Lower Your Eyes (A Loki Romance Fanfic)

Chapter Thirteen: Leaving, Only to Return

You would be executed for it.

His words echoed through my mind again and again, over the weeks that passed.

When I walked down the stairs of the library that night, the resulting air between us was hardly what I expected would follow. It grew cold and distant since the night of my birthday—a stark contrast to where I thought things were headed. The Prince neither touched nor approached me again, and the faintest look of disapproval was in his eyes each time I stepped too close. He required less of me on a day-to-day basis, and I saw less of his face in general. Quite literally, as he always seemed to find a reason to turn away from me.

Slowly but surely, I began to understand his intentions. With every cold, sidelong glance, and absent remark, I began to understand his intent to keep me at arm's length.

The Prince began spending more and more time at his desk—just as he did in the very beginning—but never deigned to tell me what he was working on. Nor did he ask me to go to the library to pick up tomes, or even accompany him.

Yet, he was always at his desk. Always with a new stack of tomes, and a pile of papers.

Just as he was now, one month later.

One cold, lonely month...

I looked over at him, realizing just how well I'd gotten to know his backside. I sighed as I held a book up in my hand, wondering if he preferred it to stay on his end table, or to be put back onto the bookshelf. Even if I asked him now, I knew the answer would be clipped and abrupt.

It was more than I could bear in the moment, and I circled around the bed to set it back on the shelf.

"Aila?" he suddenly said, without turning to look back at me.

I faced him, surprised to be spoken to. For the past month, whenever he delved so deeply into his work, he rarely spoke to me. "Yes, Prince."

"I would like you to accompany me to the meeting tonight."

I blinked at him. "Meeting?"

"The final treaty signing of the warring realms. Go to the wardrobe and fetch the robes on the second hanger from the left."

There was a pause. My heart sank a bit, still feeling the sting of being spoken to so coldly. Daring to attempt a venture into a conversation, I asked, "Is that what you've been working on? Something for the meeting?"

"Don't concern yourself with that. Please just do as you're told."

"Alright," I sighed, turning and heading toward it. The hangers slid against the metal pole as I procured the robes, eyeing them curiously. "This is...what is this?"

"A scribe's apparel."

"Why do I need to wear this?"

Loki continued writing, and from where the lamplight fell on his face, I could see the utter neutrality in his expression. "Because the Alfather does not like to have slaves present in these meetings. If you're to accompany me, then I will not have you dressed as one."

"Why do I need to accompany you?"

"Because I've asked you to come with me." Loki stopped writing and glanced at me for a moment, as though checking to see if I was getting ready. "I would like you to be there for it."

"Why?"

"Aila..." He sighed. "Please, you will find out when we go. Be ready to leave within the hour."

There was a pause. "Alright," I answered, and Loki continued to watch me as I put the robes down on the bed. I left my tunic in its place once I was finished changing and waited as he gathered the pile of paperwork he'd been scribbling at the entire day.