Tact, tact, how to phrase this…Oh to Helheim with it, don’t royalty just fuck each other or those in the courts? And in much more comfortable beds I might add. Silk sheets, too.” Tact was not Markl’s strong suit. 

Jane burrowed her face beneath her hands, mortified she even had to have this conversation with the baker. Mr. Whiskers didn’t patronize human establishment so for all his sexual-life advice, he was no good here. That left Markl. Or Thor. Markl would have a significantly less violent reaction than the thunderer. At least Markl was in the secluded part of the kitchen.

“For the nth time, I am not sleeping with my brother,” she hissed at him, falling immediately silent when a caretaker came over for a few loaves of bread. Not any more she wasn’t any way. The nerve of that man! Seducing her in her dreams, that! That! Was so like him, how did she not see that? Jane shook her head, trying to disengage those thoughts and turned her attention back to the baker. She watched the servant leave, the blush still on her cheeks and swung her gaze back to Markl. The baker tapped his fingers, getting flour all over his face and untrimmed beard. 

“Y’sure? I bet he got his nickname for a reason.”

“Oh for the love of—Markl, I’m trying to satisfy some very natural urges and throw this unnatural urges for my brother under the rug at the same time. You’re suppose to tell me that wanting sex from my brother Loki is a very bad thing.”

“Wanting hot, sweaty, very good sex from your brother is not a very bad thing.”

“Thank you. Now that that’s…wait, what? Oh, but bad sex from my brother is a bad thing?”

“Bad sex is always a bad thing.” Markl nodded sagely as if imparting wisdom and fact. “You being mortal ain’t a shame. He can be gentle, I’m sure. And if his past lovers speak true, adequate and then some. Plus he does this thing…”