The Bargain

Chapter 48: Forty-eighth Installment

Forty-Eighth Installment: Unexpected

Night in Alfheim was softer than Asgard, the temperature not dropping quite as low and the night sky not seeming quite as dark. Loki stood on the balcony of the room Freyr had given him, the breeze almost warm across his skin. He'd forgone his ceremonial leather armor for a robe of dark violet silk. It had been a gift from Freyr's sons, and even the breeches he wore were silk dyed a rich black.

It felt like a cloud on his skin.

That elf, the Aether said, sounding thoughtful, he watched you very closely all evening.

Loki smiled faintly. "Yes, but so much the better he did. The more intrigued he becomes, the closer I get to my goal."

The Casket, she mused. Do you like him better than your human? Stark?

The question actually startled a laugh from him. "What brings this on?"

I don't know your human, she said, but this Freyr seems strong.

She sounded so contemplative. Chuckling, Loki cupped the crystal still in a pendant around his neck. It was too big for a piece of jewelry, but no one could mistake her for decoration.

"I like this inquisitive side of you," he murmured. "Never lose your desire to learn, dearest."

Instantly, glowing black flowed from the pendant to swirl around him in lazy tendrils. Her way of embracing him. Love radiated from the black, potently strong. Loki rewarded it with his own feelings for her.

A knock on the door made Loki turn his head, but he didn't ask the Aether to move. "Come in," he called.

Freyr walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He appeared a little startled by the Aether's presence, but he didn't recoil in alarm. Mostly, it was curiosity on his face.

"Simply incredible," he said, shaking his head. "Forgive me if I intrude."

"You're not," Loki assured him. "We were simply enjoying the warm night." The Aether slowly retracted to the crystal, and Loki lowered his hand to face Freyr. "Is something troubling you?"

Freyr shook his head. He was wearing a lace-up shirt of the softest blue silk. "I had thought to come bid you good night. In truth, it's a poor excuse to see you again. My sons think I am smitten with my savior."

Loki's lips curved in an indulgent smile. "Is that what you think as well, Freyr?" A hint teasing.

"We parted from dinner less than an hour ago," the king said, "and I missed you already. I would have to agree with my sons."

"You have been trapped by your grief for so long," Loki said, "you cannot wait to live again. There is nothing strange in that."

Freyr let out a soft sound of amusement. "You are as kind as you are fair. How is it I have never met you until now? Why do not your mother and father parade you about and boast of you as they should?"

At this, Loki looked away. "I am not as unguarded with everyone."

A strong hand landed on his shoulder, warm through the thin robe. Freyr gently turned him. "Stay here in Alfheim, with me," he entreated softly. "I want to learn your every expression, your every secret, your every passion and joy." He cupped Loki's chin in his free hand and leaned down. "Do this, and I will give you the Casket."

Reaching up, Loki lightly rested his hand on Freyr's wrist, not making the other move. "I cannot. There are other demands on my time, demands I cannot ignore. As pleasant as that sounds."