Lower Your Eyes (A Loki Romance Fanfic)

Chapter Nineteen: Sweet and Wretched Entanglements

For all that other men (and women) once reviled Aila as she walked by, Loki took some pleasure in the looks that were thrown her direction from every which way. Beautiful, unrecognizably proud, and with a prince of Asgard trailing after her. He was sure that everyone either must have wanted to know her, be her, or—by the looks on 'some' of their faces—be in bed with her.

He couldn't help but smile smugly, dropping his gaze up and down her form—lingering over her hips—as she strutted in front of him, dress billowing back, knowing that he'd tasted that damnably exquisite privilege just minutes ago.

Aila slowed when they approached the edge of the center plaza, where they'd left the royal company. She let him take her arm, indicating their togetherness, and Frigga arched a brow as she glanced at them over her shoulder—as though she somehow sensed their approach. The Alfather, meanwhile, was nowhere in sight.

"Well," she crooned, displaying an edge of distaste as she glanced at the highly inebriated King Veris, "at least the city's all in one piece."

A pang of animosity shot through Loki upon seeing the salacious look the king drew away from his mother, turning his attention to the pair of them. "All in one piece, daughter?"

Loki bit back a grimace, looking around the courtyard for wherever the Alfather had gone—and left his mother at the mercy of this dullard.

"Not in pieces yet," Aila responded coolly, as though she too noticed the queen's discomfort. "Where has the Alfather gone?"

"He's just gone to get a couple of—" Frigga began, but was interrupted by Odin's sudden reappearance. "Drinks." She smiled, taking a goblet from his hand.

A smidgen of relief loosening in Loki's stomach. Not that Frigga couldn't handle Veris—it was a question of whether the king could handle Loki at the level of rage that began to simmer in Odin's absence.

"You were gone far too long, darling," Frigga murmured with a hint of distaste, taking the drink from Odin.

"It was but a few minutes," he answered, his tone a bit more serious. "There were a few other matters to attend to, I shall fill you in when we are home."

Frigga's brow twinged in confusion, but she visibly let it go quite quickly—especially as another figure joined the company. Consul Ragar, advisor to King Veris, dressed as amicably and festively as everyone else at the event—which fully raged on around them.

"I must say," the consul grinned, casting a glance around the festivities. "I'm almost offended to have never been invited to this event before, war or no war." Aila's arm tightened around Loki—she'd never met this man, before, and stiffened when he turned his attention to her. "It's reminiscent of the Irithin Festival back home, isn't it?"

Aila grinned, hiding her stiffness valiantly, "Ours is just a tiny bit better, wouldn't you agree?"

Ragar chortled with laughter. "Oh, I wouldn't quite say that"—he cast another glance around the space—"but it does come in rather close. Just look at this music! It's got hints of that one instrument—oh, what was it again? The one we heard when we traveled to Anaheim?"

"Speaking of music," Loki interjected, sensing the dangerous grounds that this conversation was beginning to tread. He turned to Aila and offered a hand. "I quite like this song—would you do me the honor?"

Relief and trepidation warred in her expression, but the relief won out anyway as she took his arm. As he led her away, Aila's voice fell to a hushed tone. "I don't know if that was the move to make back there," she said, commenting on the brisk, fast-paced beat of the tune. "I don't know this song."