Lower Your Eyes (A Loki Romance Fanfic)

Chapter Eleven : A Devilish Plot

"If she finds a way, you can't ask her to stay here," Frigga said, glaring across the table at her son.

It was a fine Sunday afternoon, and Loki wished she'd paid more attention to the city view off the edge of the garden courtyard. Rather than expend her energy wearing his resolve down.

"I didn't tell you this to have you change my mind, mother."

"You would rather have her stay in a place where she is abused and deprived for the entirety of her life, and for what?" She straightened up against her ornate chair, the fluttering leaves of the canopy casting dancing shadows across her face. "Tell me that much, Loki—what can you possibly offer?"

Loki considered it for a moment. "I can offer her protection."

"Hardly," Frigga said darkly. "I understand that you care for this slave, but your father's power still outweighs your own, whether you like it, or not."

Loki sighed, feeling frustrated with the direction of this conversation. His gaze trailed over the city rooftops, down to the training arena to the far left of the palace. He stared down at it, recalling every instant he'd seen Aila for the past few weeks—watching their training sessions with her friend in the dark. Did they really hope to learn from afar? Was that their plan? It was all strange...Strange the way she watched them. Strange the way her eyes narrowed at their different maneuvers.

"She has become a dear friend to me," he said calmly. "Nothing more. I merely thought you would tend to this matter better than I."

"You thought wrong, Loki. I will convince her of no such thing when she arrives." Frigga jabbed a finger in his direction. "And shame on you for trying to force me into a corner like this."

"I didn't force you to do anything, mother."

"Why else would you have her come up to this—"

Just then, there was the sound of a clearing throat appeared behind them. A guard had arrived.

The queen sat back with a look of annoyance and looked out into the city, while Loki turned toward the guard that had appeared.

"She is here," he announced.

Loki gave the guard a nod—feeling something of a knot tightening in his stomach—and kept a mask of icy calm as the young woman appeared moments later, approaching them both. Her hair had gotten slightly longer over the past few weeks, tumbling over her shoulders in loose waves. Frigga turned and looked at the girl, a glimmer of pity tensing in the corners of her upturned grin.

"Aila," Loki said steadily, and her cool, composed eyes flickered toward his boots, while a subtle wind brushed her hair against her neutral features. It was then that he noticed how her hands were locked before her, thumbs brushing against each other nervously.

Aila nodded. "My Prince... My Queen."

Loki heard Frigga sigh quietly beside him—by the flicker of movement, Aila clearly noticed it as well.

He nodded toward the chair to his left at the table. "Sit."

Aila didn't move at first, looking uncomfortable for a time, but finally obeyed.

Loki sat back, leaving his tea utterly untouched and growing cold. "How are you feeling?" he asked nonchalantly as she sat.

Aila's brows pinched, and she looked up at him. "I'm good, My Prince. Thank you."

"How have you been faring these past few weeks?" he asked as he reached forward for his tea and suppressed a grimace at discovering it was utterly cool.